Before the mountain gates of Qianmu Temple.

Two middle-aged men in short, gray-black linen clothes stood there. They were both over seven feet tall, with rather foreign features—deep-set eyes and high-bridged noses—and their hair was worn casually loose.

Most striking of all were their hands, which were tattooed with dense clusters of strange eyes. A light flickered around the eyes, making it look from a distance as if countless Sunflowers were growing on their hands.

When passersby looked at them with curiosity, one of them always responded with a cheerful smile. If anyone was curious enough to ask a question, he would patiently talk with them.

The other, however, kept a cold face and remained silent, as if the whole world owed him money.

DONG—

A distant, resonant bell toll suddenly rang out from the front hall of Qianmu Temple, echoing through the bustling hall, across the vast mountain path, and all the way to the mountain gates.

It was followed by eight more consecutive tolls. Hearing the nine tolls in total, the nearby townspeople all turned to look toward Qianmu Mountain in unison.

Hearing the bells, the two strange men before the gates exchanged a glance and politely retreated to a distance of ten zhang away.

A short while later, an Inner Sect Disciple came running out. He bowed to the two strange men, then presented them with a written reply!

These two strange men were none other than two Second Realm Cultivators from the First Sect.

The one who was always smiling cheerfully was Fire Box, and the one standing stiffly with a serious expression, like a wooden post, was Batu.

Fire Box had a drooping mustache that gave him a comical air. The wrinkles on his face seemed almost deliberate, making him easily approachable.

Batu’s physique was unlike that of other Artifact Cultivators. He was very thin, and combined with his linen clothes, he looked as frail and weightless as a bamboo pole.

It was Fire Box who received the reply. He read it from beginning to end with a friendly expression, then produced a gilt-edged formal visiting card from his robes and presented it.

The Inner Sect Disciple respectfully accepted the visiting card. As he turned to go back, hundreds of other Inner Sect Disciples came striding quickly down the mountain, and the pilgrims were politely asked to leave through the mountain gates.

After the pilgrims had left, the Inner Sect Disciples, following proper Taoist etiquette, formed welcoming processions at the mountain gates and along the path up the mountain.

Not long after, Yang Hou led the Deans of the various courts to the gate. From a distance of ten zhang, he performed a cupped-fist salute to Fire Box and Batu.

Seeing this, Fire Box and Batu both shed their previous unconventional attitudes and returned the cupped-fist salute with equal formality.

The nearby townspeople and pilgrims watched with curiosity. Some of the shrewder ones were already guessing at the duo’s identities, planning to curry favor with them when they eventually descended the mountain.

Under the crowd’s expectant gaze, Yang Hou stepped forward, stopping one zhang away from the two men. He bowed and said, "Elder Changqing invites you two seniors to the mountain for a discussion."

"We’ll trouble you to lead the way."

Just as the rumors said, Fire Box was amiable and approachable. Batu was also as described in the tales: he didn’t utter a single word. Yet, he showed no hint of arrogance; his expression was merely cold and wooden, like a mute who could not speak.

The pair followed Yang Hou through the mountain gates. Escorted by the host of Inner Sect Deans, they slowly ascended the steps behind the gates. When they reached the Inner Sect plaza, a disciple from the Mountain Peak Dojo delivered another written reply.

"Daoist Changqing is truly courteous."

Fire Box took out a brand-new booklet of gilt-edged cards, wrote out a formal reply on the spot, and had it sent off.

By the time their party reached the front of the Mountain Peak Dojo, Wang Ping was already waiting for them. Dressed in a formal, dark blue Daoist Robe, he had clearly been there for some time. Yu Lian’s massive body was coiled around the beam above the gate to the garden, and her vertical pupils swept over the two men’s souls with the scrutinizing gaze of a mistress of the house.

"Greetings, Daoist Master..."

Fire Box performed a deep, formal bow, and Batu, behind him, silently did the same. This was an acknowledgement of their host Wang Ping’s power.

"You two Fellow Daoists are too courteous. Please, come in and be seated." Wang Ping stepped aside, making an inviting gesture.

"We wouldn’t dare. After you, Fellow Daoist." Fire Box stopped when he was still one step below Wang Ping’s position, holding out an arm to stop Batu behind him as well.

Wang Ping studied Fire Box intently for a moment, then broke into a cheerful smile. "Fellow Daoist, please..." With that, he dispensed with the formalities and strode through the gate of the Dao Field. Yu Lian slid down smoothly, shrank her form, and circled once around Wang Ping before coiling around his left arm. From her perch, she once again fixed the two men with her proprietary gaze.

’That little old man with the goatee... his soul is practically stained red with blood. He appears to be entangled in karma, yet his soul is incredibly condensed and completely unaffected by it. He also has an extreme reverence for order. The mute following him must be practicing a special Cultivation Technique; his soul is in a state of complete silence. Certain Spirit Bodies seem to be drawn to him. If he were to activate his soul, he would be instantly swarmed by them.’

Yu Lian communicated this to Wang Ping in his Spirit Sea, relating everything she had just ascertained.

Hearing this, a flicker of curiosity crossed Wang Ping’s face. He then led his guests to a tea table that was already set in the middle of the garden. As for Yang Hou and the others, despite their immense curiosity, they could only stop at the garden’s entrance.

"Top-quality sandalwood. Even a cut above what the Xia Dynasty’s Imperial Family uses."

Following Wang Ping’s invitation, Fire Box sat in the guest of honor’s seat beside the host’s, with Batu taking the next seat over. Upon catching the scent of the sandalwood from the table, Fire Box closed his eyes and took two deep, appreciative breaths.

"So you’ve visited the Xia Imperial Family, Fellow Daoist?"

"Twenty years ago, I wished to come to Zhongzhou to spread my teachings. I first paid a visit to the Xia Imperial Family. The Emperor received me warmly, but regretfully informed me that my mission was impossible. Less than two days after I left the Imperial Palace, someone taught me exactly why I couldn’t."

Fire Box extended his left arm, rolled up his sleeve, and said, "Look..."

There, on his left arm, was a conspicuous sun sigil of the True Yang Sect. It stood in stark contrast to the other sun-like tattoos with strange eyes that covered his skin.

"This mark was branded directly onto my Spirit Vein," Fire Box explained with a cheerful laugh. "It’s deeply compatible with it, too. If I wanted to remove it, I’d have to scrape off a whole layer of my Spirit Vein. I only managed to survive that encounter thanks to the Order Rules of Zhongzhou. Your Order is magnificent, not fanatical like the Sun God Sect’s."

Wang Ping offered no comment. He simply rinsed the teacups in a slow, deliberate manner and poured each of the two men a cup of the previously prepared tea. Then, with an expression even more amiable than Fire Box’s, he gestured and said, "Please, drink."

"And such fine tea, at that. Ever since arriving in this land, I’ve fallen in love with the local ’clear tea.’ I hear the roasting method was passed down by you, Fellow Daoist?" 𝙛𝒓𝓮𝙚𝔀𝒆𝒃𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝒐𝒎

"It is but a minor art, hardly worth mentioning."

"It is often through minor arts that great truths are seen, while the Great Dao often speaks only of small ones."

"You think too highly of me, Fellow Daoist. How could such a common method hold any great truth?"

"You are too humble, Fellow Daoist..."

Wang Ping had no patience for such banter. He offered a smile and repeated his invitation, "Please, drink."

Fire Box fell silent. He and Batu raised their cups and drank the tea in a manner nearly identical to Wang Ping’s. Afterward, Yu Lian’s voice chimed in from his Spirit Sea. ’They seem to be mimicking you, and they’re doing a remarkably good job of it.’

Once the tea was finished, Wang Ping took the initiative. "I have a general idea of why you two Fellow Daoists are here," he said. "However, I must be clear: I cannot give you what you’re looking for. That said, feel free to state your case."