Xu Qinglai's expression remained calm as he watched the few people who entered the room, showing no signs of anger.
The debate just now was about the long-standing rivalry between the Zhengyi and Quanzhen sects, a topic as old as the hills, having been argued for over a thousand years without a clear victor, and only growing fiercer.
"Brother, your Daoist heart is resilient, I truly admire you."
Xu Qinglai waved his sleeve and bowed.
But as his sleeve fluttered, a gentle breeze arose, heading toward the door. In the blink of an eye, the mild breeze transformed into a raging wind, charging at the people by the door.
"Come now, brother, no need for such politeness."
Zhang Yuanyi smiled, appearing unhurried, as he raised his hand and nodded calmly.
As he raised both hands, another mysterious breeze began to blow, with a strange whistling sound, directly neutralizing the raging wind.
