Liu Kuanglan, what else do you have to say

Pavilion of Listening Wind.

Precious calming incense burned quietly within a beast-headed bronze censer in the corner, sending up thin, curling strands of smoke.

Outside the window, the wind continued to howl.

Liu Kuanglan lay half-reclined in a wheelchair carved from ten-thousand-year-old warming jade, a thick blanket draped over him. His face, once handsome enough to make countless celestial maidens lose their hearts, was now devoid of color, pale to the point of being horrifying.

His breathing was light, the appearance of a critically ill man who could draw his last breath at any moment.

The Blue-Robed Maid stood behind him, carefully kneading his shoulders with gentle movements.

Suddenly, the door was pushed open from the outside.

A gust of cold wind swept in, dropping the temperature inside the room by several degrees.

The Blue-Robed Maid frowned, about to rebuke the intruder for his rudeness in entering without an invitation.

But Liu Kuanglan raised his hand slightly, signaling her to stop.

He slowly opened his eyes. They had once shone like stars, but now they were dim and lifeless, murky like a pool of stagnant water.

The newcomer wore a golden cloud-patterned Daoist robe, the distinctive mark of Imperial Court Mountain. His face was arrogant, his chin held high. It was Elder He, who had last visited half a month ago.

But now, Elder He’s face no longer held any trace of his former high spirits. Instead, it looked as though someone owed him millions of spirit stones—dark and gloomy enough to drip water.

“Pavilion Master Liu.”

Elder He got straight to the point, not even bothering with basic pleasantries, his tone full of impatience.

“It’s been half a month.”

“That bastard Su Hao has vanished like smoke, leaving no trace behind.”

Elder He plopped down into a nearby chair and let out a heavy snort.

“Imperial Court Mountain mobilized everyone we could. We turned the entire area around the Great Wasteland upside down—not a single hair of that brat did we find!”

Hearing this, Liu Kuanglan seemed to be triggered by his wounds and coughed violently.

“Cough... cough, cough, cough...”

He covered his mouth, coughing a couple of times.

“Elder... Elder He...”

Liu Kuanglan finally caught his breath.

“That demon... his methods are bizarre... cough... That day, I barely escaped his deadly schemes...”

“Barely?”

Elder He shot him a glance, his eyes sweeping over Liu Kuanglan’s chest, wrapped in thick bandages.

“From the looks of that injury, Pavilion Master Liu, it seems like more than a ‘barely,’ doesn’t it?”

“The honored Pavilion Master of the Pavilion of Listening Wind, a True Immortal in cultivation, was wounded to this half-dead state by the mere residual energy of two juniors battling?”

“Pavilion Master Liu, if word of this gets out, the reputation of your Pavilion of Listening Wind might just be shattered.”

His words were biting, each one like salt rubbed into Liu Kuanglan’s wounds.

The Blue-Robed Maid trembled with rage, about to speak up in defense.

But Liu Kuanglan raised his hand again to stop her.

A look of just the right amount of anguish appeared on his face as he shook his head with difficulty.

“Cough... It wasn’t a failure in combat...”

Liu Kuanglan’s voice grew even weaker.

“That demon... used some evil art to detonate the resentment and baleful energy of the entire Immortal’s Burial Mound...”

“Such a show of heavenly might... is beyond human power to resist... cough...”

As he spoke, he coughed violently again, even spitting out a few bloody flecks that splattered onto the pristine white blanket, a stark sight.

Elder He stared at him, his brow furrowing deeper.

Of course, he had sent people to investigate the Great Wasteland.

The situation there was even worse than what Liu Kuanglan had described.

The entire third mining zone, along with a hundred miles around it, had transformed into a bottomless chasm, magma churning within, baleful energy soaring to the sky. Not even ordinary cultivators could enter unscathed, let alone a living person.

It truly didn’t seem like something human power could have caused.

But...

A Transcender, with a cultivation level at most at the Nascent Soul or Divine Transformation stage... Could he really have stirred up such a commotion?

Elder He’s heart was full of doubt.

“Liu Kuanglan.”

Elder He stood up and walked over to the wheelchair, looking down at him from above.

The pressure of a True Immortal spread silently, like an invisible mountain bearing down on Liu Kuanglan.

“I’ll ask you one last time.”

Elder He’s voice turned cold.

“At that time, did you really not see anything else?”

“For example... which direction did he flee in?”

Under the pressure, Liu Kuanglan’s face instantly turned even paler.

The veins on his forehead bulged, and his body trembled uncontrollably. The wheelchair let out a strained creak under the load.

“I...”

Liu Kuanglan seemed to be enduring tremendous pain. He struggled to lift his head, trying to recall.

“At that time... at that time, everything was chaotic... the light was blinding... I only remember that the demon seemed to...”

“Blegh!!!”

Before he could finish, Liu Kuanglan opened his mouth wide, and a massive gush of golden-purple blood sprayed out like a fountain.

As the blood hit the ground, it corroded the hard stone floor, sizzling as it ate away small pits.

“Pavilion Master!”

The Blue-Robed Maid cried out in alarm. Throwing aside all decorum, she dashed forward in a single step to shield Liu Kuanglan.

Her eyes reddened as she glared at Elder He, her voice choked with tears.

“Elder He! My Pavilion Master’s primal injuries have been reopened, and his soul is damaged! He cannot withstand your spiritual pressure like this!”

“If you keep pressing him and something happens to my Pavilion Master, every member of the Pavilion of Listening Wind will report this to the Immortal Emperor and fight your Imperial Court Mountain to the death!”

The young maid had thrown caution to the wind.

Elder He looked at Liu Kuanglan, who seemed to have more breath going out than coming in, then at the maid who stood protectively before him with fierce determination. His brow knitted into a knot.

He withdrew his pressure.

If he kept pressing and forced Liu Kuanglan to die, the matter would spiral out of control.

Imperial Court Mountain might be powerful, but they couldn’t just drive the master of an entire organization to his death without cause—especially not the Pavilion of Listening Wind, an intelligence network with eyes and ears all over the world.

Once rumors started and mud was slung, Imperial Court Mountain would have no way to clear its name even with a hundred mouths.

“Liu Kuanglan, do you have anything else to say?”

Liu Kuanglan shook his head. “I have nothing to say.”

“That demon has strange luck shielding him, obscuring the heavenly secrets. Any divination about him is nine times out of ten wrong.”

“Even your Imperial Court Mountain couldn’t divine his origins. Expecting my subordinates to gather information on him is clearly a fool’s errand.”

“Besides, even a sliver of your master-uncle’s divine soul was lost there. I count myself lucky to have come out alive. How could I have had any spare thought to...”

“Hmph!”

Elder He let out a cold snort, flicked his sleeve, and turned to leave.

“Useless wretch!”

He stopped at the door, then spoke again without turning around.

“Pavilion Master Liu, take care of yourself.”

“If I ever find out that you’ve spoken even a single lie...”

“The consequences... your Pavilion of Listening Wind will not be able to bear them.”

With those words, he didn’t wait for a reply. His figure flickered and vanished into the wind.

In the quiet room, silence returned.

The Blue-Robed Maid quickly knelt down, fumbling in her robes to pull out a pill, trying to feed it to Liu Kuanglan.

“Pavilion Master, how are you? Quick... take this Soul-Stabilizing Pill...”

“No need.”

Liu Kuanglan waved his hand, his voice still weak, but now carrying a hint of steadiness compared to before.

He slowly raised his hand, dabbing at the blood at the corner of his mouth with his sleeve in a unhurried manner.

That frail, deathly-ill demeanor quietly faded away in that moment.

His once cloudy eyes grew clear and sharp again, like a peerless lethal weapon hidden in its sheath, occasionally revealing a glint of edge that could eclipse the heavens and earth.

“Pavilion Master, you…”

The Blue-Robed Maid stared at her master’s transformation, momentarily at a loss.

“Help me up,” Liu Kuanglan said calmly.

“But your injuries…”

“I won’t die.”

Liu Kuanglan’s gaze shifted toward the window, to the north shrouded in snow and wind.

That was the direction of the Chaotic Star Sea.

The Blue-Robed Maid dared not disobey, carefully supporting him from his wheelchair.

Liu Kuanglan walked to the window and pushed it open.

A gust of cold wind rushed in, causing his loose white robe to rustle noisily.

“Was it a few years ago or a dozen? Too many things have happened, I can’t recall clearly—it seems someone from the Blade Sect came here looking for news of an enemy.”

The maid cautiously replied, “Yes, I remember you declined him, saying you would make some inquiries on his behalf and tell him to wait patiently for a reply.”

“Because that’s the rule of our Listenwise Pavilion: leave some leeway in all matters, so it’s easier to meet again.”

“That man, in a fit of jealousy and impulsiveness, wiped out over three thousand souls from a rival sect, with only one managing to escape.”

“You said the karma was too heavy and refused to take the case.”

“Mm, go inform him now.”

“I’ve found the person he’s looking for.”

“And don’t forget to bring sufficient payment.”