In late April, a sudden downpour began.
Yet, the number of worshipers flocking to Qianmu Temple only increased. The plaza at the mountain's base was nearly overflowing with sedan chairs. To the common faithful, a torrential downpour signified the fury of the gods.
In front of the Mountain Peak Dojo, Yang Hou, under the gaze of the Gatekeeper, straightened his Daoist Robe.
Ever since Zhao Qing's failed promotion, he had become several times more cautious in all his dealings. Furthermore, the Water Spirit Vein that Zhao Qing hadn't used for his advancement now needed to be reassigned.
Whether his branch would receive it depended entirely on Wang Ping's decision. If they didn't get it, they would have to wait another hundred years, as the next Spirit Vein was promised to Sanhe Temple by agreement.
"Sixth Master, if you could please hurry. Grandmaster is waiting inside."
The Gatekeeper reminded him softly.
"Right. Let's go in."
