A Sack Fell from the Sky

The Nine Realms.

Yi Feng was feeling rather restless.

He had been in the Nine Realms for quite some time now, yet he had neither found any trace of the White Emperor nor uncovered any leads about the White Emperor’s relatives.

This left him momentarily lost, forcing him to wander around teahouses and taverns—places bustling with gossip—hoping to catch even the slightest hint of useful information.

Just then, on the upper floor of the tavern, a man in purple robes was vividly recounting the romantic exploits of his young master.

A crowd had gathered around him, listening with rapt attention.

This wasn’t surprising. The White Emperor had attained sainthood through the Dao of Love, and thus, anyone in the Nine Realms who walked this path would inevitably be drawn to matters of the heart. Moreover, those who immersed themselves in love found their cultivation progressing with remarkable ease, their power soaring at an unprecedented rate.

Now, the entire White Realm was awash with the rosy glow of romance.

This also meant that the White Emperor’s fortune lay in the realm of love. As a result, anyone who could associate themselves with the White Emperor’s romantic affairs—even through sheer bragging—would be able to siphon a portion of that fortune, so long as others believed them.

The more people who believed, the greater the fortune one could claim.

However, this was a secret known to very few.

Only a handful of sects from other domains were privy to it.

The Moonview Sect was one of them.

Xu Kaihan, the son of the Moonview Sect’s patriarch, had been spinning tales about his supposed romantic involvement with the White Emperor ever since she had ascended to sainthood.

At first, no one with half a brain would believe such nonsense. But the sect’s patriarch, eager for his son to bask in the White Emperor’s immense fortune, mobilized the entire sect to spread these wild claims far and wide.

As the saying goes, repeat a lie enough times, and it becomes the truth.

One person’s bragging might be dismissed. Two might raise doubts. But when an entire sect insists on the same outrageous story, even the most absurd tale starts to gain traction.

At this moment, the man standing on the second floor held up a scroll in one hand.

Painted on it was an ethereal man, hands clasped behind his back, gazing tenderly at the distant silhouette of a breathtakingly beautiful woman.

The man holding the scroll pointed at the celestial figure in the painting.

"This," he declared, "is Xu Kaihan, son of the Moonview Sect’s patriarch! And he is none other than the White Emperor’s lover!"

The moment the words left his mouth, murmurs of disbelief and awe rippled through the tavern.

"Really? Or are you just full of it?" a bystander couldn’t help but shout.

"Look at this divine visage—does it seem like I’m lying?" The man’s expression was dead serious as he tapped the painted figure of the woman.

"This," he announced, "is the White Emperor!"

The tavern erupted into chaos.

Everyone craned their necks, eager to catch a glimpse of the White Emperor—even if it was just her back.

Some extended their spiritual senses, probing the painting. The woman’s silhouette indeed radiated an overwhelming aura, and the connection between the two figures was thick with unspoken emotions, as if infused with the very essence of the Dao.

With this revelation, many began to waver, half-convinced.

As the crowd hung on his every word, the storyteller’s eyes gleamed, and he launched into an even more elaborate tale.

"Ah, how did my young master first meet the White Emperor, you ask? Well, that’s quite the story!"

"Picture this—it was a quiet afternoon. My young master was strolling through the woods when he heard the faint strains of a zither, its melody as refreshing as a mountain spring. Entranced, he followed the sound."

"After crossing a babbling brook, he came upon a smooth, flat stone. And there, seated upon it, was a woman so graceful that her mere silhouette could steal a man’s soul!"

The storyteller waxed poetic, closing his eyes as if reliving the moment himself.

The crowd was spellbound, their murmurs fading as they were drawn into the scene he painted.

Seeing their fascination, the man with the scroll grew even more animated, his gestures becoming increasingly dramatic.

"That stone may have been cold, but it was smooth as jade—not a single jagged edge to be found!"

"And then, the White Emperor reclined upon it, lifting her delicate foot to rest upon my young master’s shoulder, while he leaned in close…"

"..."

The audience was utterly enthralled, their drinks forgotten, their breaths held.

Not a single word was to be missed.

Meanwhile, Yi Feng, who had been brooding in silence, set down his cup.

A glimmer of interest flickered in his eyes.

"The lover of a saint… Could it be true?"

He stroked his chin in thought. "If so, maybe he could lead me to this White Emperor…"

"Ah, Brother Yi, still obsessing over the White Emperor, I see."

A green-haired young man sauntered over and plopped down across from Yi Feng with familiar ease.

The youth’s name was Chen Dong.

A cultivator at the Fifth Tribulation Realm, he had come to the Nine Realms Alliance to join in the excitement surrounding the White Emperor’s awakening. As a result, he was a regular at the local taverns, where he’d struck up a friendship with Yi Feng, who was also there gathering information.

Chen Dong was a good-natured fellow, always eager to share whatever rumors he’d picked up about the White Emperor—though none had proven useful so far.

"Brother Yi, I get it. Everyone wants a piece of the White Emperor’s fortune," Chen Dong said, pouring them both a drink. "An innate saint like her? Who wouldn’t want to seize such an opportunity? But let’s be real—it’s not just small fry like us. Rumor has it even major powers from other domains have come sniffing around."

"Just think about the competition."

"So take it from me, Brother Yi—we little guys need to know our place. Dreaming is fine, but actually getting close to the White Emperor? Impossible. Even if there was a chance, it’d never fall to us."

"Better not get tangled up in this mess. In the eyes of the truly powerful, we’re not even ants."

Yi Feng chuckled.

He knew Chen Dong meant well.

But the truth was, he wasn’t here for opportunities—he was here to die.

Compared to fighting for scraps in this grand competition, finding death should be much simpler.

Still, the first step was locating the White Emperor.

Glancing back at the animated storyteller, Yi Feng couldn’t help but ask, "Do you think there’s any truth to what he’s saying?"

"Hard to say," Chen Dong mused. "The Moonview Sect is a major power from another domain, after all. Their young master is a big shot in his own right. Who’s to say he didn’t actually cross paths with the White Emperor?"

Yi Feng nodded thoughtfully.

Then, with a grin, he added, "Brother Chen, same as always—if you hear anything else about the White Emperor, let me know."

"Brother Yi, you’re really not taking my advice, are you?" Chen Dong sighed. "Even if we did find the White Emperor, what then? You think she’d spare us a glance?"

But seeing Yi Feng’s unwavering determination, he relented.

"Fine, fine. If I hear anything, I’ll tell you."

"But this round’s on you, got it?"

"Deal," Yi Feng laughed.

"Cheers."

"Cheers…"

After drinks, Yi Feng headed home.

To better gather information, he’d even rented a place nearby.

His mind, however, was still fixated on the White Emperor’s supposed lover.

Whether true or not, it was still a lead.

And so, early the next morning, Yi Feng set out again, making his way to another tavern.

Two days later, Yi Feng rode his horse to several other cities.

After days of investigation, his confidence grew significantly.

Wherever he went, he heard rumors about Xu Kaihan and his lover.

If it were just one or two places spreading such tales, it might have been mere gossip.

But with multiple cities thousands of miles apart all echoing the same story, there was likely some truth to it.

A plan quickly formed in Yi Feng’s mind.

A Saint of Love.

One who attains sainthood through passion.

Surely, such a person would value their beloved dearly, wouldn’t they?

If he kidnapped this Xu Kaihan, wouldn’t the White Emperor come charging in without hesitation?

Meanwhile.

In an extravagant tavern, a man in white robes stood atop the building.

Holding a white fan, he exuded an air of elegance as he gazed at the dozens of subordinates kneeling before him, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Excellent. You’ve all done well."

"Now, the entire Nine Realms Alliance is buzzing with rumors about me and the White Emperor."

"However, if this spreads too much, I fear the White Emperor might actually come for me, so I’ll need to lay low for a while."

"But all of you must continue spreading the rumors—and intensify your efforts."

"Better yet, spice them up with more explicit details. The juicier the gossip, the more people will believe it, and the greater my fortune will be."

"When I obtain the fortune of a Saint, you’ll all be handsomely rewarded!"

"Yes!"

The crowd knelt and responded in unison.

"Good."

The white-robed youth nodded in satisfaction, but given the importance of the matter, he couldn’t resist reiterating, "Remember, keep spreading the rumors. Don’t stop until I reappear. Understood?"

"Understood!"

The crowd bowed once more.

"Dismissed."

Only then did the man wave his hand in approval.

His subordinates scattered in all directions.

"The fortune of a Saint… what a marvelous thing."

Gazing at the distant scenery, the man in white felt exceptionally pleased.

After just a brief period of spreading rumors, he could already sense a faint aura of fortune gathering around him.

Just as he was lost in his blissful reverie, an uninvited guest appeared beside him—another man clad in white robes.

It was Yi Feng.

Yi Feng studied the man before him. His appearance matched exactly the one he had seen in the tavern’s portrait.

This had to be Xu Kaihan, the White Emperor’s lover.

Meanwhile, Xu Kaihan was momentarily stunned by Yi Feng’s sudden appearance, but he quickly regained his composure, maintaining his usual air of grace.

"Might I ask who you are?"

"I’m looking for the White Emperor. I heard you’re her lover?" Yi Feng cut straight to the point. "Is that correct?"

Hearing this, Xu Kaihan elegantly adjusted his sleeves.

"Indeed, I am."

Seeing Xu Kaihan’s solemn and dignified demeanor—coupled with his refined manners—Yi Feng nodded gravely.

This man was almost certainly the real deal.

Still, to be thorough, Yi Feng pressed further, "But I’m curious. The White Emperor is a Saint, while you… don’t seem to be one. How exactly did the two of you meet?"

"Surely it wasn’t just a chance encounter, as the rumors claim?"

Yi Feng’s gaze burned into him, probing for the truth.

He didn’t want to make a mistake.

"Ah, well…"

The question caught Xu Kaihan off guard.

As an impostor, his first instinct when challenged was to prove himself.

Recovering quickly—and masking his hesitation flawlessly—he seized the moment to improvise.

"Of course, it wasn’t as simple as the rumors suggest."

"What kind of person do you take the White Emperor to be? She wouldn’t pledge herself to me after just one fleeting encounter."

"To be honest, we’ve known each other since childhood. We were childhood sweethearts—I held her in my heart, and she held me in hers."

"But as we grew older, our paths diverged, and we lost touch for a time."

"It wasn’t until we reunited by chance in the mountains that our story truly began."

"So our reunion wasn’t some whimsical twist of fate—it was destiny fulfilling its course."

Xu Kaihan explained gently, his tone smooth and convincing.

As a fraud, he had to uphold the craft—every word had to be airtight, every detail believable.

A romantic encounter sounded far-fetched, but with his polished spin, how could this young man doubt him?

Sure enough.

Yi Feng was convinced.

The man’s explanation was seamless—too detailed to be fabricated. It had to be true.

Just as Xu Kaihan was basking in the perfection of his own lies, a fist came hurtling toward him with unstoppable force.

Of course, Yi Feng held back.

His goal wasn’t to kill, but to use this man as bait.

Still, the punch was enough to send Xu Kaihan—despite his cultivation—reeling, stars exploding in his vision.

Before he could even ask why, a sack descended over his head.

Darkness swallowed him, and he slumped into unconsciousness.