The cultivators speaking were all Renxian, their auras still bearing the raw, unpolished edge of those who had only recently ascended from the lower planes. No matter how mysterious or powerful someone had been in their previous world—perhaps a sect leader or a legendary hermit—once they reached a higher tier, they returned to the most basic state of a fledgling immortal. So when there is an opportunity like this, a chance to gain even a sliver of an advantage against the heavens, many would try their luck.
Of course, some cultivators scoffed at the idea, their faces twisted with cynical doubt. When Song Wanníng arrived at the edge of the crowd, the air was suddenly pierced by a man's shout.
"It is just ordinary lake water!" he cried, gesturing wildly at the crystalline surface. "And it is supposed to be a god's blessing? Thousands of years have passed and no one has ascended to the God Realm from this city. Where is this blessing supposed to be? Show it to me!"
His words drew the immediate attention of everyone in the queue. Most people were just hoping for a bit of good luck to smooth their path, but now, holding their cups of lake water, they did not know whether to drink or not. A hesitant silence fell over the shore, leaving the gathered cultivators in an awkward spot as they looked between the lake and the shouting skeptic.
A nearby attendant disciple, however, remained completely unbothered. She calmly scooped more water from the stone basin, the liquid cascading back like molten silver, and said lightly, "Believe it or not, that is up to you. If you are not drinking, please step back and do not block the others. There are many who still wait."
She handed a jade cup full of lake water to the cultivator standing directly behind the skeptic, her movements fluid and professional, completely ignoring the man who had spoken. Feeling snubbed and embarrassed by her dismissive tone, his irritation grew.
"What do you mean by that? Am I not telling the truth?" he demanded, stepping closer to her. "Only fools would believe this can help you ascend to the God Realm!"
The moment he spoke, he offended everyone present. Faces soured in an instant, and several cultivators tightened their grip on their jade vessels as if they wanted to throw their cups at him. The attendant disciple's eyes darkened, a cold light flickering in her gaze. With a brief, sharp glance toward the city gates, a group of law enforcers in silver-trimmed robes appeared, their hands resting on the hilts of their swords as they restrained the man.
"Come with us!" one of the enforcers barked.
The man struggled against their iron grip, yelling over his shoulder as they began to haul him away, "What are you doing? Are you saying people cannot speak the truth in this city?"
The disciple sneered, her polite mask slipping for a fraction of a second. "Daoyou, you are overthinking. We are just asking you to leave. You are disturbing the peace."
With that, the enforcers dragged him out of the square and sealed the heavy wooden entrance behind him. The crowd's expressions eased slightly once he was gone; being called a fool in public was no one's favorite experience, and the silence allowed their hope to return.
Song Wanníng watched the attendant disciple the entire time. Her gaze shifted, tracing the rhythm of the girl's movements, and she quietly joined the back of the queue. Many around her were still curious and did not drink immediately, turning their cups over in their hands, while a few others gulped theirs down and even shouted for more, their eyes bright with a desperate kind of greed.
Soon, it was her turn. When the attendant disciple saw her approaching, her tone softened perceptibly. She offered a small smile as she asked, "Daoyou, which color jade cup would you like?"
Ten different jade cups appeared on the stone table, carved from various stones ranging from deep blood-red to obsidian black. Song Wanníng casually chose a pale blue one, the color of a winter sky. The disciple removed the other nine with a swift motion and filled her chosen cup to the brim with the shimmering lake water.
"Thank you," Song Wanníng said, her fingers brushing the cool stone as she took the cup aside.
The disciple glanced at her for a long moment, her eyes lingering on her face, then she looked away and resumed serving the next person in line. No one else in the queue was given the option to choose their cup, which prompted a few disgruntled complaints from the men behind her. The disciple just smiled at them. "Beauties naturally get a little preference in Wángyōu City..."
After seeing her striking appearance, the grumblers quieted down. They could not realistically compete with her looks or the poise she carried.
She stood at the edge of the lake, holding her cup and curiously examining the clear liquid. Inside her sea of consciousness, the Bodhi Tree Spirit stirred, its leaves rustling with a soft, melodic hum.
"There is the aura of Dao in this water," the spirit murmured. "But it is faint, like a scent carried on a distant wind."
Being a tree of enlightenment, the Bodhi Tree Spirit was extremely familiar with the presence of the Dao in all its forms. The water clearly had something special within it, even if the concentration was low. Song Wanníng raised her brow in surprise; she had expected a mere commercial gimmick to draw in tourists, but she found the water's properties were real.
As she studied the cup more closely, she sensed something off, a subtle disharmony that had nothing to do with the water itself. Looking through the ripples, she found nothing unusual at first glance. Her expression darkened. With a thought, she transferred the lake water into her internal world, where the Bodhi Tree Spirit absorbed it entirely.
The jade cup was now empty, its pale blue surface dry. Carefully shifting her perspective and focusing her vision, she finally noticed a fine, dark thread winding along the very bottom of the cup, forming a strange, jagged semicircle.
As she probed the thread with her divine sense, a vision of a human face suddenly appeared, flickering like a dying flame. The image was fleeting, but it startled Song Wanníng. It was a man, his bare upper body bound tightly to a dark, rusted frame with thick iron chains. Long white hair fell over his head in matted clumps, and his eyes were tightly closed. Even with fresh blood covering his brow and cheeks, his striking, noble features could not be concealed.
Thousands of segmented insects crawled across his pale torso, their mandibles seemingly devouring his flesh in a slow, agonizing feast.
Who was he?
Song Wanníng frowned and looked again, trying to steady her divine sense, but the image had vanished into the blue depths of the jade. This jade cup was no ordinary vessel, and that attendant disciple was no ordinary servant. What was the connection between that tortured man and this city?
Full of questions, she looked up at the disciple, who was still busily scooping water, then she followed the other cultivators toward the city exit. She did not leave the area, however. Instead, she stayed at a nearby inn with a clear view of the square, standing by the window for days as she kept a constant eye on the attendant disciple's movements.
Half a month passed in a blur of meditation and observation. Finally, the attendant disciple changed shifts as the sun dipped below the horizon. Dressed now in plain black robes that blended into the twilight, the figure exited the courtyard behind the lake. She followed from the shadows, her footsteps silent on the cobblestones.
Once the disciple entered a small, nondescript courtyard in a quiet district, she stopped. She first had Long Ling check the perimeter for hidden cultivators or traps. Finding none, she leapt over the wall and landed lightly in the center of the courtyard.
It seemed the disciple expected her. The figure was lounging in a bamboo chair, leisurely sipping from a steaming cup of tea. Seeing her land, a small smile tugged at his lips—for the person was clearly a man now, his disguise dropped—as he looked up.
"I knew you would come," he said, his voice smooth and calm.
Song Wanníng stood at a comfortable distance, her hand resting near her hilt. She smiled back, though her eyes remained cold. "I knew you would be waiting."
He laughed, the sound dry and hollow. "As expected of a Wuji Sect genius. Your courage surpasses most cultivators who wander into this city. I am curious how Daoyou advanced to Dixian so quickly. It is truly enviable."
He appraised her cultivation with a lingering look, his eyes darkening with a hidden, predatory intent. Song Wanníng stayed calm but heightened her internal guard, her spiritual energy circulating rapidly through her meridians. He knew her identity despite her efforts to remain low-profile. Could he be another awakened invader?
"I just killed a few people and advanced," she replied, her voice flat. "Others probably could not manage it."
She stepped forward, taking a seat on the opposite bamboo chair without being asked. "That jade cup… you gave it to me on purpose, did not you? I want to know who that person is."
Her sharp gaze locked onto his, her aura radiating a silent, crushing force. Despite the pressure she exerted, the man still smiled, his tea cup steady in his hand.
"Who is it?" He laughed, a chilling, metallic sound that echoed through the empty courtyard. "That person is naturally your kind."
At his words, the air in the courtyard instantly tensed, the temperature dropping as if the sun had vanished from the sky.