The night was cool as water.
The clamor in the Joyous Union Sect finally faded with the night, and the patriarchs and sect masters of the Eastern Region's great sects began taking their leave, one after another.
Before departing, these old fellows who had pacified the Eastern Region all wore deeply wistful expressions, their every word brimming with longing for the vast Immortal Realm.
Yet from beginning to end, not a single one of them took the initiative to mention "ascension."
This was the negotiating tactic these old foxes excelled at: they only ever said half of what they meant.
It kept them from looking greedy or overstepping their bounds, preserving a measure of dignity.
At the same time, they made their willingness to "follow Senior into the Immortal Realm at any moment" perfectly clear.
Even more ridiculous was that, although they addressed him as "Fellow Daoist Si Chen," the bows they gave before leaving were unmistakably those of juniors.
Of all the tangled matters in the cultivation world, seniority was probably the hardest to unravel.
Si Chen understood these social niceties perfectly and merely cupped his hands in a restrained return salute.
"Take care, fellow Daoists."
"You're too kind, too kind! Please, don't trouble yourself to see us out!"
The old foxes backed out of the hall in reverent trepidation. Only after passing through the doors did they let out long breaths of relief, boarding their Flying Boats with glowing faces as though they had obtained priceless treasures.
The outcome was settled!
"These old geezers..."
Watching his master's Flying Boat recede into the distance, Song Chi could not help shaking his head.
"Brother Si, why don't we each keep our own reckoning? I'll call you brother, and you can call my master young friend."
"Once they ascend and