The spiritual pressure between Master Yuan and Li Zhaoye clashed fiercely, rippling invisibly through the solemn and austere hall. The entire chamber seemed submerged underwater, the surroundings distorting and swaying before their eyes.
Master Qingxu, sleeves folded together, lowered his gaze with a faint smile. "Inciting the Divine Lord to storm our sect—that would only make your position even less justified."
His words struck a chord, and several elders quickly caught on.
"Exactly! Using external forces to seize the Sect Leader’s position—such intentions are unforgivable!"
"Are you so determined to betray the sect?"
"The Divine Lord should not interfere in our internal affairs."
"Hand over the Sect Leader’s Token at once. We can discuss the rest later."
Li Zhaoye sneered in response.
Just as he was about to act, Xu Junzhu stepped forward, bowing solemnly to the elders.
"Before my master passed, he entrusted the sect to me. I will not fail him," she said, her gaze as sharp as snow. "I am young and my cultivation is weak. To be suddenly given such responsibility—it’s understandable if you doubt me."
One elder frowned. "Since you’re aware—"
Xu Junzhu continued, "But I followed my master for years. I know his temperament, his ways. I swear that under my leadership, the sect will operate no differently than before—"
"Sect affairs are no child’s play!" Master Yuan cut her off with a flick of his sleeve. "Hand over the token now, or I won’t hesitate to test my skills against the Divine Lord!"
Xu Junzhu’s voice hardened. "The Sect Leader’s Token was given to me by my master. I will not surrender it."
Master Yuan narrowed his eyes. "Then you would raise your blade against your own sect, siding with an outsider?"
Luo Luo finally understood.
Aside from Li Zhaoye, none of them were strong enough to fight back—that was why the elders were so bold.
Li Zhaoye, now the Divine Lord, couldn’t win without making Xu Junzhu’s succession seem even more illegitimate.
Steeling herself, Luo Luo raised her voice. "Are you so sure Li Zhaoye is an outsider?"
Master Yuan scoffed. "The Divine Lord is no disciple of the Tai Xuan Sect."
"Fine," Luo Luo nodded. "Then we’re leaving!"
Master Yuan blinked. "Leaving?"
"What?" Luo Luo shot back. "Which sect rule says Tai Xuan disciples can’t leave to slay demons?"
Master Yuan scowled. "Then hand over the Sect Leader’s Token—"
Luo Luo cut him off. "Which rule says we can’t take the token with us?"
Master Yuan faltered, momentarily speechless.
Luo Luo grabbed Li Zhaoye with one hand and Xu Junzhu with the other, motioning for the others to follow as she strode toward the exit.
Master Yuan’s eyes flickered.
Letting them leave might make it easier to reclaim the token later.
Before he could decide, the group had already reached the threshold.
Outside, a crowd of disciples had gathered, craning their necks to see inside.
"Senior Sister!" "Little Junior Sister!" "What’s really going on?" "What happened to the Sect Leader?" "What about Daoist Xuanyi?" "Are you really leaving?" "Is Senior Brother really the Divine Lord now?" "Congrats on winning the Qingyun Tournament, Junior Sister!"
The clamor of voices rose in a chaotic buzz.
Xu Junzhu gave a slight nod.
A few elders hurried after them.
Senior Uncle Wujiu of Qingyu Peak nearly tripped over the threshold in his haste. He stumbled out, grabbing two of his disciples by their collars. "You little brats! Abandoning your master? Have you no hearts?"
The two disciples hung their heads in shame. "Master… we…"
Though they knew they’d done nothing wrong, facing the man who’d raised them still stung.
"Don’t blame them, Senior Uncle Wujiu," Zhao Yu interjected. "The day before we returned, we even stole treasures from the Tian Dao Sect—Phoenix Eggs, Frost Jade Orchid seeds—we were so excited to bring them back for you…"
His gaze flickered toward his own master, Master Fuling, who remained unmoving inside the hall. A pang of bitterness struck him—he’d even packed extra seeds for him.
"It’s not that we’re heartless," Zhao Yu sniffed. "It’s fate!"
Nearby, Bai Yi was yanked back by the collar by Elder Yang of the Discipline Hall. "You little rascal! You’d betray the sect too? How bold!"
Bai Yi wailed, "Dad! We’re telling the truth! They’re the ones lying!"
Luo Luo gasped. "Elder Yang is Senior Brother Bai’s father?"
Father and son turned on her in unison.
"I don’t have the surname Yang!"
"I don’t have the surname Not-Yang!"
Another elder kicked his three disciples, sending them hopping and yelping.
"Master…" they pleaded, "the Sect Leader was murdered—we saw it with our own eyes! Staying means death… Come with us…"
The elder fumed. "Without the sect, where in this world will you go? When you’re starving, in danger, or broke, don’t come crawling back to me!"
"That won’t happen," Xu Junlan said. "We’re going to Winter Lord Ridge."
The elder’s eyes bulged. "That… that spiritual mountain in the southwest? The one with the dragon vein, exposed spirit ore, rare plants and beasts, and perpetual mist?"
Xu Junlan deadpanned. "How long have you been spying on it?"
The elder grinned sheepishly. "Well, it’s always been ownerless…"
His disciples proudly announced, "It belongs to Senior Sister Xu!"
The elder sucked in a breath. "Then… if this old master ever falls on hard times, runs into danger, or goes broke… could I…?"
Meanwhile, Luo Luo and Li Zhaoye were swarmed by disciples.
Questions flew at them from all sides.
"Junior Sister! I always knew Chen Xuanyi was shady! You did the right thing!"
"Was Senior Brother Qing…" A nervous glance toward the hall. "Was it really him? How ruthless! Why isn’t Master Uncle Yuan investigating?"
"He ignored the possession of Senior Brother and the plot against the Sect Leader, yet he’s coming after you? Even a blind man could see something’s wrong!"
"This sect’s doomed. Junior Sister, if you’ll have me, I’d like to go with you!"
Xu Junzhu frowned slightly. "The road ahead will be perilous."
Her group had survived life-and-death trials together. They trusted each other implicitly. But the others?
"I believe in Senior Sister!" a main peak disciple declared. "Our master chose her as his successor—I stand with her!"
"Who holds the Sect Leader’s Token is our leader! I trusted Master Uncle Lingxue, and I trust Senior Sister!"
"Senior Sister, you don’t know how chaotic it’s been. Master Uncle Yuan favors his own peak shamelessly. It’s infuriating!"
"Senior Sister governs just like the Sect Leader—fair and impartial. She’s the rightful heir!"
"Exactly! Senior Sister, take us with you! I’m done with this rotten place!"
The younger generation was familiar with Xu Junzhu and, unburdened by the reservations of their elders, had no objections to him becoming the sect leader.
"…"
When they stepped out of the sect, their group of disciples had grown considerably in size.
No matter how hard they tried to shoo them away, they wouldn’t leave.
Only one elder, Elder Bai, had come along.
He spent the entire journey scolding Bai Yi while tugging at his ear—or perhaps he was just so caught up in his anger that he forgot himself.
Zhao Yu looked up at the plaque outside the mountain gate.
"Last time, that fish of the senior brother bit me, and I was so startled I fell from mid-air and smashed this plaque—this is the new one I bought," he said, his lips quivering.
Truthfully, no one was in high spirits.
Luo Luo waved her hand grandly. "If you bought it, then take it with you!"
Zhao Yu blinked in surprise. "Can I? This is the plaque of the Tai Xuan Sect…"
"Why not?" Luo Luo replied. "Where the sect leader is, that’s where the Tai Xuan Sect is. We could use a plaque anyway."
Zhao Yu immediately brightened. "Alright!"
Hoisting the plaque onto his shoulder, he cheerfully stepped beyond the mountain gate.
Once they left the protective sect formation, Luo Luo and Li Zhaoye exchanged a glance.
He raised an eyebrow. "Can you manage on your own?"
Luo Luo nodded. "Mm."
"Good," he said, waving. "I’m off."
With that, he turned and vanished back through the gate.
The others were stunned. "Why did the senior brother go back?"
Luo Luo frantically gestured for them to move. "He’s going to wreck the place—let’s get out of here!"
The group: "…"
After sprinting several miles, they suddenly heard an earth-shaking explosion.
Turning back, they saw a massive plume of dust rising from the direction of the main peak’s grand hall.
Their pupils trembled in shock. "He’s tearing the mountain apart! We’re doomed! Run!"
"It’s fine, it’s fine," Luo Luo reassured them. "They’ll all be chasing him—they won’t have time for us."
"…"
She summoned her sword, Qiu Shui, and carved a crooked message onto the boundary stele:
—For compensation matters, please contact the Divine Palace.
"Master Uncle Yuan said it himself—the Divine Lord isn’t one of us in the Tai Xuan Sect, so this has nothing to do with us."
Li Zhaoye dashed through the ruins.
Dust billowed behind him as he laughed wildly, his figure flickering like a ghostly shadow.
In a flash, he appeared atop another grand hall.
Several figures hurriedly pursued him.
With a sweep of his sleeves, countless sealing threads erupted from behind him like a storm.
A deafening boom echoed as the hall beneath his feet crumbled into rubble.
Demolishing buildings was something he had mastered long ago in the illusions of Yu Fusheng.
By the time the pursuers reached the wreckage, an entire row of halls had already toppled like dominoes.
"Crash—boom—"
Thick smoke spiraled up the mountain path.
Master Yuan and the others choked on the dust left in Li Zhaoye’s wake.
The man wasn’t harming anyone—just dismantling structures. If any low-ranking disciples were inside, he’d bind them with sealing threads and toss them out.
Now, a group of disciples dangled mid-air, shrieking like a flock of ghostly kites riding the clouds.
Master Qingxu appeared beside Master Yuan.
"Ah," he sighed. "Let them keep chasing. The two of us will circle around to Mirror Twin Peak and ambush him."
"He’ll come?"
"He will."
Mirror Twin Peak. Hall of Introspection.
The newly repaired doors were kicked down once more. Li Zhaoye strode inside, trailing afterimages.
His gaze swept the room, a faint smirk curling his lips.
Time had dulled the colors of his memories, but he still remembered.
The fourth candlestick on the left hid a Heaven-grade restorative pill in its wick. He also remembered how the Old Man had thrown a fit when he discovered it missing.
He chuckled, but the memory scattered like ash, brushing past his eyes.
He recalled the Old Man’s usual haunts—the man could never sit still, always fidgeting like a restless monkey.
Dust settled behind him as he walked deeper into the hall.
The first thing he saw in the inner chamber were two meditation cushions.
One for him, one for Luo Luo. Back then, they’d sit there swaying as they recited cultivation techniques.
Every time he peeked, the Old Man—who was supposed to be listening—had already slipped away, leaving a wooden puppet in his place.
Luo Luo, the little fool, never noticed. She’d keep reciting obediently.
So he’d half-close his eyes, parroting her words—muddling through.
Li Zhaoye smiled.
The memory collapsed into dust, settling on his shoulder. He flicked it away.
Suddenly, his body grew heavy.
The once-familiar hall now felt alien—the pillars and walls seemed alive, twisting like monstrous shadows.
An invisible pressure bore down on him from all sides, as if he were sinking into quicksand.
"Hum—"
An unseen force slammed into his back.
Li Zhaoye countered with a backward strike.
"Boom!"
His sleeve collided with the barrier, sending shockwaves rippling outward.
The entire hall trembled.
Before he could blink, more barriers crashed toward him—front, back, left, right.
A single misstep, and he’d be flattened.
Someone had laid a trap here, waiting for him.
"Boom! Boom! Boom!"
Li Zhaoye deflected each barrier, but the residual shockwaves lingered, swirling through the hall.
Then, in an instant, an overwhelming force clamped down like a giant invisible fist.
The entire hall warped, and Li Zhaoye—standing at its center—was crushed within its grip.
Just as the pressure threatened to shatter his bones, a blinding sword light cleaved through the air.
"Clang!"
The Ninth Form of the Taiyi Sword Art.
Behind the blade gleamed a pair of murderous eyes.
Master Yuan.
In a flash, the sword was at his chest.
With the sect’s protective formation at full power, Li Zhaoye was like an insect caught in a spider’s web—even breaking his bones wouldn’t free him.
"Shhk!"
The sword pierced clean through his chest.
Too easily.
Master Yuan frowned.
The sensation… wasn’t right.
The "Li Zhaoye" impaled by his sword showed no pain. When Master Yuan withdrew his blade, no blood followed.
His vision blurred slightly.
Upon closer inspection, he realized—it wasn’t a person at all, but a wooden puppet.
A soft laugh drifted to his ears.
"Were you waiting for me?" someone asked.
Master Yuan’s heart lurched. He swiftly raised his sword to guard.
"Clang!"
Sealing threads clashed against steel. Master Yuan’s face flushed as his qi churned.
Not daring to hesitate, he retreated into the protective formation.
"The Old Man liked using wooden puppets to stand in for himself," Li Zhaoye said leisurely. "Did he never teach you that trick?"
Master Yuan didn’t answer, reappearing from another angle.
A sword light flashed—"Swish!"
Li Zhaoye sidestepped.
Master Yuan vanished into the formation, only to strike again from another direction.
"Swish—swish—swish—"
Li Zhaoye grinned. "Keep this up, and I’ll unravel your formation."
He leaped back.
"Trying to run?"
Master Yuan manipulated the formation—chasing, twisting.
"Crash—boom—"
Li Zhaoye failed to catch Master Yuan, but his ears were met with an earth-shaking explosion.
In the blink of Master Yuan’s stunned hesitation, the entire Hall of Heart’s Inquiry collapsed.
He barely managed to dart into the formation, narrowly avoiding a rain of broken beams.
A mouthful of dust, however, was unavoidable.
Li Zhaoye’s laughter faded into the distance: "You’re the one who tore it down!"
The tips of the grass trembled faintly.
Li Zhaoye’s figure flickered past and landed on the steps of the Zhaoye Pavilion.
He raised his hand and pushed the door open.
"Creak—"
The wooden doors swung open beneath his palm.
Crossing the threshold, the stale scent of disuse greeted him. Though the wooden puppets had kept the place spotless, everything felt off.
The spot where his sword had rested had clearly been disturbed.
In a flash, he picked up his sword journal.
Flipping through it casually:
["Strike when least expected, seize the moment—successfully bound by oath!"]
["She’s my wife now!"]
A few pages later:
["Got a wife."] ["Have a wife."]
["Wife wife wife wife wife…"]
Li Zhaoye winced.
Now he understood why that guy had grown so bold.
"Where’s your brain?" He poked his own forehead with a sealing thread. "What kind of nonsense is this?"
Utterly embarrassing.
Tossing it aside, his gaze shifted.
His eyes landed on the window frame.
A tiny splinter jutted from the wood, its tip stained with a dried speck of blood.
His own skin was too tough to be pricked by something so small.
It had to be her.
Thinking he was dead, distracted, she’d nicked herself.
"Honestly." He narrowed his eyes. "Can’t even last a moment without me."
Leaving the pavilion, he casually dismantled it.
"Boom!"
Dust billowed as sealing threads reeled back, depositing sturdy beams and planks into his spatial pouch.
He strode away from the ruins, heading for the Radiant Pavilion.
A figure sat on the threshold.
Li Zhaoye paused at the foot of the steps, locking eyes with him.
"Ai—" Master Qingxu sighed. "So Yuan didn’t leave a single scratch on you?"
Li Zhaoye replied, "He values his life."
Master Qingxu pushed himself up slowly. "Guess the pressure’s all on me now."
Li Zhaoye: "You don’t have to."
"Oh, but I do." Master Qingxu smiled. "Without me, you’d be bored."
Li Zhaoye smirked in return.
He ascended the steps.
Passing Master Qingxu, they entered the pavilion side by side.
Neither made a move.
Master Qingxu glanced around. "Luo Luo’s place has more life than yours. Even I’d hate to wreck it."
Li Zhaoye drawled, "Then don’t."
Master Qingxu pointed. "See? Two tables, three chairs, the wardrobe, those pearwood stools she loves—pack them all."
Li Zhaoye stored each item away, as if they were a father and son preparing Luo Luo’s belongings.
Master Qingxu handed him more. "Take the brush holder, the sword case, the teapot and cups. Leave the inkstone—I made it. She’d be upset seeing it."
He tossed the inkstone out the window.
"The sword journal!" Master Qingxu plucked Luo Luo’s neatly hung notebook from the wall. "Look how carefully she wrote—each stroke clearer year by year. Unlike your scribbles!"
Li Zhaoye tucked both journals together.
"Take the quilts, all of them!" Master Qingxu muttered. "She clings to old things. These have been pilled for ages!"
"The daybed—haul the whole thing. And the windowsill. This sandalwood’s top-grade; reassemble it wherever you go."
One directed, the other packed.
Swift and seamless.
When done, the pavilion stood barren.
"Ai…" Master Qingxu waved a hand, exhaling like a weary father. "Go on, all of you."
The moment they stepped outside—
Their blades clashed midair.
Eyes met—Master Qingxu’s gaze mirrored that day on the shore.
Li Zhaoye: "Tch."
In a flash, their swords collided hundreds of times.
"Why not use your power as a Divine Sovereign?"
"Wasting it on you?"
"Or is it… inconvenient?" Master Qingxu grinned. "Something’s getting harder to suppress, isn’t it?"
Li Zhaoye’s eyes narrowed.
Figures streaked toward them from the horizon.
"I’d hate interruptions." Master Qingxu sighed. "I’ve spent days pondering how to block that strike of yours."
Suddenly, he leapt back.
Ten paces away, he spread his arms.
"Come!" he challenged. "Li Zhaoye! I’ll give you one chance to kill me—show me that sword technique at full strength!"
Li Zhaoye glanced at the approaching figures.
With Master Yuan’s group moments away, only one move remained.
Li Zhaoye smiled. "Fine."
"Shing—"
His blade flashed crimson, staining the sky like twilight.
The sword shot forth—a rainbow piercing straight for Master Qingxu’s heart.
Master Qingxu’s pupils shrank. No escape.
This technique could slay a Nascent Soul cultivator as a Golden Core. Now, wielded by a Divine Sovereign?
A breath from death—
"Shing!"
Hairs stood on end as robes whipped backward.
In that instant, the discarded inkstone between them melted into an inky pool—a trap laid earlier.
Li Zhaoye, committed to his strike, plunged in before he could blink.
No time to teleport.
Gone.
"Ah…" Master Qingxu smiled faintly. "So eager to kill me? How hurtful. Now you’ll join Lingxue—see how she vanished?"
How might a Divine Sovereign crawl back from the Sealed God Palace?
How… entertaining.
He beckoned. The pool solidified into an inkstone in his palm.
Shaking his head in mock regret—
His fingers curled.
Then—
A gust aimed for his treasure.
"Hiss!"
Timed perfectly—his guard at its lowest.
Instinctively, he clenched the inkstone.
At the same moment—a pinprick at his nape.
Master Qingxu’s eyes sharpened. A feint!
Whirling, he saw a sealing thread reeling in a crimson spider like a kite.
Li Zhaoye perched atop the pavilion. With a tug, he vanished into shadow.
Master Qingxu touched his neck. A bead of blood.
"What a vicious brat!"
Everything happened too quickly. It wasn’t until this moment that it dawned on him—Li Zhaoye had long noticed something amiss with the ink box. He simply played along, pretending to fall for the trap while secretly replacing himself with a wooden puppet, which plunged into the ink pool in his stead. His real body had slipped away, hiding atop the pavilion where Master Qingxu’s cursory spiritual scan couldn’t reach.
If he had launched a direct ambush, Master Qingxu would’ve sensed it immediately. So instead, Li Zhaoye dangled a spider down as a distraction, striking from an unexpected angle—successfully biting Master Qingxu.
“The Phantom Maiden… sigh… who knows which memory she stole this time?”
Rubbing the back of his head, Master Qingxu wore an utterly defeated expression.
“Please, not the one where I was bathing!”
