Clad in radiant, cloud-like garments, a youthful figure was closely attended by an old man in yellow robes.

It was none other than the budding Daoist of the Magnificent Righteous Sect, who had made a name for himself in the Battle of the Mandarin Duck Isle. He hailed from the Desolate Peach Pavilion of the Ten Thousand Mountains.

The young Daoist disembarked the ferry at Oxhorn Crossing, casting a gaze around. “Young Master, your hometown is truly a treasure trove of auspicious energies. It is said that the land nurtures its people, and you, Young Master, are a prime example. Even the name of this Huaihuang County is auspicious – when the locust trees bloom yellow, the scholars of the land are busied with examinations.”

Interesting indeed, full of substance.

Years ago, a miniature Luminous Pearl Grotto-Heaven had taken root here. Downgraded from a grotto-heaven to a blessed land, the younger generation of this town seemed to have undergone a silent, yet profound, trial.

His parents and elder sister, along with her husband, had returned to the Northern Ju-Lu Continent. His mother, however, still worried about their shop at the foot of Lion Peak.

Accompanying his Young Master to the town, the young Daoist glanced into the distance and let out a surprised “Oh!” He beckoned, “This… ahem, this young brother, come over and let us chat.”

The Left Guardian of Dragon Riding Alley hesitated for a moment, glancing at Li Huai, then at the old man in yellow robes. After weighing the pros and cons, he tucked his tail between his legs and trotted over with a fawning attitude.

The young Daoist lowered his head and bent down, asking with a gentle smile, “Young brother, since you have already achieved corporeal transformation, why do you still keep such a low profile and hide your brilliance?”

The yellow dog hung its head low.

A story too complex to tell. Words caught in its throat.

So what if it had achieved corporeal transformation? What was this so-called immortal life? It was the days when Pei Qian wasn’t in Dragon Riding Alley, nor on Fallen Mountain!

It never wanted to be the Left Guardian of Dragon Riding Alley. That little charcoal brat had forcefully bestowed the title upon him. The bleakest times were when that little charcoal brat was attending the village school. Every time school ended, passing by the roadside outhouse, the little charcoal brat would give him a strange look and a playful smile, asking if he was hungry.

Li Huai crouched down and ruffled the yellow dog’s head.

Seeing that the Left Guardian of Dragon Riding Alley seemed rather nervous, Li Huai didn’t let the young Daoist drag him into any formal greetings or pleasantries.

At an old village school, Li Huai had to call in favors with acquaintances in the county government’s household department to get a key.

This school, where children of the past had first opened their minds, still belonged to the jurisdiction of Huaihuang County.

During his time at Mandarin Duck Isle near the Confucian Temple in the Central Earth Continent, Li Huai had discussed something with Chen Ping’an.

Learning that Chen Ping’an indeed had the idea of becoming a teacher, but not in his hometown, Li Huai asked why he didn’t request this place from the Great Li Dynasty. It was a perfectly reasonable request, and not excessive. At worst, the Chen clan of Dragon Tail Creek and he could run their own schools separately.

Chen Ping’an’s response saddened Li Huai somewhat.

Nowadays, there were only a few local residents left in the old family home in town.