Something was bound to happen. They all knew that the disappearance of wandering cultivators wasn’t the end but the beginning.
With so many wandering cultivators surging in, such incidents were inevitable.
Tan Huai was silent for a moment, then, seeing that no one else was speaking, he asked, “Putting this matter aside, I haven’t asked why you all came here in the first place?”
Sang Dai glanced at Su Xuan, who said in a calm voice, “If you want to tell him, just tell him. There’s no need to hide it. Aren’t you old friends? Tan Huai already knows about the person in the Snow Realm who’s coming to kill you.”
But Tan Huai only knew that much. Sang Dai hadn’t voluntarily disclosed other details, and Tan Huai hadn’t asked. In the Snow Realm, Tan Huai and Ji Cang only knew that Sang Dai was there to seek answers about Ying Heng regarding past events, assuming she wanted to clear her master’s name.
Sang Dai nodded and straightforwardly explained everything to Tan Huai, including why they came here and the fact that Ying Heng was still alive.
When she finished speaking, the four of them fell silent for a long time. The room was quiet.
Tan Huai’s voice trembled. “You’re saying the Chunying Sword appeared here?”
The fact that Ying Heng survived the Four Realms’ pursuit was already enough to leave him shaken. Now, the reappearance of Ying Heng’s sword added to the shock. Although Tan Huai had never met Ying Heng, he had heard of his name.
The matter of the Guixu spiritual vein’s destruction caused quite a stir back then. Even Tan Huai, who was only thirteen years old at the time, knew about it.
Sang Dai began, “But this matter hasn’t yet—”
“Miss Sang, stop talking for a moment. Let me process this.”
Tan Huai interrupted her before she could finish speaking.
The Buddhist cultivator appeared bewildered, his expression shockingly alarmed.
He clutched his head and muttered to himself, “So Immortal Lord Ying Heng isn’t dead. You all went to the Snow Realm to seek the Tianyu Snow and uncover what truly happened to Ying Heng back then. And the result you found is that the massacre at Cangwu Daoist Temple was very likely not Ying Heng’s doing. He might be innocent.”
“Yes.”
Tan Huai’s eyes turned red, his lips trembling as he raised his gaze to look at Sang Dai.
He said, “Sang Dai, do you realize what this means? The one who truly destroyed the Guixu spiritual vein and massacred the three thousand people of Cangwu Daoist Temple may have been at large for over a hundred years. Who knows what else they’ve done during this time? Even if your master is proven innocent, he absolutely knows the truth. He shielded the real culprit and took the blame for them. Even if the truth comes out, the Four Realms will never forgive him…”
“Moreover, you might once again find yourself thrust into the center of the storm. You are Ying Heng’s disciple, after all. And besides, the Four Realms may not even recognize the truth you uncover.”
The destruction of the Guixu spiritual vein and the massacre of over three thousand people at Cangwu Daoist Temple were unchangeable facts. But would the Four Realms, which had misjudged and pursued the wrong person, admit their mistake? Would those who self-righteously condemned Ying Heng as a sinner—and even sought to assassinate Sang Dai for it—acknowledge they were wrong?
The once-relaxed atmosphere in the room grew heavy in an instant.
Liu Lixue hesitantly looked at his sovereign and Sang Dai. Su Xuan was also watching Sang Dai, who had her head lowered in silence.
Tan Huai asked, “Sang Dai, even knowing this, do you still want to investigate?”
If she chose not to, avoiding the Guixu and living her life quietly, she could live in peace.
But if she pursued the truth, she might end up facing the fate Ling Yin spoke of, being hunted down in the Guixu, or even betrayed by the Four Realms.
Sang Dai held the teacup in both hands, her gaze falling on the rippling surface of the water inside.
Suddenly, a warm, dry palm covered the back of her hand.
“Dai Dai, you’ve always been resolute.”
Sang Dai raised her eyes.
Tan Huai’s words were ones Sang Dai had asked Su Xuan not long ago.
Su Xuan’s answer to her had been:
—Walk your own path.
Sang Dai smiled faintly, released her grip on the teacup, and turned her hand to clasp the little fox’s.
“I know. I’ve never wavered.”
She turned to Tan Huai and replied, “I’ll investigate. If I uncover the truth, no matter the result, I will have no regrets. But if I don’t, I’ll never be at peace for the rest of my life.”
Tan Huai met her gaze. It was rare for the Buddhist cultivator to be so solemn. He was usually calm and laid-back no matter the circumstances.
Finally, he spoke softly, “Sang Dai, all these years, you haven’t changed at all.”
They had fought side by side many times. Sang Dai fought fiercely, wielded her sword steadily, and had an unwavering heart. She had been like this all along.
Tan Huai shook his head and drained his tea in one gulp.
Wiping the tea from the corner of his mouth, he said, “This humble monk is also a Heaven-grade spiritual root awakener. I’ve been blessed with the respect of the world, and I should do something in return. The destruction of the Guixu spiritual vein concerns the survival of the cultivation world. If there’s anything you need my help with in this matter, don’t hesitate to ask. As for Immortal Lord Ying Heng’s situation, I won’t breathe a word of it. You can rest assured and focus on your investigation.”
Sang Dai nodded. “Thank you.”
Tan Huai handed over his empty teacup and suddenly grinned. “Then may this humble monk trouble you for another cup of tea?”
He had quickly returned to his usual unserious demeanor, his mood shifting remarkably fast as if deliberately trying to lighten the atmosphere. Sang Dai suppressed a laugh and glanced at Su Xuan.
The teapot was on Su Xuan’s side, but before he could pick it up, the peacock was already ahead of him.
“I’ll do it, I’ll do it. There’s no need for my sovereign to lift a finger.”
Liu Lixue picked up the teapot and poured another cup of tea for Tan Huai.
The Buddhist cultivator took it and complimented, “This tea is truly delicious. Would it be possible to send some to me another day?”
Su Xuan sneered coldly. “If you want it, come to the Beast Realm and get it yourself. Who asks for things and expects them to be delivered?”
Tan Huai shook his head in regret. As expected, the Beast King’s politeness only lasted a short while; at his core, he was still an arrogant, haughty little fox.
As Tan Huai sipped his tea, he noticed the others leisurely drinking theirs. An idea struck him, and his eyes lit up as he leaned forward. “Are you all planning to sleep tonight?”
Sang Dai asked, “Master Tan Huai, what do you have in mind?”
Tan Huai blinked mischievously and replied, “How about a night tour of the City Lord’s Manor?”
The three of them: “…”
Tan Huai dropped his smile, lowered his voice, and leaned closer. “You’ve probably noticed the peculiarities in City Lord Wu’s cultivation. For someone with an Earth-grade spiritual root, reaching the Nascent Soul stage is already a miracle. He barely seems to have cultivated at all, yet he suddenly broke through to the Soul Transformation stage. You have to understand, even for a cultivator with a Profound-grade spiritual root, entering the Soul Transformation stage requires exceptional talent, decades of diligent cultivation, and enlightenment during seclusion.”
“Moreover,” Tan Huai glanced at the tightly closed door, “with the disappearance of over a dozen rogue cultivators at Linglong Town and his sudden advancement, forgive me for being suspicious, but I can’t help wondering if he’s connected to this.”
“As they say, timing is everything. I happen to want to investigate as well. The person behind the scenes lured you all to Linglong Town, and this disappearance of rogue cultivators might also be tied to them. Let’s start by looking into Wu Hanshu and gradually trace the connections.”
“I’ve observed that the moon is bright tonight and the celestial signs are auspicious. Why not take the opportunity to break into a residence?”
The three of them: “……………”
—
Late at night.
Sang Dai stood on the rooftop, looking up at the overcast sky, the moonlight faint and dim.
She asked, “Didn’t you say the moon would be bright?”
Tan Huai chuckled sheepishly. “It’s darker, which is better. This way, we’re less likely to be spotted.”
Liu Lixue poked his head out from between the two and sincerely suggested, “If you don’t bring me along, the three of you probably won’t be discovered.”
The three of them were all Heaven-grade spiritual root awakeners, while the City Lord’s Manor didn’t have any high-level cultivators.
The three turned to look at the flamboyant peacock.
The peacock held his head high, his expression clearly saying, ‘Please leave me here. I have no desire to run around, and I am utterly uninterested in breaking into someone’s house.’
Suddenly, Su Xuan said, “Yes, you stay here.”
Liu Lixue skillfully pulled out a cushion. “Got it.”
Whenever he accompanied his sovereign on outings, it was usually his job to find a spot to sit and wait for Su Xuan to finish whatever he needed to do.
Tan Huai’s eye twitched.
Sang Dai was already accustomed to this.
Suddenly, Su Xuan lowered his head and smiled at Liu Lixue, who was sitting on the rooftop. “If that murderous creature happens to patrol Linglong Town in the middle of the night and sees such a conspicuous figure sitting on the rooftop—a Nascent Soul-stage cultivator and a young master of the Peacock Clan—it’ll probably be overjoyed.”
Liu Lixue: “…”
He numbly looked up and clutched his chest. “My lord, do you hear how panicked your subordinate’s heart is?”
Despite the banter, Su Xuan tossed Liu Lixue a jade token.
“If something happens, summon me.”
Liu Lixue held the jade token tightly. “Understood.”
Although Liu Lixue claimed not to want to patrol the City Lord’s Manor at night, the real reason for leaving him behind was to have someone keep watch. Even with three Heaven-grade spiritual root awakeners, they couldn’t afford to be careless. Positioned high above, Liu Lixue could oversee the entire City Lord’s Manor and promptly report any unusual activity.
Tan Huai pointed into the distance. “The City Lord’s Manor is surrounded by high walls on all sides. Wu Hanshu is a highly cautious individual. He has several residences within the manor, and it’s uncertain where he’ll be staying tonight. From what I know, there are six locations. Let’s each search two and see if we notice anything unusual.”
Sang Dai’s expression turned enigmatic. “…How do you know the layout of the City Lord’s Manor?”
Su Xuan asked suspiciously, “Have you been here before?”
Tan Huai scratched his bald head and mumbled, “I was a bit mischievous as a kid. I came to Linglong Town with my master for business. I made him angry midway, and he chased me to punish me, so I ran into the City Lord’s Manor and stayed there for a few days.”
“…Did Wu Hanshu know?”
“Nope. I snuck in. Wu Hanshu was drinking every day and didn’t even notice me. I even snuck some of his wine—it was awful.”
The three of them: “…”
Tan Huai chuckled. “So, shall we get going?”
Sang Dai: “…Alright.”
She glanced at Su Xuan. “I’ll take the two residences on the east side. If anything happens, I’ll contact you. Don’t worry.”
The little fox nodded. “If something happens, make sure to call me.”
Sang Dai shook the silver feather pendant at her waist. “You do the same. Don’t act recklessly.”
Su Xuan patted her head. “Okay.”
Tan Huai interjected, “…So, if I run into trouble, who do I call?”
The two of them parted ways without looking back, each heading in opposite directions. Their voices echoed simultaneously as they left.
“Whoever you want.”
Tan Huai sighed and closed his eyes in resignation.
Liu Lixue waved from the rooftop. “Master Tan Huai, you can call me if you need help. I can relay a message to them for you.”
Tan Huai said nothing, leapt off the rooftop, and quickly disappeared into the darkness.
Sang Dai headed to the east, where two residences were located.
The City Lord’s Manor had many guards, but their cultivation levels were low. She easily avoided them as she made her way forward.
Sang Dai arrived safely at the first residence. The restrictions in place posed no threat to her, and she easily climbed through a window. She searched for nearly half an hour but found nothing.
She didn’t linger and turned to head to the second location.
This place was even more remote than the previous residence, situated at the farthest edge of the eastern side. The building was empty, and she didn’t dare light a lamp, carefully feeling her way forward.
Reaching out to wipe the surface of a table, her fingers came away covered in dust.
It was covered in dust—clearly, no one had lived here for quite some time.
Sang Dai furrowed her brows and was about to turn toward the door to start searching when—
The half-open window suddenly shifted, and a figure leapt inside with swift precision. Caught in the center of the room with nowhere to hide, she drew her sword and pressed it against the intruder’s throat.
The blade sliced through the air, its sharp point halting at the base of the intruder’s throat. Just a fraction more, and it would sever his vital artery.
The young man in white froze, first lowering his gaze to the sword at his throat. The intricate patterns on the blade looked strikingly familiar.
He blinked in confusion, his first reaction not fear but the rapid pounding of his heart.
Slowly, his gaze lifted, coming to rest on the familiar hilt of the sword, where the words Zhiyu were engraved. The hand holding the sword was steady.
“…Shen Ciyu?”
The clear, soft voice echoed in the silent room, carrying a trace of doubt.
The sword at his throat was withdrawn.
Shen Ciyu finally raised his eyes to meet Sang Dai’s.
She looked just as she had earlier that evening. As their gazes met, he didn’t see the calm, detached, and aloof sword cultivator from before. Now, Sang Dai’s expression was brighter, and her eyes carried a newfound warmth.
“Sang Dai…”
Sang Dai frowned, her gaze falling to his shoulder.
There, a wound was oozing blood, staining the white robe beside it red.
“You’re injured. Do you need my help?”
Shen Ciyu belatedly covered his shoulder, hiding the wound, and said softly, “It’s fine. I don’t need help.”
Sang Dai nodded. “…I have other matters to attend to. If you’re alright, I’ll be leaving now.”
Shen Ciyu lowered his eyes, and as she was about to leave, he said in a deep voice, “You’re here to investigate Wu Hanshu, aren’t you?”
Sang Dai didn’t respond. Shen Ciyu was too perceptive not to figure it out.
Pressing the acupuncture points around his wound to stop the bleeding, Shen Ciyu looked at her again.
He tried to restrain his gaze and spoke softly, “I’m investigating as well. I know some things, and I can tell you.”
Sang Dai didn’t answer but suddenly moved. The gentleness in her expression vanished, replaced by sharp vigilance. Grabbing Shen Ciyu’s arm, she leapt out of the window, pulling him onto the rooftop before he had time to react.
Her voice was low and serious. “Don’t speak.”
Shen Ciyu responded quickly, nodding. “Alright.”
On the rooftop, the two of them crouched in the shadows, concealed from view.
Outside the courtyard, a figure swayed as he walked, holding a wine bottle in his hand. His features were indistinct, but his tall stature was apparent.
He pushed open the courtyard gate, taking slow, unsteady sips from his bottle as he strolled to a corner of the yard.
There stood a sweet osmanthus tree.
It seemed to be quite old, its trunk thick and its branches lush with foliage.
The man tilted his head back, gazing up at the nearly bare blossoms of the tree.
He stood there, staring for a long time, without uttering a single word.
On the rooftop, Shen Ciyu’s wound reopened, and he pressed the acupuncture points again to stop the bleeding.
Sang Dai silently handed him a bottle of medicinal pills, her gaze fixed on the person in the courtyard.
Shen Ciyu glanced at her briefly, then took the bottle and consumed one pill.
The man remained standing for a long time, long enough for Sang Dai’s legs to grow numb from crouching. Finally, he made a move.
He raised a hand and gently touched the trunk of the osmanthus tree, speaking softly:
“Our century-long promise, the six of us—none of you came.”