A small marketplace at the foot of White Stone Mountain.
In the inn, the diners crowded in front of the third-floor windows, gazing up at the mountain peak.
They could not see what was happening there; they could only see the multicolored clouds churning, the weather on the mountain changing, and they could only hear the thunderous roar, mixed with faint sounds of shouting.
Half an hour later, the glow receded, and everything returned to calm.
"What do you think happened up there?"
"It must be the immortals of the Zhang Clan unleashing their immortal techniques."
A chubby, middle-aged man said:
"Heh heh, I don't think so.
Today I saw a gigantic spirit ship fly over; only the immortals of Yuanhe Mountain have such large spirit ships."
"Hiss! So it was the immortals of Yuanhe Mountain who arrived. How do you know, brother?"
Someone asked, and others looked at the man with curiosity.
The man basked in the attention, saying proudly:
