"Meng Jingzhou." The carriage owner, like his voice, was a carefree young man, cheerful and amiable, as if he could strike up a conversation with anyone.,Over the past decade living in this small town, he had heard tales from the scholar about celestial swords striking heaven's gate, stories of river demons stirring up floods a hundred miles away, and accounts of immortal disciples wielding flying swords to vanquish demons and protect humanity. He had even witnessed slovenly Daoists swindling people, leaping into the sky to escape custody, only to be brought back down by officials who flew after them.,These cultivators remained silent, inexplicably putting psychological pressure on people.。