Yang Jing rose with the crowd, his waist bent slightly as he bowed. He murmured the honorifics along with everyone else, his gaze fixed on Bai Bing on the dais, his expression growing more solemn.
He knew this was sect etiquette, a show of respect for the powerful, and he dared not be the least bit lax.
After the salutation, everyone sat down cross-legged in an orderly fashion. Their movements were gentle and slow, and no one made a sound.
The entire Lingxi Plaza fell silent once more. All eyes were fixed ardently on Bai Bing, full of anticipation for the Peak Master's lecture. Even their breathing seemed to quieten subconsciously.
The plaza was so still one could hear the whisper of wind through the leaves. Peak Master Lingxi, Bai Bing, began to speak. Her voice was cool and melodious, like the chiming of jade, and it carried clearly to every corner of the plaza.
She did not raise her voice, yet everyone could hear her perfectly.
