At the Starwoven Gathering, they contested for pills, each path displaying its divine abilities.
Nine hundred and ninety-nine Immortal Elixirs were naturally nowhere near enough, yet even so, only nine hundred-odd ultimately fell into people's hands.
Some witnessed Immortal Elixirs vanish into the Celestial River without a trace; others even escaped the Heavenly Realm, disappearing into the astral wind.
Of course, some had made no attempt to compete from the moment the Immortal Elixirs emerged, such as the Buddhas and Bodhisattvas who remained seated by the Celestial River, or the female Immortals aboard Taiyin Palace's treasure ship.
Or those like Zhuo Qing, who sat on the steps of a waterside hall in the Celestial Weaving Palace, gazing blankly toward the brilliant light in the distance, as though she stood outside it all.
When the streaks of elixir-light flew past, Zhuo Qing could not be bothered to catch them, though the Weaver Maidens all chased after them.
Qi Zhongbin had not moved either, but the cultivator previously beside him had joined the scramble, seemingly pursuing them out of the Heavenly Realm along with some of the others.
He looked nearby, where a portly monk wearing a gauzy, shawl-like garment and radiating a faint Buddha Light silently recited sutras. Rather than occupying a pavilion, palace, cloud terrace, or treasured throne, he simply sat cross-legged on an open patch by the water, with no disciples accompanying him.
It was this seemingly unremarkable monk who had loudly recited sutras to stabilize destiny when water and fire collided, yet remained unmoved once the pills were complete.
I wonder which Bodhisattva he is.
As Qi Zhongbin thought this, the monk seemed to sense his gaze. He turned toward Qi Zhongbin, pressed his palms together, and bowed slightly.
In the monk's eyes, this Immortal had the ability