Atop the floating Golden Palace.
An old man in simple clothes sat before a black and white chessboard in the center of the great hall. His full head of white hair was meticulously combed. He had no discernible aura, much less any Vast Righteous Qi, and appeared no different from an ordinary person.
However, the Blood Qi within him was vigorous, brimming with life force. He seemed nothing like an old man nearing the end of his days.
His eyes were fixed on the chessboard, never straying.
JINGLE!
The wind chime on the hanging placard at the entrance—carved with the four words, "Watching Chess, Axe Rots"—rang out. A disciple in a Confucian robe entered the great hall, bowed, and said:
"Master, someone wishes to see you. They invite you to meet with them and travel together."
"Who is it?"
The old man in simple clothes did not look up from the chessboard, asking nonchalantly.
