The heavens and earth lay veiled in white, the howling wind vast and hazy.

There stood a lone figure before the whipping snow, one hand held aloft, seemingly cleaving the very world in two. This image, Uyan Lan Zhu knew, she would never forget.

Gazing upon that cloaked, hemp-clothed back, she felt a power, a steadfastness, utterly unshakable in the face of nature’s fury. Unexpectedly, her thoughts drifted to the Holy Mountain, her gaze momentarily lost in a distant haze.

Within the entirety of the Cha Ha tribe, those herders who had been on the verge of fleeing or resigned to their fate, now emerged one by one. They gathered behind this cloaked figure, their mouths reciting fervent prayers such as “Cang Tu God protect us,” and sinking devoutly to their knees upon the frozen ground.

Before the great power that had stemmed the vast blizzard, a miraculous feat, the herders began to sing an ancient song:

“Mighty Dome Lu Mountain, you support the grassland’s sky. Great Cang Tu God, illuminate your good people. From the Eastern Steppes to the Western Wilds, like the sea’s eye to aged years…”

These herders possessed no extraordinary might, and this song held no discernible magic. Yet, sung with such devotion, it possessed a power to soothe the weary heart.

Jiang Wang faced the wind and snow head-on. Before his right hand, a wisp of frost-white Bu Zhou wind quietly spun. Within the all-consuming blizzard, this single wisp appeared frail, yet it was like a candle flame illuminating the long night, preventing the tempest from advancing further.

Known among the Eight Winds as the foremost in destructive power, Bu Zhou wind could even rend the violent Jing wind that followed Huang She Li. Resisting a sudden blizzard was not beyond its capabilities.

However, this “White Hair Wind” possessed a range far too vast. At present, Jiang Wang could not even perceive its limits. He could only shield the small tribe he could see, unable to trace its source or cut it off.

Within the immense blizzard, a figure slowly approached. To say “slow” was inaccurate; this person’s speed was considerable, but within the expanse of the White Hair Wind, a sense of hindered movement created the illusion of sluggishness. Jiang Wang surmised this was the powerful cultivator dispatched by the Supreme Royal Court for “disaster relief.”

Their target was clear, making straight for this tribe. Upon seeing that Jiang Wang had already provided protection, they immediately altered their course. Only a single white, round token shot rapidly through the wind.

“Mo Ye is here. After the White Hair Wind disperses, hold this token and seek out Cang Yu at the Supreme Royal Court to receive your reward!”

The voice, carried on the wind and snow, reached Jiang Wang’s ears.

Cang Yu was not a person’s name, but the name of the security organization responsible for the pasturelands. It was akin to the Patrol Inspection Office in Qi, but with more complex duties, including regular grassland patrols and the arbitration of herder disputes. The name, meaning “god’s wings,” referred to the feather of a Cang Eagle.

Cang Yu was comprised of extraordinary cultivators, known as Flying Teeth.

Jiang Wang glanced at the round token in his hand. It appeared to be fashioned from polished beast bone, snow-white in color. On its surface was engraved a floating feather, indeed the mark of the Flying Teeth. He casually put it away, not giving it much thought.

Instead, the appearance of this Flying Teeth made Jiang Wang more aware of the abruptness of the White Hair Wind. Clearly, even Cang Yu had not predicted it, and now they were scrambling to respond. Had Jiang Wang not been nearby, the fate of the Cha Ha tribe would have been uncertain.

Given the Supreme Royal Court’s control over the grasslands, such occurrences should not have been possible. Regardless of the nature of the evil or disaster, how could the Supreme Royal Court allow it to so easily affect ordinary herders? However, Jiang Wang had no intention of investigating. The pasturelands were home to many capable individuals. He was merely passing through, intending to visit old friends, with no other demands.

This White Hair Wind, arriving swiftly, also departed just as quickly. It lasted perhaps only a quarter of an hour before dissipating. The heavens and earth became clear and vast, and the air held a fresh, post-rain scent. It seemed Cang Yu had controlled the source.

Jiang Wang withdrew the Bu Zhou wind and turned back. Behind him knelt several hundred herders, men, women, old, and young. Excluding the missing or those who had not returned, it was likely the entirety of the Cha Ha tribe. The old man kneeling at the forefront trembled as he crawled forward, his mouth uttering, “God Envoy!” He lowered his head, intending to kiss Jiang Wang’s boot.

Jiang Wang, unwilling to receive such a gesture, quickly took a step back and bowed in return, saying, “Please, everyone, rise quickly. I merely did what little I could, it is not worth such a great courtesy. Moreover, I am not your God Envoy.”

As the largest God Path nation in the present world, the Cang Tu God was not stingy with miracles. Tracing back through history, the number of God Envoys was unknown, each possessing an illustrious reputation, sung across the grasslands. However, generation after generation, in today’s grassland, the title “God Envoy” referred specifically and solely to Cang Ming.

This powerful cultivator, who could not act on the Guan He Platform, wandered the grasslands year-round, clad in a cloak, battling disasters and protecting the herders. His fame spread across the grassland, his statues worshipped by many herders. Yet, his true appearance remained known to very few.

It was no wonder the Cha Ha tribe had this misunderstanding.

The old man devoutly kissed the ground, then rose and turned back, waving his hands to dismiss the crowd. “Go back, all of you, go back! Our God Envoy does not wish to reveal his identity!” Clearly, he did not believe a foreign power would help them. The powerful figure who had saved them from the White Hair Wind, the one wearing a cloak, could only be the current God Envoy.

Several hundred herders again bowed to Jiang Wang in unison, their reverence and solemnity impossible to interrupt. With expressions of gratitude or awe, they scattered.

Jiang Wang shook his head, having no intention of correcting them. He casually patted the limping date-red horse back to its feet, borrowing the power of the Xing Si Staff to soothe it slightly, restoring its vigor.

He then vaulted onto the horse and waved to the old man, “Elder, may we meet again if fate allows!”

The date-red horse then stepped forward, its hooves like a red cloud drifting into the distance.

The old tribal leader of Cha Ha knelt again, his forehead touching the ground, seeing the God Envoy off. In his heart, he felt a sense of surprise – this God Envoy seemed different from the priests at the temple. He couldn’t articulate exactly how, only that he felt less distant, less lofty.

When he lifted his head, he saw only a short-legged horse whiz by, galloping at a breakneck pace.

“Uyan Lan Zhu!” he roared in anger.

But the horse, and the girl upon it, did not stop.

She headed east. Not long after, the sound of hooves suddenly returned. Jiang Wang gently pressed down, and the date-red horse obediently halted. Turning back, he saw indeed that grassland girl with a smattering of freckles. Waving to him from afar, she galloped towards him on her small yellow horse.

“Girl, what is the matter?” Jiang Wang asked.

“I have come to thank you!” Uyan Lan Zhu said.

Jiang Wang chuckled softly. “You have all already given thanks.”

“No, no, no.” Uyan Lan Zhu shook her head rapidly. “They are thanking the God Envoy, thanking Cang Tu God, but I know you are not the God Envoy! I have not come to thank God, I have come to thank you!”

There was a healthy, fresh aura about this girl that made people feel naturally drawn to her. The first time the herders had knelt in gratitude, she had been the only one standing. Jiang Wang’s playful “scriptural debate” with her earlier was partly due to his rare state of emptiness, and partly because he found her straightforward and interesting.

At this moment, he asked with amusement, “How can you tell?”

Uyan Lan Zhu said directly, “The God Envoy will protect us, just as herders protect their cattle and sheep. But the God Envoy would not tolerate me scolding him, just as we herders would not tolerate our cattle and sheep kicking up a fuss against us.”

Beneath the cloak, Jiang Wang’s expression grew serious. This girl’s attitude towards God was indeed different from others, likely due to her extensive reading. However, these were perhaps not safe words. Uttered to a “god,” they might not be received well.

“Alright.” For the sake of protecting her, Jiang Wang steered the conversation back. “I have already received your intent of thanks.”

Uyan Lan Zhu looked at him boldly, a brilliant smile on her face. “Mo Ye is here, why do you not take off your cloak? Beneath the illuminating light of Cang Tu God, none of us need to cover ourselves too much!”

“God’s glory cannot illuminate all people,” Jiang Wang laughed. “Especially those who cover themselves like I do.”

Uyan Lan Zhu said somewhat dejectedly, “I just want to know what my benefactor looks like.”

Jiang Wang tapped his heel gently, and the date-red horse began to trot again. He merely shook the book in his hand at the girl. “Read more books. Concerning this world, the answers you seek… are all within!”

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