White Through Autumn

The entrance to the secret realm was a sea of people.

Flying ships from the major sects of the Three Thousand Dao Realms blotted out the sky and covered the sun.

Above the entire Sword Burial Abyss, hundreds of flying ships hovered densely, resembling a forest of steel.

Every flying ship was packed with young cultivators, their eyes flickering with a myriad of emotions: greed, excitement, nervousness, and fear.

Some rubbed their hands together eagerly, wishing they could charge in immediately and slaughter everyone in their path; some wore solemn expressions, silently inspecting their magical treasures; others were pale-faced, clearly terrified by the secret realm's fierce reputation.

When Ye Xuan, dressed in a spotless white robe with the Sun-Slaying Divine Sword hanging at his waist, slowly descended from the Emperor Ship—the highest-tier vessel of the Great Xia Dynasty—

The originally noisy crowd fell into a momentary, deathly silence.

Everyone's gaze unanimously focused on that white figure.

Ye Xuan's entrance was nothing short of perfect. He tread upon the void, every step landing on an invisible staircase, his posture as ethereal as an immortal's.

His white robe was completely untainted, shimmering with a faint radiance beneath the sun. His long hair fluttered in the wind, and his strikingly handsome, almost demonic face looked even more dazzling in the sunlight. The Sun-Slaying Divine Sword at his waist, though sheathed, still exuded a faint, almost imperceptible pressure.

Immediately after, sky-shaking discussions erupted.

"Look! That's the Great Xia Dynasty's Emperor Ship!"

A young cultivator in a green Daoist robe pointed at the sky, his voice filled with shock and envy. He was an outer sect disciple of the Green Mountain Sect named Li Qingshan, with a cultivation base only at the early Nascent Soul stage. He had come to the secret realm this time purely to try his luck.

"Who is that pretty boy? He actually gets to ride in the Empress's personal carriage?!"

Another demonic cultivator in tight black martial attire widened his eyes, his tone full of disbelief. His name was Hei Wuchang, an elite disciple of the Blood Fiend Sect, who usually despised those who relied on connections to climb the ranks.

"Shh! Keep your voice down! Haven't you heard? That is Ye Xuan!"

A well-informed rogue cultivator nearby lowered his voice and said.

"Ye Xuan? He's the legendary king of kept men?"

Hei Wuchang's voice suddenly rose by eight octaves, drawing roars of laughter from the surroundings.

Countless gazes instantly focused on Ye Xuan.

There was envy, jealousy, and disdain, but mostly a sour sort of hatred.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, he really does have a good-looking skin."

A holy son dressed in brocade clothes said sourly. His name was Zhao Ritian, the holy son of the Setting Sun Sect. He had an average appearance but fancied himself suave and charming.

Seeing Ye Xuan's face at this moment, the jealousy in his heart grew wildly like weeds: "I heard he is being kept by the Empress. He can take any resources and magical treasures he wants."

"More than that! I heard the one from the Heavenly Demon Sect is also looking for him. She almost overturned the Righteous Path Alliance for his sake!"

A short, sharp-chinned, and monkey-cheeked cultivator nearby chimed in. His name was Qian Que, the young master of the Mad Saber Sect, whose greatest hobby was gossiping.

"Sigh, comparing oneself to others will only make you die of anger."

A rogue cultivator beat his chest and stomped his feet in bitter frustration. His name was Sun Tiezhu, a miserable rogue cultivator who had cultivated for three hundred years just to barely reach the Nascent Soul stage:

"Having a Dao companion from a past life is truly too good."

"Yeah, why didn't I have such a Dao companion in my past life? Even a rich older woman would do!"

Another rogue cultivator echoed. His name was Li Goudan, a fellow sufferer and brother-in-arms to Sun Tiezhu.

"Now look at us, having to cultivate bitterly in this life, while he was practically born at the finish line!"

These discussions were not deliberately lowered in volume.

Like flies, they buzzed right into Ye Xuan's ears.

Ye Xuan walked expressionlessly through the crowd.

His hand gently rested on his sword hilt.

King of kept men?

A kept boy?

Relying on women?

A trace of extremely suppressed hostility flashed through the depths of Ye Xuan's eyes.

The world only knew of his boundless glory, but they did not know what kind of blood feud and humiliation was pressed beneath this hat of a kept man.

In his heart, he silently pulled out his little notebook.

Although he didn't physically take it out, in his divine sense, he had already memorized the few people who had spoken the loudest just now.

'Holy Son of the Green Mountain Sect, Zhao Ritian.'

'Young Master of the Mad Saber Sect, Qian Que.'

'Blood Fiend Sect's Hei Wuchang.'

'Rogue cultivators Sun Tiezhu and Li Goudan.'

'...'

'Just wait.'

'Once we enter the secret realm, I'll let you all know whether this soft rice is really that easy to eat.'

Right at this moment.

The crowd suddenly parted to form a path.

An extremely piercing sword intent, capable of freezing the soul, howled over from a distance.

This sword intent was too pure and too sharp; wherever it passed, the air was sliced into visible rifts. Some cultivators with lower cultivation bases felt a stinging pain all over their bodies just from being grazed by this sword intent, as if they were being subjected to a death by a thousand cuts.

"It's the people from the Sword God Palace!"

Someone shouted, and the crowd instantly exploded into an uproar.

Everyone subconsciously retreated to the sides, yielding a wide path. No one dared to block the way, because the people of the Sword God Palace had always been known for their decisive killing. Whoever dared to block their path would be slain.

A group of cultivators dressed in white robes with long swords on their backs strode over coldly and proudly.

Their footsteps were perfectly synchronized, like a well-trained army.

Silver sword patterns were embroidered on their white Daoist robes, and everyone carried a long sword on their back. The materials of their scabbards varied—some were of cold iron, some of profound ice, and some of stardust stone—but without exception, they all exuded a chilling sword intent.

This team consisted of twelve people arranged in a triangular formation. Walking at the very front were three core disciples, all at the late Nascent Soul stage, their auras as vast and deep as the sea.

In the middle were six elite disciples at the mid Nascent Soul stage, their eyes as sharp as eagles. At the rear were three outer sect disciples; although they were only at the early Nascent Soul stage, the purity of their sword intent had already surpassed ninety-nine percent of the cultivators present.

And at the very forefront of this team, the one leading them, was a woman.

Her snow-like silver hair hung down loosely. It was not the white of old age, but an extremely pure silver, as if condensed from moonlight, with every strand shimmering with a faint radiance.

Her facial features were exquisitely carved like ice and jade, breathtakingly beautiful, yet carrying a cold arrogance that kept people thousands of miles away.

Her eyebrows were slender like swords, and her eyes were a rare silver-gray, with thousands of sword auras hidden deep within her pupils. Her nose was high and straight, and her thin, tightly pursed lips revealed a coldness that warned strangers to keep away.

Her skin was so white it was almost transparent, emitting a faint fluorescence in the sunlight, like the finest mutton-fat jade.

Especially those eyes—they made people afraid to look directly at them.

Just a single glance into her eyes would give one the illusion that their soul was being pierced by countless swords.

Her figure was tall and well-proportioned, her white Daoist robe clinging tightly to her body, outlining perfect curves. A silver ribbon was tied around her waist, engraved with dense sword array runes. Her right hand rested on the hilt of the sword at her waist—a long sword that was entirely silver-white, its scabbard inlaid with nine stardust stones, each one priceless.

Sword God Palace, Bai Qianqiu.

The personal disciple of the current number one figure in the Dao of the Sword—the Sword Sovereign!

"It's Bai Qianqiu!"

"Heavens, she actually came too!"

"I heard she comprehended sword intent three years ago. Her power must be even more terrifying now!"

Waves of exclamations erupted from the crowd.

A young cultivator in a purple robe flushed red with excitement. His name was Zi Yunfei, a true disciple of the Purple Cloud Sect, and he had always worshipped sword cultivators. Seeing Bai Qianqiu at this moment, he could barely breathe:

"Fairy Bai! Fairy Bai! I am your most loyal admirer! Please give me a chance to court you!"

He was about to rush forward as he spoke, but was desperately held back by his fellow disciples.

"Are you crazy?! That's Bai Qianqiu! She hates being bothered more than anything!"

A burly, well-built man next to him warned in a low voice. His name was Xiong Dali, a guardian disciple of the Purple Cloud Sect, specifically responsible for protecting these junior brothers who didn't know the immensity of heaven and earth.

"But... but I really just want to say a word to her!" Zi Yunfei said, his face full of infatuation.

"Say a word? Do you have a death wish?" Xiong Dali rolled his eyes. "Last month, some blind fool tried to hit on Bai Qianqiu, and she sliced off half his face with a single sword strike. He's still bedridden!"

Zi Yunfei shivered and finally settled down.

The crowd parted automatically, no one daring to block the path of the Sword God Palace's procession.

Bai Qianqiu kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, walking directly toward the entrance of the secret realm.

Her steps were light, as if treading on the void, making absolutely no sound. Yet with every step she took, the surrounding air trembled slightly—a manifestation of leaking sword intent.

Her sword intent was simply too powerful to be fully concealed, constantly affecting the environment around her.

As she passed by Ye Xuan, her footsteps paused slightly.

Those sharp eyes swept over Ye Xuan.

Her gaze was complex, holding doubt, curiosity, and a faint trace of... disdain?

Her brows furrowed slightly, seemingly puzzled, yet also somewhat dismissive.

She lingered on Ye Xuan for about three seconds before withdrawing her gaze. Without a word, she walked straight in.

But those short three seconds were enough to make the surrounding crowd explode in an uproar.

"Fairy Bai actually spared a glance for that kept man!"

"Could she be interested in him?"

"Bullshit! How could Fairy Bai ever fall for a guy who lives off women!"

"I think she was looking down on him, right?"

"Definitely! Did you see her eyes? She was clearly looking at trash!"

Discussions rose and fell, but Bai Qianqiu had already walked far away, as if she hadn't heard a single word.

"So this is Bai Qianqiu... hailed as the leader of the sword path in this generation."

A middle-aged cultivator in black robes sighed with emotion. His name was Patriarch Black Wind, an elder of the Rogue Cultivators Alliance. His cultivation had already reached the Soul Formation realm, but as he looked at Bai Qianqiu's back, his eyes were full of wariness.

"I heard she has already comprehended sword intent and is invincible among her peers."

A short, heavily wrinkled old man next to him chimed in. His name was Short-legged Tiger, a good friend of Patriarch Black Wind, and similarly at the Soul Formation realm.

"Invincible among her peers is an understatement. I heard she once fought above her realm, challenging an early-stage Soul Formation sword cultivator, and cut him down in just three strikes!"

Another female cultivator wearing a red Daoist robe interjected. Her name was Fairy Red Lotus, a Supreme Elder of the Raging Fire Sect, with a cultivation base at the mid-stage of the Soul Formation realm.

"Hiss!"

The surrounding people gasped in cold air.

To fight above one's realm against a Soul Formation expert—what kind of terrifying combat prowess was that?

One must know that between the Nascent Soul realm and the Soul Formation realm laid an almost insurmountable chasm. Those who could fight above their level were one in ten thousand, and those who could actually kill an opponent of a higher realm were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.

"Truly worthy of being the disciple of the Sword Sovereign..."

Patriarch Black Wind sighed, a complex emotion flashing through his eyes.

The Sword Sovereign was a legendary figure in the current cultivation world.

As a woman, she cultivated the path of the sword, slaughtering her way to the top until she finally achieved the status of supreme sword master. Now, she was a peerless expert at the peak of the Mahayana realm, only a single step away from ascension.

And Bai Qianqiu, as the Sword Sovereign's only personal disciple, naturally inherited her legacy.

Ye Xuan watched Bai Qianqiu's back, a playful smile curling the corners of his lips.

'The Sword Sovereign's apprentice, huh...'

'That old woman's taste is as picky as ever.'