The Heavy Mountains were thick with precipitous ridges, vast enough to hold ten thousand chariots.
Cuiwei's crown pierced the clouds, its peaks touching their fringes, its layered ridges racing westward alongside the surrounding mountains.
Within lay a sunken basin, rich in metal energy and strewn with jagged earth and stone. Viewed from above, dense swarms of people moved across the ground, gathering and dispersing.
Countless mortals had gathered into a small Market Ward town. Cultivators flew to and fro above it, and a spirit array marked its boundaries like a giant bowl turned upside down over the earth.
Miners, traveling merchants, treasure appraisers, mineral prospectors, artifact refiners, Alchemists, and others thronged the streets in a lively bustle.
At the center of the square stood a great hall, with heavy beams and sweeping eaves, austere and dignified. A horizontal plaque bore the words "Cloud-Crowned Hall."
Everyone passing by, regardless of status, took great care to avoid its entrance. A True Person resided in the Cloud-Crowned Hall year-round, and how could wretched folk like them ever hope to meet someone so exalted? They therefore trod carefully, terrified of inadvertently giving offense.
Just then, a streak of lightning flashed across the horizon and slammed into the ground. As the smoke cleared, a tall, shapely female cultivator in Golden Armor emerged and hurried straight toward the hall.
The people nearby had long since grown accustomed to the sight. This Thunder Cultivator from the higher sect was always rushing about like wind and fire and did not seem easy to get along with. Fortunately, things had remained largely peaceful in the year or so since she arrived.
Chu Qingjian had no inkling of the thoughts running through their heads. Her brows tightly knitted, she headed straight inside.
Several cultivators were already seated on either side