The Demon Race

Outside the pavilion, the sun was gradually rising.

Sunlight pierced through the thin mist, spilling over the pavilion and spreading a faint layer of gold.

The distant mountains shed their hazy veils, revealing their verdant outlines.

The nearby pines and cypresses appeared even more towering and straight in the sunlight, the dew on their branches and leaves having completely evaporated.

Inside the pavilion, Gu Chengyin sat on a stone stool, his expression indifferent.

Lin Qingyan stood beside him, still maintaining her cold and aloof demeanor, exuding an aura that kept strangers at bay.

That aura was very faint, so faint it was almost imperceptible, yet in the eyes of Yang Yifei and the other two, it felt entirely tangible.

They stood outside the pavilion, braving the increasingly hot sun, not daring to overstep their bounds.

Yang Yifei was filled with remorse, realizing he had been too impatient just now.

He had tried to close the distance with praise right from the start, but ended up committing a taboo instead.

Right at this moment, a voice rang out, breaking the stalemate.

Junior Preceptor Gu.

It was Wang Gangfeng.

This Imperial Censor of the Censorate took a step forward, bowing with cupped hands toward Gu Chengyin in the pavilion, his voice sincere:

These two have come without any ill intent.

Everything is for Great Luo, for the imperial court, and for the common people of the world.

These words carried significant weight.

Gu Chengyin could not help but frown. The rumors were false, a fact the Humble Origins Faction could not possibly be ignorant of.

And yesterday's events had already been sealed by Elder Qiu with a venomous oath, making it even more impossible for the Humble Origins Faction to know.

Yet Wang Gangfeng was now claiming this was for the common people of the world. Could it be that Yang Yifei and Lu Weilou came to the Azure Sword Sect...

Aside from the Immortal Race rumors, was there another extremely important matter, something that even concerned the fate of the world?

Hearing Wang Gangfeng's voice, Yang Yifei woke up as if from a dream. He quickly stepped forward and cupped his hands in agreement:

Lord Wang is right.

Junior Preceptor Gu, regarding the Immortal Race's inheritance, my Haoqi Alliance and E'ren Valley...

Before he could finish, he was interrupted by Gu Chengyin:

Regarding this matter, the Tianshi Mansion will make its own decision.

There is no need for you two to worry about it.

As his words fell, the air froze.

Yang Yifei was stunned.

Wang Gangfeng was stunned.

Even Lu Weilou, whose expression had always been stern and cold, flashed a hint of surprise in his eyes.

The Tianshi Mansion will make its own decision?

The Tianshi Mansion had intervened?

Why would the Tianshi Mansion, which had always remained aloof from worldly affairs, get involved in this?

The rumors were clearly false!

Countless thoughts instantly flashed through Yang Yifei's mind.

The rumors were false; this was an acknowledged fact among the upper echelons, only unknown to the middle and lower tiers.

Therefore, the Tianshi Mansion had ignored it, merely maintaining order and ensuring stability. This was their consistent attitude.

But now, Gu Chengyin was saying the Tianshi Mansion would make its own decision.

What did this mean?

It meant...

Yang Yifei's eyes suddenly widened.

He understood.

If the rumors were false, the Tianshi Mansion naturally would not care.

But now, the Tianshi Mansion had intervened.

There was only one explanation.

The rumors had become true!

As for what exactly was true and in what aspect, only the Tianshi Mansion and Gu Chengyin knew.

Yang Yifei took a deep breath, his gaze toward Gu Chengyin now filled with complete submission.

He knew why Gu Chengyin spoke this way.

Because a truly smart person would not spell out exactly what had happened, as that would leave something to be used against them.

But the intervention of the Tianshi Mansion was in itself a signal carrying massive amounts of information.

Those who understood this signal would naturally understand.

Those who did not understand were not worthy of understanding.

Yang Yifei took a deep breath, then bowed deeply once again toward Gu Chengyin in the pavilion.

This time, the bow was even deeper than before.

It was more than ninety degrees.

His voice carried genuine admiration:

Junior Preceptor Gu, I submit.

Wang Gangfeng and Lu Weilou exchanged a glance, both seeing the solemnity in each other's eyes.

They did not know what Yang Yifei had figured out.

But they knew Yang Yifei would not inexplicably bow again for no reason.

There must be something they had failed to see.

Inside the pavilion, the corners of Gu Chengyin's mouth curled into an extremely subtle arc.

He had originally thought this Yang Yifei was eager for quick success and instant benefits.

Now it seemed he actually had some brains.

Since his goal had been achieved, Gu Chengyin no longer put on airs, and his tone became much more polite:

It is hot outside. Please come in and chat.

As soon as these words were spoken, the three men outside the pavilion simultaneously breathed a sigh of relief.

Yang Yifei straightened up, a thin layer of sweat already beading on his forehead, whether from the heat or the tension.

The three filed in, stepping into the pavilion.

The pavilion was quite large, offering plenty of space.

The floor was paved with bluestone, with a stone table in the center surrounded by several stone stools.

The pillars were carved with patterns of pines and cranes symbolizing longevity; the paint was mottled, revealing traces of the passage of time.

Gu Chengyin remained seated on his original stone stool.

Lin Qingyan still stood by his side.

Although there were vacant stone stools, Lin Qingyan did not sit, choosing only to stand.

Her gaze swept over the three men who entered, as if looking at three rocks.

Yet it was precisely this gaze that kept Yang Yifei and the others from daring to get too close.

They consciously chose to lean and sit against the railing at the edge of the pavilion, their movements cautious, terrified of disturbing anything.

Once the three were seated, their eyes fell uniformly on Gu Chengyin.

Gu Chengyin looked at them and gave a slight nod.

Speak.

Just one word.

Yang Yifei knew it was his turn and slowly began:

Junior Preceptor Gu, do you know about the Faction War?

The Faction War.

As these words came out, Gu Chengyin's eyes flickered, and he nodded slightly:

I have heard of it.

But it was only something he had heard of. Gu Chengyin had too many things to pay attention to.

The overt and covert struggles in the imperial court, the undercurrents surging in the Divine Capital, the shifting winds of the Tianshi Mansion, Emperor Luo's movements, and so on.

These matters already occupied the vast majority of his energy.

Naturally, he had not delved deeply into a place like the Faction War, where people shed blood and sacrificed their lives.

Hearing this, Yang Yifei showed no surprise.

He knew a bit about what kind of person Gu Chengyin was.

Even though they were of similar age, and Gu Chengyin might even be slightly younger than him.

The gap between them, whether in methods, status, or personal strength, was far too vast, like an uncrossable chasm.

Originally, Yang Yifei thought that being able to control the Haoqi Alliance with the backing of the Humble Origins Faction at his age meant he had boundless prospects and was a dragon among men, one in a billion.

Yet, a Gu Chengyin had emerged in the Divine Capital; at the same age, he had almost reached the pinnacle of officialdom.

He was even deeply favored by Luo Zhao, with rumors saying the two had already pledged their love.

Before becoming an official, seeing Gu Chengyin was like a frog in a well looking up at the moon.

After becoming an official, seeing Gu Chengyin was like a mayfly looking up at the vast blue sky.

Yang Yifei steadied his mind and continued:

Then do you know about...

The Demon Race?

The Demon Race.

As these words were spoken, Gu Chengyin's expression finally changed.

It was not shock, nor was it panic.

It was interest.

Genuine interest.

Even Lin Qingyan, who stood beside him, forever cold as frost, flashed a hint of intrigue in her eyes.

This change did not escape Yang Yifei's eyes, bringing joy to his heart.

There was a chance.

Gu Chengyin looked at Yang Yifei and said slowly:

Tell me about it.

Just a few words.

This made Yang Yifei even happier; as long as Gu Chengyin was interested, things would be easy to discuss.

His only fear was a lack of interest.

Junior Preceptor Gu, it is like this.

Yang Yifei paused, organized his words, and continued:

In the recent Faction War, we discovered traces suspected to belong to the Demon Race.