If He Can Summon Disciples from the Tianyan Sect, Then I Can Summon Bai Xuanling

Li Yingling's gaze remained fixed on her junior brother. After all, one naturally cares for their own kin—even if he was being used as bait, he had to be kept safe.

The spot where Li Xingtian stood was surrounded by multiple layers of barriers set up by Tianyan Sect disciples, stacked one over another, spanning from spiritual energy to divine sense. Li Yingling had spent a considerable amount of spirit stones on this, but money was ultimately a trivial matter compared to ensuring the safety of her sect members.

The barriers were so sturdy that even a Deity Transformation cultivator would need time to break through.

Zhang Miaoyu, due to her low cultivation level, had been left behind by Li Yingling.

The formation had also been carefully observed—the largest group was assigned to support Li Xingtian.

Wang Lin, the strongest in the squad, was pulled aside by Li Yingling to the right flank, ready to launch a surprise attack, while she herself took another squad member to ambush the escape route, targeting any cowards who tried to flee.

There was a plan, and there were contingencies. Only because the strategy was thorough and feasible did Wang Lin agree to give it a try.

Now, it all depended on whether Li Xingtian was sufficiently infuriating. If his taunting skills were even half as good as their master’s, it would be enough.

Li Xingtian openly unleashed his spiritual energy, making his intentions clear:

"A Golden Core ancestor stands before you, you bunch of Nascent Soul trash—come and face your deaths!"

His aura lingered for only a moment before several powerful Nascent Soul presences came rushing toward him.

Before the figures even appeared, terrifying surges of energy crashed toward him.

Li Xingtian remained expressionless as the Nascent Soul-level attacks collided with the barriers in front of him.

BOOM!

Spiritual energy erupted like fireworks—if one considered explosions beautiful.

Under the assault, the barriers flared brilliantly, shielding Li Xingtian completely.

The approaching figures halted abruptly at the sight of the towering high-tier barriers.

Old Wang, the sinister cultivator, narrowed his eyes. "Who sets up formations mid-battle?"

"Is this an ambush...?" someone asked.

"Or are they preparing to dance for us? This is definitely a trap!"

"That kid must be from the Evil Spirit Sect! Probably here to double-cross us. Should we retreat?"

The suggestion resonated deeply. All four turned their eyes to Old Wang.

Old Wang glanced at the last speaker—a slightly hunched old man.

At this point, he no longer fully believed there wasn’t a traitor among them.

"Could that brat really have tracked us by throwing sticks?"

And if there was a mole, it was likely among these four. The hunched elder had just made it onto Old Wang’s suspect list.

"Where else can we retreat to? If that brat really had reinforcements, why wait until now? And if this was an ambush, why make such an obvious show of these barriers?"

Old Wang’s aura surged violently as he growled,

"I suspect these barriers are meant to sow doubt. If we falter, we might be playing right into their hands."

No one responded, their gazes still locked on Old Wang.

They were all sinister cultivators, and they all knew one rule: when something strange happens, don’t question it, don’t investigate—just run.

Because strange things could be deadly.

Old Wang was the only one who charged forward, leaving behind a single sentence:

"Meng Jun is watching us from behind."

The moment those words fell, the remaining four exchanged glances.

Without another word, they followed Old Wang.

Old Wang kept his eyes fixed on Li Xingtian behind the barriers while assessing the formations.

In terms of craftsmanship, they were top-tier—clearly expensive. Breaking them would take effort.

His expression turned icy as he brandished a black soul banner and roared,

"Brat, what the hell are you planning?! We invited the Evil Spirit Sect to join us, and they refused. Now you come to mess with us?"

The others landed behind him, each wielding their own spiritual treasures.

Li Xingtian scanned them—the core members were all here, except for their leader, Meng Jun.

"What a cowardly leader."

A mocking smile curled on Li Xingtian’s lips as he imitated his master’s tone:

"So what if I’m messing with you? You’re just a bunch of lowly sinister cultivators. What can you do about it?"

Old Wang laughed in disbelief. "Lowly sinister cultivators? And you’re not one?!"

Instinctively, Li Xingtian retorted, "I cultivate a proper orthodox Daoist method, every step earned through my own efforts. How am I a sinister cultivator?"

Faced with such shameless words, Old Wang spat back,

"You reek of blood aura, yet you claim orthodox methods? The souls in my banner don’t even amount to a tenth of your victims! If you’re orthodox, then I’m a saint!"

"Saint my ass!" Li Xingtian snarled. "What do you lowly sinister cultivators know about orthodox methods? Shut your damn mouth if you don’t understand."

Old Wang said no more. He raised his soul banner, and a vast black energy blotted out the sky, transforming into countless vengeful ghosts and skeletons that surged toward Li Xingtian.

The barriers before Li Xingtian flared brilliantly, effortlessly blocking the seemingly overwhelming assault.

Seeing Old Wang go all out, the other sinister cultivators hesitated briefly before joining in, each unleashing their own techniques against Li Xingtian.

In moments, the valley was shrouded in chaotic dark energy, filled with eerie wails.

They attacked cautiously, their divine senses on high alert, yet nothing happened. It really seemed like this Golden Core brat had come alone to die.

And the barriers were visibly weakening.

The memories of what Li Xingtian had done recently were still fresh in their minds.

"To hell with this! Smash his damn shell and turn his head into a piss pot!"

One sinister cultivator, wielding a ghost-headed blade, erupted with spiritual energy and slashed down. The terrifying force shattered nearby mountain peaks, and a sinister aura withered all plant life it touched.

The barrier trembled violently, on the verge of collapse.

Li Xingtian narrowed his eyes but still held back from signaling. He wanted to stall a little longer—to lure out Meng Jun or at least pinpoint his location.

But a certain senior sister disagreed.

Two streaks of light shot in from the east, charging straight into the crowd of sinister cultivators.

Old Wang sensed them immediately. His eyes locked onto the figures—Tianyan Sect disciples, clad in their sect’s robes, wielding swords and spiritual treasures as they closed in.

He scoffed. "Since when did the bar for sinister cultivators drop so low? Or are you just suicidal?"

"Tianyan Sect? Everyone knows the Eighteen Immortal Sects slaughter sinister cultivators without question."

"Trying to scare me with a few Nascent Souls? Ridiculous!"

But his smirk froze when someone beside him shrieked:

"It’s the Tianyan Sect! It really is an ambush! Retreat!"

Old Wang turned just in time to see his companions preparing to flee.

"Run where? He’s not a sinister cultivator?!" he bellowed.

"If he can call Tianyan Sect disciples, then I can summon Bai Xuanling!"