Even as he said it, he felt the idea was absurd. The White Cloud Sect? It was the number one martial arts academy in Yun Port City, the Martial Arts Holy Land that all the young people for hundreds, even thousands of miles around, dreamed of entering.
Every single person who got into the White Cloud Sect was either exceptionally talented or had a powerful background. They were the scions of prestigious families, the prized students of famous masters, or prodigies who were specially recruited.
And what was he, Ze Yang? Just a country bumpkin from a poor mountain village who had just barely broken through to the Early-stage Mingjin. He didn’t even know which way the White Cloud Sect’s gates opened. What made him think he could get in?
"Alright."
Ze Yang thought he must be hearing things. ’It’s this easy to join the White Cloud Sect?’
He didn’t dare overthink it, terrified the man would change his mind. He scrambled to pull off his shirt and pants.
"Senior, here are my clothes. Take a look..."
The next second, the clothes levitated into the air and vanished deep into the forest.
...
A short while later, a fully dressed Lu Yun strolled over from the distance.
He came to a stop before the dumbstruck Ze Yang. "Young man, what is your name?"
Ze Yang lifted his head and stared blankly at the old man before him. He suddenly felt that he had seen this face somewhere before.
Just then, an image flashed through Ze Yang’s mind: it was a stone statue he had seen at the city gate the last time he went into town.
The statue stood in the most prominent position, surrounded by a fence and wreathed in flowers. Passersby would unconsciously stop to take a second look.
The statue depicted an old man in a black Zhongshan suit, leaning on a Wisteria Spirit Staff. The base of the statue was inscribed with his many legendary deeds, and at the end, in large characters, were his title and name: Governor of Yun Port City, Lu Yun!
Lu Yun was Yun Port City’s Lord Lu, the Daxia New Country’s first Grandmaster of Divine Intent, the undisputed master of this city.
He was, in the hearts of all Martial Artists in Yun Port City, an insurmountable mountain—an existence that could only be looked up to in awe.
Ze Yang’s mind went blank. After a long while, he finally managed to stammer, "I am... Ye Zeyang!"
Lu Yun smiled faintly. "Very good. I am Lu Yun. When you get to the city, remember to come to the Lu Family. I’ll remember your name."
With that, he flicked his hand casually, and a faint purple glow burst from the tips of his five fingers.
In the next instant, the surrounding clumps of grass were pulled up by the roots. Countless long blades of grass flew from the dirt, then wove and knotted together in mid-air to form a rough, sturdy grass skirt.
Lu Yun gestured, and the grass skirt floated gracefully toward Ze Yang. "Young man, my apologies that you have to wear this. I will see you down the mountain now."
Seeing this miraculous scene and hearing the name "Lu Yun," Ye Zeyang was completely and utterly stunned.
He pinched his own thigh hard. The pain made him grimace, and only then was he sure he wasn’t dreaming.
He scrambled to grab the grass skirt and, in a flash, wrapped it around his waist. The skirt covered his lower body, but his torso remained bare, revealing his bronze muscles.
’It’s good enough. As long as it covers the important bits, who cares how it looks?’ On the smooth main road at the foot of the mountain, Lu Yun descended from the sky, bringing Ye Zeyang with him.
The journey down the mountain path would have taken over an hour on foot, but they arrived in the blink of an eye.
"Young man, your three friends are hurrying down the path behind you. Just wait for them here. I’ll be on my way."
Before Ye Zeyang could react, Lu Yun flew straight up into the sky. He flew higher and higher, farther and farther, until he became a black dot and disappeared into the clouds.
Ye Zeyang craned his neck, his mouth agape—wide enough to fit a fist—and watched the black dot vanish over the horizon.
’Lord Lu can fly? Is he a reincarnated Immortal?’
Before long, the three young men who had run off earlier finally came panting down the mountain path. And then they saw Ye Zeyang on the main road.
All three stopped in their tracks, frozen on the spot. Six eyes went wide, all fixed on Ze Yang.
The three of them exchanged bewildered glances. No one spoke. They just stared dumbly at Ze Yang, as if he were some kind of alien monster.
"Am I seeing things?" Xiaonan rubbed his eyes.
"How did Brother Zeyang get down the mountain before us?" one of the young men asked, his mouth agape. "We were the ones who ran first, and we didn’t even stop to catch our breath! How did he get here before we did?"
’Don’t tell me he can fly?’
"That’s weird, where are Brother Zeyang’s clothes?" another young man said, looking Ze Yang up and down. His gaze swept back and forth several times between Ze Yang’s bare torso and the grass skirt.
The expression on his face changed from surprise to confusion, and then from confusion to a peculiar, indescribable expression.
Ye Zeyang looked at his three dumbfounded companions. ’How am I supposed to explain this?’
’I can’t just tell them I had the dumbest luck and ran into Lord Lu, right? And that he promised I could join the White Cloud Sect? Who would believe a story like that?’
Finally, Ye Zeyang took a deep breath and managed to force out a single sentence: "Don’t ask. Let’s go home first. I’m freezing to death."

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