Yang Qing stood in silence, allowing the sanctity of Sage Mountain to envelop him, before finally releasing the last silver scroll cradled in his palms. As if guided by an unseen force, the scroll drifted gently from his grip, gliding to its designated place before disappearing beneath the mountain's grounds.
He watched it vanish, a reluctant sigh escaping his lips. The unique bond he now shared with the mountain, forged through his scroll, had granted him an intimate awareness of its governing principles and laws.
One such principle dictated that these scrolls could not exist beyond the bounds of Sage Mountain. It wasn't a matter of the scrolls' owners refusing their removal or some other restriction that he had seen commonly placed by institutions when it came to such matters, but rather —it was the very nature of their existence that made it difficult to leave with them.