The discovery during the night raid on the scripture pavilion was like lighting a flickering oil lamp in a dark room; though it illuminated a small space, it only made the surrounding shadows appear even more sinister and terrifying. The Spirit Erosion Talisman and the gray-white powder containing the Chaos Qi felt like two cold, massive rocks weighing heavily on the hearts of the three.
Mo Yuan spent the entire night sealing part of the evidence and findings using secret techniques, and through the secret channels of the Zhenxuan Division, he sent them post-haste to Lu Gang at Yujing. The matter involved far too much; it was no longer something the three of them could handle alone. The imperial court and the division needed to be prepared.
Over the next two days, Xianxia Town remained outwardly bustling and noisy, but those with sharp instincts could detect an unusual tension. The number of disciples from the Longhu Mountain Celestial Master Mansion patrolling the town had visibly increased, and investigations had become much stricter, especially regarding suspicious-looking outsiders. The Qingwei Taoist Temple had its main gates bolted shut, declining all pilgrims, and exuded an atmosphere that kept everyone at a distance.
"We have alerted the enemy," Sū Jiǔ'ér said, leaning against the window and watching the stern-faced, blue-robed Taoist priests patrolling back and forth on the street. A cold sneer curled her red lips. "It seems the 'guests' from that night made the masters of the house quite angry, and... quite guilty, too."
Mo Yuan stood in the shadows of the room, his aura restrained like a deep abyss, his sharp eyes flashing with thought from time to time. "They are looking for us while simultaneously stepping up their efforts to erase their tracks. But we cannot remain trapped here forever."
"Are you planning to force your way up the mountain?" Sū Jiǔ'ér raised an eyebrow.
"No," Mo Yuan shook his head. "We need a reasonable excuse to go up the mountain, one they cannot refuse."
Just then, a commotion broke out downstairs in the inn; it sounded like someone was arguing. A hidden guard disguised as a waiter hurried upstairs and whispered a few words into Mo Yuan's ear.
Mo Yuan's expression flickered, and he said to Líng Yúnxiāo and Sū Jiǔ'ér, "The opportunity has arrived. Follow me downstairs."
In the lobby downstairs, several young Taoist priests wearing the same blue robes as those worn by Xuanhuang—though their expressions were even more arrogant—were surrounding the innkeeper, speaking in a firm, aggressive tone.
"Innkeeper, look closely! This is the token of a 'Mountain Patrol Envoy' from the Celestial Master Mansion!" The leader, a fair-skinned priest with sinister-looking eyes, waved a jade tablet engraved with cloud and thunder patterns. "Following the decree of Acting Sect Leader Xuanji, we are to conduct a thorough search of all suspicious persons in town to prevent Evil Spirits from sneaking in and disturbing the Celestial Master's cultivation! List everyone staying in your inn—we are going to inspect them one by one!"
Sweat dripped down the innkeeper's face as he bowed repeatedly. "Gentlemen, my shop is a respectable business. The guests are all good-hearted devotees and merchants; there are absolutely no..."
"Enough nonsense! Do what you're told!" The sinister priest impatiently cut him off. His gaze swept across the lobby and finally landed on Mo Yuan, Sū Jiǔ'ér, and Líng Yúnxiāo, who had just descended the stairs. He paused briefly on the exceptionally poised and charismatic Mo Yuan and Sū Jiǔ'ér, a flicker of suspicion and scrutiny flashing in his eyes.
"You three! Who are you? Where did you come from? Why have you come to Xianxia Town?" He walked straight toward them, accompanied by several disciples, his tone interrogative.
Mo Yuan remained expressionless and did not speak, but Sū Jiǔ'ér stepped forward first. She swayed, blocking Mo Yuan and putting on a perfectly calibrated look of panic and grievance, her voice so soft and delicate it could drip water. "Oh, dear Taoist masters, you've frightened me! We are merchants from Jiangnan passing through this blessed land. We intended to go to the Celestial Master Mansion to burn incense and pray for both prosperous business and peace for our household. This is my young master; he has a cold temperament and dislikes talking. I am his personal maid, and this is the bookkeeper we hired." She gestured toward Líng Yúnxiāo.
The sinister priest was momentarily taken aback by Sū Jiǔ'ér's sudden display of charm. His gaze lingered on her seductive face, and his tone unconsciously softened. "Merchants? Do you have travel permits?"
"Yes, yes, we do!" Sū Jiǔ'ér hurriedly retrieved several pre-prepared counterfeit travel permits and cargo manifests—stamped with the seal of a Jiangnan merchant guild—from her sleeve (though actually from her storage artifact). She handed them over while quietly slipping him a small ingot of silver. Lowering her voice, she added, "Please make things convenient for us, master; my young master prefers quiet and dislikes being disturbed..."
The priest weighed the silver in his hand and looked at the permits. Seeing no obvious flaws, his expression eased. But when his gaze swept over Mo Yuan again, he still felt the man's extraordinary bearing was not that of an ordinary merchant, and his doubts remained.
At that moment, Mo Yuan suddenly stepped forward. He looked at the sinister priest with a calm gaze and asked, "Fellow Daoist, are you a disciple of the Tiangang Institute of Longhu Mountain?"
The priest was startled. The Tiangang Institute was the core body of Longhu Mountain responsible for discipline, mountain patrols, and law enforcement; its status was transcendent, and ordinary pilgrims could never know such details. He became vigilant. "How do you know that?"
Mo Yuan did not answer. Instead, he extended his right hand, palm upward, and his Dao Origin flowed slightly within him. In an instant, a trace of extremely pure, condensed purple lightning flashed across his palm. Though weak, it carried the unique Dao rhythm of thunder that only true core disciples of Longhu Mountain could possess!
"Purple Heaven Divine Thunder?!" The priest's face changed color, and he gasped in disbelief! The disciples behind him also grew pale, their eyes filled with shock and awe as they stared at Mo Yuan!
Purple Heaven Divine Thunder was a profoundly advanced realm of the Five Thunders Orthodoxy Technique of Longhu Mountain. It could not be studied by anyone other than core disciples, and its unique Dao rhythm was even harder to imitate! How could this young man have mastered such a supernatural power?
Mo Yuan withdrew his hand, his tone remaining indifferent. "My name is Mo Yuan. My master is none other than Master Qingwei."
Master Qingwei! The former Chief Elder who sacrificed himself to seal the Chaos!
The sinister priest and his followers were struck by a violent jolt. The arrogance on their faces instantly melted into panic and respect, and they all bowed in unison. "We did not know it was Junior Uncle Master Mo Yuan who had arrived! We were blind and accidentally offended you. Please, Junior Uncle Master, have mercy!"
Mo Yuan’s seniority in Longhu Mountain was extremely high—he was of the same generation as the current Celestial Master Zhang. It was only right for these patrol disciples to address him as Junior Uncle Master.
"It is of no consequence," Mo Yuan waved his hand. "I have returned to the mountain under secret imperial orders and have urgent matters that require a meeting with the Sect Leader. You need not make a scene. Simply lead the way."
"Yes! Yes! We obey!" The priest looked as if he had been granted an amnesty and responded quickly, not daring to have any thoughts of further questioning. With Mo Yuan as their gold-lettered signboard, the identities of Sū Jiǔ'ér and Líng Yúnxiāo were naturally no longer an issue.
A potential conflict had been averted. However, Líng Yúnxiāo noticed that when the priest turned to lead them, a flicker of imperceptible gloom passed through the depths of his eyes. He quietly signaled to a disciple behind him; the disciple understood, hung back a few steps, and then turned to hurry away, heading in the direction of the Qingwei Taoist Temple.
It seemed that news of Mo Yuan's return and their impending arrival at the mountain would soon reach the ears of certain people.
With the guide of a Mountain Patrol Envoy, the group left Xianxia Town without obstruction and stepped onto the blue stone stairs leading to the main peak of Longhu Mountain.
The mountain path wound upward, and clouds and mist began to rise. Ancient trees towered on both sides, with jagged, strange rocks and the occasional sound of clear springs, the cries of cranes, and the calls of apes—it was truly a scene of an immortal realm. The rich spiritual energy of heaven and earth rushed toward them, invigorating their spirits.
However, Líng Yúnxiāo's keen perception captured some discordant "noises" beneath this beautiful, spiritual landscape.
The closer they got to the main peak, the more obvious the vast, pure golden energy field emanating from the mountain became. But beneath this golden radiance, in certain areas—especially near the back mountain—gray-black undercurrents were vaguely surging, like silt at the bottom of a cup of pure water. Although suppressed with great effort, they remained. Moreover, on some seemingly ordinary trees and rocks along the mountain path, he occasionally glimpsed extremely hidden, runic carvings radiating faint, evil fluctuations. They were somewhat similar to the "Spirit Erosion Talisman" found in the scripture pavilion of the Qingwei Taoist Temple, but they were more obscure, and their function seemed geared toward monitoring and transmission.
He informed Mo Yuan of his findings in an extremely low voice.
Mo Yuan's eyes grew cold, and he nodded imperceptibly, transmitting back: "It seems their reach is longer than we imagined. This Longhu Mountain, from foot to summit, is likely under their surveillance."
The leading priest did not seem to notice the small movements behind him. He dutifully led the way, his attitude respectful, though his eyes darted from time to time into the depths of the mist, carrying a trace of unnoticeable nervousness.
A storm was brewing.
Walking up the blue stone stairs and passing through the lingering clouds, the outline of the grand and solemn building complex of the Celestial Master Mansion on Longhu Mountain finally came into view in the distance. The flying eaves and ornate brackets, layer upon layer of halls, radiated the weight and majesty of a thousand-year orthodoxy.
But Líng Yúnxiāo knew that, beneath the veneer of this sacred and untouchable holy land, internal undercurrents were already surging, and danger lay hidden everywhere. Their arrival might be the very stone that breaks this fragile balance.
The true test was only just beginning.