But this is not where the story ends.
The cultivation world churned with unrest.
The events unfolding were beyond mere disturbances, as peace had become a distant memory.
The notorious suspect, Yu Xiao, was at the heart of this chaos, wanted for her alleged involvement in the well said massacre.
As expected, the Central Domain Sect issued a formal decree, mobilizing their forces to hunt her down.
Wanted notices, bearing vague descriptions and her last known locations, were distributed to every corner of the realm.
The sect disciples moved with grim determination, their expressions hard as steel.
One of the Beiming Sect spies caught wind of crucial information and immediately reported to Marshal Xue Wuya, the Young Master of the main palace and half-brother to Yu Xiao.
Known for his fierce loyalty to the Beiming Sect, Xue Wuya's connections with the sects are complex yet pivotal. His eyes narrowed as he absorbed the intelligence, his jaw tightening as they stood amidst the chaos of the outbound market, investigating the casualties and seeking fragments of the missing Yu Xiao.
Upon receiving this information, he swiftly summoned the warriors, who gathered in a secure corner of the marketplace with tension crackling in the air as an additional agenda had been set.
This occurrence could turn into another bloodshed if warriors from rival sects were to meet at the discussed location.
The atmosphere grew heavy with anticipation and unspoken threats.
Who would find the villain first?
Expressions hardened with competitive determination.
Would the villain be captured safely and brought to justice, or would they be executed on sight?
Whispers rippled through the gathered crowd, hands instinctively moving to rest on weapon hilts as uncertainty hung thick in the air.
As soon as the Duan siblings arrived at the place, Young Master Yun Qingjue stood waiting, his posture composed as he observed their approach, intent on identifying the owner of the veil.
When they drew closer, Yun Qingjue's hand emerged from his sleeve, revealing a piece of white plain cloth held delicately between his fingers.
"Do you recognize this thing?" he asked calmly, his gaze steady and searching.
Han-Yun and Han-Qing moved forward, their steps slowing as unease crept over them upon staring at the piece of cloth.
Han-Yun's brows furrowed slightly as he reached out, and they carefully took it from Young Master Yun Qingjue's hand, examining it closely.
The fabric felt familiar beneath their fingertips.
"This…" Han-Yun paused, his breath catching.
His eyes lifted to meet Yun Qingjue's.
"Where did you find it, Young Master?" he added, his voice tight with concern.
Yun Qingjue jerked his head slightly, gesturing toward a specific direction where he had picked it up before, his expression remaining unreadable.
With a slow turn of the head, Han-Yun looked at his twin brother's face, which was undeniably tensed with worry—jaw clenched, eyes darkened with concern.
"This is exactly one of the items of clothing we gathered before for our Lady Yu," Han-Qing stated, his voice low and strained.
He held the fabric a moment longer before his gaze lifted to meet Young Master Yun Qingjue's, searching his expression.
"I'm wishing that she's doing well," he added quietly, though doubt flickered across his features.
Yun Qingjue nodded slightly, his expression grave as he reached forward and took the veil back, folding it carefully before tucking it into his sleeve.
"In that case, we need to find her," he said, his tone sharp with urgency. "The mandate has been settled. Since you've confirmed the veil's owner, it's time for the hunt." He paused, his eyes narrowing as tension rippled through his frame. "We've received information—Zhou Xuanyuan's warriors are casting their nets around the area as we speak." His hand clenched at his side. "I'm afraid they may have already found her."
Han-Qing gulped hard, his throat tightening as dread settled in his chest.
That's not what he wished for.
His hands trembled slightly at his sides, and he exchanged a quick, worried glance with Han-Yun.
"Follow me," Young Master Yun Qingjue commanded, his voice cutting through the tension with authoritative sharpness.
Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel, his robes sweeping behind him as he strode forward with purposeful urgency.
However, Yu Xiao was completely miserable this time.
She leaned heavily against a rough tree trunk, her breathing ragged and shallow as she tried to recuperate, but this was not a safe enough place.
After the incident, she had escaped for her life, adrenaline still coursing through her veins.
Her body trembled with exhaustion, yet her senses remained razor-sharp—her hearing functioning as if attuned to every rustle, every whisper of wind, alert to any danger approaching.
Her eyes darted around frantically, pupils dilated with fear.
Every shadow seemed like a threat, every distant sound made her flinch and press herself harder against the bark.
"Who is it?" she barked anxiously, her voice cracking with panic as her head whipped around, scanning the surroundings.
"Xiaotian, what's wrong?" Her companion, tiny spark Tiaopi, asked, floating closer with concern flickering in his ethereal form.
"They're coming!" Yu Xiao's hands clenched into fists, her body tensing like a bowstring ready to snap.
"Who's coming? I didn't see." Tiaopi spun around, his glow dimming with confusion as he searched the empty forest.
"They're coming! I can hear them. I can hear them all!"
Her voice rose to a desperate pitch, eyes wild and unfocused as phantom sounds echoed in her heightened senses.
Yu Xiao scrambled to stand up, her legs nearly buckling beneath her as she pushed off the tree trunk.
Her palms pressed against the rough bark for support, her plain black robes swaying with her unsteady movements.
"Quick! They're after us. Let's get out of this place." She stumbled forward, grabbing onto branches for support, her movements frantic and uncoordinated as fear drove her onward.
As she fled the place, her footsteps muffled against the forest floor, the Central Domain Sect warriors arrived moments later.
They halted abruptly, hands raised in silent signals as they observed the surroundings with sharp, calculating eyes.
Their gazes swept across broken twigs and disturbed leaves, searching for any trace of their quarry.
Meanwhile, Yu Xiao pushed herself forward, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she tried her best to get rid of them.
Painful.
Each step sent jolts through her weakened body.
Struggling.
Her vision blurred at the edges.
Dizziness.
The world tilted and swayed around her.
All these consequences she was suffering right now, combined with extreme fear that clawed at her chest and made her heart hammer wildly.
How can she get rid of them?
The question screamed through her mind.
Can she overcome this situation?
Her fingers grasped at tree trunks for balance, nails scraping bark.
Since her feet still functioned, albeit unsteadily, suffering meant nothing as long as she could escape and survive.
She gritted her teeth and forced herself onward, every fiber of her being focused on flight.
In the meantime, as the Central Domain Sect continued their mid-search, fanning out through the forest, the Beiming Sect warriors emerged from the opposite direction.
Both groups froze upon spotting each other, hands immediately moving to their weapons.
The air crackled with tension.
This time, this must be a face-off.
Logically, after the recent incident that had left bodies in its wake, the expectation must be fatal—blood would surely be spilled.
However, as the warriors assessed each other with hostile glares, one notable absence became clear:
Zhou Xuanyuan hadn't come along with his warriors. His conspicuous absence hung in the air like an unspoken question.
According to the decree, the Central Domain Sect was searching for the villain to capture, but still had no idea who the villain actually was.
Their leader barked orders, gesturing sharply as his men spread out in a methodical pattern.
They were expecting to find some clues—anything that might lead them to their target.
On the opposite side, Marshal Xue Wuya raised his fist in a silent command, ordering his forces to pause while observing the rival sect's actions.
His eyes tracked every movement of the Central Domain warriors with cold calculation.
One of the Beiming Sect warriors broke formation, striding purposefully toward Marshal Xue Wuya's position, and handed him a folded wet fabric with a respectful bow.
"Marshal, look what we've found," the warrior spoke up, his voice low but urgent.
The Duan siblings immediately reacted as they caught sight of the wet fabric in the warrior's hand.
Their eyes widened in alarm.
They lunged forward and grabbed it without hesitation, their fingers trembling as they examined the thing, turning it over desperately.
Meanwhile, Yun Qingjue's brows furrowed deeply, his sharp gaze scrutinizing the uneasy reaction of the twins as they held the wet fabric stained with blood.
His jaw tightened, concern flickering across his usually composed features.
"Lady Yu, it's her. This robe is from her," Han-Yun choked out, his voice breaking as tears welled in his eyes. His hands shook as he looked at the fabric, his face contorting with anguish. "It's hers…"
Xue Wuya stepped closer, his eyes narrowing as he looked at the fabric in the twins' trembling hands.
His expression remained unreadable, though his lips pressed into a thin line.
"Are you certain about that?" Yun Qingjue asked, his voice sharp and demanding as he fixed his gaze on the siblings.
The Duan siblings nodded frantically, their heads bobbing in desperate affirmation.
"We shouldn't be mistaken," Han-Yun responded, his voice thick with conviction despite the tears streaking down his face.
Han-Qing nodded vigorously beside him, his own expression equally distressed.
Yun Qingjue raised his hand and pulled the fabric from their grasp with swift, decisive movement.
He brought it close to his face and inhaled deeply, his eyes closing for a brief moment as he concentrated.
Afterwards, as he identified the owner, a sudden vision flickered behind his closed eyelids—he saw Yu Xiao running desperately through the forest, her black robes whipping behind her, fear etched across her face.
His eyes snapped open, now gleaming with certainty, though his expression remained blank and focused.
He finally spoke, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade.
"She left not long ago, but she hasn't got far yet."
Then he darted his eyes sharply in the right direction, his arm extending to point.
"That way!"