"All right, come on out."
"What's the point of hiding? You're not shy brides on your wedding day."
His words rang out.
High above, the clouds churned.
Seven lights emerged from the void, each with a different color and aura, but all carrying the pure, peaceful bearing of immortals.
At their head stood a man in moon-white robes, with refined features, three wisps of long beard, and an ancient longsword hanging at his waist. He was Pure Yang Perfected Lord Lü Dongbin.
Beside him stood a lame old man leaning on an iron crutch, a gourd hanging at his waist and the fragrance of wine wafting from him. This was Iron-Crutch Li.
Behind them stood Zhang Guolao, riding backward on a donkey; Han Zhongli, his chest and belly bare; Lan Caihe, carrying a flower basket; Han Xiangzi, holding a jade flute; and Cao Guojiu, holding jade clappers.
The seven stood atop the clouds, looking down at Wangchuan and He Xiangu on the yellow-earth slope.
Wangchuan looked up and waved.
"Oh, quite the turnout."
His tone was flippant, but silver moonlight flickered in his eyes.
The seven immortals did not respond immediately.
Lü Dongbin stood atop the clouds with his longsword on his back, his gaze resting on Wangchuan. His brows moved almost imperceptibly.
"Tso Lan."
"It's been years."
Wangchuan tilted his head.
"It has."
"The last time we met, you sent my sixth brother, Shendu, back to Hell."
Lü Dongbin did not respond to that.
His gaze shifted from Wangchuan to He Xiangu.
He Xiangu nodded slightly.
Lü Dongbin withdrew his gaze and looked back at Wangchuan.
"Go ahead."
He spoke those two words.
Wangchuan raised his eyebrows.
"Straight to the point."
He turned, the Moon Wheel spinning faster beneath his feet as space began collapsing inward.
Silvery-white light surged