"A letter has arrived from the Xiao clan."
An Siwei held out a pale cyan note with both hands. Li Qinghong took it, finding it supple and soft beneath her fingers, just like silk cloth.
‘Even their correspondence uses spirit fabric... The Xiaos are indeed an immortal clan.’
An Siwei bowed and withdrew. Li Qinghong unfolded the small letter and read:
‘Guitu respectfully states: The Liao River lies in the Liao region of Northern Yan. The Xiao clan knows little of it, and we have never heard of the Liaohe Temple. We know only that the Liao region is bitterly cold and that Buddhism originated there. Ascetics abound, their doctrines and scriptures are the strictest, practitioners often fail to even enter the path, and there are no masters of great divine abilities.’
‘Present-day Shakya cultivators cultivate the Seven Aspects, which differs vastly from the ways of the Liao region.’
"Northern Yan."
Li Qinghong put the letter away, stroking the shaft of her spear. Suddenly, the mountain's grand formation rippled, and a youth clad in black stepped through, landing on the mountain crest.
"Qinghong."
"Brother!"
Seeing Li Yuanjiao drop straight down, Li Qinghong knew he must have brought the mirror. She handed over the small note. Li Yuanjiao's expression darkened as he read it, and he said in a low voice, "Let us go down the mountain and meet him."
The two rode the wind out through the grand formation. The monk was shouldering a trunk of redwood, using his bare hand like a blade to cleave it into several planks, which he carefully polished. Wood shavings littered the ground, slowly drifting in the wind.
Seeing a man and woman alight at the foot of the mountain—the black-robed man somber and austere, the white-clad woman valiant and spirited—Kongheng laid down the redwood and hurriedly rose to his feet.
"This humble monk, Kongheng, greets the Daoists!"
Li Yuanjiao's expression remained placid as he replied, "I am Li Yuanjiao. If Master has a request, you may speak it."
Kongheng bowed and said, "I am unworthy of the title of Master. This humble monk has journeyed here merely hoping to lodge for a time as a guest elder."
Li Yuanjiao chuckled, staring into Kongheng's calm, clear, small eyes, and spoke with polite detachment:
"An eminent monk hailing from a great temple is far above our modest, humble home. I fear we would only neglect you. Half a month's journey to the east lies the immortal Xiao clan. Why not try your luck there?"
Kongheng shook his head helplessly and could only reply, "This humble monk hopes to cultivate for a time within your noble clan's domain. If there is anything within my power, please do not hesitate to command me, Daoist."
Seeing him obstinately refuse to take the hint, Li Yuanjiao paused in frustration. Behind him, Li Qinghong raised her slender brows and said, her words laced with firm resolve beneath a soft tone, "Monk, if you don't make your purpose clear, how would my family dare keep you?"
Kongheng lowered his head and cast his gaze downward, answering, "This humble monk has a tribulation that must be fulfilled through your noble clan. Almsgiver, please rest assured, I do not cultivate the Seven Aspects..."
Before he could finish his cryptic explanation, and before Li Qinghong and Li Yuanjiao could press him further, a thunderous boom erupted at the horizon.
Rumble!
Dark black clouds leaped up from the town, followed by a chorus of shrieks. The cloud churned rapidly through the streets and alleys, surging outward as several bursts of arrogant, malicious laughter echoed through the air.
A surge of heat rose in Li Yuanjiao's chest. His expression turned grim as he shouted, "Demonic cultivators!"
With a flick of his wrist, a talisman flew from his sleeve, soaring into the sky and bursting into a deep-red flare. Within moments, the grand formations across the five mountains of the Li clan activated one after another, multicolored barriers manifesting amidst the peaks.
His hand rested on the Qingchi Sword, suspicion instantly flaring in his mind. His gaze lingered for a beat on the monk's equally startled face as he thought warily:
‘Shakya cultivators have always excelled at divination and scheming. Why did demonic cultivators appear the moment this Kongheng arrived? Could this be intentional, some scheme of his?’
His gaze lingered for only a brief instant before a loud shout rang out:
"Hahaha! You react quickly enough!"
The foremost plume of demonic qi rushed straight toward them. From within the mist came a shrill, rough cry, accompanied by drifting wisps of cotton-like white vapor and shifting silhouettes.
A black-clad demonic cultivator strode forward, his cultivation at the peak of Qi Refinement. Before even planting his feet before Li Yuanjiao, he threw a palm strike forward, laughing:
"Where is that rat Li Xuanxuan? He made a fool of me, and today, I, Qiu, have come to settle the score!"
Li Yuanjiao had long heard Li Xuanxuan recount what transpired in the market. He realized who this was at once, his heart tightening. He knew the man practiced an extraordinary cultivation method—this white vapor ground away flesh and blood, making it exceptionally difficult to deal with.
The Qingchi Sword leaped from its scabbard, its chilling sword arc detonating with a roar. Sword qi collided with the white vapor, grinding away several strands before driving directly toward the Qiu cultivator's face.
"A Foundation Establishment dharma artifact?!"
Seeing his usually invincible spell thwarted, the demonic cultivator was not alarmed but overjoyed. He burst into laughter, greed immediately welling in his eyes. Shattering the oncoming sword qi with a single palm, he chuckled:
"A sword immortal family does not disappoint! Even Qi Refinement cultivators carry Foundation Establishment dharma artifacts—truly lavish!"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than a roar of thunder split the air.
Boom!
Li Qinghong had struck without a word. The Duruo Spear burst through the sky, carrying the clear, violet silhouette of a swimming dragon, crashing down with immense weight. White vapor converged in the Qiu cultivator's palm as he struck the side of the spear shaft, producing a violent blast.
"Another Foundation Establishment dharma artifact!"
When enemies meet, fury blazes red. Li Qinghong's younger brother, Li Yuanyun, had died by this very man's hand. Her face was grim and silent, but she poured all her strength into her strikes, her spearmanship fluid and unrelenting, unleashing a barrage upon him.
The Qiu demonic cultivator had no idea the mortal he had casually slain was her brother, yet he could see the profound hatred etched on the female cultivator's face. Parrying her offensive, he sneered contemptuously:
"Do you truly think I am one of those useless runaways brewed up by the Xuemo Dharma Book who can only flee and cannot fight? What can mere lightning do to me? If you cast a proper spell, I might fear you three parts..."
Though he talked big, fighting Li Qinghong was actually giving him a headache. With Li Yuanjiao pressing in with his sword from the flank, he was forced to endure the onslaught of both, reduced entirely to defending himself.
Yet he was not the only demonic cultivator who had come. Several more figures emerged from the rolling demonic smoke, all wrapped in circulating red and black light, laughing insolently.
"Lord Qiu, they are just brats at the seventh and sixth layers of Qi Refinement. Can they truly trouble you, sir?"
Among these demonic cultivators, a man at the sixth layer of Qi Refinement held a gleaming red dharma mirror. He leaped forward, laughing mockingly as he skirted the three locked in combat, leading his companions to slam a palm down on Mount Yuting.
The grand formation on Mount Yuting was a legacy left behind by the An family. Its power was only mediocre among Qi Refinement arrays; it rippled like water, waves spreading under their collective assault.
The five men wielded hammers, mirrors, heavy shields, and one even held a rare treasure pagoda—none of which were weapons meant for breaching formations. For the moment, their strikes only made the array shimmer like water, eliciting no further collapse.
Under the pincer attack of the siblings, the pressure on the Qiu cultivator surged. Seeing this display, he barked in fury:
"Damn you, Zhang Huaide! I'm fighting for my life here, and you run off to attack the formation! If we join forces to kill these two first and split their treasures, wouldn't that be better? What an absolute fool!"
Zhang Huaide shrugged indifferently and said with a smile, "Boss, just wait a moment. Once I breach this formation, I'll turn back to help you!"
Demonic cultivators were driven by profit and banded together only for gain. With the fat prize of Mount Yuting right before their eyes, none of them wanted to gnaw on those two tough bones. Naturally, they intended to carve up Mount Yuting while he had his hands full.
‘Even though that Li Chijing and Li Tongya died one after another, a man's name is like the shadow of a tree. Who knows how many trump cards this Li clan still keeps hidden?’
Zhang Huaide's abacus clattered briskly in his mind. He sneered, thinking to himself:
‘Plundering some wealth is fine, but if we corner these two and they unleash some divine ability talisman, talisman sword, or jade order, crushing small demonic cultivators like us would be as easy as stepping on ants...’
Zhang Huaide practiced secret arts and possessed extraordinary perception. The moment he laid eyes on the Qingchi Sword in Li Yuanjiao's hand, a chill had crept between his brows. He had already resolved to retreat, thinking only of grabbing what he could and running.
As these thoughts crossed his mind, several streaks of light rose in the distance, tearing across the sky. Leading the way was a man with a gleaming bald head, clad in fur robes, bellowing furiously:
"Insignificant demonic scum, how dare you invade our immortal mountain! Do you wish to test the sharpness of our immortal blades?!"
This man was none other than An Zheyan, currently at the eighth layer of Qi Refinement, drenched in cold sweat from anxiety. His sons, An Siming and An Siwei, were trapped within the Mount Yuting array. Without a second thought, he hurled a barrage of spells forward.
Zhang Huaide showed no hesitation. With a hand seal, a beam of blood-red dharma light shot forth, forcefully neutralizing the incoming spells. He laughed mockingly:
"Laughable! All that cultivation for nothing!"
An Zheyan was already at the eighth layer of Qi Refinement while Zhang Huaide was only at the sixth. Yet the Xuemo Dharma Book was profound, and coupled with Zhang Huaide's mastery of numerous secret techniques, the two instantly fell into a heated clash.
Li Xuanxuan followed closely behind, his expression tense, gripping a great battleaxe. He was at the seventh layer of Qi Refinement, his attire marking him as a core clan cultivator, and trailing behind him was an old monkey at the fourth layer of Qi Refinement—making for a rather intimidating sight.
The demonic cultivators below exchanged glances. One at the fifth layer of Qi Refinement braced himself to intercept him. After clashing for a few moves, his anxious expression morphed into derision as he said, "And here I thought he was some great figure!"
The next two streaks of light brought the Tian uncle and nephew along with Xu Gongming to reinforce them. All three were in the early stage of Qi Refinement, barely managing to hold off a single early Qi Refinement demonic cultivator.
The remaining two demonic cultivators looked at each other. Seeing that Mount Yuting could not be breached quickly, they abandoned the formation without hesitation and charged together toward the Tian uncle and nephew.
"Sigh!"
Kongheng, who had been left behind on the ground, let out a deep sigh. He planted his monk's staff firmly into the earth, and though a mere monk, he rode the wind into the air, golden light radiating from both his hands as he lamented:
"Almsgivers, do not create more karma of slaughter!"
The bronze rings on his staff chimed crisply as it spun with blinding speed, enveloping the two demonic cultivators within its reach, waves of golden light pouring from his hands.
The two demonic cultivators were frightened out of their wits, crying out:
"A Master?!"
Shakya cultivators were unlike immortal cultivators; only upon reaching the rank of Master could they ride the wind, their strength comparable to the mid Foundation Establishment stage. Terrified, the two unleashed their blood light and scrambled to put distance between them.
Yet the golden light merely repelled their blood light. The two blinked in surprise, realizing the truth at once. One of them, holding a heavy shield, shouted in a northern drawl:
"I was wonderin' how you could fly and thought you were a Master, turns out you're just ridin' a dharma artifact!"
The other, who looked remarkably similar, cursed loudly, "You... you idiot! The master told us to speak the standard tongue!"
Their booming voices caught Kongheng off guard. His narrow eyes widened slightly in surprise. "Men of Zhao State!"
The two charged back with their dharma artifacts. Kongheng hastily raised his monk's staff to parry, forced backward step by step. The shield-bearer spoke up again:
"A-gan! We can't go makin' an enemy of the Buddha!"
The other man, holding the treasure pagoda, grunted and remained silent, but his strikes eased up slightly. Kongheng originally only had the strength to barely hold off one opponent, yet now, trading blows while falling back, he managed to maintain a stalemate.
"A pair of useless trash!"
Zhang Huaide heard every word and could not help spitting curses, driving An Zheyan into steady retreat. Meanwhile, the Qiu cultivator's attacks grew ever more vicious, yet he could not shake off the two siblings.
Li Yuanjiao and Li Qinghong had rarely fought side by side, and their coordination had been slightly stiff at first. But as the battle wore on, their teamwork grew seamless. Li Qinghong's lightning arts broke evil, while Li Yuanjiao's sword qi was razor-sharp; their advantage became increasingly pronounced.
The Qiu cultivator felt powerless. His method was meant to corrode dharma artifacts and flesh, granting him an unbroken streak of victories over the years. Yet against these two Qi Refinement cultivators, both held Foundation Establishment dharma artifacts that his arts could not erode in the slightest, leaving him utterly humiliated.
He swept his gaze across the battlefield, and his anxiety eased. Their side held the upper hand in every other skirmish. He dug his heels in to pin down the siblings, sneering:
"So what? Spear force and sword qi are inferior methods after all. How could they ever break my arts!"
No sooner had the words left his mouth than three more streaks of light approached from afar: Xiao Guiluan and Lady Dou, accompanied by the newly recruited guest elder, Li Qilang.
Li Qilang was at the third layer of Qi Refinement, looking honest and simple as he dutifully followed behind. Xiao Guiluan swept her phoenix eyes over the field and commanded decisively:
"Save the Tians first!"
The cultivation method practiced by Tian Zhongqing and his nephew was poor to begin with, and they lacked superior dharma artifacts or arts. The demonic cultivator they faced possessed formidable spells, forcing them into a desperate retreat, their lives hanging by a thread.
Tian Zhongqing had just taken a direct blow from the demonic cultivator's warhammer. His internal organs burned like fire, blood spilled from his lips, his face flushed crimson, and his hands trembled as he barely managed to squeeze out:
"Thank you!"
With three more joining the fray, the tide turned in an instant. Xiao Guiluan practiced the Xiao family's third-grade cultivation method, and the silk ribbon dharma artifact in her hands moved with formidable poise. Joining forces, they battered the demonic cultivator until he cried out for help.
Seeing this, Zhang Huaide could hold back no longer. With a spell, he slapped An Zheyan aside, raised the blood-gleaming mirror high, and channeled his magic power, brewing a beam of red light.
Bang!
A bolt of purple lightning streaked horizontally across the sky, forcefully knocking down the spell he was gathering.
It turned out that while they were delayed, Shamoli, who had been far off in Eastern Shanyue, had also arrived. Now at the fourth layer of Qi Refinement, he wielded lightning, swiftly turning to reinforce An Zheyan.
Zhang Huaide grew frantic. Bolstered by the demon-breaking lightning, An Zheyan's crumbling defense suddenly found room to breathe, becoming even harder to breach.
"Zhang Mutong! Move faster!"
Spurred by Zhang Huaide's shout, Zhang Mutong—the mid Qi Refinement demonic cultivator who had been suppressing Li Xuanxuan and the old monkey—also grew anxious. He cast several spells in rapid succession, blood-red light swirling through the air.
Yet though Li Xuanxuan looked on the verge of collapse, coughing blood with every breath, he somehow held his ground stubbornly. Instead, it was Zhang Mutong who momentarily lost his breath, taking a heavy strike to the back from the old monkey's cudgel, prompting Zhang Huaide to curse him as a bird-brained fool.
On the other side, seeing the situation stabilize, Li Qinghong exchanged a glance with her brother. Li Yuanjiao understood at once, thrusting his sword forward to draw the enemy's attention, while Li Qinghong formed a hand seal, summoning a flash of violet light.
"Purple Talisman Origin Light Secret Method!"
This was one of the two secret techniques from the Purple Lightning Secret Origin Method. Its original name had been lost, but after studying it for years and gradually mastering its subtleties, Li Qinghong had named it herself.
She brought her slender hands together, gently rubbing them to coax forth a dense wisp of violet light, before tracing runes into the void.
Seeing this display, the Qiu cultivator was horrified. Clapping his hands together, he thrust out billowing waves of white vapor, yelling:
"Damn it, this wench is getting serious! Zhang Huaide! Stop holding back!"
Zhang Huaide's expression turned somber. Smoothing the robes over his chest, his sleeves fluttered without any wind, billows of blood light surging from his body as he shouted gravely:
"Fellow Daoists! Protect me!"
Chapter 363