At the moment Wu Dao crushed the Yellow Dragon Mark.
Somewhere in Guangqing Prefecture.
The vast sea of clouds churned, and a thousand peaks soared into the heavens.
At the highest point of this majestic mountain range.
Fuguang Mountain!
A band of seven-colored radiance wrapped around it.
The deep, rumbling morning bells inspired introspection.
White cranes danced in the sky, Spirit Beasts roamed the ground, and the faint, ethereal sound of chanting drifted through the air.
The Yellow Dragon Temple, renowned throughout Guangqing Prefecture as a place of immortals, was situated atop this Celestial Human Blessed Land.
During the morning's early lessons.
Deep within the Daoist Temple.
A slim Daoist with white hair but a youthful face sat cross-legged, clad in a golden Yellow Dragon Daoist Robe.
At a certain moment.
The Daoist seemed to sense something. He jolted awake from his meditation, his eyes snapping open, his face a mask of grief and fury.
