The summer sunlight poured into a guest courtyard of Qingxiao Sect, and outside the walls, the endless drone of cicadas echoed in the air. Inside the courtyard, Li Yang was practicing his spear techniques, each thrust whipping up a strong gust that slammed against the stone walls.
Zhao Linglong, dressed in a light-blue robe, walked through the gate. Watching him, she asked curiously, "Cousin, you've been staying in Qingxiao Sect for so long—why don't you ever go out and look around? The sect changes every single day now. It's actually quite interesting."
Li Yang didn't answer. He simply kept practicing, his spear cutting through the air with precision and power. Zhao Linglong sighed helplessly.
It had already been several months since that fateful battle, yet Li Yang still hadn't shaken off the shadow in his heart. He had become distant, barely speaking to her.
She could understand what was going through his mind. Even though she had saved him, he still carried a heavy sense of betrayal.
Before that day, Li Yang had often shown off his martial skills to her, talking proudly about his great ambitions and the future he would carve for himself. If their roles were reversed, she might have felt the same way. His pride was simply too strong—stronger than hers had ever been.
Zhao Linglong sat down at the stone table in the courtyard, resting her elbows lightly on the surface. She began talking about the recent changes within Qingxiao Sect, her tone casual but steady.
"I heard the Sect Master took in another disciple. They say his talent is astonishing—only five years old, and people are already calling him the future number one of Qingxiao Sect. I don't know if it's just hype or if he's really that impressive."
"I also saw a couple of Qingxiao disciples sparring the other day. I have to admit, their martial arts are quite different from the rest of the martial world. That Art of Sword Control—it almost made me want to learn it myself."
"Oh, and have you ever heard the name Zhu Yan? She's a well-known figure in Guzhou—famous for her skill in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Her poetry is even popular across Zhongtian Prefecture. Many noble sons admire her, but the most interesting part is her maid. That girl isn't ordinary."
Though Li Yang's focus seemed to remain on his spear, her words had already caught his attention.
He, too, was curious about Qingxiao Sect. Otherwise, he wouldn't have stayed here this long.
Zhao Linglong noticed the slight change in his expression and smiled faintly, continuing to talk about all she'd seen and heard in the sect.
After a while, her voice began to tire. She finally stood, preparing to leave. But just before she stepped out, she turned and added, "Oh, right—Yang Jueding built a new sparring platform halfway up the mountain. Disciples of Qingxiao and martial artists from the jianghu can go there to exchange pointers—just a friendly bout, no killing. It's quite entertaining. There's this kid named Qin Ye—he's already won twenty matches. They say he's the Sect Master's second disciple. If your hands are itching for a fight, maybe you should give it a try."
After she left, Li Yang continued training for a while longer before lowering his spear.
He slowly lifted his head toward the vast blue sky and murmured, "Why did it have to be someone with the surname Li…"
He still couldn't forget that moment—the sight of Li Qingqiu descending from the sky atop his black eagle. That scene had shattered everything he once believed in, and now, even his values had begun to waver.
He hadn't stayed in Qingxiao Sect merely to recover from his wounds. He was here to calm his heart—to think.
Maybe it was time to step outside and see for himself what kind of place Qingxiao Sect truly was.
...
Zhongtian Prefecture, Imperial Capital.
Known in ancient times as Zhenyang City, the imperial capital of the Great Li Dynasty had stood for over one thousand years, surviving through five dynasties. It had seen both the rise and fall of empires and bore silent witness to the transformation of the mortal world.
With the founding of the Great Li Dynasty, Zhenyang City had entered another age of prosperity.
Feng Dai, wearing a dark official robe, stood atop a tall pavilion, gazing across the grand city bathed in the orange glow of the setting sun. With his hands clasped behind his back, he watched as the light spilled over the rooftops and walls.
He had already been in the imperial city for some time, but whenever he found a free moment, he liked to come here to admire its breathtaking view.
The pavilion was four stories high, its red-tiled roof curving upward like dragon horns. Redwood pillars lined the structure, carved with intricate motifs. Below, the streets teemed with life—merchants shouting, horses clattering by, and martial artists passing through. Every time he stood here, Feng Dai couldn't help feeling as though all of this was a dream.
Nowhere in Guzhou could compare to this. No city there was so prosperous, so dazzlingly alive.
But even amidst the splendor, Feng Dai's heart felt heavy. The people here lived in luxury, praising the emperor's benevolence, his wisdom, and his military prowess. To them, this was a golden age unlike any other.
He had once wanted to expose the emperor's crimes—but now, that seemed impossible. Even if the emperor had committed great sins, what did they matter compared to the glory and peace he had brought?
As Feng Dai's thoughts drifted into confusion, footsteps echoed behind him. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was.
Jia Yi, wearing the embroidered uniform of the Heaven-Guardian Division, strode into the room. He sat down at the table, poured himself a bowl of wine, and drank it in one gulp.
He downed three bowls in quick succession before letting out a satisfied breath.
"The palace grows stranger by the day. I'm honestly starting to fear going inside."
His first words caught Feng Dai's attention. The latter turned toward him, frowning slightly. "What do you mean by that?"
Jia Yi gestured for him to sit, lowering his voice as he spoke.
"The emperor invited masters from all over the martial world, didn't he? But some of those sect leaders and alliance masters—once they enter the palace, they never come out again. And every night… someone cries. You can't tell if it's a man or a woman. People say it's the ghosts of the dead."
Feng Dai frowned deeply. "But no such rumors are spreading in the city. On the contrary, some sect masters have been boasting about meeting the emperor in person. His Majesty even granted official ranks to a few of them."
Jia Yi shook his head. "That's just what the public sees. I'm Heaven-Guardian Division—I know more than most. Some of our own men helped clean up the corpses. They say the deaths happened right inside the great hall."
Feng Dai's eyes darkened. He suddenly recalled what Wu Baoyu had once said—if the Demonic Sect truly was created by the emperor himself, then the man's martial strength must be unfathomable.
And now, with his obsession for the elixir of immortality… Feng Dai couldn't help but imagine the worst.
"Starting today, the Heaven-Guardian Division has been merged under the Bureau of Martial Prohibition. The days ahead won't be peaceful."
Jia Yi sighed as he spoke, refilling his bowl and downing another gulp of wine. "You don't understand. The Bureau of Martial Prohibition was founded personally by His Majesty after ascending the throne. It doesn't answer to the Six Ministries—it answers only to him. The Heaven-Guardian Division, on the other hand, was created by the High Ancestor. Though it fell into decline under the previous emperor, it still has deep roots in history. So, we've always clashed with the Bureau. And now? We've fallen to the point of being their subordinates. You think life will be easy from here?"
Feng Dai frowned. "But the Heaven-Guardian Division's men are all experts. The top-ranked among you were once Martial Champions and first-class masters. Even if the Bureau oversees you, surely they can't truly control you?"
Jia Yi glared at him. "Those people in the Bureau are no weaker than us! And the strangest part is, no one knows where His Majesty found them. They appeared out of nowhere—each one powerful, mysterious, and strange. They all wear masks and only act at night. Even here in the imperial city, very few know they exist."
He lowered his voice. "The head of the Bureau is known only as Lord Xuan. His strength is unfathomable. No matter how strong an opponent is, he can kill them with ease. A few years ago, I saw it myself—he killed the strongest martial artist of Southern Chuzhou from twenty years ago in just three moves. His body technique was like a ghost's, and his palm strikes were unmatched—pure power and dominance."
As he recalled the scene, a chill ran down his spine, his skin prickling at the memory.
Feng Dai's brows furrowed even tighter. "And how does this Lord Xuan compare to Sect Master Li?"
Jia Yi thought for a while before answering. "Hard to say. Neither has ever shown their full strength before me. But if I had to guess… the only person in this world who could stand against Lord Xuan would be the Master of Qingxiao Sect."
Just thinking about Li Qingqiu made him shiver again. He never wanted to experience the agony of the Soul-Binding Curse ever again.
Feng Dai's expression turned grim. The world had only just found peace—was the emperor planning to destroy it all again?
He needed to write to Sect Master Li, and fast. The man had to be warned. If the emperor truly intended to target the great martial masters of the realm, Qingxiao Sect would not be spared.
Lately, word of Qingxiao Sect's growing might had reached even the capital. Feng Dai couldn't help but worry that Jiang Zhaoxia and Xu Ning would catch the emperor's attention.
Jia Yi, unaware of Feng Dai's thoughts, went on venting his frustrations. Outside of Zhongtian Prefecture, his position as a Heaven-Guardian officer carried prestige and honor. But within the imperial palace, he walked on eggshells every day—his title meant nothing there.
...
The sunlight was bright, and a cool breeze drifted down from the mountain peaks.
Li Qingqiu descended the path with Yuan Li and Zhao Zhen. As they walked, they passed by the sparring platform that Yang Jueding had built halfway down the slope.
Yang Jueding and Xu Ning had left the mountain ten days ago, bringing along five disciples for real-world experience and training.
Li Qingqiu wasn't worried about them. Yang Jueding was a seasoned veteran of the martial world, and Xu Ning had already seen bloodshed. Nothing in Guzhou should pose a real threat to them.
As they came out of the forested trail, Li Qingqiu noticed a crowd of onlookers gathered around the sparring stage—disciples, travelers, craftsmen, and wandering martial artists alike. Cheers rose from time to time.
Disciples patrolled the mountain daily now, and order had been well maintained.
Li Qingqiu raised an eyebrow and turned toward the stage. Two women were facing off. One was Liu Yan, the disciple of Li Dongyue. The other, dressed in black, looked strangely familiar.
A moment later, recognition struck him—it was that same woman from before, the one who had guided him to the Seven Peaks Alliance: Chai Yunshang.
Though Liu Yan had reached the first layer of the Nurturing Essence Realm, she was clearly no match for Chai Yunshang. Still, Chai Yunshang wasn't trying to humiliate her. Their spar was light—more like she was guiding Liu Yan's movements, helping her understand her own weaknesses.
Li Qingqiu didn't stop walking. Yuan Li and Zhao Zhen showed no interest in the duel.
As they passed, disciples nearby turned and bowed respectfully.
Chai Yunshang noticed the movement below the stage. Her gaze followed theirs—and then her pupils widened.
It was him.
She would never forget that man from years ago—the young cultivator who had walked up the mountain alone, slain Lü Taidou in the dead of night, and then vanished without a trace.
She had never learned his name. But that face… she could never forget it.
'He's from Qingxiao Sect? No… he must hold a high position there.'
She quickly steadied herself and refocused on the spar.
Not far away, Gu Dubao had also caught sight of her sudden change in expression. He turned and glanced at Li Qingqiu's group disappearing down the path.
"Two young boys by his side… could that be the Sect Master of Qingxiao Sect?"
Curiosity stirred in his chest. He and Chai Yunshang had been staying at Qingxiao Sect for a while now. Though they had paid for lodging, they had yet to meet the Sect Master in person—but from the disciples' stories, the man was extraordinary.
When Li Qingqiu and the boys disappeared into the forest below, Gu Dubao made up his mind to follow.
He wanted to find a chance to speak with Li Qingqiu, to see if the manual in his possession might convince the Sect Master to take Chai Yunshang as a disciple.
They walked for roughly two li before Li Qingqiu suddenly stopped, placing a hand on each boy's shoulder.
"Lier, Zhen'er," he said lightly, "today I'll teach you how to deal with bad people. How about that?"
His voice echoed calmly through the trees—but to Gu Dubao, who was hiding behind a nearby trunk, it sounded like thunder. His heart jumped. He almost stepped out to explain himself.
Then a cold, mocking laugh rolled through the forest, its echo stretching in every direction.
"So, the Qingxiao Sect has more than just Jiang Zhaoxia and Xu Ning. Seems our information was correct after all. Sect Master Li may truly have inherited the True Legacy of Qingxiao."
Gu Dubao froze. His whole body tensed, sinking lower behind the tree.
Someone had come—someone bold enough to ambush the Sect Master of Qingxiao Sect himself.
Who could possibly dare such a thing?