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The old man's eyes were half closed, his face expressionless, just tilting his head slightly to glance to the side.
"Daoist Shang Yang, you have arrived late."
As soon as the voice fell, a burst of white vapor exploded behind him, and from within it, two yellow-robed Daoist nuns—one tall and one short—slowly appeared.
The taller Daoist nun wore a purple crystal crown; her demeanor was serene, holding a delicate horsetail whisk in her hand. What was peculiar about this Daoist nun was her enormous height, almost three times that of an ordinary person, nearly reaching four meters!
From afar it seemed tolerable, but standing next to the shorter Daoist nun, she looked even more exaggerated, like an enlarged version of a meditating Taoist.
The smaller Daoist nun was delicate with lovely features, with a purple crystal embedded between her eyebrows and long red patterns faintly visible on the back of her right hand.
