Winter snow fluttered down, a cool breeze gently brushing by, refreshing.
Dark swallows flitted through the thin mist, circling the exquisite courtyard.
On the mountain peak where Wenren Pingxin resided, groups of disciples passing by that refined courtyard all slowed their pace and lightened their steps, moving so quietly they could not be heard.
In twos and threes, they walked together, and one could faintly hear a lilting melody drifting through the green surroundings.
Some female disciples clutched their hands, gazing at them in a daze. These were the hands that had once been fortunate enough to touch the Fifth Elder's robes. They giggled foolishly, somewhat anticipating the arrival of night.
Everyone feared disturbing the Fifth Elder's discussion with the Acting Sect Leader.
They discussed in hushed tones:
"The Fifth Elder is an eternal monument in our hearts!"
