"Sigh…"
Zhang Jintong sighed softly after his announcement.
All sighs were not the same; it depended on who was the one sighing. Zhang Jintong was never a "real" Celestial Master as far as orthodoxy was concerned—he was a mere figurehead propped up by those above. Moreover, Celestial Masters in the old days were always conferred by the court, which granted them legitimacy. In our modern society, the authorities would be out of their minds to confer such titles.
Consequently, his status had always been rather awkward. Nevertheless, after the all these years of presiding over the Celestial Master Temple, he had indeed established certain authority. Therefore, as he squeezed the rueful, grave moan from his throat in that husky voice, the roomful of priests shuddered in unison.
