Jing Jiu walked toward the cliff's edge, washing his face with Sword Flame as he went.
With his steps, dust shook free of his clothes. Soon they were as clean as new, and he looked unworldly and refined, like a lotus after rain.
Gu Qing followed beside him, speaking very quickly in a calm voice as he recounted the important events in the Cultivation World and Green Mountain over the past year.
Watching this, Zhuo Rusui thought, wasn't this exactly the image of a eunuch or treasonous minister so often found in storytelling? He could not help laughing aloud.
Jing Jiu glanced at him.
Zhuo Rusui hurriedly stepped aside to clear the way. "I just wiped down the bamboo chair."
Jing Jiu lay down on the bamboo chair.
Standing beside him, Gu Qing continued, "Guo Nanshan has come many times. He came earlier too, still about that matter in Yizhou."
Jing Jiu closed his eyes without speaking. Apparently, today's spring sunshine really was lovely.
Zhuo Rusui glanced at the sky and sighed inwardly with envy.
Finally, Gu Qing said, "The Hanging Bell Sect, Great Marsh, and Water-Moon Convent have sent messages asking several times. They want to know the definite date of the ceremony."
If that were all, he would not have felt much pressure. The crucial thing was that Shangde Peak was pressing for an answer too.
"Handle it as you see fit," Jing Jiu said.
Somewhat helplessly, Gu Qing thought, I'm not the one becoming Sect Master. I suppose I'll just have to keep dragging it out.
The Cultivation World's concept of time differed from that of the mortal world. Take the Zhongzhou Sect's Dao-Seeking Assembly, for example: no one could be certain whether it really marked exactly thirty thousand years. Holding it a few years early or