In the depths of Shenxu Temple, where no one knew how deep it was, stood an ancient Taoist temple.
Last night's light rain had given way to a bright sunny morning, and on the steps of the temple, a middle-aged man in a Taoist robe was walking. He had an extraordinary appearance and a furrowed brow, as if something weighed heavily on his mind. He was holding a bucket of water and was stepping back up the stone steps into the temple.
Just then, another man in a Taoist robe came out of a side door, his expression indifferent and his eyes cold. He too was holding an empty bucket, seemingly also heading out to fetch water.
As both men walked with their heads down, at the moment their shoulders brushed past each other, the man with the indifferent expression suddenly stopped and whispered, "Penglai is finished."
Snap.
The man with the furrowed brow stopped abruptly, "Lu Cang, did you say something to the people of Shu Mountain?"
