"Then please go ahead!"
The great figures in the venue exchanged glances, each with a faint smile, gently cupping their hands, and then dispersed.
Someone slowly walked up to the city gate tower, gazed out at the dark fog all around, sighed softly, and sat down cross-legged. The spot he chose was precisely where Shangjing City had begun to tilt under the weight of two Ghost Altars.
He looked down, calculated on his fingers, then suddenly opened his mouth and spat out a tiny figure. As it fell toward the outside of Shangjing City, the figure grew larger with the wind, becoming a giant upon landing.
The giant burrowed into the ground and emerged again, shouldering a corner of the city and slowly lifting it.
Elsewhere, someone found a spot and lit a furnace. The teapot on the stove was already boiling, billowing thick white steam upward. He used a palm leaf fan to waft the steam from the kettle; it rose into the sky, forming heavy clouds that quickly flew south.
