As everyone knew, the Celestial Chosen of the White Stag did not necessarily set out to be eccentric or antisocial, but every last one of them was an out-and-out egoist.
What they hated most was someone chattering by their ear, pointing fingers, and telling them how to do things; second only to that was the constriction of strict rules and systems.
Yet, just as the Celestial Chosen of Tianyuan occasionally found need for special exceptions and flexible regulations, humans—complex creatures that they were—could never be as pure as the Sovereign Virtues.
Thus, even among the Celestial Chosen of the White Stag, an organization existed.
A place known as the Wild Gathering.
It was a bizarre and convoluted outfit that combined the functions of a trade guild, craft heritage, dispute arbitration, labor dispatch, and project collaboration.
Its structure was a tangled mess spanning the globe, its influence deeply entrenched, and its line of business predictably colorful—all of it, unfortunately, strictly forbidden by local law. From smuggling pig trotters to murder and arson, they had a finger in every pie, thoroughly blanketing every dark corner of society.
When the forest grew vast, all sorts of birds nested within. Disputes and friction were par for the course, and it was not uncommon for internal factions to become bitter enemies, irreconcilable as fire and water. When that happened, twelve leaders—elected from the Gathering's key branches—would sort out the grievances and arbitrate disputes, maintaining the Wild Gathering's baseline structure and unity.
And the House of An was one such faction—an indispensable part of the Wild Gathering.
Much like the other branches that engaged in arson, murder, smuggling, robbery, and every form of villainy, the House of An's way of survival was very simple.
Simply put, if anyone within the Wild Gathering had even the slightest objection to a ruling made by the leaders, someone from the House of An would knock on their door. They would ensure that the offender, along with their entire family, came to appreciate the leaders' goodwill and painstaking care—and would never voice an objection again.
If the Path of the White Stag was the way of hunters and the wilderness, then they were the hunters tasked with hunting poachers—one of the mechanisms ensuring that this wilderness remained chaotic yet flourishing.
“Actually, ours isn’t the only family that does that kind of thing. Besides, that's work for the uncles. I’m still young, and not good for much. I talked back to my older sister, so they broke my legs and kicked me out to fend for myself. If Sister Wen hadn’t picked me up, I’d probably be taking jobs on the Wild Gathering just to get by.”
As he spoke, seemingly terrified that Ji Jue might abandon him, the boy nervously tugged at Ji Jue's sleeve and promised, “Don't worry, Brother Ji Jue, I'm very obedient! Sister Wen told me to listen to you. Please don't leave me behind!”
*Boss, please, not like this! You're already terrifying enough—half the big shots out there can't hold a candle to you.*
Ji Jue had not expected An Ran to hold him in such high regard, leaving him feeling almost flattered.
And...
In the end, he asked the question that had been eating at him: “Why do you keep calling me Brother Ji Jue?”
“Because you’re older than me,” An Ran replied as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Uh... there's no need to be that respectful,” Ji Jue scratched his head with a sigh. “Xiao Ji is fine. 'Brother Ji' just feels weird...”
“Because Brother Ji Jue is amazing!”
An Ran answered with utter solemnity, his eyes shining with yearning and admiration.
With that, he held up his notebook, flipped to the very first page where neat, graceful handwriting recorded a shocking, earth-shaking quote, and read it out slowly and solemnly—reciting the dark history Ji Jue wanted most to erase from existence:
[All my life, I have fought desperately and clawed against others...]
The moment Ji Jue realized what it was, his instinct was to snatch the notebook, tear the page out, and shove it into his mouth to swallow it whole. But Xiao An's reflexes were far too fast; he instantly clutched the notebook tight against his chest.
“Delete it! Cross it out, hurry!”
Ji Jue panicked, sweating buckets as his composure shattered completely. “That wasn’t me! It really wasn’t me! Xiao An, listen to me, give me the note—”
Unfortunately, he was hopelessly outmatched in dexterity!
Just as Ji Jue was losing his mind, someone walked over. Fully armed with loaded weapons, the bearded man at the lead politely invited Ji Jue to step forward for a moment,
pointing toward the motorhome at the very front,
where Kong Qingyan and Lou Feng waited.
Watching Ji Jue wheel his moped over, Lou Feng’s expression twitched once, then twice. Straining with all his might to maintain his composure and grace, he squeezed out words from between his teeth:
“...We meet again, Mr. Ji.”
“Whoa, long time no see, Brother Lou!” Ji Jue, on the other hand, was suffocatingly enthusiastic. Grabbing Lou Feng’s hand, he pumped it vigorously. “Remember how we hit it off like old friends just a few days ago? Why the sudden distance!”
*Why the distance? Don't you know damn well why, you bastard!*
For the first time in his life, Lou Feng felt an overwhelming urge to curse.
And Ji Jue felt much the same.
Looking at Lou Feng—practically glowing, kitted out from his leather shoes and spectacles down to his boxers in a full set of +15 gear—Ji Jue’s teeth ached with sheer envy.
Truly a young master from an illustrious clan. All that gear draped over him—like a sow in a bra, layer upon ridiculous layer!
Just you wait. Once I learn the Dissociation Art, you'll be the very first person I loot!
Beside them, the aloof and silent Kong Qingyan finally caught sight of the emblem on Ji Jue’s chest—the insignia of Tide Sound Workshop. Her pupils contracted slightly.
At this moment, she finally understood on whose behalf Ji Jue had come here. She could not help sneering, “It seems even Master Ye stoops to picking up other people's scraps and aping others' footsteps.”
“What could you possibly mean, Master Kong?”
Ji Jue kept smiling, maintaining the grace imparted by his teacher. “Before I left, my teacher even mentioned that if it weren’t for Master Kong’s reminder, we would’ve almost missed out on such a great opportunity. Even if we end up with nothing, we couldn't possibly miss the occasion. She told me to come help Master Kong hold the field and show off a few tricks.”
He paused, then continued, “She also told me to remind Master Kong—”
And just like that, he relayed the words directly from Ye Xian:
“‘With all the high winds and heavy rain lately, remember to bring in your laundry once the thunder starts. As for what’s out here, don't worry your head about it.’”
At those words, Kong Qingyan’s face changed dramatically.
Immediately following that, a crisp snap rang out.
It came from the opulent gemstone ring on her finger. Across the surface of the gem—originally intricate in its facets and glowing with contained divine radiance—a deep fissure suddenly split open.
Crack!
It was an attack alarm from her workshop—and of the highest order.
A signal that the central control layer was on the verge of falling out of control!
“Ye Xian—”
She squeezed the name through clenched teeth, her face pale. Unable to bother with Ji Jue now, she spun around and bolted into the motorhome to carry out emergency remote measures in an attempt to salvage the situation.
Any later, and control of the furnace might change hands entirely!
Professor Ye had not done anything grand.
At most, she had simply mailed a parcel to Master Kong's workshop.
As for what was inside that package or what consequences it would bring, Ji Jue had no idea. Professor Ye had merely said that once the parcel arrived, no matter how patient Kong Qingyan tried to be, she would not be able to stay on-site to pull any tricks.
To an artisan, a workshop was sometimes worth even more than their own life!
A legacy workshop was often a treasure built across generations of craftsmen. Every single circuit and rune had been painstakingly carved over decades or centuries, steeped in countless spiritus for meticulous upkeep—not to mention an entire school's accumulated collections and mind-bogglingly expensive equipment.
Even a Master could never turn a blind eye while another Master invaded their workshop.
She was not a madwoman like Ye Xian, who would defect from her school at the slightest disagreement. If anything happened to the ancestral workshop, then even as a Master, she would become an unforgivable sinner of her sect!
Now, watching his teacher leave without looking back, Lou Feng’s expression finally collapsed completely. He shot Ji Jue a cold glare.
“It seems Mr. Ji came well prepared. Very well. When the time comes, let our skills do the talking.”
Ji Jue smiled and said nothing.
If he offended him, so be it. He was hardly some pushover who swallowed insults when bullied right to his doorstep. Deep down, he felt zero reverence for so-called prestigious clans and noble houses.
Acting all mighty and domineering—what, did the Border Realm bear the surname Lou?
Having carried out what his teacher instructed, he wasted no more breath, turning and wheeling his moped toward the fissure.
Yet he had taken only a few steps when cries of shock came from ahead.
“It’s open! It’s open! The pathway to the Border Realm is—”
Before the words finished, the brilliance inside the rift surged violently, erupting outward in an instant. Wherever it passed, a ferocious gravitational pull manifested, engulfing everyone within reach.
Before he could even react, Ji Jue was swept off his feet, sucked into the vortex alongside the crowd...
“Brother Ji Jue, watch out!”
At the critical moment, An Ran’s voice rang out. The disabled boy thrust his hand forward, a cord shooting from his sleeve to wrap around Ji Jue, binding him and Little Niuma together.
In the next instant, a torrent of blazing light swallowed the entire camp.
After a moment of dead silence, the light vanished without a trace, and the fissure returned to its former state. The opening that had just appeared snapped shut again, lingering in its original dormant form, no longer responding to anyone’s calls.
Yet more than half the crowd remained in the camp, staring blankly at one another in bewilderment.
When a Border Realm opened in the past, was it not like a tunnel—a doorway that stayed open for a prolonged period?
Why had it gone spastic this time, violently sucking in a batch of people before going completely inert?
It just slammed the door shut?!
As a result, more than half the people had not made it in at all, stranded outside.
Turmoil erupted among the crowd, quickly followed by terrified screams.
Only now did anyone notice the figures sprawled in the mud as if they had merely fallen... but those people had long since ceased breathing.
Blood and spiritus had vanished entirely.
All that remained were withered, shriveled, hunched corpses.
Like husks left behind after being sucked dry...
Dead silence fell abruptly.
When someone worked up the courage to reach out and turn over those remains, they finally saw the despair etched on the faces of the deceased, who had not even known what was happening before they died, their features twisted into grotesque masks.
And right on their foreheads was a chilling emblem that made everyone's skin crawl.
A cruel single eye flanked by grotesque, unfurled wings.
The Dragon Cult!
Within the Dragon Cult, there was only one person who would drain their victims completely dry and deliberately leave behind such gruesome remains:
A Celestial Chosen of the Heart Pivot lineage who had reached the Regeneration rank years ago.
—Shepherd Formless!
It was not until two hours later, in the early hours before dawn, that the Haizhou authorities received an alert from the Chaocheng Security Bureau:
A key member of the terrorist organization Nirvana—a group intent on overturning the international order—codenamed 'White Owl,' had infiltrated the borders five hours prior. Their whereabouts were unknown.
Accompanying the alert was a wanted poster bearing a bounty of ninety-one million.
On the front of the poster, the photo showed only a bloodstained owl mask, gazing coldly out at the world.
Voracious and insatiable.
Chapter 61