The young Cultivator walked slowly. Unlike Ye Fengsheng's blindfolded steps, each of his movements seemed as if he were crawling. He was not dressed in the traditional black and white robe, nor did he carry a wooden sword. Walking on the sidewalk, he frequently caught the attention of passersby.
Perhaps it was because the young monk was so handsome, or because he had encountered a Taoist priest in a place closest to the world of Immortals, or perhaps because in the modern society dominated by high technology, a fraudster had appeared.
Amidst the varied glances of the people, the young Cultivator walked into a nearby inn. If someone observed closely, they would notice that every step he took was identical in distance, and even his foot positions could form a straight line.
