The Sovereign Aurora cut through the violet clouds of the First Supreme Heaven like a golden blade through silk.
High upon the forward bridge, Old Keeper Cang (Goodness: 99/100) stood straight as an ancient pine.
The hunched posture that had borne fractured stone for a hundred thousand years was gone.
His glossy black hair was tied in a neat topknot, making him look twenty millennia younger.
His navy-and-gold Taichu Chief Toll-Director uniform fit his broad shoulders without a single wrinkle.
In his left hand, he cradled a stainless-steel thermos bottle filled with Grandma Chen’s steaming wolfberry tea.
Cang raised the thermos, took a slow sip, and let out a deep breath of satisfaction.
“Three thousand leagues ahead, Chairman Lin,” Cang said, snapping a military salute. “The cloud lanes are clear. The Primordial Chaos Commercial Hub is dead ahead.”
