Lost for 100,000 Years

On the distant horizon.

Mei Xian'er toyed with the mahjong tiles in her hand, her gaze lost in thought as she stared at the far-off sea.

"Hmph, how could such a little beast exist in this world?"

"I've seen fools who fear nothing, but never one so eager to seek death..."

Her red lips murmured, betraying her indignation.

Just then, as if sensing something, she snapped out of her reverie and hurried to the window, looking up at the sky.

It was broad daylight.

Yet, amidst the clouds, a single star emerged, growing brighter with each passing moment.

At this sight, Mei Xian'er was utterly shocked, her eyes filled with disbelief.

What she did next left everyone astounded.

The esteemed captain of the Eighth Line actually dropped to her knees, raising her head toward the star in the sky with a look of devout reverence.

Soon, a second and third star appeared...

Then a fifth, a sixth...

Until finally, seven stars shimmered in the sky.

Their light gradually connected, forming the celestial phenomenon known as the "Seven Stars Alignment."

Kneeling on the ground, Mei Xian'er trembled slightly, her face pale with astonishment as she whispered,

"Heavens, the Seven Stars Alignment."

"It's actually the Seven Stars Alignment."

"The highest summons from the Cloud Star Linglong Pavilion's headquarters!!!"

"What in the world has happened?"

Her beautiful eyes were wide with incredulity.

In all her years, this was the first time the Linglong Pavilion had issued a summons of such magnitude.

"Attendants!"

"Here."

Several subordinates behind her, sensing the gravity of the situation, knelt and shivered.

"Prepare for me—I must bathe and change."

"Then set course for the Teleportation Island at maximum speed."

After giving her orders, Mei Xian'er walked into her chambers, her mind heavy with thoughts.

At the same time, the Eighth Line ship transformed into a streak of light, racing across the sea toward Teleportation Island at a speed never before seen in the Heavenly Domain.

The next day.

Mei Xian'er emerged from a mysterious portal and arrived at the Sacred City.

The Sacred City was bustling with people, yet each kept their head low, not daring to speak loudly or engage in idle chatter.

Clearly.

They were all overseers of the Linglong Pavilion, stationed across the various regions of Cloud Star, summoned by the Seven Stars Alignment to gather in the Sacred City.

At the center of the Sacred City lay a vast plaza.

Upon it were arranged countless glowing meditation cushions.

As soon as Mei Xian'er stepped onto the plaza, she felt a pull—one of the cushions seemed to call to her. She quickly approached and settled onto it in a meditative pose.

Others arriving at the plaza did the same, each finding their designated cushion and sitting down.

As time passed, the once-empty plaza gradually filled.

Finally, when the last cushion was occupied, not a single figure remained moving in the Sacred City.

Despite the sheer size of the plaza and the multitude of powerful figures present, not a sound could be heard—not even the faintest breath.

In the silence of anticipation, a sound finally broke through.

Creak... creak...

The sound of a wheelchair.

Pushed by an attendant, a middle-aged man seated in the wheelchair appeared at the head of the plaza.

When the wheelchair came to a stop, the assembled experts below bowed their heads in unison.

"Chief Manager."

"What 'Chief Manager'? How many times must I tell you—call me Manager! Manager! Can't you understand?" the man in the wheelchair barked irritably. "After all these years, why can't you remember?"

"Yes, Manager."

The crowd responded as one.

"Hmph."

The man seemed satisfied with the address. Nodding, he reached into his robe and pulled out a box emblazoned with the characters "Zhonghua."

From it, he retrieved a cigarette, placing it between his lips.

"I've gathered you all here today to share some good news," he said, striking a match to light the cigarette. After taking a deep drag and exhaling a slow stream of smoke, he continued, "According to reports from our branches across the regions, it seems the ninety-nine Founding Masters—missing for a hundred thousand years—may have returned."

"What?!"

His words sent shockwaves through the crowd.

Many even leapt to their feet in astonishment.

As members of the Linglong Pavilion, they were well-versed in its history and origins.

The Pavilion had been established a hundred thousand years ago by ninety-nine supreme beings.

These ninety-nine were revered as the Founding Masters, figures akin to deities. To join the Linglong Pavilion, one had to study its history and the backgrounds of these ninety-nine masters thoroughly.

Though.

Nearly all present had never laid eyes on the Founding Masters, their reverence for them was unwavering.

For only those within the Linglong Pavilion, who understood its immense power, could truly grasp the greatness of these ninety-nine creators.

Many of the revolutionary operational methods and avant-garde designs unheard of in Cloud Star had originated from them.

For instance, the public transport ships in the Cloud Region—still in use today—were one such legacy.

Over the years, these ships had brought immeasurable wealth to the Linglong Pavilion.

And unlike members of other factions, those in the Linglong Pavilion were not required to charge into battle or engage in bloody conflicts.

Instead, the Pavilion provided them with exceptional benefits.

Such as the "Five Insurances and One Fund."

Outstanding contributors were even rewarded with rare mystical realms as their personal sanctuaries.

Thus, joining the Linglong Pavilion was akin to securing an iron rice bowl—a guarantee of a worry-free cultivation journey.

Of course.

Gaining entry was no easy feat.

The first requirement was a thorough background check—tracing one's lineage eighteen generations back. If any ancestor had been notorious for wicked deeds, no matter how talented the applicant, they would never be admitted.

Additionally, the Linglong Pavilion administered written exams and martial trials.

In the end, only one or two would be selected from thousands of candidates.

It was these strict regulations that had shaped the Linglong Pavilion into the colossal entity it was today.

And all of it—passed down from the Founding Masters.

As their descendants, who among them did not hold them in the highest esteem?

Yet, after establishing the Linglong Pavilion, these ninety-nine masters had vanished simultaneously.

And so they remained.

For a hundred thousand years.