At dawn, the first light of day appeared.
Behind a faint mist, a purple-bearded white dragon weaved through the clouds, its breath sounding like a deep rumble of thunder, slowly spreading over the entire Jianyang Prefecture.
The task of moving clouds and summoning rain belonged to the celestial court; there were specialized immortals assigned to this duty.
But this white dragon wasn’t so much summoning rain as it was transporting water, moving water from other places into this prefecture.
If an ordinary wild demon tried to do this, or caused any disaster, they would surely be struck down by the celestial court.
But this dragon served by imperial decree.
Although its actions weren’t exactly by the rules, generally no one would interfere.
“Don’t daydream!”
In front of the earth temple, an old man threw his cane.
The wooden staff flew up and lightly, but firmly, tapped the white dragon on the forehead.
“Ouch!”
Ziyang cried out in pain, reluctantly withdrawing his searching gaze.
Sect Leader Shen had disappeared along with that monk, and combined with what the earth god said before, Ziyang no longer had any heart to arrange the rain, just waiting for an opportunity to quietly slip away.