Lu Lingfeng was the fastest, landing on the cliff first. She sized Wei Qingming up and said, "You have a treasure on you. It’s glowing."
Wei Qingming thought for a moment, then pulled a strange-looking small black iron box from her robes. "Is it this?"
Lu Lingfeng gave a soft "mm." Wei Qingming smiled and opened the box, holding it out for her to see. "It is not that I am stingy," she said apologetically, "but this is tied to my very life. I cannot give it away."
Lu Lingfeng did not try to take it. Instead, she narrowed her eyes with interest and peered inside. Once she finished looking, she straightened up. Wei Qingming raised a finger to her lips, signaling for silence, and the two shared a knowing nod.
I found the scene both comical and helpless. With a formidable enemy before us, Lord Wei actually had the heart to play along with my eccentric Senior Sister... Qiao Songlin and Zhu Yixin were busy setting up a defensive illusion array on the cliff top. The three of us exchanged a wry smile.
Everyone held their breath and watched. Dozens of spiritual lights, like a flock of iridescent birds, converged and poured into the great formation. Meanwhile, Bai Yuyu’s six brushes continued their frantic, rhythmic dance. After about fifteen minutes, many of those below had exhausted their internal essence and resorted to using spirit crystals. Finally, a blue light gradually rose across the sky. This light was bright and pure, like the sky and the sea—the characteristic color of the Wujing Sect’s fundamental cultivation and formation techniques. Seeing it for the first time, I found it beautiful; amidst its righteous aura, there was a sense of profound, compassionate mercy. This must be the essence of the techniques created by Ni Tian himself.
Before Bai Yuyu could even put away his brushes, he gave Yan Mingqiu a nod. Yan Mingqiu, who had been sitting lazily on the ground with his eyes closed, suddenly snapped them open. The red tassel on his spear shook violently as he danced out a flurry of red light. An incomparable, fierce dominance erupted from him, sharp and unstoppable. In less than three breaths—almost in a single instant—he completed his task. Though a disciple of a Daoist sect, his temperament was entirely that of a hero who could take a general's head amidst ten thousand horses. Fast as he was, every rise, turn, transition, and strike of his spear was clearly visible. His foundation was incredibly solid, his movements clean and decisive, without a single shred of wasted strength. It was the embodiment of the Great Dao found in simplicity.
He casually retracted his spear and sat back down as if nothing had happened, returning to his grinning, cynical demeanor. I couldn't help but feel nervous for Wei Qingming; this man was truly a formidable rival for the Tianshan Meet. In terms of martial skill alone, the two were evenly matched. In fact, because a spear’s length offers a natural advantage, Yan Mingqiu might even have the upper hand—especially since he had spent his entire life refining nothing but his martial techniques, making his skill exceptionally pure.
However, the shifting situation on the field quickly interrupted my thoughts. The great formation began to waver. For a moment, it felt as if the mountains were collapsing and the earth was rending. Massive cracks appeared in the cliffs of this illusion realm, and the space itself began to distort visibly. No one could keep their footing, and we were forced to take to the air. The woman finally appeared again. Her voice was still soft and elegant, yet it made one’s skin crawl. "Overestimating yourselves..."
As expected, she chose to strike us with an absolutely overwhelming illusion. It was a pale purple fragrance that looked like both cloud and mist. While clouds usually drift slowly, this illusion was faster than lightning as it swept down toward us. Amidst the cries of alarm from the people below the cliff, Qiao Songlin took the lead with Lu Lingfeng and Zhu Yixin supporting him. Together, the three of them manifested a small mirror, barely managing to block the path of the fragrant mist.
A brilliant red Lycoris flower bloomed from the surface of the mirror, expanding in an instant into a giant net. The delicate, thread-like petals formed a crisscrossing lattice that halted the fragrant mist for a heartbeat. This was my Master’s technique.
The woman’s figure manifested fully, becoming as clear as a real human being. She froze for a moment. Her slender, jade-like hand had been about to crush the mirror—and the people behind it—but she stopped abruptly.
She touched the mirror with a look of profound longing, then appeared angry, then sorrowful. A nearly inaudible call escaped her lips as she whispered a name.
Two syllables. Huan Yi. It was Master’s name.
She only lost herself for a split second before snapping back to reality. Her Canxia Realm pressure and killing intent were released without reservation. She knew exactly who had plotted all of this. In a fit of rage, she flung a handful of poisonous purple needles at Wei Qingming. The range was so wide and the speed so great that it was enough to kill all of us in the process!
My heart nearly stopped. I frantically threw out several life-saving treasures toward Wei Qingming. Yan Mingqiu, Qiao Songlin, and Zhang Yuande did the same, while Zhu Yixin and Lu Lingfeng threw the treasures Master had given them to block the incoming illusion. But before our defensive tools could reach her, a giant hand reached down from the sky. It scooped up the poisonous needles in a single motion and crushed them as easily as if they were scraps of paper.
The giant hand rose again and smashed the great formation—which had briefly recovered after being broken—into tiny fragments.
A vigorous male voice roared, "Shameless enchantress! How dare you commit such atrocities within the borders of my Wujing Sect!"
The woman spun around to face three Canxia Realm masters. The one who had spoken was Zhong Shikuang, one of the elders of the Hall of Divine Firmament, which specialized in exorcism and defense. The other two were Zheng Tongfu and Wei Yi'an, the seniors from the Heavenly Balance Gate and the Ink Feather Sect responsible for escorting their disciples to the Tianshan Meet.
I breathed a massive sigh of relief. When immortals fight, we little ghosts just need to hide and stay out of the crossfire. I hurried to Wei Qingming’s side and whispered, "Are you alright?"
Wei Qingming shook her head with a faint smile.
Fearing she might try to contribute more "valuable suggestions" and lose her life in the process, I grabbed her sleeve tightly and dragged her down from the cliff. Yan Mingqiu and the others had already left; only Qiao Songlin remained, waiting to escort us.
Before we even landed, the intimacy between us sparked surprise among the crowd below. Quite a few men and women wore strange expressions; some even gnashed their teeth or stamped their feet in frustration. The few I had met in the capital knew of our history and remained calm. Yu Niannian gave me a mischievous giggle, while Yan Xiangjun wore a faint, unreadable smile. I ignored them all and picked a seat for myself. Wei Qingming sat down beside me with great poise, thoughtfully summoning a tea set from her robes. With movements as fluid as flowing water, she brewed hot tea and poured a cup for me.
I blew on the rising steam, watching the "immortals" battle in the sky while asking Wei Qingming, "They arrived so fast, yet I didn't see any messenger talismans. What kind of divine ability does the Ink Feather Sect use?"
"The God-Communication Technique—a form of sorcery used to communicate with heaven, earth, gods, and spirits," Wei Qingming explained. "As long as the formation fails for even a heartbeat, they can invite a messenger deity to descend, and reinforcements will arrive in an instant."
This was truly unheard of! I looked at the mild-mannered Zhang Yuande with even greater astonishment. I hadn't seen him perform any ritual at all. Didn't inviting a god require a grand dance or something? He hadn't even taken his hands out of his sleeves! Despite having achieved such a great feat, he remained silent as if nothing had happened, sitting in his place and meditating. The ink-colored aura rising from him was truly like a beautiful painting...
I sighed. "So even a message for a god can be blocked by a human formation."
"A message from a god travels downward; naturally, humans cannot interfere. But for a human to approach a god and reach the ears of heaven, the path is filled with a thousand obstacles."
I leaned into her arms with a grin, showering her with praise as if it cost nothing. "You planned everything and secured a great victory so easily. Aren't you a god yourself?"
She smiled and shook her head. Countless gazes from the surroundings shot toward us simultaneously. Realizing my lack of decorum, I immediately bounced back as if pricked by a needle and coughed. "Martial Uncle Wei, my apologies for the offense."
She only continued to smile, though her expression dimmed slightly, returning to that desolate, silent look she had when we first met today. Even the successful resolution of the danger couldn't bring her a shred of joy. I couldn't help but feel worried and pained for her again. What exactly was weighing so heavily on her heart? I would have to ask her properly once we got out.
Her hand reached out quietly beneath the table, a tender and expectant curve waiting for me to take it. As I felt the warmth of her palm and breathed in the fragrance surrounding her, my mind wandered again. It felt as if happiness had arrived too quickly—faster even than a deity summoned by the God-Communication Technique...
We "small fry" couldn't quite understand a battle between Canxia Realm masters. Currently, only Old Man Zhong was fighting the woman. The other two Canxia masters naturally wouldn't swarm her all at once; they waited in mid-air with great poise, present only because of their duty to protect the disciples. How could the woman’s spells and martial skills compete with an elder of the Wujing Sect who specialized in combat? Just those two mountain-sized hands were enough to keep her on the run. Even as she dodged, she didn't forget to continuously release illusions—or, according to her specific sect, charm arts.
The women were naturally less affected, but many of the male disciples below were already struggling. Their faces were flushed, and their minds were clearly wandering... Zhu Yixin looked on with impatience. Without waiting for her command, Qiao Songlin summoned his natal treasure, the Cauldron of the Lucid Heart. It hovered high in the air, raining down a cool, sobering aura that prevented any scandalous behavior.
In just a few moments, over a hundred rounds had passed in the sky. The woman seemed to be at her wit's end. She held her hands before her, forming an illusion seal. The edges of the illusion realm—which was the size of the entire Xiao Xie Peak—began to collapse. She was going to detonate it!
I was scared out of my wits. Just as I was about to pull Wei Qingming and run, the blue of the sky began to change. The pale, slightly wan color of the northern sky slowly transformed into a deep, abyssal blue, as if the world had turned upside down. It felt as if we were standing at the bottom of a thousand-fathom sea; surrounding us was nothing but unchanging yet ever-flowing seawater. My heart felt tranquil, vast, and comfortable, but for an enemy, this was a confrontation with a terrifying, profound unknown.
I exchanged a look with Zhu Yixin and the others, and we cheered in unison, "Big Brother!"
Lu Kaifeng’s illusion realm had cut in at the perfect moment. For every inch the woman’s self-destructing realm receded, his realm advanced slowly and inexorably. Seeing this, the woman stopped her hand seals and hissed through gritted teeth, "She taught her disciples well!"
Alas, this woman was truly a source of calamity; even her angry voice sounded so beautiful. That ambiguous, blurred "she," laden with a thousand hidden thoughts, sounded almost like a desolate cry of grief.
Lu Kaifeng appeared out of thin air upon the cliff, smiling as he cupped his hands. "Senior Yin, please forgive my rudeness."
After spitting out those words of resentment, the woman vanished in an instant—like a mysterious fragrance whose origin and destination were unknown, or like the fleeting image of an old friend flashing through one's mind.
