The night was subtly astir.
In the grand hall of the Qingcheng Sect, long since repaired and now more magnificent than ever, Sect Leader Master Weichen faced the Statue of the Three Pristine Ones, stroking his beard in silent contemplation.
A moment later, six Daoists filed in together.
"Sect Leader!"
"Weiyun, you have managed the Qingcheng Sect well recently. I see our disciples are full of vigor. Excellent."
The old Daoist with white hair and beard, standing foremost among the group, bowed solemnly and replied, "It is merely my duty, Senior Brother. It is all thanks to you, Sect Leader, for your strategic planning and foresight."
"Mm. The current Sect Leader of the Qingcheng Sword Sect is quite decisive, to abandon such a vast enterprise and extricate himself."
Master Weichen's eyes narrowed slightly. His square face was framed by sharp, sword-like brows, giving him an intimidating aura of natural authority.
