The group from Wansheng Palace left with grim expressions.
[Hahaha, well done! I’ve long disliked Lu Ying, Bai Lijue, and their lot!]
[Exactly! They were Qingling Mountain disciples who hogged so many sect resources, yet after losing the sect competition, they just up and left for Wansheng Palace? These ungrateful snakes deserve to be put in their place!]
[Wasn’t it because Qingling Mountain’s competition was unfair? Otherwise, Senior Brother Lu and the others wouldn’t have done this.]
[Ah, I’m not from Qingzhou—I’m from Dizhou. I initially believed the rumors about Qingling Mountain’s unfair competition too… but these past few days have shown that Wen Shuangbai and the others are genuinely stronger than those from Wansheng Palace.]
[Hehe, can’t beat them, so you cry foul, huh?]
A self-proclaimed neutral observer chimed in.
[Still, I think Qingling Mountain went too far. We’re all cultivators of the Xuantian Continent—no need for such pettiness.]
[True. The path of cultivation is about tempering one’s Dao heart. Junior Sister Wen and her group are too narrow-minded—they won’t go far in the long run.]
[Hehe, as long as they go further than you, that’s enough.]
[Did you just crawl out of a latrine without washing your hands? Your words reek of filth.]
As the cultivators bickered, the candlelight flickered out, plunging the Mystic Heaven Mirror’s projection into darkness.
The communal hall was pitch-black, so dark one couldn’t see their own hand in front of their face.
The five major sects sat cross-legged on the floor.
The darkness didn’t hinder their vision, but just as Wen Shuangbai cleared her throat to speak, she noticed the senior brother from Yuxi Valley summoning his lifebound sword.
A soft, pearlescent glow emanated from two pigeon-egg-sized gemstones embedded in the scabbard, devouring the darkness and illuminating the space around them.
Wen Shuangbai’s pupils dilated instinctively.
C-could this be the legendary… Moonveil Gemstones?!
Xie Ziyin, Shen Hefeng, Lu Jiayao, and Li Zhuohua all turned to look in unison.
Even Yin Xuan, who had been nodding off, squinted open a bleary eye at the sudden light.
Perhaps the intensity of Qingling Mountain’s six disciples’ gazes was too much, because the sword cultivator from Yuxi Valley flushed slightly and stammered, “I-I’m afraid of the dark.”
Lu Jiayao blinked. “You’re a sword cultivator, and you’re scared of the dark?”
Yu Qianli: “Yeah… is that weird?”
“??” Wen Shuangbai was stunned. “You’re using Moonveil Gemstones as a lamp?!”
“I-Is that not allowed?” Yu Qianli looked genuinely anxious. “I didn’t know it was forbidden. I just prefer Moonveil’s glow—it’s gentle and not harsh like other gemstones…”
Disciples from the other four major sects: “???”
What kind of nonsense was this? Moonveil Gemstones were renowned for their calming radiance, which could stabilize the mind and ward off inner demons during critical breakthroughs. A single gem was rare and costly—once activated, it lasted only half a month before dissipating.
And this guy was using them as a light source?!
Even Di Qi and Di Yanran, who hailed from the wealthy Di Clan, were taken aback.
The Di family never lacked money, but even they weren’t extravagant enough to use Moonveil Gemstones as lamps.
They’d heard rumors that Yuxi Valley, as a sect of demonic cultivators, was well-off—but this level of opulence was beyond imagination.
Shen Hefeng hugged his precious banner and muttered, “My treasure, you’re only worth 100,000, while his scabbard alone is worth a million…”
Wen Shuangbai: “…Did I say anything?”
Her Firefeather Whip had been crafted from sect materials—costing her nothing. Her brush was worth 400 coins.
Xie Ziyin, who used his alchemy cauldron to brew potions, raise chickens, and even fatten pigs, coldly cut off Yu Qianli’s unintentional flex: “Focus on the matter at hand.”
If this continued, his already fraying patience would vanish entirely.
Yu Qianli hastily wrapped up his wealth-flaunting speech: “Sorry, sorry.”
He fell silent, but his gaze lingered on Wen Shuangbai, brimming with unmistakable delight.
Yu Qianli was obsessed with collecting gemstones but had long lamented the lack of fellow enthusiasts.
This Junior Sister Wen had recognized Moonveil Gemstones at a glance—how could he not be overjoyed?
She must be a fellow connoisseur, a kindred spirit!
Bathed in the sacred glow of the Moonveil Gemstones, Wen Shuangbai steadied her emotions and asked, “Has anyone uncovered any clues these past few days?”
Yu Xiaoli was the first to respond, scratching her head sheepishly. “We didn’t find anything, honestly.”
No one objected—after all, they were basking in the Yuxi Valley’s borrowed light.
The plump monk from the Divine Evolution Temple chuckled. “Amitabha. We, too, have found nothing.”
The three top sects—Purpleflame Realm, Tianluo Witchcraft, and Divine Evolution Temple—had been locked in rivalry for centuries, their conflicts never-ending.
A disciple from Tianluo Witchcraft sneered. “If you’ve found nothing, why are you even here?”
The monk remained unruffled. “We are grateful for the generous invitation from our hosts at Qingling Mountain. This humble monk is deeply touched.”
Di Qi smiled gently. “Perhaps the venerable monks are withholding information, choosing to remain modest.”
The monk shook his head. “Amitabha, no such thing. The Divine Evolution Temple is but a shadow of its former self. These days, we merely chant sutras and raise fish. We apologize for our inadequacy.”
Tianluo Witchcraft and Purpleflame Realm had no retort for the Divine Evolution Temple’s blatant indifference.
They couldn’t fathom why Qingling Mountain had invited the temple—a fallen sect—when they could have targeted both the temple and Wansheng Palace to secure third place.
In their eyes, Purpleflame Realm and Tianluo Witchcraft were indisputably the top two sects of the seven regions, while the other five could only squabble for third.
With Qianyuan Sect already eliminated, Yuxi Valley being all wealth and no skill, and Qingling Mountain poised to knock out both Divine Evolution Temple and Wansheng Palace, wasn’t third place within reach?
Wen Shuangbai observed the verbal sparring with a faint smile. Once the three sects fell silent, she turned to the remaining two. “And you?”
Qingling Mountain held critical clues, but Tianluo Witchcraft, though resentful of Wen Shuangbai’s authoritative tone, prioritized practicality. “We’ve been unable to harm the spectral entities in the village,” one of them admitted.
Wen Shuangbai frowned.
Her “Fortune Squad” had adhered to a cautious approach, avoiding direct confrontation with the village’s ghosts to avoid detection and disaster.
But Tianluo Witchcraft was different—they specialized in puppet arts, manipulating proxies to act in their stead.
“In other words, in Tianjia Village, the Village Chief and the villagers are immortal,” the Tianluo disciple concluded, then glanced at Di Qi.
Di Qi turned to Di Yanran. “Yanran, you explain.”
Di Yanran nodded. “It’s because of the Yin-Yang Illusion Array.”
Wen Shuangbai raised an eyebrow. “Yin-Yang Illusion Array?”
She had studied countless formations under her master but had never heard of this one.
Di Yanran’s red lips parted. “It’s a forbidden demonic array—rarely known on the Xuantian Continent.”
That explained it.
Wen Shuangbai gestured politely. “Please elaborate, Lady Di.”
Di Yanran was a formation master who had shown exceptional talent in the study of formations since childhood. She was well-versed in all the formation texts of the Xuantian Continent, including demonic arrays.
With a confident and composed smile, she began recounting the origins of the Yin-Yang Theatrical Deception Formation to the group.
"Six hundred years ago, a demonic formation master emerged on the Xuantian Continent. This fiend had a penchant for watching and performing operas, but he found the actors of the mortal world unsatisfactory. Feeling that even his own performances lacked excitement, he created the Yin-Yang Theatrical Deception Formation, tossing ordinary people into the array to toy with them. Inside the formation, everyone must play their assigned roles. If they fail to act accordingly—if their words or deeds deviate even slightly—they will be killed by the authority figure they themselves are portraying. Within the formation, the authority figure is invincible, and only they can inflict harm upon others."
Wen Shuangbai listened attentively while analyzing the implications.
So, in Tian Family Village, the Village Chief was invincible. Only the Village Chief could harm them, while they could neither harm the Village Chief nor each other.
"The most despicable aspect of this fiend’s creation," Di Yanran continued, "was that he set a seven-day time limit for the formation. He told the villagers that if they performed well for seven days, they would be allowed to leave unharmed. But when the seven days ended, just as the people rejoiced at the thought of freedom, he cruelly slaughtered them, savoring their despair. Then, he would bring in a new group of villagers to perform a different play."
Wen Shuangbai: "?"
Damn, what a sick bastard.
That meant even if they completed their tasks, once seven days passed, they would still be devoured by the Village Chief.
No wonder the Purple Flame Realm had proactively sought them out to exchange clues.
Lu Jiayao, who had been plucking a tiny feather from Yin Xuan’s hair, shuddered. "That’s horrifying! Those poor villagers!"
"Indeed," Shen Hefeng murmured darkly. "And now, it’s our turn."
Lu Jiayao blinked in confusion. "Huh? Why?"
Yu Qianli was equally puzzled. "Yeah, why is it our turn?"
Xie Ziyin: "..." A pair of absolute geniuses.
Even Yu Xiaoli couldn’t help but interject, "Senior Brother, you’re so silly—we’re the ones trapped in the Yin-Yang Theatrical Deception Formation now!"
Di Yanran went on, "At the time, this incident caused widespread panic among the people. The Qingling Mountain Sect dispatched numerous disciples and elders to capture the demonic formation master. Not long after, he was executed, and the matter was considered resolved. Since then, the Yin-Yang Theatrical Deception Formation has never reappeared on the Xuantian Continent."
"But now," Di Qi, picking up where his sister left off, turned to Wen Shuangbai, "this formation has emerged in Tian Family Village—five hundred years in the past. What exactly did you find in that Qingling Mountain disciple’s home?"
After exchanging a glance with Xie Ziyin, Wen Shuangbai answered, "Hidden Script."
Di Yanran pressed, "What did you see in the Hidden Script?"
Wen Shuangbai recalled the scenes that had unfolded before him earlier that day.
...
A spirited young man, brimming with confidence, declared to his mother, "Mother! Tomorrow, I’ll set off for Qingling Mountain’s disciple recruitment ceremony! Once I’m accepted, I’ll ask the immortals for some elixirs so you can live a long, healthy life!"
The kind Auntie packed her son’s belongings with care. "Good, good. Be safe on your journey. I’ll be waiting here for your good news."
...
A young man, now wearing the disciple robes of Qingling Mountain, rushed home in terror. "Mother, I—I think I’ve learned something I shouldn’t have. I didn’t know it was the Yin-Yang Theatrical Deception Formation. What should I do…?"
The Auntie didn’t fully grasp the implications of the formation, but after listening patiently, she patted her son’s shoulder. "Child, don’t be afraid. Think of it like a knife—some use it to kill, others to protect. The knife itself isn’t the problem. It’s the person wielding it."
...
The scene shifted. The world was now overrun by malevolent spirits. Though the man’s appearance remained unchanged, his eyes carried the weight of years. He returned to Tian Family Village with a satchel of elixirs and talismans.
Thanks to the old Village Chief’s desperate efforts, most of the villagers were still alive. The man helped bury the fallen Village Chief and took up the mantle of leadership, vowing to protect the villagers.
But as the demonic forces grew stronger, even major sects like Qingling Mountain fell. How could a tiny village like Tian Family Village hold out?
In his despair, the man remembered the formation he had never dared to use—the Yin-Yang Theatrical Deception Formation.
Within it, the authority figure was invincible. He could slaughter any demon or beast that threatened the village, while the creatures could not harm the villagers.
And so, he activated the formation, shielding the village.
Tian Family Village was a hub, surrounded by numerous smaller settlements within an eight-mile radius.
As the demonic plague spread, refugees from these villages flocked to Tian Family Village, begging for sanctuary.
Unable to turn them away, the man expanded the formation, adding countless "temporary laborer" roles to allow the outsiders inside.
Though the formation’s limit was seven days, as the authority figure, he had no intention of killing anyone. Each time the seven days ended, he simply restarted the cycle.
The once-youthful boy, now burdened with the weight of survival, endured cycle after cycle. His youthful vigor faded—his hair turned gray, wrinkles carved deep into his skin, and his back hunched with exhaustion.
Day after day, month after month, through the apocalyptic calamity that befell the Xuantian Continent, Tian Family Village endured. One month, two months, three… until a full year had passed.
But the demons evolved, growing ever stronger, spreading like a plague across the land.
One day, the old man stood before a wall, his face twisted in agony, his eyes dark with something inhuman.
"I don’t feel right," he muttered.
"I want to eat them."
"I want to devour them all!"
