Chapter 157

Shangguan Ye sat there calmly sipping his tea, quietly listening. He neither agreed nor disagreed, as if none of this had anything to do with him.

The others talked for a while longer. Once Murong Qiufeng got a clearer picture of the situation, they decided to rest for the night and set out again the next morning — this time, with two new companions.

Xiao Yan and Yan Qiren flanked the carriage, one on each side, alert and watchful, taking their roles as guards with utmost seriousness.

Murong Qiufeng and Shangguan Ye rode ahead, while A’Si, his face as expressionless as ever, handled the reins like the most ordinary, harmless coachman.

“What do you think?” Murong Qiufeng’s brows had been knitted together the entire time. Everything that had happened seemed reasonable on the surface, yet something about it all felt off. Those people had stirred up chaos in court before — that could’ve been written off as enemy spies — but now they were disrupting the martial world too, and targeting his senior brother specifically. The more he thought about it, the more certain he became: they needed to find his senior brother, and soon.

Shangguan Ye crossed his arms, letting his black horse, Moyan, walk at its own pace. “I went through everything again,” he said slowly. “I think it all started when I received that tip about the spy. Shun got hold of that secret by accident, and the witness ended up in my hands — but they don’t know I got the information from the Heavenly Killing Pavilion.”

“You’re saying they might think it was Senior Brother who told you?” Murong Qiufeng was beginning to understand.

“Exactly.” Shangguan Ye nodded with a trace of approval before continuing, “Mufeng Tower has earned its name as the top intelligence network for good reason. Their information is vast and deep — it’s not surprising they’d know about spies in the imperial court. Those people must have assumed I bought the news from Mufeng Tower. After all, their rule has always been never to disclose anything unbidden. If that’s their thinking, then their attacks on Yun Feiyang make perfect sense.”

“They’re afraid Senior Brother’s Mufeng Tower will keep ruining their plans, so they decided to eliminate him?”

“Right. If I’m not mistaken, they might have tried to recruit him before — but Yun Feiyang must’ve refused. So now they’re out to destroy Mufeng Tower entirely. As for dragging the Heavenly Killing Pavilion into this, maybe they just wanted my attention, hoping to draw me in. And the Immortal Sword Sect? They’re probably just collateral damage. After all, it’s Yun Feiyang’s backing — if you want to pull weeds, you dig out the roots. And since the Immortal Sword Sect has the Martial Alliance Master among its ranks, it’s not a target you can just kill outright. So they’ve taken another route — borrowing a knife to kill, reaping the benefits amid the chaos.”

“In that case,” Murong Qiufeng said, “they must have another plot behind all this. Could it be that there are still spies in the court that haven’t been exposed?”

“No,” Shangguan Ye replied, his voice thoughtful. “The spy might just be bait. They’re calculating something much bigger.” He fell silent for a moment, brows drawn together, eyes narrowing with a glint of inquiry and suspicion.

After two more days on the road, they finally arrived at the foot of the Immortal Mountain.

The mountain was unusually lively — a place once known for its serenity now buzzed with noise and activity. People had set up tents everywhere, waiting around in groups.

Following the main path through the woods, they saw in the distance a grand marble gate carved in fine detail, three arched entrances beneath it, flanked by two massive stone statues. A row of disciples stood guard at the gate, clearly from the Immortal Sword Sect judging by their robes.

The forest on either side was clear but also patrolled. Overhead hung a deep blue plaque inscribed with three powerful characters: Immortal Sword Sect.

With so many eyes watching, anyone coming or going naturally drew attention — especially a group as conspicuous as theirs, with their carriage and horses.

Most people’s eyes went straight to the two riders at the front. One rode a black horse, the other white — both magnificent beasts worth a fortune.

Particularly Moyan, Shangguan Ye’s black steed: its coat was dark as ink, its eyes faintly red, and when it moved, the sleek hair shimmered with a fiery undertone. Its mane, long and naturally curled, gleamed like blood in the sun. Every step it took was powerful and sure, exuding a savage grace. The creature’s proud gaze seemed to scorn the people around it.

And its rider matched it perfectly. The man in black, face hidden by a gauze hat, radiated a quiet menace. His sharp eyes glinted beneath the veil — cold, disdainful, and cutting. He looked like a blade not yet unsheathed, but one that could cleave the heavens once drawn.

Beside him, the man in white on his snow-colored horse was his complete opposite — graceful, calm, and refined. The horse’s fur was pristine, its mane a silvery cascade gleaming under the sun, eyes as dark and luminous as glass. Its every motion was fluid, quiet strength hidden beneath its elegance.

A few martial artists instinctively stepped forward to block their way.

“State your names!” one barked.

Neither horse nor carriage slowed down in the slightest. Xiao Yan and Yan Qiren hesitated briefly, but seeing that their leaders had no intention of stopping, they too kept going in silence.

Murong Qiufeng’s expression darkened. Since when did returning to the Immortal Sword Sect require outsiders to question us like criminals? Normally, he preferred diplomacy — a man of restraint. But these people were practically trampling on his doorstep. His patience had worn thin. He said nothing, nor did he rein in his horse.

Shangguan Ye didn’t even have to look at him to know exactly what he was thinking, and wordlessly matched his pace.

The two of them rode straight ahead, utterly unbothered by the men in their path. The horses snorted sharply, eyes flashing with contempt.

The guards’ faces turned cold. Weapons were drawn with a hiss.

“You little—!”

They didn’t finish the sentence. In the blink of an eye, they were all sent flying — crashing into trees, rolling into the underbrush, groaning in pain.

The two riders and their steeds didn’t even glance their way, continuing steadily up the road. If not for the bodies strewn along the path, one might’ve thought it had all been an illusion.

The onlookers’ faces paled. None dared step forward again.

The strong are to be feared — those four words rang true anywhere in the martial world.

Even the Immortal Sword Sect disciples at the gate stiffened, their hands tightening on their weapons as they watched the carriage approach, tension crackling in the air.

Xiao Yan and Yan Qiren, on the other hand, finally let out the breaths they’d been holding. Their eyes lit up with awe and admiration.

To most observers, it had looked like those men were simply knocked back by some unseen force — but the two of them knew better. That was sword energy. They hadn’t even seen how Shangguan Ye struck, but as for the young master, they could faintly sense it: several sword strikes in an instant, so fast the sword never even left its sheath, the energy alone doing the damage.

To wield energy as a weapon — that was a mastery few ever reached.

It was said that Third Elder Yun Feiyang had achieved that level when he was still young. Who could imagine what realm he had reached now?

No wonder these two were the Master’s direct disciples. The thought stirred envy and reverence alike in their hearts.