Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple, beneath the withered tree.
Qi Yun sat cross-legged, his eyes half-closed. His aura blended perfectly with the secluded courtyard of the Daoist Temple.
Were it not for the occasional mountain breeze fluttering his Deep Blue Daoist Robe, he would have resembled a boulder weathered by eons of wind and frost—silent, still, and entirely undisturbed.
More than three months had passed since his return from the Outer Realm.
During these three months, he had declined all visitors and pushed away all Sect affairs. He had even locked away the Taixu Jade Order, the symbol of his authority as the Sect Leader of the Holy Sect, in his quiet meditation room with a Primordial Seal.
All the outside world's disturbances, probes, attempts to win him over, and even hidden spying were completely blocked out.
He needed time.
