Shen Mao walked.
He moved across the Law-matter ground with the ease of someone who had been moving through this specific landscape for long enough that the movement required no conscious navigation, the path he took not a path in the physical sense but a direction that the preservation Law had been orienting him toward for the duration of his stay.
Lin Yi walked beside him.
Not at the fifteen-meter distance of the sitting conversation. Closer, the proximity that walking together naturally produced, the two cultivators moving through the distribution of formations at the pace that Shen Mao set, which was unhurried in the specific way of someone who had stopped hurrying a very long time ago.
