Cyan Mountain Daoist Temple.
Carrying a rosewood box that gave off a faint medicinal scent, Qian Xin Master stepped through the temple gates.
But in the next moment, he sensed something unusual.
The entirety of Cyan Mountain was shrouded in a cryptic and gloomy aura.
It even caused the flow of Spiritual Qi within the Daoist Temple to feel somewhat stagnant.
Qian Xin Master paused, his gaze falling upon the Elder Master, who sat silently in meditation beneath the ancient tree in the courtyard.
He walked forward with the wooden box, his brow slightly furrowed as he carefully studied the Elder Master's withered figure, which seemed no different from usual. In a low voice, he asked:
"You're injured?"
The Elder Master didn't even raise his eyelids. His expression was calm and placid, a stark contrast to the oppressive atmosphere around them. He simply uttered a single word:
"No."
