Moongaze Lake.

Late autumn had brought frost. The trees along the shore were coated in rime, and the roads were covered with ice. As the carriage wheels rolled over, they made crisp cracking sounds. A whip flicked, and murmurs from passersby by the roadside drifted over.

"The north has been in turmoil for quite some time. Lately, it's only been getting worse."

"Isn't that so... Quite a few have died... Didn't even a Daoist Master fall recently?"

The scattered chatter outside drifted into the carriage, prompting the young man inside to lift the curtain. Turning his head, he smiled and said, "It's not often Fourth Uncle comes out of seclusion. It just so happens that the [Dawn Guest Pavilion] has a new performance. First, we can spend some time together, and second... I've long heard the scenery along this lake is quite beautiful, so I thought you might enjoy it as well."

Li Zhouluo smiled faintly and replied, "I was wondering where you found the leisure to ride in a carriage. So that's the reason... As for this play, ever since Zhouming went into seclusion, there are fewer people trying to please him, and fewer willing to spend lavishly. A new performance like this is quite rare."

The young man was naturally Li Jiangzong. He was far more tactful than his father and did not share the same deep affection for his grand-uncle Li Chengqi. This visit was clearly meant to ease relations. Li Zhouluo was not only at Foundation Establishment Realm but also of distinguished background. How could he be offended?

Li Zhouluo understood this as well. That day, he had instinctively agreed with Li Zhoufang and told him not to disturb the Daoist Master rashly. Yet after returning to the lake for a day or two, he had quietly regretted it. Setting aside the family elders, Li Zhoufang himself had never treated him poorly.

Now, with the intention to apologize, he naturally paid his full respects. The two of them traveled together to Lijing Prefecture, where they saw ancient residences spread across the land.

Many of the families that had once departed from this place had now risen to become high-ranking cultivators. Every house in this ancestral land was worth remembering. Each year, they returned here for ancestral rites. Though it appeared old and worn, it remained the most prominent place by the lake, unmatched even by the dense forest.

After weaving through the green-brick houses for a while, the two stopped before a large restaurant. The owner had long been waiting outside, his eyes bright as he led them in. He remained respectful the entire way, like a humble attendant.

"Honored sirs... this way, please!"

Naturally, many people nearby glanced over. Those who recognized them could not help but feel a jolt of alarm and lowered their heads in silence.

Li Zhouluo did not care much. Unlike Li Zhouming, he only came to enjoy himself once in many years, and as a Foundation Establishment Realm cultivator, no one dared say anything. They made their way to the top floor, where a fine stage stood at the center. Singing rose and fell, the sound graceful and pleasing.

The owner had naturally reserved the best seats for them. The two took their place at a central table. Li Jiangzong poured wine attentively and spoke many courteous words before finally lowering his voice and saying, "My father was truly overwhelmed with grief that day, and his words were improper. Fourth Uncle, please be understanding..."

Li Zhouluo grew somewhat sentimental. "I was also too rash!"

He sipped his wine and spoke at length about the brotherly bonds of the past. Meanwhile, the surrounding noise grew louder as people seemed to be cheering. He raised his brow and glanced over, listening as the stage sang, "In troubled times, countless are slain... Of my whole family, only I remain. A thin fate deserves Heaven's punishment, a thin fate deserves Heaven's killing..."

Li Zhouluo frowned and asked, "What is this supposed to be..."

Li Jiangzong looked slightly embarrassed. He had always been busy and never had time to watch these performances. He had only heard a rough outline to use in conversation, so he quickly smiled and said, "This is the [Lament For Passing Waters]. I've heard it's about a clansman whose entire family was killed. He fell into ruin and knelt in the wild forest, seeking death. Unexpectedly, his brother attained immortality and lifted him to the heavens to become an immortal as well... It's a tale of brotherly bonds..."

Still uneasy, he added with a smile, "This piece was brought back by Uncle Zhouming from a neighboring prefecture years ago for private performances. It was only shown within the family. I heard he even had the elder watch it... It's only now being released."

Li Xuanxuan had never cared for such things in the past. It was only after Li Ximing mentioned them that he went once or twice. In recent years, his health had declined, and he no longer drew talismans. Instead, he began to find such performances rather novel.

"Oh!" Li Zhouluo fell silent at once and nodded as he watched.

Yet he had never liked such things, so his gaze did not linger. Instead, it unexpectedly fell upon a middle-aged man by the side of the stage.

The man was dressed in plain clothes. His face was long and narrow, with a pair of phoenix eyes that gave him a dignified and composed air. Yet he wore a Daoist crown on his head. Standing amid the bustling crowd, he appeared clear and unworldly. Though no cultivation could be discerned, he possessed a unique bearing that made those around him give him silent respect and leave a small space around him.

At his waist hung two small, ancient-looking gourds, each about the size of a fist, tied together with a purple cord. On the other side were six ornamental short swords, arranged neatly in a row, three on each side.

"Once a clan ruled a whole prefecture... How many storms have since stilled? North and south, heads rolled like grain... The people suffered at men's hands, resentment never fading through the ages!"

At this moment, the surrounding noise surged like waves, filled with discussion. He too nodded and smiled faintly, his eyes full of admiration.

What an outstanding figure.

Li Zhouluo took a few more glances and nodded inwardly. Cultivators were often exceptional, but natural bearing and presence were harder to come by. Unless one altered their appearance, such qualities could not easily be changed. Among all the cultivators he had seen, few could compare to this man.

"Fourth Uncle!"

Li Jiangzong's voice pulled him back to his senses. Li Zhouluo chuckled and said, "This is indeed the ancestral land. It produces people of such bearing."

Li Jiangzong seemed thoughtful as he looked toward the stage. The two of them took a sip of wine together. An old man stepped onto the stage, clad in tattered robes, and began to sing, "In years past, this forest was a haunt of ghosts... where great demonic beasts lurked in secret... Ghostly winds once swept men away..."

Li Zhouluo shook his head. The imaginations of low-level cultivators were indeed wild, but with his higher cultivation, it all felt too much like ancient tales of immortals and ghosts, and he found little interest in it. Just as he was about to speak, he heard a soft sound. Someone had come to stand beside their table.

This seat commanded a full view of the place and had been reserved by Li Jiangzong long ago. The sudden appearance of someone made him slightly displeased. Just as he was about to look up and speak, Li Zhouluo turned around as if startled, his pupils instantly dilating.

The man beside the table wore fine scale armor. He was tall, with broad shoulders and a narrow waist, well-shaped brows, and a wide face. Though not particularly handsome, he gave off a presence that could not be met directly. Just standing there, he pressed down on them with an overwhelming sense of pressure.

A Daoist Master?!

It was Li Zhouwei. Li Jiangzong had only seen him a few times, but how could he fail to recognize his family's Daoist Master? His entire body tensed, a chill shooting up his spine to the back of his mind, leaving him unable to speak.

Yet everyone around seemed completely unable to see him, all focused on the stage. Li Zhouwei remained calm, hands behind his back, his golden eyes blazing as he too looked ahead.

Li Zhouluo's mind went blank. For a moment, he wanted to leap from his seat and bow, but he could not move. He could only pretend to remain calm. After hesitating for a long moment, he said with trembling caution, "Greetings... Daoist Master!"

Li Zhouwei gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. His golden eyes remained fixed on the middle-aged man below the stage. The man seemed completely unaware, watching the performers as they acted out grief and longing, his own expression even mirroring them with a trace of sorrow.

"Drifting with no way forward or back, how can a ghost match immortal talent? And that one who became immortal! Across the four continents, the mountains and rivers shine with Bright Light~ all heed his command, the five ghost envoys summon wind and thunder~ all by his decree..."

The drawn-out tune echoed through the air. A slight change appeared in Li Zhouwei's gaze. He tilted his head faintly and said softly, "Step farther away. Dharma Protector Ding is waiting for you outside."