The atrocities committed by the Red Sect in West Lumine and Dongyue soon spread across the Nine Provinces. The people were gripped by panic. The Red Sect’s demonic cultivators wielded terrifying power and could slaughter entire cities with a laugh. The people could only place their hope in the Daoist sects.
As the leading Daoist sect in the realm, Loftcloud Sect shouldered this responsibility without hesitation. That very day, they issued a summons to sects great and small, calling on cultivators to go to the cities and towns, calm the people and protect them.
Of the ten thousand inner and outer disciples of Conundrum Sect, only around a thousand remained behind to guard the sect. The rest were assigned by the peak lords to cities across the Nine Provinces.
Li Lanxiu was assigned to Dreamsaint City in Dongyue, one of the most prosperous cities in the country. He would be stationed there alongside disciples of Loftcloud Sect, Streamcloud Sect and Jademaiden Sect.
Naturally, Chu Yue stayed with him. Li Yanbi couldn’t bear to let him face danger alone.
Given the seriousness of the matter, the two of them took the sect’s flying boat and arrived in Dreamsaint City a few days later.
Ever since word of the massacres reached Dreamsaint City, the city had fallen into a state of panic. Towns not far away held family and friends of its residents, and now they had all perished overnight. Blood hung heavy in the air. The water flowing in from those towns ran red. It was not hard to imagine the horrors within.
Rain and howling winds tore through the city. Shops on both sides of the long street had shut their windows and doors. The few that remained open had red lanterns swinging forlornly in the storm.
Soldiers in cloaks patrolled in dark swarms. They seized any passersby and interrogated them harshly. The pedestrians went pale with fright and the soldiers themselves were like startled birds.
A few cultivators sat inside one tea house that had stayed open.
The man at the head of the table was tall and composed. He wore white robes like snow, with purple trimming at his sleeves. A violet sword rested on his back. The people beside him wore the same uniform. They were all disciples of Loftcloud Sect.
The man’s expression was cold and stern. He said, “Goldmoon City was the first to fall to the Red Sect. We went to investigate. The houses were all empty, and the hills were covered in bones. It was hell on earth.”
Seated across from him was a young man. Compared to the Loftcloud disciples, this youth’s attire was resplendent. He wore brocade robes and a white jade coronet. His features were striking and handsome. There was a trace of pride between his brows.
He let out a light scoff and sneered. "Those beasts from the Red Sect only dare to bully ordinary people. If they had run into us from Streamcloud Sect, they wouldn’t have made it back alive.”
“My friend Jiang Zhuo, you’re quite right.” The young man pressed a hand onto the shoulder of the Loftcloud Sect disciple beside him.
That disciple had wanted to say that Loftcloud Sect was the number one sect in the world, and that Streamcloud Sect ranked second at best, but he was stopped before he could speak.
Jiang Zhuo sat up and looked toward the door. “Why hasn’t Li-daoxiong returned yet?”
The young man smiled as he replied, “Just wait a bit longer, my friend. My shidi has a kind heart. Perhaps he ran into a poor stranger and got held up.”
Jiang Zhuo stood and walked to the doorway. The two servants behind him lifted his chair and brought it to the door. He sat down leisurely and watched the storm and the people outside.
A disciple beside the young man felt indignant and sent a voice transmission. “Han-shixiong, who is he?”
“Jiang Zhuo.” Han Qian chuckled softly. Seeing the disciple still confused, he added, “Four Seas Commerce Guild, the Jiang family.”
The Four Seas Commerce Guild was famous throughout the land. The disciple suddenly understood and exclaimed in shock, “He’s from the Jiang family of the Four Seas Commerce Guild?”
Han Qian gave a meaningful smile and looked toward Jiang Zhuo. “More than that. He’s the young master of the Jiang family.”
“No wonder Shixiong is giving way to him.” The disciple nodded in realization, then asked curiously, “What’s his relationship with Li-shidi?”
Han Qian pondered aloud. “I’m not sure either. I’ve only heard Li-shidi mention that Jiang Zhuo admires his swordsmanship. But in my opinion…that isn’t quite it.”
“Why do you say that, Shixiong?”
“The swordsmanship of the Li lineage is renowned. The most famous swordsmanship belongs to the Peak Lord Li from Conundrum Sect. Li-shidi’s swordsmanship is nowhere near the level of his uncle’s. If Jiang Zhuo truly admired swordsmanship, why not admire Peak Lord Li? Clearly, the wine is not what the drunkard truly desires…”
The disciple nodded thoughtfully. “He cares about Li-shidi.”
Han Qian patted his shoulder, clearly agreeing with him.
The storm grew heavier. The patter of rain echoed across heaven and earth. The sky turned a dull grey with no sign of sunlight. After a long while, a young man emerged from the rain. He had proper features, and though he walked slowly into the teahouse, not a drop of rain touched his clothes.
Jiang Zhuo smiled when he saw him and stepped forward. "Xuanzhen-daoyou, long time no see."
Li Xuanzhen nodded solemnly. "So it’s my friend Jiang Zhuo. Streamcloud Sect appointed you here to guard Dreamsaint City. Looks like fate brought us together.”
“My sect didn’t send me. I came to Dreamsaint City on my own.”
Jiang Zhuo paused as he said this. A shadow of anger darkened his expression.
"You came here because of Xuanzhen?" Han Qian asked casually.
Li Xuanzhen gave a faint smile and looked at Jiang Zhuo. "You came for me?"
Jiang Zhuo shook his head and walked deeper into the teahouse to sit down. "No."
Li Xuanzhen seemed to have expected it. His expression showed a trace of disgust.
Jiang Zhuo fell silent for a moment, then spoke with clear displeasure. "You must have heard of my cousin Jiang Jiusi. Just to see a man’s true face, he abandoned loyalty and honor and got expelled from the sect by our master.”
Han Qian nodded. The story had spread like wildfire—everyone knew. “Wasn’t the man called Li Lanxiu? Always wearing a ghost mask.”
"My cousin didn’t just abandon loyalty and honor for him.” Jiang Zhuo paused. His fists clenched tight and his expression turned cold. “He knelt on Violetstage Peak for three days and nights, just to be accepted as a disciple of Li Yanbi. All so he could get closer to Li Lanxiu.”
Han Qian hadn’t heard that part before. Curious, he asked, “Did Peak Lord Li accept him as a disciple?”
Jiang Zhuo nodded reluctantly. He stared out the door, his gaze cold and shadowed. “My cousin was always proud and aloof. It’s hard to believe Li Lanxiu could drag him down to such a state, turning him into the shame of the Jiang family. I came here not only to guard Dreamsaint City, but also to see for myself what kind of person he is, that could drive my cousin to such madness.”
“I heard that…Jiang Jiusi did it willingly, just to catch a glimpse of Li Lanxiu’s true face,” Han Qian said gently, trying to reason with him.
Jiang Zhuo looked at him and said coldly, word by word, “My cousin has seen countless beauties. Why go mad over him alone? It must be that he played coy on purpose, always hiding halfway behind his lute, keeping my cousin hooked. My cousin has always loved beauty. It would make sense for Li Lanxiu to deceive him.”
Li Xuanzhen, who hadn’t spoken all this time, gave a light cough and slowly sat down. “So you’re talking about Li Lanxiu. Peak Lord Li is my uncle. You could say Lanxiu and I go way back.”
“Oh? You’ve met him?” Jiang Zhuo asked.
Li Xuanzhen replied with a faint, ironic smile. “I saw him once as a child. My clan sent me to Violetstage Peak, hoping I could train under Peak Lord Li. Lanxiu bullied me every day. In the dead of winter, he wouldn’t let me burn coal. He stripped my clothes, soaked my bedding and tortured me however he could.”
Han Qian frowned and patted his arm to comfort him. “To think a noble heir could be so vicious. You’ve suffered, Shidi.”
Jiang Zhuo gave a slight nod. The coldness in his eyes deepened.
Li Xuanzhen paused. He ran his fingers over a patch of skin beneath his jaw and gave a cold laugh. “Later, he pushed me too far. I pressed a red-hot coal to this spot and burned him. He pissed his pants on the spot and ever since, whenever he saw me, he ran like a rat from a cat.”
“So… that’s why you came to Loftcloud Sect.” Han Qian quickly figured it out. For Li Lanxiu to act with such arrogance, he must have had a pampering father. After something like that, how could the father tolerate Li Xuanzhen?
Li Xuanzhen nodded and looked at Jiang Zhuo. “He’s worn a mask since he was young. Not to tease your cousin, but because his face is hideous. He can’t let others see it.”
Jiang Zhuo let out a sharp laugh and said mockingly, “Ugly face, wicked heart. At least he’s consistent inside and out.”
Han Qian rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Jiang Jiusi isn’t a fool. Did Li Lanxiu really wear a mask just because he’s ugly?”
“Would I lie to you?”
Li Xuanzhen looked serious. He spoke plainly and truthfully. “My uncle, Li Yanbi, told me himself. Lanxiu’s face was ruined by a fire. That’s why he started wearing the mask. My uncle is the most upright and honorable man in the world. Would he lie to me?”
Han Qian gave a bitter smile and looked at Jiang Zhuo. “So he really is the same inside and out. Jiang Jiusi is the one I pity.”
A hint of ruthless nobility flickered in Jiang Zhuo’s eyes.
If Li Lanxiu had been a beauty, then Jiang Jiusi giving everything just to see his true face might have been remembered as a romantic tale.
But if he truly was as disfigured as Li Xuanzhen claimed, then wasn’t Jiang Jiusi just a fool?
As they spoke, a dark crowd of people ran toward them from the pouring rain. Few shops along the street were open, and the group dashed through the downpour straight to the teahouse.
There were about twenty or thirty of them, all wearing patched clothes. The men had no rain cloaks and looked like drowned rats. Only the women holding children had a few rain capes draped over them. As soon as they entered, the women timidly hid behind their men, peeking out cautiously with wide eyes.
They looked like villagers from nearby who had fled to the city. The Red Sect had terrified the people of Dongyue. The city still had soldiers guarding it, but the countryside had nothing.
The farmers eyed the cultivators warily and kept their distance, whispering among themselves.
With the cultivators’ sharp hearing, not a single word escaped them.
“These cultivators always talk big about how they care for the world. But when real trouble comes, they all run and hide.”
“My whole family is dead. If I hadn’t been away that day, I’d be dead too. Where were they then?”
"Now that things have blown up, they finally show up, talking about comforting the people. Who would believe in that?”
Han Qian, Li Xuanzhen and the others all developed unpleasant expressions at these words. They had always been exalted, the pride of their sects. When had they ever been questioned like this?
Jiang Zhuo signaled a servant to bring over a pot of hot tea. He spoke calmly. “The Red Sect moves like ghosts, leaving no trace. It’s not that we’ve stood by and done nothing. If we run into them, we will act.”
The farmers turned pale as they realized the cultivators had heard every word.
The man who had lost his whole family stopped holding back. He stepped forward and jabbed a finger at Jiang Zhuo’s face. “Aren’t you masters of the immortal arts? If you can’t even protect the peace of one village, what Dao are you cultivating?”
Han Qian sensed that things were going south and quickly stood up to calm them down. “Elders and villagers, we came here to protect your safety. Please believe us. We will do our utmost to defend Dreamsaint City.”
The farmers had already been roused to fury and stared at them with indignation. “Why didn’t you show up earlier? You wait until everyone’s dead before giving us this nonsense?”
“You sit above us all day long and talk big about the demonic sect. Did anyone lift a hand when they came to slaughter the cities? They killed hundreds of thousands. Did you only just find out?!”
“We’ve worked ourselves to the bone our whole lives. Don’t you eat the rice we grow? Don’t you wear the clothes we weave? Your lives are precious but ours are worthless?”
“What kind of cultivators are you? Storytellers say you carry the world in your hearts. Have you ever treated a commoner like a person?”
In the pouring rain, windows and door-cracks around the street filled with onlookers. The city folk watched in secret as the cultivators stood speechless under the scolding, sighing in their hearts.
Those cultivators were being cursed out like stray dogs by ordinary mortals. Not a trace of divine bearing could be seen. Who would dare entrust their lives to them?
Jiang Zhuo, noble heir of the Jiang family, had never suffered such humiliation. His handsome jaw hung open, speechless.
Han Qian and Li Xuanzhen looked just as embarrassed. They couldn’t even offer a rebuttal.
The farmers, seeing their silence, only grew more furious and nearly stormed up to the table to curse them to their faces.
Just as the group was about to flee to another spot, two figures dropped soundlessly down to the teahouse entrance.
One was in crimson, slender and tall, a grotesque ghost mask covering his face. He leapt lightly down from his Coldiron Fan and stepped into the teahouse.
A black-clad youth followed behind him. A narrow blade hung at his waist. His expression was cold and indifferent.
The farmers caught sight of Li Lanxiu and nearly fainted from fear. They clutched their wives and children close. In folk tales, anyone wearing a ghost mask was always a villain. The boy behind him didn’t look like a cultivator either, calling to mind the rumors of the demonic Red Sect.
The people in the teahouse finally breathed a sigh of relief, but then they saw the mask on Li Lanxiu’s face. Jiang Zhuo clenched his fists and lowered his eyes, studying him quietly.
Li Xuanzhen watched with amusement, waiting for the moment Li Lanxiu would burst into tears out of fear.
Li Lanxiu held a cold, gleaming fan in his hand and walked toward the huddled farmers. The group trembled, too scared to lift their heads.
He sat on a nearby chair, pulled out a bright red spiritual fruit and handed it to a child nearby. “You’re afraid of me but not of them. Isn’t that exactly why we exist?”
Now it was the others’ turn to fall silent. The reason the villagers had dared to criticize the Daoist sect disciples was precisely because they came from righteous orthodox sects and wouldn’t kill recklessly. That was why the villagers had dared to vent their anger on them.
If it had been the Red Sect, no one would have dared make a sound.
The child ignored his mother’s protests and grabbed the spirit fruit, munching on it happily with loud crunches.
The storm howled and forced open the tightly shut windows. Rain battered the walls with a loud roar. The heavy atmosphere felt damp and oppressive.
Li Lanxiu stood and walked to the doorway. He took out the Blueword Brush, dipped it deep in spiritual power and swept it through the air with a flourish. His strokes danced like a swimming dragon.
“Still the storm.” As the final stroke of the word “storm” fell in midair, the raging wind and downpour came to an abrupt halt. The rain vanished from the sky as if erased.
The wind, just moments ago slamming windows and battering doors, disappeared as if frozen in time, leaving only the lingering chill of a dissipated gale.
He turned around with the brush in hand. The farmers stared, dumbstruck. Wasn’t this exactly what a deity was supposed to look like?
Of course, they didn’t know this miracle came at the cost of rapidly burning through spiritual energy for a brief moment of divine display.
Li Lanxiu put away the brush and looked at them calmly. “Don’t worry. With us here, nothing will happen to you.”
Chu Yue stood behind him, arms folded, smiling as he watched him.
The townsfolk peeking out from all directions were equally stunned by the divine display. A sense of relief spread through their hearts—this was the kind of immortal who could truly save the people of the city.
Jiang Zhuo saw how effortlessly Li Lanxiu had diffused the earlier tension. His expression turned sour as he let out a cold snort.
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