The Sacred Land, a treasure nestled in Jiangnan, was in early spring, the most beautiful season of them all.
A while had passed since the Lantern Festival, and green willows spread like smoke across Jiangnan. The spring breeze gently skimmed countless storied buildings and pavilions, Broken Sword River flowed through Wu City, and numerous painted boats drifted in the breeze, their songs lingering uninterruptedly.
Gazing into the distance, this grand and ancient sacred city not only embraced the gentle charm of Jiangnan but also bore the profound heritage of the Twenty-One Provinces.
Warm sunlight, bathed in the gentle spring breeze, fell upon Su Bei. The flying boat had steadily come to a stop in a secluded corner.
Soon, a large group of Sacred Land Disciples hurried towards the Sword Sect. Shortly after, they handed a storage ring to Wenren Pingxin.
The lead Sacred Land Disciple looked at Elder Wenren humbly and said,
