“Junior Brother Xu?”
The startled voice rang out. Xu Xuan froze, then spun around in panic. Behind him, Xu Jin was looking at him with a puzzled expression.
“Junior Brother Xu, it’s already late at night. Where are you going?”
Hearing the question, Xu Xuan shook his head frantically, his words tumbling over each other. “I don’t know—no, I’m not going anywhere. I’m heading back… yes, back to my room.”
Muttering to himself, Xu Xuan turned around in a daze and walked toward his small courtyard.
Xu Jin stood there for a long while, frowning at his retreating figure. Something about Junior Brother Xu seemed off—there was an odd, unfocused look about him that was hard to describe. But then Xu Jin thought of the rumors circulating in the sect recently and quickly found an explanation.
To be fair, Xu Jin had always had a good impression of Xu Xuan. As the youngest disciple of Zuowang Peak, even though he was only a registered disciple, everyone treated him well. Xu Xuan himself always appeared obedient and gentle, and even their master showed him particular favor.
Still, recalling Xu Xuan’s recent behavior, Xu Jin could not help but feel a trace of regret.
In his view, although Xu Xuan’s talent could not compare to the sect’s core disciples, among registered disciples he was already quite outstanding—far beyond most outer disciples. If he had simply settled down and cultivated diligently, with their master’s favor and the sect’s resources, even if he started slower than the core disciples, given enough time, he might still have secured a place for himself within the sect.
After all, Uncle Li of Wulan Peak had once been nothing more than an ordinary outer disciple.
Unfortunately, Xu Xuan did not seem to take cultivation seriously and had wasted too much time.
Xu Jin had once tried to advise him indirectly: even if their master favored him, that favor would never surpass the core disciples. Rather than constantly trying to curry favor, it would be better to cultivate properly—if their master saw his effort, he would surely be even more pleased.
But Xu Xuan never listened. And with his mind set entirely on Senior Brother Leng, how could he have the heart to focus on cultivation? Thinking of Xu Xuan’s three-spirit-root aptitude, Xu Jin sighed. He could only hope that Senior Brother Leng would not disappoint such sincere devotion.
While Xu Jin lamented, Xu Xuan, now back in his room, no longer showed the panic from earlier.
Over the past few days, that voice in his mind had appeared from time to time, tempting him in various ways. It would be a lie to say he was not tempted—but the strangeness of the voice made him afraid to trust it completely. He had been struggling and wavering, unable to decide.
He had even secretly searched through the sect’s records, hoping to find something similar. Sure enough, one jade slip described a situation like his—cultivators could encounter inner demons that tempted them. As long as one’s will was firm, such demons could be dispelled.
A firm will…
Xu Xuan hesitated. Thinking of the promises the voice had made, he found himself reluctant to let go.
Another voice in his heart whispered: Agree. Just agree. If you do, everything you want will be yours.
That night, Xu Xuan tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
He was not the only one.
Elsewhere, Leng Hanyuan sat silently at a table. It was spotless, save for a single cup of tea emitting faint spiritual vapor.
A droplet suddenly leapt up. The entire cup began to tremble violently, and then the water rose into the air, gradually forming the image of a face. The features bore a slight resemblance to Leng Hanyuan, but unlike his simple attire, this figure wore a nine-dragon crown, exuding authority.
Leng Hanyuan’s expression darkened. “Why are you here?”
The figure ignored his tone and glanced around. “Lin Yi is not here?”
Leng Hanyuan’s face turned cold. “All matters of Yuntian Sect have been entrusted to me.”
The figure looked at him indifferently. “There are signs that the Chutian Secret Realm may soon reappear. You should find a way to enter the back mountain and awaken the ancestor.”
Leng Hanyuan’s expression turned livid. “The forbidden grounds are layered with countless restrictions, and six elders of the Core Formation stage guard it openly. Not to mention the unknown number of old monsters who have reached the Nascent Soul stage. You want me to die?”
The figure’s tone carried a hint of mockery. “Do you not have many admirers? Why act personally?”
Seeing Leng Hanyuan’s expression worsen, the figure chuckled. “If you are afraid, send Lin Yi. He has experience.”
Leng Hanyuan stared at him. “How likely is the Chutian Secret Realm to appear?”
The figure raised a brow. “How would I know? My subordinates merely detected signs. It just needs to be reported to the ancestor.”
Seeing Leng Hanyuan remain silent, the figure added casually, “I heard you gained nothing in the Wu City ruins. If the secret realm appears early and the ancestor misses it because of your failure… you know his patience is limited. After so many years, he is nearly at his limit.”
Leng Hanyuan clenched his teeth. “Thank you for the reminder.”
The figure smiled faintly. “No need to be so polite.”
With that, the face dissolved into mist. Countless droplets fell, splashing onto Leng Hanyuan’s face. He stared at the ring on his hand, unable to make a decision.
—
At Yilan Peak, the old ghost inside the Nether Bracelet suddenly spoke. “Little Yu, someone’s here.”
Xiao Lingyu’s eyes snapped open. Following the direction indicated, he softly uttered, “Seal!”
As the word fell, droplets suddenly poured down from above. “Heavenly Water Without Trace!” Xiao Lingyu did not dare touch the strange water directly, immediately casting a barrier to block it.
The droplets slid down the transparent shield and fell to the ground. Chu Mingwei swept his divine sense across the entire peak. “No one.”
The old ghost manifested. “It’s a demonic communication method—embedding consciousness into water and letting it travel with the flow.”
Chu Mingwei and Xiao Lingyu exchanged a glance. In the next instant, Chu Mingwei appeared in the adjacent room. Zhu Yurong was sleeping soundly, belly up. Before him sat a delicate porcelain bowl filled with water.
Without hesitation, Chu Mingwei pointed. “Thunderfall!”
Lightning struck. The water in the bowl surged upward, lunging at him.
“Heavenly Water Without Trace!” The attack was blocked again. The water pooled on the ground and flowed toward the door.
“Seal!” Xiao Lingyu acted again. Instantly, all the water seeped into the ground and vanished.
Chu Mingwei immediately sent a message talisman to Haotian Hall, then waved his sleeve. The Leihan Mirror shot out, circling the entire peak.
“It’s gone,” the old ghost said.
Xiao Lingyu frowned. “So it was only a communication method?”
The old ghost nodded. “Yes. No offensive power.”
Chu Mingwei’s expression darkened. “Regardless, the demon race has set its sights on Lingyu. We just don’t know what they want this time.”
While the two and the ghost speculated, Zhu Yurong turned over comfortably, completely unaffected.
—
Not far from Yuntian Sect, a man with a pale face struggled out of a river, coughing violently. After swallowing a bottle of pills, a strange smile appeared on his face.
He had only gone to Yilan Peak out of curiosity—to see the youngest Nascent Soul cultivator. He had not expected to be discovered.
But he had seen something interesting.
The bracelet on Xiao Lingyu’s wrist—it was made of Netherstone.
Who would use such a rare material to make a bracelet?
—
That night was destined to be sleepless.
After receiving Chu Mingwei’s message, Ling Xiaozi immediately set out for the back mountain. Some things could no longer be delayed.
—
Near noon the next day, two streaks of light shot out from Yilan Peak—Chu Mingwei and Xiao Lingyu, summoned to Haotian Peak.
Xiao Lingyu was still pondering the previous night’s events, unable to understand why the demons had come.
Chu Mingwei, wanting to distract him, was about to change the subject when shouting erupted ahead.
They exchanged a glance and moved toward the commotion.
Not far from Zuowang Peak, Wen Shaohua was angrily shouting at Xu Xuan, “What kind of expression is that? Did I bully you?”
Facing him, Xu Xuan stood pale and pitiful, shielded by several disciples glaring at Wen Shaohua.
A disciple sneered. “You still deny it? We saw it ourselves.”
“What did you see?” Wen Shaohua demanded.
“How you bullied Junior Brother Xu.”
Another disciple quickly recounted what they had witnessed—arriving just in time to see Wen Shaohua corner Xu Xuan, who looked distressed while Wen Shaohua shouted angrily.
The crowd’s gazes turned judgmental.
Wen Shaohua was furious—he had done nothing! He had barely spoken before Xu Xuan’s eyes reddened, and suddenly others rushed in accusing him.
Before he could react, Xu Xuan stepped forward weakly. “It’s just a misunderstanding. Senior Brother Wen didn’t do anything.”
But Wen Shaohua snapped, “I don’t need your fake kindness!”
At once, the crowd erupted in criticism.
“Senior Brother Leng…” Xu Xuan’s soft call silenced them all.
Leng Hanyuan approached. “Are you alright, Junior Brother Xu?”
Xu Xuan forced a faint smile. “I’m fine. Thank you for your concern.”
Leng Hanyuan tried to smooth things over, but Wen Shaohua cut in, “Of course he’s fine—I didn’t bully him!”
Xu Xuan lowered his head silently.
All eyes turned to Leng Hanyuan.
Under pressure, he had to choose.
—
When Xiao Lingyu arrived, he saw Leng Hanyuan standing beside Xu Xuan, speaking to Wen Shaohua, who was angrily retorting.
Chu Mingwei stepped forward. “Why are so many gathered here?”
“Senior Brother!”
The crowd quickly dispersed.
Wen Shaohua glared at Xu Xuan and left without a word.
Chu Mingwei said calmly, “Junior Brother Xu looks unwell. You should take him back.”
Leng Hanyuan nodded and left with Xu Xuan.
Watching them go, Xiao Lingyu said quietly, “The old ghost sensed demonic energy on Xu Xuan.”
Chu Mingwei’s expression turned serious.
—
That very night, a streak of light shot out from Zuowang Peak.
Xu Xuan, his expression resolute, rode his sword straight toward the back mountain.