Yongji Building's rooftop.
The damp wind gently blew, the thunderclouds that had flashed without dropping rain the previous night were gone, leaving the morning sky clear and cloudless.
"Mr. Wu, I've prepared everything you asked for. When do we start the ritual?"
Yang Zheng set up an acacia-red eight immortals table on the rooftop, facing Pearl Tower, with a brass incense burner, fresh fruits and preserves, and three cups of tea wine on it. There were also large red candles, a stack of palm-sized paper horses, overturned sea bowls, several pieces of talisman paper, and a freshly caught, still alive turtle. There was also a charcoal brazier burning fierily on the table.
Qian Wu washed his hands clean, and gave Yang Zheng a gentle smile, "Don't be anxious."
Having said that, Qian Wu placed the turtle on the table, tapped its shell lightly, prompting the turtle that had been contracted inside to suddenly stick its head out.
Bang!
