The wind and rain ceased.
The dark clouds pressing down on Dreamsaint City dispersed. At dusk, a sliver of red sunset broke through the horizon, casting a serene golden glow over the wet pavilions and towers.
On the main street, the owner of one shop cautiously pushed open its door. His head peeked out, and he glanced around, then hurried to the next store, knocking on its door. After a whispered conversation through the closed door, that door opened too, and its owner headed to another.
And so the word spread—one person speaking to ten, ten to a hundred. Before long, everyone in Dreamsaint City had heard about the immortal who could command wind and rain.
Li Lanxiu sat in the teahouse, one hand propping his chin as he fell into thought. The original book never mentioned why the Red Sect had massacred the city. Killing was routine for this demonic sect. That Red Sect leader had once slaughtered an entire city just to consecrate his sword.
Chu Yue sat beside him. He lifted the teapot and poured a cup of tea, pushing it toward him.
Across from them, the others wore mixed expressions and silently observed the pair.
Han Qian sent a voice transmission. “Li-shidi, it seems Li Lanxiu doesn’t recognize you?”
Since entering the room, Li Lanxiu hadn’t spared them a single glance. After calming the townspeople, he sat down and said nothing.
Li Xuanzhen shot Han Qian a sidelong glance and replied calmly, “It’s been many years. I’m no longer the child he once bullied. It’s not surprising he didn’t recognize me.”
Jiang Zhuo kept sizing up Li Lanxiu. From his angle, he could only see a slender profile. Silky black hair half-tied and half-loose, with pale skin showing through—translucent and strikingly white against the black hair and red robe.
Cultivators prized upright conduct and composed posture, yet Li Lanxiu alone sat there carelessly relaxed, as if indifferent to how others viewed him.
The group stared at Li Lanxiu without restraint. Anyone could feel the weight of their gazes, yet he didn’t look their way even once, as if he was used to it.
Jiang Zhuo hadn’t seen his face, but he had to admit—even this posture alone carried an alluring kind of beauty.
No wonder Jiang Jiusi had fallen for him.
The teahouse owner brought over a plate of dried fruit. Having just witnessed a miracle, he beamed at Li Lanxiu and Chu Yue. “Immortals, do you have a place to stay? We have a few vacant rooms upstairs…”
“No need.” Chu Yue cut him off. He looked at Li Lanxiu and after a moment’s thought said, “Young Master, I know the lord of Dreamsaint City. The city’s guards are all under his command. It would be more convenient for us to stay at the city lord’s estate in order to monitor the situation.”
Of course, the crown prince of Dongyue would know the city lord under Dongyue’s rule.
Li Lanxiu nodded. He picked up the Coldiron Fan from the table and stood up. “Alright, we’ll go to the city lord’s estate.”
He walked to the doorway, paused and looked at the Dao Sect cultivators seated behind him. “You all should come too.”
With that, he stepped over the threshold and left.
Han Qian stood up first and waved to gather the disciples of Loftcloud Sect.
The others also rose. Only Li Xuanzhen remained seated, staring pensively at Li Lanxiu’s back.
Jiang Zhuo scoffed and crossed his arms. “You’re really going with him to the city lord’s estate?”
Han Qian smiled indifferently. “We came to Dreamsaint City to protect its people. From how he calmed the crowd earlier, I judge him to be a competent ally. Whether he’s handsome or ugly has nothing to do with our mission.”
Li Xuanzhen nodded and stood up with a smile. “Han-shixiong is right. We didn’t come here to settle personal grudges. I’ll go with you. What about you, Young Lord Jiang?”
Jiang Zhuo begrudgingly nodded and followed them out.
The city lord’s estate sat not far away—a large manor under heavy guard. Chu Yue exchanged a few words with the lead guard. The man then turned and hurried into the estate.
Soon, a refined middle-aged man rushed out from within.
City Lord Xu hurried down the steps. His eyes welled up when he saw Chu Yue, then he looked toward Li Lanxiu and smiled. “Immortals, I did not receive you properly upon your arrival. Please, come in!”
Li Lanxiu entered the city lord’s estate. Not long after, he saw several sword-bearing priestesses in white robes seated in the main hall. The disciples of Jademaiden Sect had arrived before them.
“Please, everyone, have a seat.” City Lord Xu called for the servants to bring tea. A line of them filed in, each carrying a cup. Xu picked one up himself and walked it over to Chu Yue. He opened his mouth to speak but hesitated. “Immortal, please have some tea.”
Chu Yue patted his arm in comfort. City Lord Xu grasped his arm in return, tears brimming in his eyes. Chu Yue glanced toward Li Lanxiu and introduced him softly. “This is Young Master Li of our household, a disciple of Violetstage Peak, on Conundrum Sect.”
City Lord Xu personally brought a cup of tea to Li Lanxiu. “Immortal, please have some tea. You must be tired from the journey.”
“Thank you, my lord.” Li Lanxiu took the tea and placed it on the table, glancing at the cultivators seated across from him.
A young man dressed in Loftcloud Sect robes gave him a meaningful smile. He raised a hand and touched the spot beneath his chin—the same spot where Li Lanxiu bore a scar.
Li Lanxiu calmly shifted his gaze to the next person. The youth’s smile vanished at once, his expression darkened, clearly displeased he hadn’t been recognized.
Jiang Zhuo met his eyes, subtly straightening his posture and raising his chin with arrogance, only to be met with the same indifference. Jiang Zhuo’s jaw tensed.
When Li Lanxiu’s gaze fell on Han Qian, he stood and cupped his fists. “I’m Han Qian of Loftcloud Sect’s Bluesouth Peak. May I ask who you are?”
“Li Lanxiu of Violetstage Peak, Conundrum Sect,” Li Lanxiu replied simply.
Chu Yue’s eyes swept over the group, pausing briefly on Li Xuanzhen. He had noticed the man’s earlier movement. “Chu Yue, Violetstage Peak.”
The priestesses in snow-white veiled hats introduced themselves one by one. The woman seated in the center lifted the white veil covering her face. “Jademaiden Sect, Jing Mei.”
She said this while casting a glance at Li Lanxiu.
Chu Yue’s brow twitched. He immediately turned to look at Li Lanxiu.
The holy maiden of Jademaiden Sect—Li Lanxiu had once crossed paths with her in the Azurerain realm. He nodded, his voice laced with a smile. “It’s been a while.”
Jing Mei looked at him and said, “I asked about you afterward. You truly don’t practice the sword. That day I was the one pressing too hard. I apologize for the offense.”
Li Lanxiu held his fan, the end of it resting idly against his chin. “I was somewhat inattentive that day as well. Still, to see Lady Jing Mei again amidst such turbulence—what a delightful surprise.”
Jing Mei sensed a chill sweep over her as an icy gaze landed on her. She lowered the white veil of her hat and studied Li Lanxiu and Chu Yue through the fabric, thoughtful.
So it hadn’t been her imagination last time. She had merely exchanged a few words with Young Master Li, and his contract-bound servant had glared at her like a fierce dog guarding a bone, forbidding anyone from getting close.
Li Xuanzhen suddenly stood and looked at Li Lanxiu, enunciating each word. “Li Xuanzhen of Loftcloud Sect.”
Jiang Zhuo paused, then looked at Li Lanxiu as well. “Jiang Zhuo, Streamcloud Sect.”
Li Lanxiu blinked internally. “Hm?” His gaze drifted over to Jiang Zhuo. So this was the young master of the Four Seas Commerce Guild.
As Jiang Zhuo met his eyes, he realized how striking they were. The curves at the corners of Li Lanxiu’s eyes were like the brushstrokes of a master painter—elegant, refined, yet strong. His pupils were clear and bright. When his gaze swept across someone slowly—
It made the heart race for no reason at all.
Jiang Zhuo steadied himself and scoffed with feigned indifference.
Li Xuanzhen, left without a response, sat back down with a faint smile. He sent a voice transmission to Han Qian. “He knows who I am. He’s just pretending not to.”
Han Qian frowned in confusion. Was it really so important whether Li Lanxiu recognized him? Why keep testing it again and again?
City Lord Xu clapped his hands. Servants came forward and handed out small booklets to each person, containing records of Dreamsaint City’s population and information about the underground tunnels.
A line of soldiers entered the hall, carrying stretchers. Each one was covered with a white cloth, beneath which the outline of a human form was faintly visible. Seven or eight corpses were brought in and laid in the center of the room.
City Lord Xu spoke. “Xianzhang, these bodies were brought from Basin City, which lies only fifty li away from Dreamsaint City. Just two days ago, it suffered a vicious attack. Most of the bodies were found……on the plaza below the City God’s Temple,” he continued after a deep breath, striving for composure. “I’ve served as a magistrate for many years and handled countless cases, but I have never seen such a horrifying scene. It chills the soul.”
Chu Yue leaned close to Li Lanxiu and murmured, “Young Master, I’ll take a look.”
Li Lanxiu gave his face a lazy push with the edge of his fan. “Mm, go on.”
Chu Yue gave him a long look, then rose and stepped over to the nearest stretcher. Pulling back the cloth, he revealed the corpse of an elderly man. His clothing was neat, and he had no visible wounds. His eyes were shut and his expression peaceful—as if he were merely asleep.
At the center of his brow was a small round red mark, bright and vivid like cinnabar, almost resembling the bindi on a statue of Guanyin. It gave off a serene, almost divine aura.
Li Lanxiu’s gaze lingered on this “Guanyin mark.” Chu Yue uncovered the other corpses one by one, and each one was like the old man, serene in death, unmarred except for that crimson dot between the brows.
There was nothing about these bodies that matched City Lord Xu’s description of horror—at least not at first glance.
City Lord Xu turned his head away and shut his eyes. “Xianzhang…press down on the mark between the brows. You’ll see.”
Chu Yue pressed his fingertip against the cinnabar mark on the old man’s forehead. The moment he applied pressure, a horrifying thump echoed out as the mark collapsed inward.
In the blink of an eye, the man’s forehead crumpled. The skin and bone at the center of his brow gave way, caving in completely.
Everyone in the hall froze.
Where the mark had been was now a blood-red cavity. Thick crimson fluid burst out and ran down the sides of the sunken forehead. A dense, nauseating stench of blood filled the room.
Li Lanxiu rose and stepped toward the corpse. The others followed suit. He leaned in, peering into the hollow. It was deep and utterly empty. His eyes narrowed. “Continue,” he ordered.
Chu Yue obeyed silently. He reached in—fingers first, then hand—and met no resistance as his entire hand slipped into the old man’s skull. He paused, voice low: “Young Master, it’s empty inside.”
The moment those words landed, a wave of revulsion swept through the Daoist cultivators present.
Chu Yue pulled his hand free. The hole that had been pried open suddenly collapsed inward. The old man's entire face caved in, leaving behind nothing but a blood-smeared, bone-splintered mass of viscous fluid.
Several young disciples from the Loftcloud Sect turned away and covered their mouths, struggling not to retch.
Li Lanxiu pulled out a handkerchief and tossed it to Chu Yue. Then he returned to his chair and sat down, turning his eyes away from the horrific corpse.
Taking the handkerchief, Chu Yue wiped the blood from Li Lanxiu’s palm. He stood in front of him, shielding him from the gruesome scene.
City Lord Xu said in a low voice, “All the bodies are like this.”
Han Qian, a mid-level disciple of Loftcloud Sect, didn’t have a high cultivation but was experienced and well-traveled. He studied the corpse thoughtfully.
With Chu Yue in the way, Li Xuanzhen couldn’t see Li Lanxiu. He turned and asked, “Han-shixiong, you’ve been to Goldmoon City. Was it the same there?”
Han Qian shook his head. “When I arrived, more than a month had passed since the massacre. The city’s soldiers were still clearing the area. The bodies were in such a state that I couldn’t tell their appearance. I didn’t see anything like this.”
“But…it does remind me of something.”
Jiang Zhuo frowned. “What?”
Han Qian stood and stepped back a few paces. He thought aloud. “Two hundred years ago, our sect had a shixiong named Gu Zhengxing. He became obsessed with the Red Sect’s sword techniques and strayed from the righteous path, bringing great shame to our sect.”
“Since then, we’ve forbidden disciples from studying any texts related to the Red Sect.”
“But I’ve always been curious by nature. Once, in the library pavilion, I found a book that Gu-shixiong had hidden. It said that the Red Sect’s leader was called the Buddha Son within their ranks. The Buddha is said to have thirty-two auspicious marks, and one of them is the ‘mark of white hair between the brows.’”
That so-called white hair mark was a red dot between the brows. Those who bore this mark were said to be spared the suffering of reincarnation and were guided to the Western Paradise by the Buddha.
“So I suspect this method of death was deliberate—a gift from the Buddha Son.”
After he spoke, a wave of dread surged through Han Qian. What kind of gift hollowed out a skull?
There was only shredded flesh and bone left in the skull. It didn’t look like someone had scooped it out, but rather like it had been eaten clean.
After the meal, something crawled out through the space between the brows. Just imagining the scene was enough to chill the blood.
Li Lanxiu sat behind Chu Yue. The others could only see his loose sleeves draped over the armrests as he spoke in a soft and unhurried tone. "Why did the Red Sect massacre the city?"
He had been pondering that question ever since they arrived in Dreamsaint City.
Li Xuanzhen let out a soft laugh and asked in return, "Does a demonic sect need a reason to kill?"
Jiang Zhuo stared at the hand he rested on the chair—snow-white, long-fingered, with a faint pink at the knuckles that drew the eye. Chu Yue, who blocked it from view, was quite the eyesore. "The Red Sect and our Daoist sects are mortal enemies. This massacre was clearly a provocation."
"What do you think, Daoist Li?" Jing Mei asked suddenly.
Li Lanxiu turned his head and glanced at her. Chu Yue stepped forward and blocked his view.
Han Qian had never considered this question. Everyone in the Daoist sects knew the Red Sect was full of madmen. Madmen didn’t need reasons to kill.
But once Li Lanxiu raised the point, he thought for a moment. "If the Red Sect only wanted to provoke us, they could’ve massacred a few small sects. Wouldn’t that have infuriated us even more?"
“That…does seem to be…” Jiang Zhuo had no rebuttal.
Han Qian looked toward Li Lanxiu. He cleared his throat and asked earnestly, "What are your thoughts, Young Master Li?"
Li Lanxiu straightened up and spoke calmly and methodically. "Evildoers never act without purpose. Everything the Red Sect does serves a goal. What they call a 'blessing' is in fact a curse. They must have obtained something we don’t yet understand."
He didn’t understand the minds of the righteous, but he knew the wicked—because he was one of them.
Chu Yue curled his lips slightly and straightened his back. "The young master makes a good point."
Li Xuanzhen chuckled and shook his head, speaking kindly. "The Red Sect only killed people. They didn’t steal money. What could those poor commoners possibly have that the Red Sect would covet? Young Master Li, don’t trap yourself in a dead end."
Han Qian, seated in the same row, nodded and said with clear agreement, "What Young Master Li said was exactly right."
Jing Mei spoke softly. "I agree with Young Master Li."
Li Xuanzhen looked at his shixiong in surprise. Just a moment ago, he had been accusing Li Lanxiu of being a 'malicious scion of a prestigious clan,' yet now he was switching sides and supporting him. Left without allies, he looked to Jiang Zhuo and asked with a smile, "Jiang Zhuo, what do you think?"
Jiang Zhuo stared at Li Lanxiu’s fingers tapping lightly on the armrest. His nails gleamed with a gentle, pearly glow like priceless pearls. Without hesitation, he said, "I think he makes a good point."
***
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