"The Crown Prince of Nanyin?"
The small golden figure, Cai Shen, materialized on Qi Yun's shoulder. His chubby little face was full of astonishment, his small eyes wide and round.
"You saw him? On Spirit Mountain?
In that pile of bald-headed Arhats from just now?"
A gray, hazy current where purity and turbidity had yet to separate flowed like an eternal river, enacting the most primitive cycle of creation and destruction between Earth Fire, wind, and water.
A seemingly ordinary slab of bluestone floated incongruously in the center of this chaos. Qi Yun's true form sat cross-legged upon it, his Deep Blue Daoist Robe blending almost perfectly with the surrounding chaos.
"Mm."
Qi Yun replied slowly, his voice sounding vast and clear in the boundless chaos.
"He was concealed extremely well. His aura blended almost perfectly with the Buddha's Rhyme of the surrounding Buddhist Cultivator Arhats.
