Sister Guanrong muttered under her breath, her expression somewhat displeased. She pouted at Zhang Yan and said, "Uncle Master is summoning you up."
Zhang Yan looked upward, then leaped into the air. A gentle breeze carried his body as it swirled a few times before landing in front of a cool pavilion. The plaque above bore the inscription "Jueqiu Pavilion." Within the pavilion, a Daoist Nun with a kind and benevolent face sat upon a stone stool. She smiled warmly at Zhang Yan, nodded slightly, and spoke gently, "This fellow Daoist does look dignified, but there is an excessive air of hostility about you. I dare to ask, what sect or school does this fellow Daoist hail from?"
