Crisis

As though victory was already within his grasp, the old Daoist leisurely formed an incantation gesture. His left hand radiated a lucid white light as he beamed at him. Li Xiangping held his tongue. Producing a pale-yellow talisman, he slapped it onto his body, instantly raising a pure-white barrier of light, then turned and sprinted toward the lake. The old Daoist was not angered either. He patted the storage bag at his waist, stowed the jade pendant away, and only then smiled pleasantly as he kept pace with Li Xiangping. His small eyes, however, vigilantly tracked his every move as he mused inwardly: *How does that look like a Jade Origin Talisman from the Qingchi Sect? Didn't the two sects reach a tacit understanding long ago? By now, the Qingchi disciples between Lake Wangyue and the Xunlin Plain should have withdrawn.* *No, if he were a Qingchi disciple, why would he need to flee? This man is likely merely connected to the Qingchi Sect. Still, best to be cautious so I don't capsize in a gutter. I'll let him run for now; once his magical power is exhausted, whatever talisman treasures or magical artifacts he has won't be of any use.* Floating leisurely behind Li Xiangping like a phantom, the more the old Daoist thought, the more delighted he grew, nearly chuckling out loud. *Heaven itself is helping me! The Qingchi Sect people have retreated, the Tangjin Sect people are down south scavenging spoils, and this kid has panicked and fled straight north toward Tangjin Sect territory. Looks like this opportunity was destined for my hands.* The more he pondered it, the more excited the old Daoist became, recalling how the heir of the Immortal Mansion had slaughtered in all directions several centuries ago, and remembering his master's dying words. The old Daoist had originally been a rogue cultivator under the dominion of the Tangjin Sect. When his master reached the end of his lifespan, he had passed a jade pendant to him, patting him—then barely twenty years old—and saying: "During the turmoil of the Immortal Mansion heir centuries ago, our lineage took part as well, and this jade pendant was obtained from that man. "That fiend had cultivated a divine ability dharma-body; his flesh, blood, sinew, and bone were all heaven-and-earth treasures. Thus he was torn to shreds by the Three Sects and Seven Gates. Rogue cultivators like us had no chance at a share of the meat, so we could only scramble with vessels to collect the blood that splashed out during the scramble. Amidst that rain of blood, your grandmaster picked up this jade pendant, suffered grave wounds because of it, and passed away soon after returning." Back then, he was still just a young Daoist. He had stared blankly with wide eyes, listening to his master's faint, labored breaths as he weakly spoke: "Your martial uncle and I studied it for over a hundred and thirty years, and gleaned a few clues. There should be an inheritance of the Immortal Mansion within this pendant, only missing another treasure... You... may well go out and search for it..." While the old Daoist was lost in thought, he saw the man ahead abruptly halt. Turning his head, Xiangping fixed him with hawk-like, ferocious eyes, glaring so savagely that it startled the old Daoist into stopping dead in his tracks. Feeling somewhat embarrassed at having been startled, the old Daoist sneered, "What, finally come to your senses?" Li Xiangping sneered in turn, revealing a greenish-gray mirror in his hand. White light flickered across the mirror, and an intense sense of danger rushed straight at the old Daoist's face. "Damn it, he really does have something!" The old Daoist let out a strange cry. In an instant, twelve talismans detonated beside him, raising a glittering golden shield before him as his hands formed seals, rapidly pouring magical power into it. This sequence of maneuvers was smooth as flowing water, taking merely a single breath. The old Daoist usually kept his head down in cultivation and rarely fought with others, so he had diligently practiced this single technique for over thirty years, repeatedly relying on this layering of spells and talismans to save his life. Yet who would have thought that the sense of danger would vanish in an instant? The old Daoist was taken aback, only to see that Li Xiangping had already darted far away like a rabbit. The old Daoist realized what had happened. Cursing viciously, he dismissed the spell in his hands and sneered, "Quite a few little tricks, haven't you?" Lightly tapping his foot, he closed the distance like a phantom, but then saw Li Xiangping reveal the mirror once more, its white light shining blazing bright upon him. The sense of danger rushed straight at him. Having lived by craven caution for years, he brought forth twelve talismans once again without hesitation, erecting a dazzling golden shield. "Fool!" A mocking scoff came from ahead. Even with the even temper cultivated over his many years of practice, an uncontrollable fury flared within the old Daoist. Several beams of golden light gathered in his hands, and waving aside the great shield, he prepared to strike Li Xiangping dead with a spell. Yet the moment the shield dissipated, the old Daoist's pupils reflected a vast, magnificent torrent of pure, flawless white light. *** Li Xuanxuan paced restlessly around the courtyard. Patriarch Li Xiangping had been gone all night, and the men stationed at Lidaokou reported that they had seen no white light or anomaly whatsoever. "It was agreed that he would unleash the Taiyin Mysterious Light and immediately withdraw home. The whole thing shouldn't have taken more than a few hours!" Watching the morning light slowly rise, the unease in Li Xuanxuan's heart grew heavier and heavier, nearly driving him to bolt out the door and rush to the Wan family to investigate. Last night, the streaks of golden light flashing across the eastern sky had extinguished in merely fifteen minutes. Facing the night wind, Li Xuanxuan had stood alone atop Mount Lijing all night, quietly clenching his fists. *If it is the worst-case scenario...* His eyes reddened slightly as name after name surfaced in his mind. "Li Yesheng, Li Qiuyang, Chen Erniu..." Li Tongya was still at Guanyun Peak, and Li Xiangping was unaccounted for, dead or alive. Now, the only person of the direct line left to manage the Li family was thirteen-year-old Li Xuanxuan. Below him, Li Xuanfeng was merely seven, and Li Xuanling was only five. "Young Patriarch!" A low call startled Li Xuanxuan. When the boy looked up, his face was already arranged in a warm, gentle smile as he asked, "Uncle Yesheng? What is it?" "Subordinate has searched Meichi Mountain and Mount Lijing several times, yet cannot find the Patriarch..." Stroking his beard, Li Yesheng lowered his brow and spoke in a deep voice. He too had seen the golden light on the horizon last night and had intended to report it to Li Xiangping, but after coming and going twice, he couldn't find any trace of Li Xiangping. "Uncle had a sudden revelation last night and has entered secluded cultivation to prepare for a breakthrough," Li Xuanxuan explained with a gentle smile, looking straight into Li Yesheng's eyes. "So that's how it is!" Li Yesheng realized, chuckling. "Is the Patriarch in secluded cultivation in the backyard of Mount Lijing this time?" Li Xuanxuan's heart skipped a beat, but his expression did not waver as he replied, "Indeed." Li Yesheng nodded, deftly steered the conversation away, and took his leave after reporting the village affairs of recent days to Li Xuanxuan. Seeing Li Yesheng leave the mountain, Li Xuanxuan slowly sat down in the main seat of the courtyard. Sitting upright in the vast, empty courtyard, he gazed somberly toward the horizon. Down the mountain. Li Yesheng hurried into his courtyard, untied his outer robe, and handed it to the servant hurrying to greet him, frowning as he called out, "Li Xiewen!" Seeing no response after waiting, Li Yesheng remembered that Li Xiewen had already been dispatched to Lidaokou by Li Xiangping. Looking at the several people gathering around him in the courtyard, Li Yesheng took the teacup handed to him and sat down in the courtyard's head seat, asking in a grave voice, "Has there been any movement from Li Qiuyang?" "None." Taking a light sip of tea, Li Yesheng furrowed his brow tightly and asked in a low voice, "Has the Wan family sent anyone to request aid today?" "Reporting to the Manager, not yet." Li Yesheng's expression instantly grew grave. Looking at the men standing before him, he lowered his brow and asked in a voice barely audible, "Has the main branch... sent anyone to... take control of the clan militia?" Seeing the men below shake their heads one after another, Li Yesheng let out a long breath, and a faint smile appeared on his face. "I was overthinking things."