The sound of rain wasn't shrill, yet it was like countless fine needles, silently piercing into the circulation of Blood Qi.
The Red Robe Guest frowned slightly.
He could feel that the flow of his Blood Qi had slowed by a fraction.
Though for the moment it was only a trace, it already showed signs of gradually worsening. A faint hypnotic intent was also beginning to ripple within his Divine Sea and Upper Dantian.
The Heaven-folding Sleeve Crane spread its long wings, wing-tips dragging ribbons of white cloud like sleeves. Its body was slender, crane neck held high; as its twin wings unfurled, a folded curtain of sky actually appeared above the Cloud Lake.
Within that sky curtain, there was a Cloud Pot Daoist.
Then a second Cloud Pot Daoist.
A third, a fourth, a fifth...
