Transmigrating Across the Heavens, Starting with Wudang

Clang!

The bell rang out, its toll piercing the sky and startling countless small animals and birds in the mountains.

Purple clouds drifted in the air, and pavilions and towers appeared and vanished amid a sea of clouds.

Wudang.

Shangde Peak.

“Senior Brother Ning, what happened next in the story?” In a grove of pines behind the mountain, a young gentleman rested his chin in his hands and blinked up at the slightly older teenage Daoist seated before him.

The young Daoist looked no more than sixteen or seventeen, but his air was nothing like the lively, spirited manner of someone his age. Instead, he seemed somewhat languid and carefree.