The teacup landed on the table with a crisp sound.
The humble smile on Lin Tianzheng’s face stiffened slightly.
He glanced at the lady beside him.
Madam Su gave him an encouraging look.
He took a deep breath, as if making a firm decision.
He left his seat and, together with Madam Su, knelt before Ye Chen once again.
This time, it was a full kowtow—prostration with hands and forehead to the ground.
“Immortal Master, please forgive my boldness.”
Lin Tianzheng’s voice no longer held any pretense, filled instead with sorrow and earnestness.
“I, Lin Tianzheng, am not the true head of the Lin Family. I am merely a mortal, powerless and insignificant. What virtue or ability do I have to manage such a vast family estate?”
Ye Chen listened quietly, not interrupting.
“The only reason the Lin Family was able to establish itself in a place like Zixiao City, where hidden dragons and crouching tigers reside, is because of my elder brother, Lin Tianxiong. My brother… he is also a cultivator.”
There was a trace of choking in Lin Tianzheng’s voice.
“Three years ago, my brother heard rumors of an ancient ruin appearing deep within West Mountain outside the city. He went alone to seek fortune. But ever since, he has vanished without a trace—three years without returning.”
He lifted his head, eyes bloodshot.
“With my brother alive, no petty villains dared covet us. Now that his fate is unknown, the other families in the city have long since lost their restraint, harassing the Lin Family’s properties both openly and in secret.”
“As a temporary family head, I lack cultivation to maintain order within, and have no strong allies outside to rely on. Truly, I am powerless. The Lin Family’s foundation is on the verge of collapse.”
At this point, he bowed his head heavily to the ground.
“This time, daring to issue a commission was truly an act of desperation. I beg the Immortal Master… I beg you to investigate the West Mountain ruins.
If… if you can find any trace of my brother and rescue him from danger, the Lin Family is willing to offer the ancestral treasure, the Spirit-Focusing Pearl, as thanks. We ask only for your aid!”
Ye Chen’s gaze finally shifted from the teacup before him to the couple kneeling on the ground.
He could see clearly that the two spoke no lies.
He reached out his hand, lifting it gently.
A wave of irresistible spiritual power arose out of nothing, lifting Lin Tianzheng and Madam Su from the floor and returning them steadily to their seats.
This silent yet miraculous technique filled the couple’s hearts with even greater awe.
“The location of the ruins.”
Ye Chen spoke calmly, getting straight to the point.
“In… in the Mist Stone Valley, west of the city,”
Lin Tianzheng replied hastily, then carefully added,
“Immortal Master, the hour is late. Might you rest in the manor tonight? At dawn tomorrow, this humble one will personally guide you.”
Ye Chen pondered for a moment.
For the past two years, he had either been practicing swordsmanship on the Star Observatory or meditating in the quiet rooms of the Sword Courtyard.
Sleep had long become a foreign experience to him.
“Very well.”
He nodded in agreement.
—
Not long after, Ye Chen was led to an extremely luxurious guest chamber.
The floor was covered with thick Western region carpets, muffling all sound beneath his feet.
In the corner, a three-legged bronze burner released soothing incense, its pale blue smoke curling through the air.
The bed was made of fine Golden Nanmu, the canopy woven from unknown but exquisite silk, as thin as mist and cool to the touch.
Lin Tianzheng and Madam Su escorted him to the door, then withdrew with respectful bows.
Ye Chen pushed the door open and entered, but paused slightly as he crossed the threshold.
Beside the wide bed sat a young girl.
She looked to be sixteen or seventeen, dressed in a light pink gauze dress, her figure slender.
Though not a stunning beauty, her features were gentle and pleasing, exuding a soft elegance unique to the riverlands of Jiangnan.
At this moment, she had her head lowered, pale hands nervously twisting at her dress hem.
Her long eyelashes trembled like butterfly wings, betraying her inner anxiety.
At the sound of the door, she flinched, then looked up sharply.
Seeing Ye Chen, her delicate face turned bright red.
She hurriedly rose, offering a graceful curtsey.
Her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s,
“Y-Young Master…”
Ye Chen’s brows furrowed ever so slightly.
“Why are you here, Miss? Did the Lin Family head bring you to the wrong place?”
His voice remained as cold as ever, revealing neither joy nor anger.
He spoke as he prepared to turn away and find a quiet place to meditate.
However, just as he turned, a gentle touch clung to his sleeve.
The girl, finding unexpected courage, stepped forward, slender fingers clutching his sleeve tightly, head still bowed, not daring to meet his eyes.
“Young Master… please… feel free…”
Her voice trembled, yet carried a hint of resolve.
Ye Chen understood at once.
So this was the hospitality of mortal noble families?
Such a clumsy yet direct method to form a deeper bond with him.
He gently pulled his sleeve free, widening the distance between them.
“Please leave, Miss,”
His tone remained calm.
“Ye has no interest in such matters.”
At his words, the girl trembled, her eyes filling with tears.
She seemed about to speak, but facing Ye Chen’s unflinching gaze, all her words were blocked in her throat.
Anxious and aggrieved, she made a bolder move.
Biting her lip, she slowly raised her hand and began to untie the silk belt at her waist.
Ye Chen didn’t bother to say another word.
He raised his right hand casually, fingers flicking.
A wave of spiritual energy swept up, lifting the half-undressed, bewildered girl and carrying her out the door, where she landed gently on the floor.
“Click.”
The door closed on its own, shutting out the girl’s disbelieving gaze.
Ye Chen formed a Qinsheng Technique, dispersing the ambiguous scent in the air—a mixture of the girl’s fragrance and the incense.
He walked to the bed, paying no heed to the luxurious bedding, and lay down fully clothed, closing his eyes.
His spirit sank into stillness.
Consciousness drifted into a long-lost dream.
—
Dreams were bizarre and illusory.
He seemed to be standing in a shattered void, with torrents of spiritual power raging around him.
Not far away, a small figure stood proudly, the white dress of a direct disciple whipping in the wind.
Her face bore a coldness and resolve Ye Chen had never seen before.
In her hand, a long sword shimmered with spiritual light, its tip pointing forward.
Across from her, Xiao Liuli wore splendid robes, expression arrogant, eyes burning with obsessive fire.
“Ye Chen is mine. You’re just a lucky maid who happened to stay by his side. Why?”
“Because it’s me standing with him, not you.”
The small voice was as cold as ice.
Terrifying spiritual fluctuations clashed and exploded between the two.
Suddenly, a sword light without emotion slashed from the side, forcibly separating them.
Ling Qingshuang’s figure appeared silently, eyes closed, a strange yet satisfied smile on her face.
“Master is tired. She needs to rest. You’re both… too noisy.”
The gazes of all three intertwined, their emotions—killing intent, possessiveness, madness—forming an invisible net.
The next moment, three surges of overwhelming spiritual power erupted, sword light and spells fusing into a torrent of destruction that swept toward Ye Chen’s perspective!
“Buzz—”
Ye Chen’s eyes snapped open.
Outside the window, the sky was just beginning to lighten, casting golden rays onto the floor.
He lay quietly, feeling the faint trembling in his chest.
“A dream…”
He shook his head helplessly, sitting up.
“Come to think of it, this is the first time… I’ve had a nightmare.”
He gathered his thoughts and stepped out the door.
Outside, Lin Tianzheng was already waiting, a mixture of anxiety and unease on his face.
He held a brocade box in his hands.
Upon seeing Ye Chen, he hurried forward and opened it.
Inside lay a string of eighteen jade beads, each translucent and glowing faintly—a fine spiritual artifact.
“Immortal Master, this is—”
Ye Chen glanced at the Spirit-Focusing Pearl, then looked away.
“Keep it. I require no reward.”
He cut off any further words from Lin Tianzheng, his tone brooking no argument.
“Lead the way.”
Lin Tianzheng wanted to invite him to breakfast, but Ye Chen stopped him with a single glance.
Ye Chen had already noticed the hidden gazes watching the manor from the shadows.
All of Lin Tianzheng’s actions were for show—deceiving enemies into thinking the Lin Family had allied with the Zixiao Sword Sect.
He cared nothing for such mundane schemes.
Agreeing to rest for one night was already his limit.
At that moment, with a thought, he wrapped Lin Tianzheng and himself in spiritual power.
The two shot into the sky, a streak of light racing westward from the city.
Encased in spiritual force, Lin Tianzheng dared only to keep his eyes shut, trembling as he pointed the way through the rushing wind.
At length, the beam descended.
They landed before a desolate valley, its entrance strewn with jagged stones and choked with poisonous mist.
A weathered stone stele stood crookedly at the mouth of the valley, its surface still faintly bearing the words Forbidden Land.
The ruins had been reached.