The Painted Screen

Seeing his demeanor, Li Xuanfeng frowned slightly. Observing that Si Yuanli was flying at extreme speed without the slightest trace of vigilance, he pondered inwardly: *Does this man possess some hidden reliance that makes him this confident, or has he lived under the shelter of a True Person for so long that he is simply naive, careless, and devoid of wariness?* The members of the Si family were modest and restrained within the sect. Li Xuanfeng had rarely encountered them and had never interacted with Si Yuanli before, nor had he heard his name. He only feared that this was a reckless man who would ultimately bring ruin upon himself. He followed closely behind, holding his golden bow in hand. His tiger-like eyes swept around, his ocular technique running, taking in the scenery across the lake. The two had flown for merely a dozen breaths when they soon caught sight of a hazy azure palace rising above the water, where a glimmer of golden light hovered faintly overhead. "A Shakya cultivator!" The golden radiance of a Shakya cultivator was unmistakable. Si Yuanli recognized it at a glance, disgust rising across his face. Turning toward Li Xuanfeng, he said in a low voice, "Brother Xuanfeng, do not let him beat us to it!" Naturally, Li Xuanfeng was not afraid of offending a Shakya cultivator. The golden string hummed, and a golden arrow sprang from his waist. Crisp and decisive, he condensed his stellar qi, the bowstring buzzing with power. The moment he released his fingers, the distant golden light exploded like ruffled feathers, showering a storm of flower petals. "What evil fiend are you, daring to harm this old monk with wicked arts?!" With a cold shout, the golden light leaped into the air. In an instant, Li Xuanfeng and Si Yuanli arrived. Li Xuanfeng cast his gaze over, meeting the cold eyes of the old monk enveloped in golden light, and raised his golden bow to point straight at him. The monk’s eyes had been dark and sullen, wrath blazing from both pupils, but the moment they collided with Li Xuanfeng's frosty glare, his tone instantly softened. In the blink of an eye, that fierce expression transformed into sheer terror. "This old monk... I..." He ducked into the golden light and fled as fast as his legs could carry him, leaving behind a trail of floral rain, clearly so pressed that he could not even conceal his wounds. The radiance on Li Xuanfeng’s string slowly dispersed. There would surely be countless fights ahead, and he had no desire to waste further magic power on this scoundrel. Si Yuanli cast him a sideways glance, pausing for a full breath before saying, "Brother Xuanfeng, please..." The two descended together and halted before the palace. Si Yuanli merely flicked his sleeve to push open the hall doors. In the center of the hall stood a large table surrounded by several jade chairs, luxurious and elegant, encircling an antique incense burner that was spotless and clean. Si Yuanli paused for a moment, then briskly strode forward along the water veranda. Li Xuanfeng watched as his spiritual sense rapidly swept through the entire palace. One artifact after another leaped into the air and flew toward his storage bag, streaking ribbons of vibrant light across the air; missing not a single one, he stuffed them all into his bag with single-minded eagerness. Si Yuanli stowed them away with a flick of his hand. Without lingering, the two took to the wind together, speeding toward the center. The lake scenery fled rapidly beneath their feet. After flying for another dozen breaths or so, another palace appeared ahead. This palace was smaller than the previous one, yet Si Yuanli was full of enthusiasm, taking the lead to descend upon the wind. Li Xuanfeng had no choice but to follow. A hasty sweep of his spiritual sense through the hall confirmed it was indeed completely bare. Seeing the regret etched on Si Yuanli's face, Li Xuanfeng said in a low voice, "Fellow Daoist, there is no need for this. These palaces have clearly already been visited by others. It is truly unwise to delay any longer; we should head straight toward the central cliff. If we drag this out, I fear there will be nothing left for us." Si Yuanli took to the wind alongside him, showing a touch of reluctance and concern. Only after a few breaths did he nod and sigh, "Fellow Daoist speaks the truth! Let us press forward quickly!" From what Li Xuanfeng had observed along the way, he had come to understand that whether due to changes in heaven and earth, the intervention of Purple Palaces, or some other complication, none of the formations within Daning Palace were active. They had all been reduced to mere ornaments, allowing the cultivators to come and go freely as if strolling through their own back gardens. *This is truly comfortable—far beyond comparison to Qingsong Abbey's Mirage Mirror Sky.* The direct lineages of each family had their own means, and the Purple Palaces had already smoothed out the road. The true crux lay in the struggle between the cultivators themselves. That cliff was the center of Daning Palace and the most pivotal location in the entire immortal palace. Yet as Li Xuanfeng looked up, the lights upon the cliff were still few and far between—barely enough to count on one hand, and dim at that. A few arrows would be enough to settle the matter. Although Si Yuanli kept looking forward, he covertly observed Li Xuanfeng's expression, lost in thought. In an instant, the two streaks of light drew long flaming tails through the air, shooting straight toward the cliff. Li Xuanfeng drew his bow and descended with Si Yuanli. Sweeping his spiritual sense across the mountain, he saw azure palaces everywhere. He chose a nearby hall to touch down, and Si Yuanli hurried behind him, finally showing a hint of caution. Four great cauldrons were arranged around the array eye in the hall, all billowing white mist. Treasures were laid out in splendor alongside magnificent jade seats. High above the hall stood a massive, exquisitely carved immortal throne, flanked by six bronze square cauldrons heaped with various spiritual materials. Before the steps, two square cauldrons had already been knocked over, lying askew. A glittering array of treasures had rolled out with tinkling clatters, radiating a dazzling, intoxicating colorful glow that made it hard to keep one's eyes open. Only when Li Xuanfeng stepped into the hall did a sudden wave of crisp coldness meet him, accompanied by a rich rush of spiritual mechanism. The array eye in the center gushed spiritual energy so thick it had condensed into Taiqing spiritual energy, tumbling outward in a sea of pure white. Si Yuanli followed close behind, his expression tense. The longsword in his hand shimmered with overflowing light, held almost flush against his armor, his gaze fixed hungrily on the four great cauldrons at the center. Several cultivators already stood confronting one another in the hall. Li Xuanfeng, however, did not fix his eyes upon them; his gaze swept swiftly over them and landed straight upon the painted folding screen behind the immortal throne. The screen gave off a subtle azure glow, forged entirely from dark, somber blackish-green material, its borders etched with intricate talismanic patterns. In all, there were nine panels, obstructing spiritual sense and concealing whatever lay behind. The screen seemed to possess a peculiar allure that seized his gaze, making it difficult to look away. The nine panels interconnected to form the depiction of a grand hall, visually dizzying. Before Li Xuanfeng could examine it closely, the overwhelming familiarity of the grand hall held his eyes captive. At that moment, a shock went through Li Xuanfeng's mind as he finally realized where this familiarity came from. He had plainly seen the scenery outside that hall before—the black-green Chongyuan Great Wind, the pine forest that seemed to gently sway within the wind... *Chongming Hall! The painted screen depicts the Three Sons of Chongming!* This intense sense of familiarity stirred a throb in his chest. Though he had never seen it before, its archaic design carried an innate resonance. His gaze followed the panels to the very last one, which depicted the scenery outside the hall: a man standing outside, listening intently. Depicted upon it was an armored man, holding an exotic beast in each hand as he looked back, exuding a heroic aura. At the very end was an inscription: *“The Emperor of Liang Founds the State, Presented to Brother Jiang.”* *“Chen Xuanli.”* There was even a familiar name! Li Xuanfeng instantly gained some insight into this person's character. He raised his hand, then quickly withdrew his gaze and casually swept his eyes across the hall. The cultivators in the hall turned toward him one after another, draped in gloomy demonic qi, spreading true fire, or shimmering with Shakya light, their eyes locking fiercely upon him. Li Xuanfeng's gray eyes narrowed slightly as his gaze swept across them mercilessly, paying no heed to their warning looks. He stepped forward with unyielding grandeur and entered the hall, holding his bow in one hand and keeping the other behind his back. Li Xuanfeng met them with cold defiance. He gripped his golden bow without offering them a single word. Golden brilliance flowed as four golden arrows leaped onto the golden string simultaneously. The piercing hum echoed throughout the grand hall, stunning every cultivator into utter silence. Li Xuanfeng narrowed his eyes slightly. White-gold markings suddenly illuminated beneath his chin, flowing down across his chest to form the concise and graceful runes of Tianjin Qi. His eyes also shimmered with subtle brilliance as he observed them with a focused mind. Earlier, Li Xuanfeng had obliterated Murong Wu's body and soul within a quarter of an hour, shattered Yuqian's Dharma body, and torn a demon beast apart by hand, raining blood from the heavens—an exploit that had already shaken the northern demonic cultivators. Later, he had forcefully slain Tang Shedu, who had entered the Shakya path, propelling his renown to its absolute peak. Several of the demonic cultivators had never met him in person, yet they had heard his name and knew he was a terrifying figure whom they dared not cross. Seeing his attire and sensing his formidable presence, the various demonic and Shakya cultivators grew increasingly wary. The gazes initially cast toward him shifted away one by one, looking toward each other as if nothing had happened. The standoff in the hall hung in deadlock until someone finally spoke. The speaker wore a dark red robe and held a horse-lance in his hands—it was Gao Fangjing of the True Fire lineage. Gao Fangjing glanced around, the true fire upon his body burning intensely, and finally broke the silence: "There is no need for everyone to drag this out. More and more cultivators will only arrive. If you delay any longer, no matter how powerful you are, how much can you truly seize? And at what cost in injuries? "Now that Fellow Daoist Xuanfeng has arrived, there happen to be eight of us here. Why not pair off in duels and take one cauldron each?" As his voice fell, he raised the horse-lance in his hand high and smiled. Before his words could finish echoing, brilliance erupted across the hall. Li Xuanfeng stepped forward, reaching toward the nearest great cauldron. Raising an eyebrow slightly, he found that not a single person dared to vie with him for it. Li Xuanfeng saw it clearly as one hand pulled the great cauldron over. The cauldron possessed a deep bronze hue, warm to the touch, and covered in soaring dragons and dancing birds and beasts. Li Xuanfeng weighed the cauldron. Not only was the lid clamped tight and immovable, but even his spiritual sense could not penetrate it. It silently radiated a profound luster, as though containing a world of its own, unable to be placed inside a storage bag. He held little interest in this cauldron. After all, no matter how extraordinary the contents within, nine times out of ten it would not end up in his own clan's hands. Si Yuanli's eyes, however, were glued to it. Li Xuanfeng casually passed the cauldron to him, whispering, "Stay close behind me! Make haste to collect the treasures, and let us quickly move forward..." Si Yuanli nodded frantically, satisfaction almost leaping from his face. How could he possibly refuse? He mumbled under his breath, "Fellow Daoist's noble righteousness is immense! I will certainly speak highly of you before our ancestor, and there will surely be a handsome reward once we leave the grotto-heaven!" "It will be enough if Fellow Daoist can protect yourself." These words were stated plain and clear, completely disregarding Si Yuanli's capabilities. Si Yuanli choked in silence, while Li Xuanfeng merely extended an arm to shield him. Nearby, two demonic cultivators exchanged glances and suddenly lashed out. One unleashed rolling purple qi while the other sent demonic smoke billowing upward, surrounding Gao Fangjing—clad in true fire—with a thunderous roar. One of the demonic cultivators besieging Gao Fangjing cultivated none other than Purple Qi: Murong Gong, with whom Gao Fangjing had briefly crossed swords some days prior. His form was concealed within the purple clouds, releasing a burst of demonic light. "Murong, you old dog, you have always been despicable and shameless! I knew you had this in store!" Gao Fangjing laughed out of sheer fury, the horse-lance in his hand blazing like a scalding spirit flame as it unleashed dazzling fire. A deep roar erupted from his throat: "Hahahaha!" Several outstanding Foundation Establishment figures clashed within the hall, triggering tremendous roars. Golden light, black light, immortal qi, and demonic qi intertwined and surged forth, yet the grand hall stood firm as a mountain, without so much as a tremor. Following their clashes, massive booms echoed almost simultaneously from the distance, triggering a chain reaction across the entire Daning Palace. Where all had been as tranquil as still water moments ago, cultivators locked in silent standoff erupted in unison, distorting the spiritual mechanisms in complete bedlam. *Rumble!* Perhaps provoked by the barrage of demonic and magical brilliance, the dark, somber blackish-green painted screen grew even more muted, shifting toward the weathered shade of bronze patina. It stood steadfast behind the hall, unmoved by the surging aftershocks of magic power. Li Xuanfeng examined it with interest and casually reached out to take it. Si Yuanli happened to finish gathering the treasures in the hall and hurried over, his eyes fixing on the object in Li Xuanfeng's hands. "That is..." Suddenly, a figure appeared, quietly blocking the way before him. The burly man had slender eyebrows, a completely shaven head, and a golden kasaya draped over his shoulders. His eyes turned toward them, and he said softly, "Excellent. Benefactor... "This monk has long heard benefactor's name and yearned to meet, yet the hand of karmic mandate is fickle, repeatedly denying us an encounter... Now, at last, I have awaited benefactor."