Space Town was not a huge place, merely an intricate weave of a few ancient streets, yet it bustled with a surprising number of travelers, all exuding formidable presences—in their own rights, elite and formidable cultivators one could readily identify as top-tier. And yet in this singular location, one could find such powerful individuals as common as cabbages sold in the marketplace.
Xiao Yan, together with Xiao Mei and Xiao Ning, accompanied Master Yao through several of the aged thoroughfares. Along that route, he refrained from lingering on alluring artifacts lining the way, their steps unrelenting toward a distinct target destination. At the road’s end was the terminus of this enigmatic little settlement—the atmosphere around suddenly opened space empty and serene, quiet and still, far from the clamoring earlier. At this endpoint sat an ancient pavilion standing solitary and resolute, an overwhelming aura of age-old magnificence emanating from it—as ageless as time itself, invoking in visitors an instant of grave reverence. Standing vigil in front of the edifice were two old men garbed in gray robes. Expressionless and immovable like sculptures they stood. Yet unmistakable was the heavy tremble of profound aura wafting from their bodies, causing any approaching soul’s heart into a stir—a power reaching even a 6-star Dou Zun, no common feat among even honored guests in the formidable sects such as the Tian Ming sect or the current Xing Yun Pavilion.
From merely this, one could grasp the prestige level surrounding The Great Trade Fair that only transpired here.
“Entry into the Guibao Pavilion isn’t something just any person may experience,” Master Yao mused softly. “One should be bestowed a formal invitation by one of the three leading sects to be permitted access, a pass acquired only through tremendous feat and credibility in power or name. I, though no longer but an echo of a familiar customer, have little trouble reclaiming that privilege.”
Xiao Yan and both maidens nodded softly—an air of sacred gravity lay in their comprehension that such a place defied mere mortal bounds.
Hardly pausing after that note, Master Yao headed directly to the gates, extending a finger from his wide sleeves and snapping—a dart of radiant crimson surged forth, swiftly intercepted into steady hands from the pair that held watch. That dart dissolved into a red-yet-bright Jade Sliver in their palm.
“Enter freely…” Upon acceptance of illumination, the gray-faced sentinels stirred their stonework expressions, scanning the newcomers briefly. Each gestured a sleeve flick, unleashing four jet streams of obsidian energy, which halted and materialized gently into four full-length cloaks made for the shadows.
“The elite within often disguise their identities, hiding their treasuries,” Master Yao explained with a grin, wrapping himself in the black garment, cloaked figure disappearing into its folds. Xiao Yan and friends followed suit without hesitation.
“Let us move forward…” he murmured next.
Crossing the ancient gatepost thresholds, Xiao Yan darted his gaze around within. Though dim, the great hall stood undecorated, mundane at sight—as far from treasure-reflect as possible.
“Follow… please.” The sound emerged unbidden, low and unassuming, from an adjacent side where another gray-cloaked figure advanced toward them, uttering but a few murmured words. As expected, the old man offered little beyond that, guiding them forward toward further darkness, with Master Yao unfazed, clearly acquainted beforehand, his young wards trailing just as closely in their formation.
Wandering the inner halls’ labyrinthine corridors for minutes, they arrived finally before an ornate bronze gate which their guide brought himself to halt. A short respectful bow was given Master Yao’s general direction in silence before the guide disappeared, leaving naught but echoes.
“This is it then,” Master Yao intoned hushed reverence. With those words, reverently, slowly, he pressed the palm to aged bronze, parting its barriers—dim glow pouring forth gently. Without pause nor evasion, foot fell within its light and so went all his followers in tow, eyes blinking rapidly past the glare.
As vision settled, a grand chamber revealed itself, spacious as a half-stadium. Packed within stood stone seats aplenty, and already, cloaked figures filled most with hushed anticipation. Faces shrouded, none could determine the rest beneath veiled identities but all watched as each new entrant brought brief attention followed by discreet speculation—an effort of many to trace clues, to penetrate those black veils in search of truth in faces.
Master Yao returned none of these glances. Choosing a more withdrawn cluster of stones he walked, seating himself before with a graceful sleeve sweep, space itself shuddered faintly about them at some hidden barrier.
“Here lies power without end; secrecy is vital,” he spoke under breath to those close. “One misstep betrays us swiftly.”
Xiao Yan nodded, scanning subtly about. His trained eye caught other such distortions subtly cloaking other clusters as well—an expected vigilance common to all.
“Let us wait,” murmured Yao. With that hush, Master Yao turned his full attention forward into silence, scanning yet more subtly the room’s entirety while silence draped heavily over his trio once again—for two idle mortal hours.
The passing time carried gradually others in black cloaks into this sacred chamber until over 100 cloaked attendees sat among stone benches.
Then softly, Master Yao sighed inward in thought. Xiao Yan gave a curious glance.
“Found something new?”
“A few… it’s seems someone we are rather familiar with has arrived…” With that coy remark, no other detail unfolded. Xiao Yan shrugged at that playful evasion.
“Dong…!” Without prior fanfare, a rich, echoing chime sounded from within the heart of this vast chamber. From distorted space before them, an old man, completely gray-haired with age itself reflected in every tremble, emerged into full light.
Beneath his dark cloth veil raised Xiao Yan’s brow—his senses detecting a terrifying might from the frail exterior ahead. An unmistakable aura, belonging only to Dou Saints, stirred faintly yet steadily in his field. The figure’s presence bore terrifying compression, an aura suggesting a step on threshold to Half-Saint transformation.
“Nine-Revolving Peak of Dou Zun…” Xiao Yan pondered this quietly.
“That elderly gentleman you see was already famed across the Eastern Regions at their first meeting—the Mountain Warden of Baoshan, revered as an unrivaled treasure connoisseur known for his razor-sharp judgment, standing on the brink now of reaching Saint threshold after ages,” whispered Yao.
“Nine-stage Transformation Peak Dou Zun!” Hearing this title, Cai Lin and Xiaoyi cast wary glances at once—the thought echoing that, truly, Zhong Province deserved all accolades as land hosting cultivation’s highest echelons, where a presence this grand was host yet not merely another competitor. Here was a being of such potential he might transform from human cultivator to near-Saint—simmered, ripening with raw energy.
“He who leads Baoshan Mountain…” Master Yao added. At his own words, Baoshan Mountain elder had returned their eyes, surveying with his ancient gaze.
“Ho-ho fellow traders. It’s been a while since our last gathering,” boomed an oddly warm croak into ears collectively gathered, the hall however answered his voice with an unshakable mute reverence, save for the occasional breath or rustle of robes.
Unbothered, with a knowing smile at expected tradition, the old man gave a flick of cloak—a prison of warped space enveloping him lightly as protective wardance against unwanted eyes and ears alike.
“Just my standard routine. Don’t mind this,” he added.
Stepping to a pedestal ahead now, coughing lightly once, clarity came to his voice.
“The guests appear mostly accounted for. Time to get us started then. A little pleasantries and we get to our matters.”
With that pronouncement, every cloaked eye centered upon him with unified anticipation—a hunger brimming, each guest already eager for wonders beyond the mundane. None needed reminding that this gathering’s offerings defied average standards entirely.
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