Zhao Rong thought he should have been the most skilled-looking among the six participants at today's Confucian and Daoist debate.
Dressed in a simple Confucian robe with sleeves draped over his arms, a black and white Jade Token at his waist, his expression calm, and a light smile on his lips. Hmm, what slightly ruined the image of a master was his handsome face, which he thought was somewhat regrettable.
Still, he should be the one most like an unfathomably deep master among the six on the debate stage.
After all, he was the most unremarkable one on the stage...
But ever since Zhao Rong and his companions descended from their carriage at the foot of Taibai Mountain, passed through the crowded thoroughfare that opened up for them, walked the main road up the mountain, went straight through the midway landscape, and made their way to the Scripture Platform at the summit, Zhao Rong had changed his mind upon seeing the old man, protected by a group of Chongxu Daoists.