Tang Lingwu's "Spiritual Crane Body" has been fully realized.
It's like how someone with a hammer always seeks nails, or how finding a straight stick makes one long to find bushels of foxtails to sweep.
Having perfected the "Spiritual Crane Body," Tang Lingwu yearned to feel the breeze.
The trio arrived at the small park where Zheng Fa used to train.
It was quite late by then, the sky bereft of much starlight, making the night seem even darker.
The park was old too, with sporadic streetlamps casting a dim yellow light, often one had to walk a long shadowy stretch before encountering a hazy halo of light.
It was a summer evening.
The park was also full of flying insects, not exactly the best place for a leisurely stroll.
But it wasn't deserted; as the three walked, they encountered young or middle-aged couples holding hands.
They had initially spoken with caution, for they would occasionally discuss matters of cultivation.
