In front of Yang Yan, an old Daoist with white hair and a long beard appeared out of thin air.
He was wearing an ancient and wide Daoist robe, with a long sword sheath on his back.
Upon his appearance, the three streaks of white light heading towards the platform suddenly stopped.
This included Steward Yu, as well as all the disciples, whether in the sky or on the ground, who all bowed respectfully and said:
"Greetings, Ancestral Master!"
Yang Yan did not know the background of this old Daoist, but he knew that he was no one to be underestimated, a formidable figure.
So, he also slightly bowed and shouted:
"Greetings..."
Unexpectedly, before he finished his words, the old Daoist reached out, supporting him, and with a smiling face, stroked his own beard:
"No need, no need. Now is not the time for you to pay your respects, and even when the time comes, it won't be this way. Haha! Hahaha!"
The old Daoist laughed very happily.
