Three days after Qingyuan True Monarch's departure, Qi Yun left the Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple.
He did not make a grand fanfare of it. On an ordinary morning, he simply tucked the Mountain and River Cauldron into his sleeve and stepped out through the Daoist Temple's mottled wooden doors.
The withered tree remained, as did the courtyard, but the figure that had sat cross-legged beneath the tree for an untold number of days and nights was no longer there.
Cai Shen poked his head out from the Mountain and River Cauldron. "Where are we going?"
"The Sword Pavilion," Qi Yun said flatly.
Cai Shen paused in surprise but didn't ask further. He knew Qi Yun had his own considerations.
A Nine-Colored Auspicious Cloud supported Qi Yun and the Mountain and River Cauldron, slowly rising toward the southeastern horizon.
At the very moment he left the Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple, the wisp of residual thought in his sleeve gave an extremely faint throb. Qi Yun sensed it but paid it no mind.
