"It's fine. The kid looks bright to me—maybe he just doesn't want to talk."
Li Qingqiu smiled softly as he looked at Yuan Li. He waved him over, and the little boy walked around the table, pressing himself against Li Qingqiu's leg with quiet dependence.
He wasn't worried about Yuan Li's growth. The boy possessed the Heart of a Grandmaster fate—proof enough of his intelligence and potential.
As Li Qingqiu chatted casually with Zhang Yuchun and Li Dongyue, his mind kept drifting back to the Fortune Opportunity.
Night soon fell. Just as the dishes were being served, Yang Jueding and his group finally returned.
Yang Jueding walked at the front, his expression strange. Behind him were Xu Ning and Qin Ye, while the other disciples stayed at the new courtyard below the mountain gate, excitedly retelling the events of the afternoon battle.
Zhang Yuchun stood up immediately. "Elder Yang, how did it go?"
Everyone turned their eyes toward him, the air tight with tension. This was the first time Qingxiao Sect had ever been provoked so openly—if they lost, the trouble that would follow would never end.
Yang Jueding answered, "They're gone. We drove them off—thanks to Xu Ning's sword."
At those words, everyone in the courtyard exhaled in relief.
"Xu Ning?" Li Sifeng asked in disbelief. "Then what about you? You couldn't handle that Absolute Saint Sect rabble yourself?"
Yang Jueding coughed awkwardly. "That sect's no small matter. They're backed by the Tang Clan of Linchuan, and their Sect Master is a true apex master. Even Zhu Wuliang, the Scarlet Flame Palm—the number-one martial expert of Cangzhou—was defeated by him. I can't match that kind of strength."
"Zhu Wuliang? The Scarlet Flame Palm Zhu Wuliang?" Cheng Canghai's eyes widened in shock. His voice trembled as he stared at Xu Ning as if he were seeing a ghost.
Yang Jueding nodded, his tone easing slightly. "That's right. Zhu Wuliang himself. The Sect Master's name is Yan Wujin. He wasn't known before, but it won't be long before his name shakes the martial world."
By this point, Li Qingqiu's interest had faded. "Sit down. Talk while you eat."
Yang Jueding and the others took their seats. The rest of the table leaned in, eager to hear how Xu Ning had fought.
"That Yan Wujin's power is terrifying," Yang Jueding began, excitement creeping into his voice. "I've never seen inner energy so vast. He could literally boil a lake with his qi! But Xu Ning's sword—now that was something else. Her sword qi carried lightning itself, piercing straight through his energy field. You should've seen Yan Wujin's face—his eyes nearly popped out of his head!"
As he spoke, the crowd's awe grew. The more they heard, the clearer it became just how terrifying Xu Ning's strength was.
Could she be stronger than Jiang Zhaoxia now?
When they turned to look at her, she was quietly eating beside Li Dongyue, calm and well-behaved—nothing like someone who had just defeated one of the greatest masters in Guzhou.
The meal was lively, laughter echoing across the courtyard. Xu Ning's victory over the Absolute Saint Sect had lifted the entire sect's spirit sky-high.
In another guestroom, Su Xiling was recounting the same story to Zhu Yan, her tone still trembling with disbelief.
"To think an expert of the Innate Realm could be beaten by a girl… It's incredible! Could Qingxiao Sect really be blessed by immortals? Who would've guessed there's someone there stronger than Jiang Zhaoxia—and even younger! How could she possibly have reached that level?"
Her hands shook so hard that tea spilled from her cup.
Zhu Yan, however, remained serene. "There's always someone greater, and the heavens stretch endlessly. This world holds countless fortunes and secrets—most beyond our reach. Xu Ning's strength only proves one thing: her master, Li Qingqiu, must be even stronger."
Su Xiling blinked in thought. "So maybe what their disciples said is true—that Li Qingqiu learned his arts from an immortal in a dream?"
Zhu Yan didn't answer. She herself couldn't tell whether it was truth or legend.
That night, few people found sleep easily.
Later, after dinner, Xu Ning followed Li Qingqiu back to his room and carefully described Yan Wujin's power.
"Master, though I defeated him, I couldn't kill him. His martial arts are extraordinary. If Elder Yang had fought him, he would've been gravely injured within three moves."
Her tone carried faint frustration. After breaking through to the fifth layer of the Nurturing Essence realm, her confidence had soared. She had surpassed even Jiang Zhaoxia's level and left her peers far behind—yet her first real battle after that breakthrough had ended in a draw.
Sitting on the bench, Li Qingqiu chuckled. He reached out and pinched her cheek gently. "What more do you want? You just said it yourself—Yan Wujin's a powerhouse. Without you, he and his sect would probably be ruling Guzhou by now. He's the one who should feel miserable."
"Master," Xu Ning said seriously, "I think my swordsmanship comprehension isn't improving much. My inner energy's lightning nature gives me some ideas though. I'd like to focus on developing techniques that match my energy type. Is that alright?"
Li Qingqiu smiled approvingly. "Of course. Finding your own path is what truly marks your independence as a cultivator."
"I'm not going anywhere," she said immediately, puffing her cheeks. "I'm staying with Master forever. I'll live in Qingxiao Sect for the rest of my life."
"Haha, if that's how you feel, your master couldn't be happier. But if someday you fall in love and want to leave the mountain, I won't stop you."
"Please, I'm not that shallow," she scoffed.
Candlelight flickered across the wall, casting their shadows long and soft. Looking at her, Li Qingqiu couldn't help but remember the frail, dirty girl she'd been when she first came up the mountain. Now, she was completely transformed—radiant, steady, and carrying the presence of a true cultivator. Time really flew fast.
After a little more conversation, he sent her off to rest.
Once the door closed, Li Qingqiu waited for several breaths, then opened the Dao Lineage panel and tapped on the Fortune Opportunity.
[Claiming Fortune Reward]
[Activating Fortune Sequence]
[Detecting Fortune Energy]
[Fortune Located: Treasure of Heaven and Earth. Accept Fortune Guidance?]
Treasure of Heaven and Earth?
Li Qingqiu's eyes lit up. Without hesitation, he selected Accept.
In the next instant, his consciousness was pulled into a dream.
In the dream, Li Qingqiu found himself unable to move of his own will. He could only watch as his body sped through the deep mountain forests, rushing toward some unknown destination.
The Taikun Mountain Range was vast—stretching across the southeastern border of the Great Li Dynasty. To the far east lay hundreds of li of untamed wilderness, shrouded in miasma, a land few dared to step foot in. It was said that beyond those mountains was an endless ocean, but no one had ever crossed it.
Lin Xunfeng had once warned them: never go east. If thick fog ever appeared, retreat immediately.
The Qingxiao Sect's mountains lay still dozens of li from that forbidden region. To common people, even finding Qingxiao Sect's mountain was already an impossible task—its hidden cliffs were already part of the deep mountains. Beyond the sect's rear peak stretched boundless ridges and valleys, a landscape that inspired both awe and dread.
In the dream, Li Qingqiu passed through layer after layer of miasma. He didn't know how far he had traveled before a massive tree came into view.
It was enormous—at least one hundred zhang tall. Countless branches spread outward like a sea of green, vines dangling down in clusters. Around it, the other trees seemed to bow like worshipers before a king.
Yet the vision was hazy; he couldn't make out the tree's true form, only its towering silhouette that reached the clouds.
When Li Qingqiu woke, the image of that colossal tree still lingered vividly in his mind. The thought alone left him deeply shaken.
He had never seen anything so enormous in his life.
But since this was revealed through a Fortune Opportunity, the tree must hold unimaginable benefits for him.
He decided to depart before dawn. The earlier he went, the better.
…
Under the dim night sky, Tang Ziqi supported the disheveled, bloodstained Yan Wujin as they stumbled through the forest.
"Enough," Yan Wujin growled through gritted teeth. "Stop here. I must heal."
Tang Ziqi quickly lowered him beneath a nearby tree. As Yan Wujin sat cross-legged and began channeling his inner energy, Tang Ziqi's mind was still spinning from what had happened.
Just thinking about Xu Ning made a shiver run down his spine. He couldn't tell whether it was from fear—or from the cold night wind.
He sat nearby, unscrewed the cap of his flask, and took a few gulps of water before sinking into silent thought.
All the disciples they had recruited from Zhu Wuliang's old followers had fled. To rebuild their sect, they would have to find another target—another sect to trample as a stepping stone.
But next time, they would stay far away from the Taikun Mountain Range.
The forest was quiet. Only the occasional gust of wind disturbed the silence.
After running for more than one or two hundred li, Tang Ziqi was utterly exhausted. He leaned against the trunk and drifted into sleep.
He didn't know how long he slept before a voice woke him.
Opening his eyes, he saw Yan Wujin sitting upright, his expression sharp and wary as he scanned the surroundings.
"What's wrong?" Tang Ziqi rubbed his eyes, his voice weak. But when he glanced around, his fatigue vanished in an instant.
He didn't need Yan Wujin to answer—he immediately sensed something was off.
The forest was covered in thick fog.
Dense, rolling mist surrounded them on all sides. When he had fallen asleep earlier, there had been none.
"This place isn't right. I think we've gone the wrong way," Yan Wujin said in a low, steady tone. After three hours of meditation, his condition had improved slightly, and his voice was strong again.
Tang Ziqi's face paled. "There are rumors that deep within the Taikun Mountains lies a forbidden zone—a place full of deadly miasma where no living thing returns. They say monsters dwell there, and even wild beasts dare not enter."
Yan Wujin stood up slowly. "It seems the rumors were true. We have to leave. Something's wrong here."
Tang Ziqi rose quickly, and together they circled around, deciding to head back the way they came.
By now, a full night had passed. Qingxiao Sect surely would have stopped pursuing them.
Yet even after running several li, the fog didn't fade. Instead, it grew thicker, and both men felt a chilling unease—as if unseen eyes were watching them from within the mist.
"Wait."
Yan Wujin suddenly stopped. Tang Ziqi froze and turned to him nervously.
"This is where we rested before," Yan Wujin said grimly, pointing at a nearby tree.
Tang Ziqi looked closely—and his heart dropped. A single mark was carved into the bark. It was the exact same place.
Panic flooded him. He had read countless classics, but never had he encountered such a terrifying situation.
Crack!
A branch snapped behind them. Both men whipped around instantly. Through the fog, a shadow approached.
Every muscle in their bodies tensed. They prepared to fight.
Then, a figure stepped out from the mist—calm, unhurried.
It was Li Qingqiu.
His left hand rested lightly on the hilt of the Tianhong Sword at his waist. His expression was relaxed, his eyes cold and steady as he walked straight up to them.
The two recognized his Qingxiao Sect robes and exchanged a quick glance but didn't dare to act rashly.
"You two—who are you, and how did you end up lost here?" Li Qingqiu asked evenly.
Tang Ziqi immediately cupped his fists and replied respectfully, "We were ambushed by enemies and fled in panic. We've been lost for several days now. Brother, do you know the way out of this forest?"
Before Li Qingqiu could answer, Yan Wujin suddenly turned his head toward another direction. His voice was sharp. "Didn't expect it to be so lively here. No need to hide—come out."
Hearing this, both Li Qingqiu and Tang Ziqi turned toward the sound.
The nearby thicket began to rustle. A moment later, a ragged old man staggered out of the mist. His hair was a wild mess of white and gray, his robe tattered and filthy, and he carried a gourd in one hand, swaying like a drunkard.
Li Qingqiu narrowed his eyes, studying the man thoughtfully. Something about him felt… familiar.