Chapter 28

Chapter 28

The mist in the mountains was thick, and even at dawn, everything remained shrouded in fog. After the battle, the people of Mountain Wu swiftly cleaned up the aftermath. Within hundreds of miles, only the howling wind and trembling pines remained, quickly washing away the scent of blood.

Lu Yuran put away the Four Directions Mirror and walked into the old sect ruins occupied by the so-called "mountain deity" alongside Shang Huai.

The sect was nestled deep within the forest, beside a natural spring. The water and trees were serene, but the century-old entrance stones had been eroded by time, leaving them pitted and scarred. Fallen flowers and dead leaves accumulated over the years, forming a black grime covered with frosty spider webs.

Shang Huai shook his head as he stepped on the moss-covered steps: "They should really let the mountain folk see this. They worship such vile creatures."

Lu Yuran looked at the entrance. Originally, there were words inscribed on it, but they had been worn down by an attack, leaving only half visible. One had to stop and examine closely to discern the original characters.

He said: "Xia."

Shang Huai pondered: "The name of the sect they occupy has the character 'xia'?"

Lu Yuran, focused on investigating the Tanggu Plan, had no interest in the disputes between Imperial Court and others from a century ago. After a brief glance, he continued walking through the vast ruins of the sect. According to villagers, a hundred years ago, there was not just a mountain but also a vast lake here. This sect, nestled among the mountains and overlooking the sea, was not extensive, covering only three small peaks, each with its own unique layout.

Soon, Mu Yi approached Lu Yuran and reported: "Young Master, we've tallied the numbers. There are three Ninth Realms and over ten Eighth Realms in the mountains. However, apart from the one who activated the eighth sense, the other two were artificially boosted using drugs, making their foundations unstable and weak."

This time, the team led directly by Lu Yuran consisted of exceptionally talented individuals with formidable combat skills. Even against the fanatical warriors of the other families, they held their ground. Facing these weakened enemies, even a small group could control the situation within a short hour.

Mu Yi's injured arm was now wrapped in spiritual energy, regenerating. He handed over a stack of documents: "These are what we found inside, along with some books from the library. My subordinates have moved them into the storage tokens intact."

Lu Yuran casually glanced through the papers without showing any signs of disappointment or satisfaction. Instead, Shang Huai spoke up: "We should have expected this; it's not our first encounter with them. Last time, we managed to capture a live one, which made us think this was their main base. But considering Imperial Court's nature of constantly digging new holes, they wouldn't put all their eggs in one basket."

"Wen Hean also mentioned several locations she remembered."

"And we have another live one this time, a Ninth Realm who activated the eighth sense." Shang Huai raised an eyebrow, his tone rising: "Did you notice? This one wanted to survive and escape, a first for us."

"I'll send word to my father when we return. Those who want to live will show more emotion than those who seek death, making it easier to extract information."

With that, he subtly signaled Lu Yuran, whispering: "Once this is settled, it will be easier to explain to the elders during their prayers."

However, hiding it from the family head might be impossible.

Lu Yuran said nothing, his voice cold: "The commotion here won't go unnoticed by Imperial Court. We'll face more open conflicts. Be prepared for potential issues with the Drowning Sea Observatory."

Mu Yi and Shang Huai nodded, their smiles fading.

Lu Yuran turned and started walking down the mountain. Shang Huai asked: "Where are we going now?"

"To give instructions," Lu Yuran's tall figure blended into the misty mountains, his voice distant: "Tell Luo Qingshan not to come here. Have him head to the inn instead."

The inn where Imperial Court resided was only a few hundred miles from the outer island. The atmosphere was tense, and Jiang Zhao had been awakened in the middle of the night. Bad news kept pouring in.

Across from him sat a pale, frail puppet master, coughing blood and struggling for breath. Jiang Zhao casually threw a jade token onto the table and asked: "Done coughing? Can you answer properly now?"

The puppet masters standing nearby immediately showed anger, some clenching their fists, but none dared speak out. The most severely injured young man, sitting in a chair, lifted his head, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath to calm his chaotic spiritual energy before meeting Jiang Zhao's gaze, his voice weak: "I severed all the puppet threads below the Eighth Realm. No survivors."

"What about the Ninth Realms?" Jiang Zhao approached, his eyes darkening: "I'm asking about the entire outer island."

"They're severed too," the puppet master swallowed, saying: "Because they died, I suffered severe backlash. Controlling three Ninth Realms, even if they volunteered, exceeded my limits."

The events of this morning had surpassed everyone's expectations. Now, it seemed they had narrowly escaped disaster.

The sudden warning from the Probe Ruins Mirror prompted Jiang Zhao to temporarily redeploy some elites from the outer island, including the Xu family puppet masters. Just a day later, this happened.

"Are the villagers in the mountains safe?" Jiang Zhao asked his attendant.

The attendant nodded, confirming: "Young Master, rest assured. Mountain Wu set up barriers, and they are all safe."

Hearing this, Jiang Zhao closed his eyes, lost in thought.

As long as the plan wasn't compromised, the loss of a few Ninth Realms, including one with the eighth sense, was acceptable.

But why did Mountain Wu discover the outer island so quickly after Lu Yuran arrived in Luozhou? Was it due to the leaks after the failed assassination, or was someone involved in the Tanggu Plan helping him?

Jiang Zhao thought of Wen Hean again.

He didn't believe Lu Yuran would help Wen Hean. People like them prioritize their own interests over emotions. Even if they felt something, it couldn't compare to their ambitions. Coldly analyzing situations, they could easily discard even close companions.

They knew how to cut their losses.

Lu Yuran had watched Wen Hean find new love years ago, understanding that their relationship was doomed, dragging it out would only hinder his path to power.

Could he suddenly decide to save her now, after three years?

Jiang Zhao didn't believe it.

His logic was clear, but his emotions were uncontrollable.

He couldn't help wondering—what if it were true?

There was no time to wait.

What mattered now was finding Wen Hean. That was why he had moved the Xu family members from the outer island.

Jiang Zhao sighed, gesturing for the attendant to bring in a physician to treat Xu Yuansi, who struggled to stand.

The physician, brought from Imperial Court, understood the situation at a glance. He bowed and placed his medical kit on the ground, examining Xu Yuansi and soon concluded: "Young Master Xu's condition is due to the severance of puppet threads, causing severe backlash and chaotic spiritual energy. I'll prescribe medicine; with two days of rest, he'll recover."

"One day." Jiang Zhao interrupted him. Dressed in a loose-fitting moon-white robe, the candlelight cast a golden glow upon his jade-like complexion, making him appear warm and graceful. However, his words sent chills down everyone's spines like those of a grim reaper. He looked at Xu Yuansi with his pale eyes. "I give you one day to find the best physician and use the best medicine."

"Tomorrow at this time." He took out a delicate square mirror from his sleeve, with Wen Hean's name deeply engraved in the lower right corner—the only thing he had left from that tumultuous farce. "Show your family's expertise, set up an array, and find her."

The veins on the foreheads of the Xu family members bulged.

How dare he!

One of them couldn't hold back and spoke out, "Young Master Sixth, you've seen our young master's condition—it's—"

Jiang Zhao's gaze swept lightly over him.

"Silence."

Xu Yuansi cut off his subordinate's words. His lips were pale, and he felt as if he was just a step away from death. He suppressed his trembling hands and replied to Jiang Zhao, "Let me be clear: although setting up a puppet array is a Xu family specialty, using just a square mirror can only pinpoint a rough location."

He bent over and coughed violently, then swallowed the blood in his mouth before continuing, "I can only give you a general area, within two or three cities."

Jiang Zhao stared at him, his tone firm and unyielding. "One city."

They stared at each other, but Jiang Zhao didn't budge. His voice dropped even lower. "Young Master Xu, I'm not asking for your opinion."

This was blatant intimidation, an order that had to be obeyed, a subordinate bowing to a superior.

It seemed like mockery.

Xu Yuansi, never thought you'd have this day, did you?

After a moment, Xu Yuansi turned his head, gritted his teeth, and said hoarsely, "I'll try my best."

Jiang Zhao straightened up, staring at the square mirror for a long time. His slender fingers slowly clenched, thinking of Wen Hean, feeling a complex mix of emotions, unsure how to act. He knew he had to find her quickly, but when that day came, he wasn't sure how to face her.

Suppressing these thoughts, he called the silver-armored guards outside and said, "Return to the outer island, don't enter that old mountain gate again, and proceed with the original plan. I don't want to hear any unexpected news."

The silver-armored guards saluted and acknowledged the order.

Xu Yuansi silently watched this scene, almost choking on a mouthful of blood. Not only Wen Hean had misjudged him; anyone who had ever underestimated Jiang Zhao had been wrong.

Who would have thought he could achieve such prowess?

His current position in the Imperial Court might only be second to Jiang Wushuang.

I wonder if Wen Hean can avoid this.

Around the gathered inn near Mountain Wu, even footsteps were silent, and the wind dared not be reckless. The elders and officials had waited here all night, sleepless, and finally, the person who could make decisions had returned.

Seeing Lu Yuran return, they all greeted him, "Young Master."

Lu Yuran didn't stop walking. Having just finished a task, his fierce aura hadn't fully dissipated, now pressing equally on everyone, making them uneasy. The elders held back their questions, temporarily suppressing their concerns.

"Continue."

Lu Yuran stood by the desk, holding a stack of yellowed papers, his silver crown gleaming like snow, his demeanor pure and noble. He glanced at the officials who had been vocal in the square mirror but now remained silent, waiting for him to speak. "What has the Imperial Court and the capital done from last night until now?"

Someone quickly responded, "We heard that both the Imperial Court and the capital are actively contacting the Yin Official's main family, but no response yet. Additionally, the lord of Jiaocheng agreed to the conditions of the capital and the Imperial Court. Both sides have taken over Jiaocheng."

"Jiang Wushuang and Wen Liuguang share the same idea as Young Master and have decided to build an observation platform for the drowning sea. The Imperial Court's will be in the south of Jiaocheng, and the capital's in the east. Both sides are now negotiating with the Rare Treasure Pavilion to use the best materials for the platforms to ensure smooth operation later."

The Rare Treasure Pavilion.

Lu Yuran silently repeated the name, recalling the person nearby who had supposedly stayed indoors all day, waiting for their news.

"We also sent someone to contact the Rare Treasure Pavilion. Their young master gave a unified response: if all three observation platforms are to be built with the most durable Flowing String Sand, the reserves in Luozhou and Jiaocheng are insufficient, and supplies need to be brought in from elsewhere, which takes time."

At this point, the elder's beard twitched.

The meaning was clear: regardless of the reserves, the same response was given to all three parties. Whoever wants to finish first must pay a higher price.

Merchants seeking profit, as annoying as ever.

"Young Master, should we send someone else to talk to them? The steward mentioned that Lin Shiyuan will come tonight," an official asked cautiously.

"No need."

Lu Yuran paused and said, "I'll handle this matter."

The elders exchanged glances. Seeing this, Lu Yuran raised his eyes and looked down at them calmly, as if saying, "Is there anything else?"

An elder who had been holding his breath since last night, ready to advise him despite the pressure, was about to step forward but was subtly held back by a steady elder with gray whiskers.

The latter shook his head.

Seeing this, Shang Huai, who had prepared himself for a lengthy lecture, was surprised and found it hard to believe.

The elders dispersed, and Lu Yuran ignored them, heading upstairs to his study.

A while later, Shang Huai knocked on the door and said, "Luo Qingshan is here. He heard you were injured and insists on seeing you."

Lu Yuran leaned by the window, reading through a stack of papers under the late morning light.

These people died quickly and efficiently, and their actions were always interesting.

The papers weren't filled with trivial matters; instead, they detailed meticulously planned strategies with great potential. Sometimes, he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, not because of anything else, but because the tactics described were ones he had already used against him.

There was no mention of future plans.

"Let him in." Lu Yuran casually tossed the papers aside.

Luo Qingshan rushed in with a medical kit. He had already learned the general situation from Shang Huai. As soon as he entered, his body bowed politely, but his eyes darted to Lu Yuran's hand wrapped loosely in white silk.

For cultivators, shedding some blood is the most trivial of injuries, but Lu Yuran's current situation was different from usual, and his blood was not like that of ordinary people. Luo Qingshan couldn't help but feel some tension.

Without a word, he picked the lock on the medicine chest and said, "I'll re-bandage your wounds, sir."

"No rush," Lu Yuran suddenly spoke. "I have something to ask you."

Luo Qingshan was chilled by the words "ask me." He dared not be as bold as Shang Huai and held his breath, saying, "I am willing to help clarify any doubts for you, sir."

Lu Yuran stood by the window, facing away from the sunlight. Spots of light fell on his sleeves, like flowing water patterns. At this moment, he lifted the water, revealing the slender bones of his wrist and the clear veins and muscles beneath.

Luo Qingshan looked closely and was speechless.

The Snow-Inducing Gu planted some time ago remained motionless, without any sign of life.

He hastily used a doctor's white thread to draw out the gu worm, only to find it had turned into a stone, withered and dull, its surface lifeless.

"What does this mean?"

Lu Yuran watched this scene, as if encountering the greatest challenge of his life. He stood still for a moment, feigning composure, his index finger resting on his throbbing eye socket, and asked in a deep voice, "Has it lost its effect?"

Luo Qingshan had never encountered such a situation before. After a moment of silence, he hesitantly replied, "This is the fourth time you've used the Snow-Inducing Gu, sir. Once the gu worm has absorbed all the emotions it can, it loses its vitality..."

It's like a person holding a clay bowl to hold water; the bowl can only hold so much, and any more than that would overflow.

After some hesitation, he thought carefully and felt he must insist for the sake of the Imperial heir's health: "Sir, please forgive my frankness, but if your emotions become too turbulent for the gu worm to handle, have you considered seclusion to subdue your inner demons?"

Lu Yuran stood there, appearing unchanged, even somewhat relaxed. But the corners of his eyes gradually drooped, becoming cold, so cold that Luo Qingshan wanted to apologize for his boldness. Yet, Lu Yuran merely stared at a vase on a tall cabinet, making no move.

Inner demons.

Lu Yuran tapped the table, feeling unusually agitated and restless. Subconsciously, he rubbed the spot where the gu worm had been, thinking of Wen Hean's face, finding it extremely troublesome.

He would rather it be his own inner demons.