That same night, inside the White Feather Way temple complex in Luoqi Prefecture City, Han Shiyong had just finished conducting a ritual ceremony.
Just as he had promised, Han Shiyong had personally presided over the rites for the several White Feather Way Daoists who had died.
Though their bodies were already empty shells, a bond still existed between a ghost and its corpse. Even leaving that aside, the rites held great significance for their families.
Only, the families gathered at the White Feather Way temple were rather unusual.
Of the four Daoists' families, only one had an elderly father present, who wept so hard he could barely speak. All the others were groups of young women of varying ages, their cries mingling like the twittering of orioles and swallows, though there was more effort than actual tears.
"Family members, do not grieve too deeply. Our fellow Daoists are simply continuing their cultivation in another form. When a Daoist passes into the Netherworld, the Ghosts and Gods will look after him!"
Han Shiyong comforted the families calmly and kindly. Coming from his mouth, those words seemed like truth itself, carrying a power that inspired belief.
"Thank you, State Preceptor!" "Thank you, Lord State Preceptor. Sob, sob..."
The temple was a solemn place, and even the grieving relatives kept their sobs subdued. Han Shiyong nodded slightly.
"Go and rest."
"Thank you, State Preceptor, thank you!" "Take care, State Preceptor!"
Han Shiyong said nothing more and left the hall with his attendants.
Such formalities were still quite necessary. Winning hearts was a long process, and even in his present position, Han Shiyong needed to put on a show when the opportunity arose, especially in a place like Luoqi Prefecture, which he seldom visited yet considered important.
Once outside the hall, Han Shiyong turned