Luo Xiao was like a ghost. He followed Zhang Jue wherever he went, yet no one had ever seen him.
The Way of Great Peace had a mysterious Dao Master, a friend of the Great Teacher of the Way, who was said to be handsome and otherworldly as a heavenly god, but he existed only in tales passed from mouth to mouth.
Through the connection between the Sacred Marks, the Luo Clan knew he was still alive, and that was all. Luo Xiao had not returned to Zhao City in a long time.
The Luo Clan members in Zhao City all had their own work to do: studying the classics, offering sacrifices to the Sage King, and governing their households and states. But Luo Xiao could not sit still.
A voice in his heart always told him that he had more important things to do.
He was no ordinary Luo Clan Scion!
He bore destiny upon his shoulders, a descendant favored by both Heaven and his ancestors.
He had to do something crucial for All Under Heaven, something crucial for his clan.
In his thirty-odd years of life, he had walked alone. Apart from his relatives in the clan, he had spoken to fewer than a hundred people.
He had no wife, no children, and no friends. Only Zhang Jue, a man who possessed Daoist Arts, could be said to merit his regard.
Luo Xiao believed that Zhang Jue's Way of Great Peace was probably his destiny.
So he had kept watching the Way of Great Peace, watching it grow from a tiny Daoist group into a vast organization with hundreds of thousands of Daoist soldiers. Its reputation among the people far surpassed that of the court and the powerful gentry, making it a symbol of fairness and justice.
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