Not long after Ying Bing and Li Mo left Qingmu City, in a private room on the second floor of a tavern, a group of Demonic Cult members were gathered for breakfast. There were simply too many of them to fit on the first floor, so after ordering, they had retreated upstairs.
Luo Yexian sat at the head of the table, waiting for the waiter to bring their food. However, just then, he suddenly felt a burning sensation in his chest—it was his token.
As the Summoning Demonic Cult, they naturally had their own means of communication, and tokens were one of them. Ordinary members could transmit messages through spiritual intent, while the tokens of hall masters were far more advanced—ancient relics capable of projecting images.
Buzz—
Buzz—
"Quiet, everyone. It's the Holy Son."
Luo Yexian signaled for his subordinates to fall silent before activating the token. A shimmering light formed into an image.
"We pay our respects to the Holy Son."
The figure on the other side of the projection flickered unsteadily, giving it an eerie appearance.
This Summoning Demonic Holy Son had once topped the Hidden Dragon Ranking before being defeated by the Crown Prince of Dayu, shattering his dragon form and relegating him to competing for third place with Tian Miao, the wandering disciple of the Yantian Sect.
Since then, his temperament had grown increasingly unpredictable.
"I ordered you to investigate the Myriad Phenomena Immortal Sect. Why has there been no progress for so long?"
The Holy Son's voice was low and cold.
Hearing that the Holy Son was in a foul mood, Luo Yexian straightened his posture.
"You said we weren’t to disturb you until we had results. Wasn’t that your command?"
"......"
The Holy Son’s projection flickered twice.
"Must you always be so inflexible?"
"Last time, you called us clumsy and narrow-minded, forbidding us from acting without your wise guidance, lest we ruin things by adding unnecessary moves."
Luo Yexian replied smoothly.
"But I also said that in emergencies, you could act on your own judgment!"
"You didn’t specify whether this counted as an emergency."
"Did it never occur to you to ask?!"
The Holy Son’s voice was laced with frustration.
Luo Yexian remained unshaken. "But you said we weren’t to disturb you before obtaining results..."
He prided himself on following protocol to the letter.
"You—"
The projection trembled violently.
Perhaps the Holy Son wanted to curse, but given that the Beast Hall Master was his uncle-in-law, some words might wound the enemy eight hundred while harming himself a thousand...
Why had communication never felt this difficult before?
Ah, right—previously, the Beast Hall had only existed in name, with most affairs in the Southern Border being handled by Han Zhen. But now that Han Zhen was dead, the average intelligence of the Beast Hall had plummeted...
If Luo Yexian weren’t his uncle, he would’ve invoked the cult’s disciplinary measures long ago!
"Enough. What have you done so far?"
"Reporting to the Holy Son, we’ve tracked them to Qingmu City and are waiting for the right moment. The moment they leave the city, we’ll locate them immediately!"
Luo Yexian spoke solemnly, finally offering something reliable.
The Holy Son’s flickering projection stabilized slightly. The so-called Myriad Phenomena Immortal Sect was likely a fabrication—but what if it wasn’t?
Even the smallest glimpse of their power was terrifying.
Even a one-in-ten-thousand chance warranted caution.
"They’re in Qingmu City now?"
"Correct."
The Holy Son took a deep breath. He was currently tied up with other matters and feared Luo Yexian might bungle this, so he reiterated:
"Once you find them, test them first. Even if they’re proven false, you must still seek my approval before acting. Report any developments to me immediately!"
"Yes!"
The projection vanished.
Before long, the food arrived. The cultists pulled out a few sets of mahjong tiles to pass the time—after all, with nothing else to do, they had little choice.
Suddenly, the bucktoothed priest’s eyes widened.
"Pure sequence! Seven pairs in a pure suit! Pay up, pay up!"
But not long after, the middle-aged priest rushed back inside and announced loudly:
"Hall Master, they’ve left the city!"
"Good. Move out at once."
Luo Yexian stood abruptly, flipping the mahjong table in the process.
"But my pure sequence—"
"Foolish distractions have no place in urgent matters. Learn to prioritize!"
"???"
And so, the Demonic Cult members set off in full force, boarding a sixth-tier calamity beast and soaring into the sky.
Mid-flight, the gaunt middle-aged priest kept close watch on the flow of mortal energy.
After a while, he spoke again:
"Hall Master, the convergence point of mortal energy lies ahead."
"Oh? They’ve stopped?"
Luo Yexian narrowed his eyes.
Before them stretched a vast, flourishing peach blossom forest, its petals drifting onto an emerald-green stream that meandered like a jade ribbon into the unknown.
The scene was breathtakingly serene, as if leading to a paradise.
Hmm—
The sound of a flute seemed to ripple along with the flowing water.
"Who goes there?!"
Luo Yexian called out warily.
The cultists instinctively looked up—and their pupils contracted.
Deep within the peach blossom forest, a small boat glided into view.
At its bow stood a maiden in an ethereal black dress, her figure as light as mist, sleeves fluttering in the breeze. She played a bamboo flute, its melody echoing hauntingly through the trees—unlike any music known across the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths, yet brimming with ancient sorrow.
Well, of course it was unfamiliar.
If anyone in the Nine Heavens and Ten Earths had heard Big Fish, that would’ve been truly supernatural.
But regardless.
Faced with such an otherworldly scene, none dared act rashly.
More importantly, the maiden was extraordinary.
A sheer veil concealed her face, revealing only a pair of arched brows. Logically, a mere veil shouldn’t have been enough to obscure her from so many eyes—yet the harder one looked, the more her celestial features seemed shrouded in mist, impossible to discern.
Even closing one’s eyes made her presence vanish entirely—as if she didn’t belong to this world!
Luo Yexian tensed and demanded:
"Who are you?"
"......"
Ying Bing lowered her flute, silent and indifferent.
This was Li Mo’s instruction—to recall the days without him.
For a performance to be convincing, the first impression had to be striking. She needed only to say nothing.
The ice queen’s gaze.
The pressure of the Phoenix Heaven Empress was overwhelming!
Luo Yexian: "!"
The cultists: "!!!"
Those cold, transcendent eyes held not a trace of emotion—like a deity looking down upon mortals!
The sheer weight of that gaze made Luo Yexian and his men break out in cold sweat, feeling utterly unworthy of her attention.
Not even the Holy Son had ever made them feel this way!
Hmm...
The timing was perfect.
From his hidden vantage point, Li Mo nodded in satisfaction. Ying Bing’s performance had exceeded expectations—so natural it hardly seemed like acting.
Next time, he’d have to tell her to tone it down...
With the first step complete, Li Mo stepped out from the peach blossoms and called out clearly:
"Senior Sister, hold your hand! These are outsiders I've brought to visit, from beyond our realm."