Southern Wilds, Mian Mountain Sacred Palace.
The Night King emerged from meditation, draped himself in brocade robes, and came alone to the brightly lit window.
Looking out from there, he saw an unbroken sweep of green mountains wreathed in clouds and mist. The spiritual richness of the Spirit Peak Blessed Land gathered among them, nourishing countless living things.
From time to time, rosy light shimmered, birds soared, and clouds unfurled, bringing the tranquil contentment of this blessed land washing over him.
Yet after quietly admiring its beauty for a while, the Night King left the cultivation chamber without the slightest lingering attachment and went to the sacred palace's inner courtyard.
There, several young disciples in green robes, their bearing spirited and upright, were waiting for him.
"Greetings, Patriarch!" Seeing the Night King emerge, the disciples hastily bowed in homage.
"How are the preparations coming along?" the Night King asked.
Three days earlier, a secret message had arrived from Central Province: the Cloud Summit Gathering was about to convene. As a participant in the previous gathering who still held a crucial Star Map, he naturally would not be excluded.
He did not want to miss this opportunity either, so he had gladly agreed to attend.
But as a titan among rogue cultivators, he could not neglect the foundation he had worked so hard to establish. Before departing, he had to make thorough arrangements.
Among the disciples, a young man who looked somewhat older and served as their senior brother said, "Reporting to the Patriarch, we have notified all the city lords and wardmasters of the eight cities and thirteen wards. Production at the ore veins, medicinal gardens, and workshops has also been properly arranged. There will certainly be no problems."
Satisfaction appeared on the Night King's face, and he nodded slightly.