Chapter 2: The Art of Misdirection
Chen Feng stepped out of his quarters into the cool night air, the mountain breeze carrying the scent of spiritual herbs from the sect's gardens. Above, stars wheeled in patterns that he'd personally witnessed repeat 89 trillion times across different realities. They'd lost their romance approximately 40 trillion years ago.
The three Soul Transformation cultivators were making their way up the mountain path, still cloaked in their stealth techniques. They moved with the confidence of apex predators entering a rabbit warren—cautious enough to avoid detection, but certain of their overwhelming advantage.
Adorable, Chen Feng thought.
He could sense their cultivation bases clearly now. Early Soul Transformation, all three of them. Probably elders from one of the major sects in the region—Shadow Moon Sect, if he was reading their technique signatures correctly. A first-rate power, several grades above Crimson Peak.
They were here looking for whatever had caused that "massive disturbance" three months ago. Looking for him, though they didn't know it.
The irony was exquisite. They were hunting a Demon God with the same energy as children hunting a tiger with wooden swords.
Chen Feng closed his eyes and extended his perception across the sect, then further, across the mountain range, the region, the continent, the planet. His consciousness, even sealed to a mere fraction of a fraction of its true scope, could encompass this entire mortal world with less effort than a human spent blinking.
Now, what would be amusing?
His awareness touched upon something interesting about three hundred miles north—a spatial anomaly, a crack between realms that had been slowly widening over the past decade. The local sects hadn't detected it yet because it was hidden deep underground, but in another six months it would rupture completely and release a flood of void beasts into this region.
Perfect.
With a thought so subtle it didn't even register as qi expenditure, Chen Feng accelerated the anomaly's collapse. Not by much—just enough to move the timeline from six months to six hours.
There. A proper distraction. When that rift opened, every major power in the region would rush north to contain it. These three investigators would forget all about the Crimson Peak Sect and its mysterious disturbance.
Problem solved. Annoyance neutralized.
Chen Feng turned to head back inside, considering the matter closed.
Then he sensed something that made him pause.
One of the three Soul Transformation cultivators had split off from the group and was heading directly toward the outer disciple quarters. Toward Zhao Ming's room, specifically.
Interesting. Are they already making connections?
He expanded his awareness slightly and listened to the conversation between the other two:
"Elder Han will question that Zhao Ming boy," one was saying. "The information we received suggested someone new joined the outer disciples around the time of the disturbance. If we can narrow down the candidates—"
"Careful," the other interrupted. "If a true power is hiding here, we don't want to spook them. Observe, gather information, report back. Those are our orders."
Chen Feng's expression didn't change, but internally he felt a flicker of that old, familiar irritation. The kind that had, on seventeen separate occasions across his existence, resulted in the complete annihilation of entire cultivation realms.
They're going to talk to Zhao Ming. Zhao Ming is going to mention his "rivalry" with Chen Feng. They're going to investigate Chen Feng. They're going to draw attention to Chen Feng. They're going to—
He stopped that line of thinking.
Deep breath. Not that he needed to breathe, but the motion was calming.
Don't destroy the sect. Don't destroy the continent. Don't destroy the planet. You're here to be entertained, not to solve problems with overwhelming annihilation.
Though it would be very easy. And very satisfying.
But no. He'd promised himself he'd try to maintain this identity for at least a year. That meant subtlety. Misdirection. The gentle art of making problems go away without anyone realizing he'd been involved.
Chen Feng considered his options with the focused intensity of someone who'd spent trillions of years perfecting the art of not giving a damn while simultaneously controlling everything.
Option one: Do nothing. Let them investigate. Use minor techniques to deflect suspicion. Boring, but safe.
Option two: Kill them. Quick, permanent. But would draw more attention.
Option three...
A slow smile crossed his face.
Option three: Give them what they're looking for. Just not what they're actually looking for.
Chen Feng closed his eyes and let his consciousness drift back through time—not actual time travel, just accessing the perfect memory that came with his existence. He sorted through the past three months, reviewing every disciple in the sect, analyzing their patterns, their secrets, their hidden depths.
And there, in the inner sect, he found exactly what he needed.
Zhou Wei. Inner disciple, Core Formation Realm, twenty-eight years old. Talented but not exceptional. Came from a destroyed sect, arrived at Crimson Peak six months ago. Kept to himself, practiced diligently, showed proper respect to elders.
Also—and this was the interesting part—was secretly practicing a demonic cultivation technique that consumed human souls to accelerate his progress.
How delightfully convenient.
Chen Feng had noticed this, of course, approximately three seconds after arriving at the sect. Had catalogued it, considered whether it was entertaining enough to warrant attention, decided it wasn't, and promptly forgot about it.
Now, though? Now it was useful.
With the barest flex of will, Chen Feng began making adjustments. Nothing obvious. Nothing traceable. Just small nudges, probability adjustments, reality suggestions.
Zhou Wei's demonic aura, normally suppressed to near-invisibility, suddenly became slightly more detectable to Soul Transformation level perception. The spatial fluctuations from his cultivation chamber, usually masked, began leaking just enough to ping on advanced detection arrays. The souls he'd consumed, their residual karma, started manifesting as spiritual disturbances that would read as "massive power signature" to anyone not looking too closely.
And the timing of when he'd started this practice? Chen Feng retroactively adjusted the evidence to suggest it had begun exactly three months ago.
There, he thought with satisfaction. A mysterious expert with suspicious power signatures appearing three months ago. They'll investigate, find actual evidence of actual wrongdoing, feel accomplished, and leave. Everyone wins. Except Zhou Wei, but he was going to get caught eventually anyway.
The whole process took perhaps three seconds and zero detectable qi expenditure.
Chen Feng opened his eyes, nodded to himself, and went back inside his quarters. Problem solved. He could get back to the important business of doing absolutely nothing.
Elder Han of the Shadow Moon Sect knocked softly on Zhao Ming's door, his spiritual sense confirming the young man was awake inside, likely still recovering from his qi deviation.
The door opened to reveal Zhao Ming, his face pale but his eyes burning with indignation. "Who—" He stopped, sensing the overwhelming aura of Soul Transformation, and immediately fell to his knees. "Elder! This junior greets you!"
"Rise," Han said mildly. "I'm investigating certain... irregularities in your sect. I understand you suffered a qi deviation today?"
Zhao Ming stood, trembling slightly—though whether from his injury or the proximity to such power, even he couldn't say. "Yes, Elder. I was... it was during a confrontation with a fellow outer disciple."
"Oh?" Han's eyes sharpened. "Tell me about this disciple."
And Zhao Ming did. He talked about Chen Feng, about his weird behavior, his disrespectful attitude, his somehow surviving the qi pressure of a Core Formation expert. He talked for fifteen minutes, his voice growing more animated, cataloguing every slight and strange behavior.
Elder Han listened with growing interest. This Chen Feng sounded... unusual. Perhaps—
His thought was interrupted by a sudden pulse of demonic energy that washed over his senses like cold water.
Han's head snapped up, his spiritual sense exploding outward. What was that?
There, in the inner sect, a flare of soul-devouring energy. Distinct. Unmistakable. The signature of someone practicing demonic cultivation at a level far beyond what should exist in this backwater sect.
And more importantly—the energy signature matched the type of disturbance their divination elder had detected three months ago.
Found you, Han thought with grim satisfaction.
"Thank you for your information," he told Zhao Ming absently, already moving toward the door. "Continue your recovery."
He stepped outside and sent a qi transmission to his companions. "Inner sect. East pavilion. I've found our target."
The three Soul Transformation experts converged on Zhou Wei's cultivation chamber like hawks on a rabbit.
Chen Feng, sitting in meditation in his quarters, sensed the entire thing play out with the detached interest of someone watching a play they'd already read the script for.
The three Shadow Moon elders burst into Zhou Wei's chamber. Zhou Wei, panicked and unprepared, tried to fight. He lasted approximately eight seconds against three Soul Transformation experts before being completely subdued.
They found the evidence—soul jars hidden behind false walls, demonic cultivation manuals, the works. They found enough damning proof to execute him seventeen times over by regional law.
Elder Han examined the spiritual signature carefully, comparing it to the divination results from three months ago. Close enough match. Not perfect, but cultivation auras changed as practitioners advanced. This had to be it—this Zhou Wei must have made some breakthrough three months ago that created the disturbance, and had been using demonic cultivation to accelerate his progress since then.
"We've got him," Han transmitted to Shadow Moon Sect. "Demonic cultivator, Core Formation level, but his technique signatures suggest he may have hidden depths. Requesting permission to bring him back for interrogation."
The response came swiftly: "Approved. Secure the prisoner and return immediately."
Within thirty minutes, they were gone, Zhou Wei bound in suppression chains, still protesting his innocence (technically accurate—he was guilty of demonic cultivation but not of being the "massive disturbance" they'd detected).
The Crimson Peak Sect's alarm arrays finally activated as the elders detected the intrusion, but by then the Shadow Moon experts were already miles away.
Sect Master Ye Tianlong emerged from his cultivation chamber, his Nascent Soul aura blazing with alarm. "What happened? Who dared intrude upon my sect?"
His elders rushed to explain: Shadow Moon Sect had infiltrated, discovered a demonic cultivator among their ranks, and removed him. The shame was enormous—to have a demonic cultivator hiding in their sect without detection was a black mark on their reputation.
But also, in a way, it was a relief. Better that Shadow Moon had found and removed the threat than let it continue festering.
Sect Master Ye issued immediate orders: full security review, enhanced background checks on all recent recruits, increased patrols. The sect would recover from this embarrassment by showing their commitment to righteousness.
And through it all, in a small room in the outer disciple quarters, Chen Feng continued his meditation, his expression never changing, his presence never flickering.
To anyone observing, he was just Chen Feng, outer disciple, fourth layer of Qi Condensation, sleeping peacefully through the night's excitement.
Problem solved, he thought with the satisfaction of someone who'd just swatted an annoying fly. Now I can get back to peace and quiet.
The next morning arrived with the sect in chaos.
Chen Feng walked to the morning assembly, moving through crowds of gossiping disciples. The discovery of Zhou Wei's demonic cultivation had spread like wildfire, and everyone had opinions.
"I always knew there was something wrong with him!"
"He seemed so normal, though..."
"This is why we must be vigilant in our cultivation! Evil lurks everywhere!"
If only they knew, Chen Feng thought with dark amusement. The most dangerous thing in this sect is standing right here, and they're worried about a Core Formation demonic cultivator who was basically a petty criminal by cosmic standards.
He took his usual place at the back of the assembly, hands clasped behind his back, expression neutral.
Liu Mei found him there, her face flushed with excitement. "Chen Feng! Did you hear? There was a demonic cultivator in the inner sect! Shadow Moon Sect elders came and took him away!"
"Fascinating," Chen Feng said with perfect disinterest.
"You don't seem surprised," she observed.
"Evil exists," he replied flatly. "This is known."
"Well, yes, but—" She paused, studying him. "Do you care about anything, Chen Feng?"
It was asked innocently, with genuine curiosity rather than accusation.
Chen Feng considered the question with more seriousness than she probably intended. Did he care about anything? Once, yes. Power. Knowledge. Conquest. Revenge. Love, even, in those early millennia before he'd learned that attachment only multiplied suffering when you couldn't die and everyone else could.
Now? Now he cared about entertainment. About novelty. About anything that could make him feel something other than the crushing weight of infinite existence.
But he couldn't exactly tell her that.
"I care about not being annoyed," he said instead.
Liu Mei laughed, thinking he was joking. "You're so strange, Chen Feng. But I like that about you."
She walked away before he could respond, leaving him standing alone in the crowd.
Strange, he repeated mentally. If only that were the worst thing I could be called.
The assembly began with Sect Master Ye Tianlong addressing the gathered disciples, his voice resonating with righteous fury about the importance of vigilance and the dao of righteousness. He spoke for twenty minutes about how evil would always be rooted out, how the sect would emerge stronger from this trial, how this was a teaching moment for them all.
Chen Feng listened with half an ear, his attention drifting across the sect.
And then he sensed something that made him focus completely for the first time in weeks.
A spatial fluctuation. Not the void rift he'd accelerated in the north—that wouldn't rupture for another five hours.
This was something else. Something closer.
Someone was teleporting into the sect. Someone with power that registered in the Dao Seeking Realm.
Oh, Chen Feng thought. This might actually be interesting.
The figure materialized directly in the assembly plaza, causing immediate chaos as disciples scattered. Sect Master Ye Tianlong's face went white as he recognized the intruder.
It was a woman, appearing in her thirties, devastatingly beautiful in a way that suggested her looks were probably deadly in several literal senses. She wore robes of deepest black with gold phoenix patterns, and her aura radiated Dao Seeking Realm cultivation—seventh step, if Chen Feng was reading it correctly.
A major power. A true expert. Someone who could destroy the Crimson Peak Sect with a thought.
"Ye Tianlong," she said, her voice carrying effortlessly across the plaza. "I am Xia Yue of the Heavenly Phoenix Sect. I'm looking for someone."
The Sect Master cupped his fists, bowing deeply despite being in his own sect. "Honored Elder Xia, this humble one is at your service. Who are you seeking?"
"Three months ago," Xia Yue said, "there was a disturbance in this region. A descending pressure that lasted only an instant. Our sect's formation masters detected it and triangulated the source to this mountain." Her eyes swept across the assembly, and Chen Feng felt her spiritual sense wash over everyone present.
Oh no, he thought with resignation.
"The energy signature suggests someone of tremendous power arrived here and has been hiding since. I'm here to find them."
Oh no.
"Submit to my spiritual sense examination, all of you. If you've nothing to hide, you've nothing to fear."
Definitely oh no.
Chen Feng could feel her spiritual sense beginning a deep scan of everyone present. It was thorough, professional, the kind of examination that would detect any concealed cultivation, any hidden techniques, any—
He made a decision.
Before Xia Yue's scan could reach him, Chen Feng simply... stepped sideways. Not physically. He moved his presence into a dimensional fold that technically existed between Planck-length intervals of space-time, a gap so small that only beings of his caliber could even perceive it, let alone occupy it.
To everyone in the plaza, nothing changed. Chen Feng still appeared to be standing there, a perfect shell of probability and suggestion maintaining his apparent location.
But his actual presence was elsewhere, observing from a perspective that existed in seventeen different directions simultaneously, most of which weren't technically directions by mortal understanding.
Xia Yue's spiritual sense passed through the space where Chen Feng appeared to be, detected a normal fourth-layer Qi Condensation disciple with nothing remarkable about him, and moved on.
Chen Feng watched from his non-position, feeling the faintest stirring of actual concern.
Two investigations in twelve hours. That's... unusually inconvenient.
More pressingly, Xia Yue was Dao Seeking seventh step. That was legitimate power. Not enough to threaten him, obviously—she was to him what an ant was to a mountain—but enough that if he had to deal with her, it would be noticeable.
And if it was noticeable, it would draw more attention.
And if it drew more attention, his peaceful existence here would end.
Annoying.
Xia Yue completed her scan, finding nothing. She frowned, clearly displeased. "Strange. The energy signature was definitely centered here."
Sect Master Ye stepped forward cautiously. "Honored Elder, perhaps... perhaps the signature you detected was related to the demonic cultivator who was removed last night? Shadow Moon Sect found—"
"I know what Shadow Moon found," Xia Yue interrupted. "I spoke with them before coming here. Their prisoner doesn't match the energy profile we detected." She paused, thinking. "Unless..."
Her eyes narrowed. "Unless there are multiple hidden powers in this region, which seems unlikely, or the real target is using the demonic cultivator as a scapegoat."
She's smarter than I gave her credit for, Chen Feng admitted from his non-position. Inconvenient.
"I'll be staying here for the next week," Xia Yue announced. "Observing. If there's someone hiding in this sect, they'll slip eventually."
And just like that, Chen Feng's plan for a peaceful year went up in metaphorical flames.
He slipped back into normal space, his apparent body never having moved, no one aware he'd ever left.
This, he thought with the long-suffering patience of someone who'd dealt with this exact situation approximately nine hundred thousand times before, is why I hate being bothered.
Now he had a Dao Seeking expert camping in the sect, watching for anomalies, looking for hidden powers.
He could leave, of course. Abandon this identity, move to another sect, another world, another reality. Easy. Simple.
But that would be admitting defeat. That would be letting annoyance win.
And Chen Feng, for all his sins and all his exhaustion with existence, was still fundamentally a being who refused to be inconvenienced by lesser creatures.
Fine, he decided. She wants to stay and watch? Let her watch. I've hidden from beings that make Dao Seeking look like mortal kindergarten. I can handle one persistent Phoenix Sect elder.
Though as he walked back to his quarters, ignoring the chaos around him, he couldn't help but feel that familiar sensation—the one that suggested his entertainment was about to get more complicated.
And complications, while annoying, were at least not boring.
Three months down, nine to go, he thought. Surely nothing else can go wrong.
Behind him, Zhao Ming was already planning his revenge, having recovered from his qi deviation and learned that Chen Feng had somehow avoided any punishment.
In the north, the void rift was beginning its final countdown to rupture.
And in the dimensional spaces between realities, something else—something that had been tracking Chen Feng's energy signature across time and space—was finally closing in on his location.
But Chen Feng, secure in his assumptions that he'd handled everything perfectly, walked into his quarters and sat down to meditate.
After all, what could possibly go wrong?
To be continued...