166: Chapter 165 True Lord Qingchuan

The transmission talisman arrived three days ago.

It was the type exclusive to the Wanze True Mansion; the talisman paper was a pale gold, and the runes on it were far more complex than the ones Xiao Wangzhou and his group used.

When the talisman paper landed in Yun Ming's hand, it felt scorching hot, and then a strange voice emanated from the talisman, neither cold nor warm, carrying the distinct aloofness of a major Sect: "The Sect Master of Wanze True Mansion is about to come out of seclusion. Having heard that a Fellow Daoist is stationed here, I have prepared a modest gift and will visit in person. I shall arrive in half a month."

There was no room for negotiation; it was not "May I visit," but "I will visit in person."

The Sect Master of Wanze True Mansion, a Nascent Soul True Lord, was coming personally.

Yun Ming clutched the transmission talisman, silent for a long time.

He was not afraid of meeting.

The disguise of the Fuli Heaven-Concealing Record could not be seen through even by those at the Soul Transformation stage.

What he feared was having to fight. Once he fought, his disguise would be useless.

His cultivation at the Golden Core Middle Stage was like an ant before a Nascent Soul True Lord. He could walk sideways in the Golden Core Stage and even retreat unscathed before a Late Golden Core Stage expert, but against a Nascent Soul, he had no certainty.

He put the transmission talisman away and continued to Cultivate.

Worrying was useless. What was meant to come would come.

Half a month passed in the blink of an eye.

That morning, the mist over the sea had not yet dissipated, and the sun had just risen from the eastern horizon, dyeing the entire ocean a faint gold.

Yun Ming stood on Wanghai Peak, gazing at the gray sea in the distance.

He did not wear his usual moon-white robe today, having changed into a deep cyan Daoist robe, his hair neatly tied up.

It was not for show, but because he felt that dressing more formally showed respect.

Respect for the other party's cultivation, respect for their status, and respect for the fact that they did not directly attack his door.

A black dot appeared on the sea.

The dot was very small, so small that it was almost invisible to the naked eye.

But it moved very fast, becoming several times larger in just a few breaths.

It was a streak of light, not the usual gold or white, but deep blue, like the color of the deep sea.

The streak of light was not blinding, but it carried a steady, heavy aura, and wherever it passed, the mist on the sea was dispelled.

Yun Ming took a deep breath and activated the Fuli Heaven-Concealing Record.

The Qi within his body began to change, the Spiritual Pressure of the Golden Core Middle Stage was suppressed, and in its place was the pressure of the Late Nascent Soul Stage he had been feigning for five years.

As vast as the sea, as deep as an abyss.

He stood there, his robes fluttering slightly in the sea breeze, his gaze calmly watching the approaching deep blue light.

The light stopped above Wanghai Peak.

The radiance dissipated, and a man stepped out from within.

He was a man who looked to be only about forty years old.

His figure was slender, his shoulders and back straight, standing there like an unsheathed longsword.

His face was incredibly handsome, with distinct facial features, eyebrows like distant mountains, and eyes like bright stars. His nose was high and straight, his lips thin; when he wasn't smiling, he carried a touch of coldness, but the corners of his mouth seemed to forever hold a faint curve, as if he were smiling, or perhaps mocking.

His skin was very fair, not the sickly kind of white, but the white of someone who had spent years in an Immortal Cave without seeing the sun, delicate as porcelain, yet with the luster of jade.

His hair was long, black as ink, tied high with a white jade crown. The jade crown was carved with intricate cloud patterns, and in the center was embedded a blue gemstone the size of a thumb, the color of which was the same as his light, deep blue like the sea. A few strands of hair hung down from the edge of the jade crown, falling beside his ears and behind his neck, fluttering gently with the sea breeze.

He wore a deep blue robe, the color of which was identical to the gemstone on his jade crown. The material of the robe was clearly not ordinary; it shimmered with faint spiritual light in the morning sun, as if tanned from the hide of some Yao Beast, or perhaps woven from some kind of spiritual silk from the deep sea. The edges of the robe were embroidered with silver cloud patterns, and his waist was cinched with a belt of the same color, from which hung a jade pendant, completely emerald green without a single impurity.

On his back was a sword, the scabbard was black, the material indistinguishable, and the hilt was wrapped in deep blue silk thread. The sword had no decorations, so plain that it did not look like something a Nascent Soul True Lord should carry.

He stood still in front of Yun Ming, about three zhang away.

Looking down at Yun Ming, his gaze was not sharp, not aggressive, just faint, as if examining an object.

Yun Ming was also examining him.

This was the Sect Master of Wanze True Mansion. A Nascent Soul True Lord. The most powerful person in this sea area. There was no arrogance or aloofness common to Sect Masters of major Sects on him, nor was there the condescending pressure of a Nascent Soul True Lord. He just stood there, quietly, like an old pine tree rooted on the edge of a cliff, like a reef washed by the sea for thousands of years.

The two stood facing each other like this, neither speaking. The deep blue robe, the deep cyan robe, fluttering gently in the sea breeze.

Finally, it was Yun Ming who spoke first. He turned slightly, raised his hand in a gesture of invitation, his voice flat, neither servile nor overbearing: "Sect Master has come from afar, please come into the small building for a chat."

Ji Qingchuan glanced at him, without standing on ceremony, and landed lightly on Wanghai Peak.

The two walked side by side, passing through the courtyard, and pushed the door open.

The small building was not large, the first floor was a hall. A wooden table, a few wooden chairs, and a coarse cloth tablecloth with blue patterns on a white background spread on the table.

On the table were a few coarse porcelain plates, holding things—a dish of salted fish, a dish of pickled vegetables, a dish of peanuts, and a dish of sliced salted duck eggs.

There was also a pot of wine, the pot was ceramic, a small piece of the spout was missing, wrapped in a circle of cloth by Qin Wan. The wine cups were also coarse porcelain, as wide as a bowl, the kind used by villagers to drink.

Ji Qingchuan glanced at the things on the table without saying anything.

He sat down on the wooden chair, sitting very naturally, without disdain, and without deliberately trying to fit in. Just like sitting in his own grand hall, his back straight, his robes smooth, his hands like white jade placed on his knees, his knuckles distinct.

Yun Ming sat down opposite him, picked up the wine pot, and poured wine into both cups. The wine was rice wine brewed by Old Chen in the village, not strong, sweet, with a slightly sour aftertaste. Yun Ming was used to drinking it and thought it was fine. Ji Qingchuan picked up the cup, took a sip, put it down, with no expression on his face.

He spoke, his voice not loud, but very clear, "This Seat is Ji Qingchuan, Dao title Qingchuan. I do not know how to address Fellow Daoist?"

Yun Ming nodded: "I have long heard of you. Fellow Daoist may call me Ming Yun."

Ji Qingchuan did not ask him what he had "long heard of." He just picked up the cup, took another sip of wine, and then put it down. His gaze fell on Yun Ming's face, pausing for a while, as if examining something he couldn't quite understand.

"This Seat has one thing I do not understand," Ji Qingchuan said, "Why does the True Lord choose this kind of place to open a Daoist temple? The Spiritual Qi is thin, resources are scarce, and there isn't even a decent Spiritual Vein. And you still have to protect such a group of Mortals."

He paused, his gaze moving from Yun Ming to the dish of salted fish on the table, and then back: "The True Lord has lived here for some years, right? This Seat has checked, and people from the Tianshui Sect say that the True Lord has been here for more than ten years. More than ten years, and the True Lord has not passed down any Daoist techniques, has not found anyone to inherit your mantle, and has not even let these Mortals give birth to any Immortal Sprouts. This Seat does not quite understand, what exactly is the True Lord aiming for?"