Qingyun Temple.
Eternal Mystery Hall.
Han Zhao sat cross-legged, circulating his cultivation technique to refine the elixir, when suddenly an aged voice sounded at his ear.
"Disciple, come here. Your master has matters to entrust to you."
Han Zhao did not dare tarry, at once transforming into a stream of light and flying to Eternal Prosperity Hall.
There he saw his master sitting upright upon the altar, beard and hair trailing to the ground, breath feeble, countless restriction lights binding like chains, sealing his soul and flesh within three feet, slowing the passing of his lifespan.
A yellow ox sat coiled to the right of the altar, eyes dim and mournful.
Han Zhao bowed in salute: "Greetings, Master. Greetings, Uncle Ox."
"Good disciple, my lifespan draws to its end. I summoned you to entrust my affairs!"
