"Year's end?" Longqing's eyes lit up. "That's just a month away!"
His mood lifted instantly, and the flush on his face deepened. Elated, he raised his cup repeatedly to toast the two of them. The Yin Wanderer only drank three times before setting down her cup, no longer partaking. Li Xun, however, had thoughts weighing on his mind—and the palace wine was truly exquisite—so he drank a few more. Though not drunk, a warm blush tinged his cheeks.
He was already striking in appearance—refined, composed, bearing a quiet grace dulled only slightly by Qingyin's aura-concealing techniques. Now, with the faint flush of wine blooming on his face, he radiated a kind of glow rarely seen.
Longqing caught sight of him and momentarily stunned, laughed aloud. "Daoist brother's face… seems strangely familiar. Could it be that we were destined to meet in a past life, tied by immortal fate?"
A chill raced down Li Xun's spine. A sudden dread welled up inside him, as if some long-buried alarm had been tripped. His appearance bore faint traces of resemblance to his father and brothers. Though time and cultivation had reshaped his face, small details—the slant of the eyes, the shape of the brows—might still betray his bloodline.
It didn't matter if this foolish emperor noticed something. But if the Yin Wanderer began to suspect, started tugging at that thread, then the truth behind the Blood Wanderer might unravel completely.
When he thought of the deadly Blood Nightmare in his chest, he couldn't help but break out in a cold sweat.
What made it worse was the feeling—just barely perceptible—that the Yin Wanderer was now regarding him a little differently. He could sense the shift. The more nervous he became, the faster his mind worked, frantically turning over ways to sidestep this sudden, silent crisis.
Just then, a young eunuch walked up briskly. In front of the pavilion, he first bowed respectfully to the Yin Wanderer, and then approached Longqing.
"Your Majesty, the princes and ministers are waiting outside. They have been standing by for some time."
Longqing glared at him. "Fool! I am here learning celestial arts from the National Preceptor herself. What mood do I have to listen to their noisy nonsense? Let them wait!"
The eunuch bowed and retreated, sweat pouring down his face—only to be stopped by the Yin Wanderer's voice.
"Matters of court cannot be taken lightly. Your Majesty, it's best you attend to governance. As for my disciple and I, we must also begin preparations for the pill furnace. Regarding the needed materials, we ask Your Majesty to exert a bit more effort."
Longqing dared not object. He hurriedly nodded, "Of course—certainly!"
The Yin Wanderer said no more. She rose to leave. Li Xun naturally followed suit.
As he turned, he glanced sideways and caught sight of Longqing, who had already stood to respectfully watch them go.
They strolled slowly through the imperial garden. Li Xun walked slightly behind, head lowered, but his mind was still replaying the image of Longqing's sycophantic, overly respectful fat face.
Up ahead, the Yin Wanderer suddenly asked, "Still not used to it?"
"…What?"
"You're only seventeen, maybe eighteen. You've cultivated for what, ten years? You're probably still not used to seeing the mortal emperor, a so-called True Dragon Son of Heaven, bowing and scraping like that, are you?"
"…Ah…"
Li Xun had no response. She'd read his mind almost entirely. And perhaps there was even a touch of… sorrow in it. Like watching a proud creature stumble to its death.
"It seems your heart is still far from the path of true cultivation."
Li Xun never expected that the Yin Wanderer would speak to him like this—frank, personal. In such a setting, even the smallest shift in tone carried weight.
Unfortunately, whatever mood she was in to speak… lasted no more than a few lines. After saying that, she fell silent again.
And just then, a group of people approached from the far end of the path.
Li Xun raised his head casually—but the moment his eyes landed on the man at the head of the procession, his entire body tensed.
The man was dressed in an imperial purple robe embroidered with a coiled serpent-dragon. A golden crown sat atop his head. His steps were firm, almost regal, exuding an effortless dominance. Even among the nobles trailing behind him, his presence stood out like a thunderclap in clear skies.
He was someone you simply couldn't ignore—even if you wanted to.
Li Xun drew in a deep breath.
That broad, angular face… he hadn't seen it in nearly ten years. And though time had etched a few lines onto it, that expression—that imposing, stern expression that commanded respect without anger—hadn't changed in the slightest.
His aura had not changed in the slightest!
That man was none other than his father—Prince Fu, Li Xin.
The moment Li Xun's gaze fell upon that familiar face, Li Xin's eyes swept past him as well. But it was just that—a brief glance, impassive and fleeting—before his attention shifted to the Yin Wanderer.
A dull pressure tightened in Li Xun's chest. He couldn't name the feeling. He only knew it wasn't pleasant.
Li Xin offered a faint, restrained smile and gave a slight bow. "National Preceptor, I trust Your Excellency is well. Your discussion with His Majesty has concluded?"
The Yin Wanderer gave a soft reply, indifferent in tone and barely acknowledging him. She clearly had no desire for conversation. Li Xin wasn't offended. He merely turned his eyes toward Li Xun again—and Li Xun's heart skipped two beats in spite of himself.
"This young man is…?"
The Yin Wanderer repeated the same fabricated explanation she'd used to fool Longqing earlier, only lightly adjusting it. What had sounded convincing to the emperor, though, likely held less weight here.
Li Xin's expression betrayed nothing. His thoughts were unreadable. The Yin Wanderer didn't seem to care, but Li Xun could barely feel his own limbs. Fortunately, his facial stiffness had always passed for cold composure—no one could tell the difference, and so, he managed not to lose face.
He watched as Li Xin nodded faintly, then shifted to one side to allow the officials behind him to greet the National Preceptor. Li Xun knew all too well that he couldn't afford to show a trace of strangeness now—yet his gaze betrayed him, locked to Li Xin like a needle to magnet.
Until he appeared.
A boy—perhaps a few years younger than Li Xun—walked quietly behind Li Xin. He was shorter than the adults around him and had been obscured by Li Xin's broad frame, making him easy to overlook.
But once Li Xin had stepped aside, the boy's figure emerged.
He wore a robe of muted teal embroidered with elegant bamboo patterns. A jade coronet rested on his head, adorned with a few shimmering pearls, lending him an aura of nobility and quiet dignity. Though his face was still soft with youth, his eyes… his eyes were sharp, glacial. Cold and clear, like an autumn lake—bottomless and still.
Li Xun's breath caught. That face—it bore a faint resemblance to his own. He didn't know why, but a chill swept through him.
As if sensing his gaze, the boy looked over, offering a polite, curious expression—but those chilling eyes scanned him slowly, inch by inch, as though memorizing every detail. Every pore.
Li Xun stared back—and it was like gazing into a mirror. Not a reflection of what he was now, but of the boy he had once been in Prince Fu's manor—untouched by true power, untested by real danger.
Li Xun exhaled softly, letting the cold in his chest disperse. His gaze turned icy, and as it met the youth's, a sharp light flashed in his eyes.
The boy's face twitched, and he looked away, clearly shaken.
Still too green…
The evaluation rang quietly in his heart, and strangely, his mood lightened.
But the relief was short-lived.
A prickling chill climbed up his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
Li Xun's neck stiffened. He didn't need to turn his head to know that the Yin Wanderer was watching him now—with keen interest.
I'm screwed!
...
Everyone at court knew that the Emperor's most favored confidant was the female National Preceptor—the one hailed for her beauty that could topple cities and nations, and her fathomless, unfathomable power.
Her special status was no secret.
You could tell the emperor's treatment of her even just from the residence he bestowed upon her.
Ordinarily, the imperial court would grant Taoist temples located near the capital. But for Yin Wanderer alone, it was a residence personally appointed by the emperor—Jing Garden, one of the seven great gardens of the capital, which had once been the capital residence of the retired Grand Chancellor who had returned to his hometown.
And yet, for all its splendor, the State Preceptor did not live in lavish luxury. Of the hundreds of staff that once bustled about the estate, over seventy percent had been dismissed. Only a dozen remained, tasked with cleaning and maintaining the grounds.
The great manor now appeared ancient, calm, and still, faintly exuding an aura of immortality.
But to Li Xun, walking through the empty courtyards and listening to the echoes of his own footsteps, the atmosphere felt far too eerie.
Especially when he knew that beyond those quiet gardens, a terrifying woman—no different from a demon from hell—was waiting for him.
The Yin Wanderer—was perhaps the most enigmatic, inscrutable figure among the three million cultivators of the Tongxuan Realm.
She was ranked among the Three Wanderers, a notorious figure in the Tongxuan Realm known for her villainous ways. Unlike Jade Wanderer, who was infamous for his lecherousness, or Blood Wanderer, known for his bloodlust, Yin Wanderer was feared for her strange and unpredictable actions, and her cruelty beyond what most could endure.
Jade Wanderer, though lustful, was renowned for his eloquence and poetry. He was considered the greatest master of sound-techniques in the Tongxuan Realm, and his literary charm somewhat tempered his infamous debauchery. Blood Wanderer, a notorious killer, was efficient in his work—swift and merciless. When his victims died, they did so without suffering; it was clean, final, and without prolonged agony.
But all those who had fallen into Yin Wanderer's hands.... had died in agony that no words could fully capture.
Yin Wanderer excelled in the art of dual cultivation, mastering the methods of extracting Qi from both men and women. Moreover, she was exceptionally versed in the Dao of Punishment and Torture. Following her whims, she created the Lotus Eight Secrets —rumored to be nothing but cruel, esoteric techniques capable of reducing even the toughest man into a puddle of helpless weakness!
Take He Zhiyan, the renowned Heavenly Monarch of the Three Emperor Sword Sect, a man known across the Tongxuan Realm for his iron will and indomitable body. He had once single-handedly held off dozens of Underworld Monarch Sect experts alone within the Underworld Yin River Formation, laughing even as his flesh burned to ash—
Even he, two hundred years ago, had barely escaped from Yin Wanderer alive…
Only to become a ruined man. Just the sound of a woman's voice would cause him to collapse into a quivering mass of tears. Could you imagine that? The man now was no more than a worthless, sniveling coward.
Such methods truly made people pale at the mere mention of her name, and one couldn't help but suspect she was a demon unlike any seen in the Three Realms.
In fact, her fearsome reputation even surpassed that of the other two Wanderers!
Facing such a person, the mere fact that Li Xun could still walk normally was already a feat worthy of pride!
Now, summoned before her, he was absolutely certain—Yin Wanderer must have detected something in the way he looked at Li Xin.
At this point, the only question left was whether he would confess willingly... or be forced to.