A Martial Saint's ritual, the Bai family would certainly not expose to the public eye. Yet there were countless General Steed-Swift temples within Hantai Prefecture, comparable to the Dragon King Temples of Jianghuai—the incense offerings of the common people carried their own willpower, nourishing the ritual’s growth.
The largest temple lay outside Hantai Prefecture City, at the foot of Ice Mirror Mountain. Even late at night, it blazed with lantern light, the steps crowded with endless worshippers.
There were even grand masters with neatly trimmed beards, appearing from afar like two brushstrokes of ink, riding sedan chairs up the mountain as commoners on both sides parted to make way.
“Such vivid colors.”
Liang Qu stood on a rooftop, gazing into the distance. Though the general’s temple was somewhat dim under the night, its colors remained clearly visible. Utterly different from the style of deities in the Central Plains or Jiangnan, the general’s temple was heavily made up, its plaque a strikingly bright blue.
The entire gatehouse could only be described as dazzling. Never mind the sacrificial temples. Even the residential architecture of Peaceful Sun and Hantai differed greatly.