You Go Shout Insults at the Door

Fading Cloud Valley, a place where even moonlight failed to reach its depths. Several Nascent Soul cultivators sat in silence within a cave at the valley floor.

Their robes varied in color, but their expressions were uniformly grim.

The Demonic Cultivator seated at the head spoke first, his voice hoarse:

"Old Wang… have you checked? Is it one of those bastards from the Evil Spirit Sect?"

Old Wang sighed helplessly. "The Evil Spirit Sect says it’s not them. They even told us to kill the guy on sight if we find him—no need to spare their face."

"Damn those blood-addled fools!" Meng Jun couldn’t hold back his fury any longer. "Do they really think we’re holding back out of respect? Who the hell is that Golden Core demonic cultivator with eyes like a goddamn clairvoyant? Why is he targeting us? And why can’t we catch him?"

"I always thought there was a traitor among us—that’s how that blood-qi bastard always knew our weak points and struck where we were least prepared."

"But the more we narrowed it down, the fewer suspects remained. Yet he still moves like he sees everything. Now there are only six of us left here—all of you have fought by my side till now, and I’ve never wronged any of you."

"If that damned demonic cultivator can still find us… I really don’t want to suspect any of you."

The leader’s accusation hung heavy in the air, met with silence.

Only the chirping of insects echoed in their ears.

After all, Meng Jun wasn’t the only one on the verge of losing his mind. Every person present was already at their breaking point.

Their enemy struck only at their vulnerabilities, and that demonic cultivator was no pushover—wielding a high-grade spirit treasure, he fought on par with their Nascent Soul experts.

Even when outmatched, he escaped with unsettling ease.

Worse yet, he seemed to know their every move in advance, sometimes even waiting for them at their next destination.

What had once been a relaxed, meticulously planned operation had turned into a desperate scramble.

It was as if their enemy was more experienced than they were. At this rate, the Dream Blossom they sought might be snatched away by that damned demonic cultivator before they could even activate it.

Amid the suffocating silence, Old Wang was the first to speak again:

"I trust every one of you here. Though rushed, our preparations are nearly complete. That bastard is just a Golden Core demonic cultivator—nothing more than a reckless brute."

"Now that we’re gathered together, what can a mere Golden Core do against six Nascent Souls?"

"He’s been alone this whole time. What we need now is to stay calm and not rush into panic."

Perhaps it was Old Wang’s seniority, or perhaps his words made sense—no one objected.

Meng Jun tapped his fingers lightly, his gaze sweeping over the other five.

Old Wang had a point. Besides, they had come too far to give up now.

When it came to blood-qi cultivation, the Evil Spirit Sect was the largest faction. If this guy wasn’t one of theirs, then he was no real threat.

A lone Golden Core demonic cultivator couldn’t possibly call for reinforcements.

It wasn’t like a demonic cultivator would report them to the righteous sects, right?

The constant bad news had frayed their nerves, clouding their judgment.

Meng Jun stood. "Old Wang is right. What storm can a single Golden Core demonic cultivator stir? In the end, it’s strength that decides everything. The Dream Pearl is almost ready. Once the Dream Realm descends, we’ll—"

Before he could finish, a familiar presence flickered outside the cave.

Meng Jun’s expression twisted from shock to fury as he glared at the others—there had to be a traitor! How else could that bastard track them so precisely?!

Someone here was rotten!

Old Wang’s face stiffened, but every person here had fought alongside him through life and death.

He glanced at Meng Jun’s expression and, despite the poor timing, spoke up:

"He’s throwing an egg at a stone. Brothers, let’s bring out our best today and end this nuisance once and for all."

If there really was a traitor, now was the time to root them out—even if it meant taking risks.

As soon as he finished, a burly man stood and strode toward the entrance.

"I’ve had enough of this. I’ll take the lead!"

Old Wang nodded slightly, then turned to Meng Jun, whose suspicion still lingered.

In truth, paranoia wasn’t a bad trait for a demonic cultivator—after all, demonic cultivators didn’t trust each other either.

Old Wang clasped his hands, sincerity in his voice. "To guard against any ambush, you’re the strongest among us and hold the Dream Pearl. You’re the best choice to anchor our formation. We’ll need you to hold the rear, Meng Jun."

Given the circumstances, this was the best way to ease doubts.

With someone guarding their backs, even if there was a traitor, they’d have room to maneuver.

Trust was fragile now—especially for someone as wary as Meng Jun, who certainly wouldn’t want to charge into battle under these conditions.

Better to play the villain and keep the group from falling apart.

Meng Jun said nothing, only giving a slight nod before whispering to Old Wang:

"Be careful."

Old Wang’s words had soothed him. Right now, no matter who was suspect, Old Wang was his most trusted ally. If an ambush awaited, he’d make sure to save Old Wang.

Old Wang nodded earnestly in response.

Above the valley, Wang Lin kept his eyes fixed on Li Xingtian, who had been tossed down by their senior sister as bait.

This mission, if nothing else, had cured Wang Lin of his habit of judging people by appearances.

Despite Li Xingtian’s brutish, intimidating look, his plans were methodical and airtight—the kind where success hinged on everyone just doing their part without mistakes.

Wang Lin had listened to the plan and found it reassuringly solid, the kind he preferred executing.

Steady progress, no loose ends, tightening the net until the prey had nowhere to run.

It felt like meeting a kindred spirit in planning.

Meanwhile, Li Yingling—despite her delicate, cold demeanor—leaned toward brute-force solutions.

There was a hint of Elder Bai’s philosophy in her approach: Why bother with complexity when strength suffices?

Her plan, in Wang Lin’s eyes, boiled down to: Junior Brother, go taunt them into our ambush. Then we charge from both sides, catch them off guard, and victory is ours.

She’d even accounted for the enemy fleeing: If they’re cowards, we’ll just chase them down and attack from both sides. Victory is still ours.

Wang Lin had pondered the plan and concluded that while crude… it might just work.

There was an odd simplicity to it, especially when their side was overwhelmingly stronger.

Compared to Li Xingtian’s meticulous tightening of the noose, Li Yingling’s plan was much faster.

But Wang Lin couldn’t shake the unease that came with such a straightforward approach.

In comparison, Wang Lin actually quite liked Li Xingtian's plan.

Li Yingling's follower, Zhang Miaoyu, remarked that while the strategy was simple, it had been tested in actual combat.

However, Li Xingtian purely believed it was because those rogue cultivators couldn’t execute intricate plans, forcing him to devise such a loose arrangement.

Li Xingtian also argued fiercely for the senior sister’s plan, but clearly lost the debate—in summary, though the senior sister’s plan seemed crude, it was still foolproof.

Perhaps the senior sister’s plan truly was flawless.

Or perhaps her status carried unshakable weight.

In any case, Li Xingtian was now at the foot of the valley, hurling insults while channeling his spiritual energy.