The old man, seeing Ji Zhaoyang and his companions approaching, proactively docked his dilapidated little boat by the shore and asked with a smile:
"Do you young masters wish to cross the river?"
"Indeed," Ji Zhaoyang sized up the old man before him but didn't sense any traces of cultivation from him.
His mind somewhat at ease, Ji Zhaoyang took out a few pieces of gold from his Storage Ring and handed them to the old man.
"Could this serve as the fare for the boat?"
"Enough! Enough!"
The old man grinned as he accepted the gold and invited everyone onto the boat.
Once everyone was settled, the old man gently pushed off, steering the boat slowly into the river.
Sitting in the boat and looking around to confirm that the influence of the Way's rhyme in the river had been weakened, everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
The boatman, in a leisurely posture, asked the group:
