Thunder-Summoning and Lightning-Wielding, the Tit Demon

The Spirit Crane landed, folded its wings, and crouched, graceful in bearing and attentive in service. Xuanming lightly pushed off with his toes, his wide sleeves catching the breeze as he floated down.

The Daoists of the Truth-Seeking Abbey were overjoyed. Led by Xuanxu, they bowed in salute. "Thank you for saving us, senior brother (senior uncle, junior uncle)."

"As long as you are all unharmed!" After reassuring everyone, Xuanming smiled warmly. "Congratulations on becoming a True Person, junior brother."

Xuanxu returned the salute, his face radiant with delight. "It was all thanks to you and Chang'anzi, senior brother."

During their brief conversation, Xuanxu did not ask the foolish question of why his senior brother had come down the mountain. Senior Brother Xuanming could divine and calculate, and his mastery of the arts of the Changes had already crossed the threshold into true proficiency. It was hardly strange that he knew they were in danger; otherwise, he would not have left them a means of protection before they departed.

This was no place to linger. The Daoists exchanged only a few words before falling silent. Xuanxu called for everyone to sit cross-legged and regulate their breathing. Once they had calmed their churning blood and qi, they immediately set off again.

Xuanming flicked his Fly-Whisk, its three thousand silver strands winding around the flood serpent's corpse. He then tied the Fly-Whisk to the Peachwood Sword and ordered the sword to carry it and follow behind him. He himself leaped onto the Spirit Crane, which rose with beating wings and soared through the heavens as he admired the sunset clouds and the sea of mist.

The other Spirit Crane looked strained. It beat its wings desperately, trying to catch its companion, yet remained nine zhang behind the crane ahead, flying nine zhang