Zuo Ci sat cross-legged in the Jingling Palace, silently burning incense and praying. Yu Ji and Zixu had sent only a disciple each, which clearly hinted at some untold stories.
As Zuo Ci was burning incense and praying, a mysterious wave swept over him. A layer of light, like that of precious jade, emerged on his body, but it still failed to block the ripple.
"Sigh," Zuo Ci sighed, opened his eyes, and began to perform calculations with his fingers extended from the wide sleeves. "Indeed, troubled times produce heroes, another Spiritual Talent of this magnitude. It can even affect us, but that's to be expected, after all, we are men, not immortals."
"Master!" a Taoist dressed in green robes bowed to Zuo Ci and asked, "Why do you stay here? With your power, who in the world can compare to you? Why accept the invitation of Liu Yan to come to Mount Tai?"