In the sixty-seventh year since the founding of the Qingyuan Sect, the sun shone brightly and a gentle spring breeze blew. It was like a mother's hand caressing the cheeks of all living things, awakening life that had slumbered through the winter.
The air was filled with the scent of freshly turned earth and the fragrance of countless flowers—the uniquely sweet aroma of spring.
Two years had passed since the death of Hao Shi, and the duel between Fang Qingyuan and Chunyu Hua, which had once caused a massive stir, was now rarely mentioned.
Cultivators in the outside world were busy with their training, their battles, and their explorations; everyone had their own affairs to attend to.
The people of the Qingyuan Sect were also busy, though with different matters entirely.
At the Qingyuan Sect's pier, Lou Yuan disembarked from a Tier Three Flying Boat, making his way down with the crowd. After three years away, he had finally returned to the land that had nurtured him.
