Chapter 23 – Whispers Beneath the Moonlight
The night fell silent over the Eastern Market, but beneath that calm silence, danger stirred like a snake in the shadows.
Ye Tianlan stood by the window of his inn room, staring at the moonlight pouring through the thin wooden frames. His masked face reflected faintly in the glass—cold, unreadable. Yet his eyes were calm, too calm for someone being watched.
He already knew.
From the moment he'd entered the market, he had felt them—those faint fluctuations in spiritual energy, so subtle that an ordinary cultivator would never notice. But Ye Tianlan had walked through the valley of death before. No killing intent could escape his sense.
"They're patient," he murmured softly. "But patience can be a weapon… and a trap."
He gathered his things quietly, wrapping the herbs and spirit ores he had purchased into a small storage pouch. Then, with a light flick of his finger, he released a faint thread of spiritual energy that dispersed into the air like mist.
A simple illusion art—his spiritual signature lingering in the room even after he left.
When the guards finally sensed movement later that night, they would see a faint aura meditating on the floor.
But Ye Tianlan… was already gone.
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Outside, the moon hung bright and cold. The city lights dimmed in the distance as Ye Tianlan moved across the rooftops, his figure ghostly against the night sky. He didn't fly, nor use any flashy technique; his steps were soundless, light as falling leaves.
He moved toward the northern gate. The world beyond the walls was wild and untamed—perfect for hiding, perfect for planning.
But just as he passed a quiet alley, a whisper of spiritual energy brushed against his mind. Someone had noticed.
From the shadows, three figures emerged—Celestial Guards in gray cloaks, their faces hidden under enchanted masks.
"Stop," one of them ordered coldly, their weapon gleaming under the moonlight. "Identify yourself."
Ye Tianlan didn't respond. His gaze swept over them once, reading the flow of their qi, their footing, the faint trembling in their hands. They weren't elite. Watchers, not killers.
"I don't wish for trouble," he said, his voice low, carrying a calm authority that made even the guards hesitate.
But one of them, perhaps younger and more impulsive, took a step forward. "Then remove your mask."
Ye Tianlan looked at him silently. Then—he smiled under the mask, a small, mocking smile.
"Some faces are better left unseen."
The guards tensed. Before they could move, Ye Tianlan's figure blurred. He didn't attack, didn't release killing intent—he simply vanished, leaving behind nothing but the soft ripple of air.
"Wh—where did he go?" one guard gasped, scanning the surroundings with a detection talisman. But all it picked up was wind.
Another guard clenched his jaw. "We must report this. That man's aura… it was suffocating."
Far beyond the city walls, Ye Tianlan appeared on a lonely mountain ridge. The moonlight bathed his black robes, the forest below stretching endlessly like a sea of shadows.
He sat down beneath an ancient pine, removed his mask, and looked toward the distant glow of the city.
"So… the Celestial Guards have begun to move," he whispered. "Just as I expected."
He reached into his storage ring and took out a torn map—the Map of Seven Heavenly Realms, a relic passed down through the Xu Clan's ancestors. Its markings shimmered faintly under moonlight.
His finger traced the first path—Earth Realm.
Then upward—Spirit, Immortal, Fiend, Celestial, Primordial, and finally Abyssal Realm.
Each name pulsed faintly, as if waiting.
"The Seven Realms…" he muttered, a faint determination rising in his eyes. "One day, I will climb every single one of them. And when I reach the top, those who destroyed my clan will kneel beneath the same heavens they once ruled."
The wind howled across the mountains.
And deep within the shadows, something ancient stirred—as if the heavens themselves had heard his vow.