In early November, at the Myriad Treasures Pavilion in Beyond-the-World Valley.
Mo Heng reclined leisurely in a rocking chair, a small, exquisite purple-clay teapot in his hand, resting with his eyes closed.
His duties here were pleasantly undemanding. Once he had made the proper arrangements up and down the chain, all the tedious mundane affairs could be left to the mortal manager and servants. He only needed to check on things occasionally, and could even trade shifts with his colleague Xiao Yicheng now and then to spend some time back in his hometown.
Unlike rogue cultivators who still had some hope of reaching Foundation Establishment, Mo Heng did not toil day after day in pursuit of a sliver of opportunity. Even cultivation had become optional for him.
At this point in his life, he could truly be said to want for nothing. Apart from the steadily approaching limit of his mortal lifespan, nothing could trouble him.
Suddenly, the relaxed Mo Heng perked up, instinctively growing alert.
He sensed a faint, insubstantial aura entering the range of his perception and drawing steadily closer.
Fortunately, the other party was not moving quickly and seemed to be an ordinary visitor.
Mo Heng rose and went downstairs. Before long, the manager indeed came to meet him and reported, "Attendant Mo, we have a customer."
Mo Heng smiled calmly and said, "Invite our honored guest over here. We can discuss matters inside."
Before long, Mo Heng met Li Ling in a private room downstairs.
Naturally, Li Ling had not come in his original appearance. Through soul projection, he had transformed his manifestation into an unremarkable middle-aged man who looked weathered by wind and frost.
Mo Heng recognized him at a glance as an ordinary rogue cultivator.
Still, anyone who came was a guest, and he