Within the great hall, auspicious light swirled, and faint Sanskrit chants drifted through the air.
The two Sages, Jieyin and Zhunti, sat upon their cloud beds. Yet none of their usual sage-like majesty remained. Their faces overflowed with irrepressible smiles and pride as they gazed intently at Ming Xin, who was slowly walking into the hall.
Their gazes were like those directed at the brightest treasure of their own household, filled with pride, gratification, and even a trace of exhilaration at sharing in his glory.
"Beloved disciple! You have returned!" Saint Zhunti spoke first. His voice was slightly shrill with excitement as he rose to his feet, hurried down from the cloud bed, and came before Ming Xin.
He gave Ming Xin's shoulder a firm pat. Though such a gesture held no practical meaning given Ming Xin's current cultivation, it was still an outlet for his emotions.
"Good! Excellent! You truly... have brought tremendous glory to your master and me!"
Daoist Jieyin followed close behind, the look of suffering on his face long replaced by a glowing complexion.
He nodded repeatedly, his voice thick with emotion. "In today's Primordial World, who would still dare look down on The West? Who would still dare claim that The West is barren and without talent?
"My disciple possesses the bearing of a Dao Ancestor! This is the greatest glory The West has seen in countless ages!"
The two Sages spoke one after another, sparing no praise, as though they wished to pour out all the pride and vindication they had suppressed for countless epochs.
Seeing his two masters so overcome, Ming Xin felt warmth rise in his heart.
He bowed slightly, his tone still gentle and humble, filled with respect for his elders. "You honor me too greatly, Masters.
"This disciple's modest achievements