Blue mountains, the setting sun, two or three thatched huts, cranes flocking in the sky.
Wang Jixuan looked at this simple little daochang before him and didn’t know where to begin with his complaints.
Jiuling Sword Venerable pointed to an empty patch of ground and said, “Build yourself a place and cultivate here. Seems the elders are all in seclusion. Jianwu asked you to wait a bit longer before worshiping at the ancestral shrine.”
“Ah—yes.” Wang Jixuan answered softly.
He leaned in and asked in a low voice, “Master, shall I help you set up a more comfortable residence?”
“No need to trouble yourself.”
“No trouble, no trouble,” Wang Jixuan laughed. “This disciple’s family has a little wealth; I have plenty of hands for work.”
With that he flicked his sleeve.
A slab-like stone wall shot out from his sleeve and hovered at the corner of the empty lot.
Light shimmered across it and the gate to the second base opened.
Jiuling Sword Venerable glanced into the portal a few times.
Peony and Xiaohuating, who had been waiting for a while, stepped out together, decked in finery.
They bowed with practiced grace and said in unison, “Greetings, Sword Venerable (Ancestral Master).”