A caravan of about thirty people, with only seven or eight vehicles, yet the mounted, leather-clad figures gathered nearby were all young and energetic, several of them even children no older than twelve. At the forefront of the caravan rode an elderly man dressed in elegant attire, mounted on a yellow stallion. He wore a crimson fox fur hat, with deep grooves like those carved by a blade across his forehead, his cheeks slightly purple, yet his waist was adorned with a tri-colored silk sash—a mark of office signifying his status as the leader of the group. This region now lies in the southern part of the Tianlan Grasslands. This is a delegation of Tuke people en route to the Temple to present tribute. To the Tuke people, the Tianlan Grasslands are known as the "Tianlan Grasslands," a name derived from their longstanding devotion to the legendary "Tianlan Beast," which they revere as their ancestral guardian deity and have honored throughout generations. Originally, the Tutu people only controlled the southern half of the Zhengtianlan Grasslands. However, after defeating their long-standing rivals, the Mulan people, in a decisive battle in the central grasslands three decades ago, they went on to claim the entire grasslands. Their power surged dramatically, and no other tribe could stand against them. Naturally, with the Tutu people's vast size, there are countless internal clans—ranging from small tribal groups of just tens of thousands to massive super-clans with populations of tens of millions—scattered across the entire grasslands. Moreover, due to the many individuals who distinguished themselves during the last Holy War, several new, independent clans have emerged. Some of these clans are substantial, while others are much smaller, with populations numbering only in the tens of thousands. The "Cooper's Clan," where the elder resides, is one such small, independent clan that originated from a larger tribal group. Though it may be considered a clan, in reality, the entire clan numbers only around seventy or eighty thousand people. The elder is named Ying Lu. In his youth, he was renowned for his exceptional bravery in battle, having repeatedly defeated several small Muran tribes during the Sacred War and capturing numerous nobles, which earned him his current standing. Yet now, he is worn down by the passage of time and the constant strain of his duties. Though only in his fifties, his body bears the signs of advanced age. It is now midday, and the elder gazes upward at the scorching sun, then turns back to the young children in the caravan behind him, and sighs deeply. Some smaller tribes still manage to retain a few junior xian-shi, who either hail from the tribes themselves or possess mediocre cultivation potential—so inferior that larger tribes are unwilling to support them, leaving them only reluctantly in place. As for the elderly man's own Canglu tribe, they have yet to cultivate any xian-shi of their own, and thus, whenever matters arise, they are forced to hire junior xian-shi from neighboring tribes at considerable expense. These hired xian-shi command extremely high fees, and each engagement consumes half to a full year's income of the tribe—placing an even greater strain on the already modest resources of the Canglu tribe. Fortunately, the rare occasion of the Opening of the Spirit, which occurs once every twenty years, is finally approaching. Having long been attentive to this matter, Feilu naturally cannot afford to overlook it. He immediately leads several of his tribe's youth, identified as having spirit roots, to the nearest Tianlan Sacred Temple. The Tianlan Temple was originally built solely to enshrine the Tianlan Sacred Beast. Yet, over the years, it has evolved into a sacred place deeply cherished by the people, specifically dedicated to training junior Immortal Masters among the Tuwu people. Each temple hosts several senior Immortal Masters who teach fundamental cultivation techniques. Once students show promise, those with less potential return to their respective tribes, where they are honored and supported; those with greater potential are taken under the guidance of senior cultivators for specialized training. Uninitiated mortal beings are strictly prohibited from having senior Immortal Masters teach them cultivation arts without undergoing the Spirit-Opening Rite. Though there are only about sixty or seventy such temples, they are evenly distributed across the entire grassland. Each temple serves as a central hub for a vast region, surrounded by thousands of smaller tribal communities. As the largest tribes are naturally closer to the temples, the smaller Canglu tribe was assigned to a more distant location. It takes a full three months to journey from the tribe to the temple. In the end, already four months ago, Yinglu had led his team out from the tribe. Indeed, during the last Spirit Awakening Day, although he had already established the tribe's independence, he had failed to gather sufficient offerings and thus had to miss it. This time, however, Yinglu was determined not to miss it again. Even if the tribe had to cut back on its resources and live more modestly for several years to come, he would ensure that his own tribe would have its own immortal master. Yet, the journey across such a vast grassland, carrying these precious offerings—items of great value to the immortal masters and highly cherished by ordinary people—was extremely perilous. Many opportunistic individuals took advantage of the vulnerable travel parties to plunder them, and even some less-than-honest immortal masters might intervene. This had been a recurring occurrence throughout the years during the Spirit Awakening festivals. Tribes closer to the Temple fared better, as they had grown cautious of the Temple's reputation and thus refrained from being overly aggressive. Yet tribes so distant and remote posed an extreme danger. It was said that once, a medium-sized tribe in this region vanished entirely during its journey to the Temple after a leak of news about a rare herb in its tribute—this herb had been preserved for nearly a thousand years. Not a single trace of the entire delegation remained. Many believed that a senior immortal master from a powerful tribe, envious of the treasure, had personally intervened to kill and seize it. Naturally, the Temple was furious, and dispatched several of its own immortal masters to investigate, but the matter eventually faded without resolution. Thus, although the tribute this time was fully prepared, the absence of any immortal master accompanying the delegation left the leader of the Celestial Crane tribe restless and sleepless since departure. During the period leading up to the opening of the spiritual gate, all the tribal immortal masters were equally occupied, accompanying their respective delegations to the Temple. Even when there was available spiritual stone, no one was willing to accept employment. Occasionally, a few wandering immortal masters were hired, but only after being secured by larger, nearby tribes through substantial payments. As the weakest tribal chieftain, Ying Lu could only watch helplessly. Thinking of this, the elder sighed and turned back to gaze at the vehicles behind him. Among the seven or eight wagons trailing behind, four carried entirely tribute goods, drawn by carefully selected swift horses from the tribe. These wagons had been constructed from the tribe's strongest red birchwood. Of course, to avoid drawing attention, all the vehicles appeared worn and ancient, as if in poor condition. Fortunately, thanks to these measures, they had not yet encountered any serious setbacks. Indeed, even when they first encountered a small group of wild wolves, the caravan nearly suffered casualties. To break through the wolf pack, the convoy had been forced to abandon the two slowest wagons, thus reaching their current position safely. Though these two wagons contained no particularly valuable items, they were packed with most of the food the group would need for the next two months. It seemed, therefore, that they would have to pause their journey for a few days. Just beyond two more days' journey lies a valley in the vicinity. It's rarely visited, and perhaps there are wild deer or sheep that we can hunt for some early provisions. As this thought came to him, the elder turned back to stroke the hardwood bow hanging from his saddle, his face showing thoughtful concentration. "Hm! What is that?" a clear, surprised female voice suddenly rang out beside him. The voice belonged to a graceful young girl trailing closely behind the elder. Her name was Ying Shan, aged about fifteen or sixteen, a younger relative of Ying Lu, and one of the few among the tribe who had been identified as possessing a spiritual root—naturally, she was especially favored by Ying Lu. Upon hearing this, the elder was startled and quickly raised his head. And there, not far ahead, within a dense thicket, he saw patches of steady green light flickering irregularly, as though something were concealed within. He was certain that just before he turned back, there had been no such light in that direction. His heart immediately tightened. As a tribal chieftain, the natural light emanating from the immortal master's spells was not unfamiliar to him. Could it be that some immortal master truly intended to target such a humble and modest delegation? A weight settled in Ying Lu's heart, and with a sudden gesture, his entire retinue came to a sudden halt. Everyone else also noticed the green glow emerging from the thicket ahead, their faces now expressing a mix of alarm and caution. The elder maintained composure, gripping his reins firmly and standing still, yet his mind raced with various thoughts, desperately seeking a way to ensure their safety. Yet shortly thereafter, he noticed something was amiss. Though the green glow from the thicket flickered continuously, no immortal master emerged, nor did any spell manifest. Ying Lu's eyes brightened, and he hurried to examine the thicket closely—its dense, tall stems, reaching nearly a person's height, made it difficult to discern anything clearly. "Tu Meng! Go over there and check—could there really be an immortal master present?" After a few glances, the elder suddenly spoke. "Yes, Chief!" A young man, strong and resolute in appearance, paused in surprise upon hearing this, but quickly nodded his agreement and then dismounted, carefully making his way toward the thicket some twenty paces away. As he drew near—only five or six paces from the spot of luminous light—he hesitated, and then unconsciously halted his steps. "Which of the immortal masters is here?" he asked, his voice composed and respectful, reflecting a certain status within his own people, the Qinglu Clan. "We are from the Qinglu Clan, and have come especially to pay our respects and see the true form of the master." Yet still, within the thicket, only a gentle flow of light moved, with no sound emerging. The young man turned to look back at the elder. After a moment's thought, the elder inclined his head slightly, silently, and the young man felt his confidence grow, stepping forward with quiet, unbroken movement. When he reached the thicket, he paused once more, then, with a determined breath, reached out and gently parted the bushes before him.