In the dark grand hall, silence reigned to the point where one could only hear their own breathing.
Large red lanterns adorned with dragon and phoenix patterns hung on the walls, radiating a dim, yellow light. Hundreds of candles illuminated the shadowy corners, reflecting on the many Taoist devotees bowing in worship.
Atop the central platform, the so-called "Reincarnation body of the Ancestral Dao" sat there, dressed in a golden daoist robe that was long like a wedding dress, with its four corners spread out on the four edges of the platform, slightly draping over the edge.
At this moment, the "Ancestral Dao" was bowing his head, idly arching his back, toying with a couple of large black beads in his palm, his every move exuding an air of casual nonchalance.
To those devotees, it seemed that way, as if everything the Ancestral Dao did was in harmony with the will of heaven, as though it was his natural state of being.
