The rumors moved faster than the light.
They traveled on merchant carts and pilgrim sandals, on the tongues of traders and the whispers of innkeepers, carried along roads and rivers and mountain paths like seeds scattered by a wind that no one could see but everyone could feel. In the taverns of Qinghe, in the markets of Lushan, in the teahouses of Pingyao and the dockside brothels of Yunjiang — the same story, told in different voices, grew legs and ran.
"Have you heard? An immortal roams the eastern valleys."
"Not just an immortal — an ancestor. A being from beyond the Golden Core realm. He appeared at the Plum Blossom Sect three weeks ago, during the orthodox coalition's invasion. He killed four Golden Core sect leaders with a wave of his hand."
"That's not the half of it. He goes to villages. Towns. He finds women — commoner women, mortal women, women drawing water from wells and washing clothes in rivers — and he… mates with them."
"Mates?"
