The Xuanyuan Sect.
Outside the Xuanyang Main Hall.
A dozen or so disciples followed behind Shen Yu. At the very front of the group stood an old man with white hair and beard, his hands clasped behind his back at the end of the cloud steps.
He was Lou Zhengze, sect master of the Xuanyuan Sect.
The master of the foremost sect in the Chu Kingdom had actually come in person to see someone off. This was rather too grand a reception.
Suddenly, a mystic crane cried among the clouds and slowly flew toward them.
"Sect Master Lou, what are you doing?"
A young Daoist sat upright upon the ink-black immortal crane. His face was like polished jade, his eyes like stars, and a long, slender painting scroll rested on his back.
He was none other than Wu Xingzhi, a visitor from the Central Region, a descendant of Wu Daoxuan and a member of the Wu Clan.
He landed gracefully, and the mystic crane turned into a streak of ink that gathered at his fingertips.
"Such a grand reception is really more than I deserve."
He had cultivated for over a hundred and thirty years and had now only just entered the early Golden Core stage. In the Central Region, he could barely be called someone of middling aptitude.
His standing in the Wu Clan Immortal Clan was ordinary as well.
Yet this trip to the frontier had given him a thorough taste of what it meant to stand above ten thousand others.
Wu Xingzhi murmured inwardly, quietly warning himself.
I must not let this vanity disturb my Dao Heart.
If my Painting Refinement plummeted a thousand fathoms when I returned to the clan, people would laugh their teeth out.
A warm smile blossomed on Lou Zhengze's aged, stern face.