The arrival of the Celestial Clan caused many to show peculiar expressions. Quite a few had heard of the enmity between this clan and the Desolate One.
Shi Hao was surprised. He had just “taken” the Flying Immortal Stone from their clan, and now they had come knocking. Was this to mend relations? He suspected they mostly wanted the stone back.
But he had no intention of returning it. This stone was of immense importance to him—it resonated with the Void Immortal Gold Scripture, forming supreme scriptures. If not for his recent search for a way back to the lower realm, he would have already begun studying it.
“The Celestial Clan’s elder requests an audience,” someone reported again.
Earlier, Qin Yining, in a fit of anger, had tried to drive the clan’s envoy away, intending to keep only Yun Xi. But the Celestial Clan’s experts had refused to leave, insisting on a meeting.
“Fine, let them in,” Qin Yining said.
She knew that what they truly feared was Shi Hao—her eldest son. They dreaded the day he would grow powerful enough to settle accounts with them.
Her anger stemmed from her heartache for her son. Back then, Shi Hao had acted with goodwill, only to be repaid with malice, nearly losing his life.
She wanted to use this opportunity to vent her anger and demand justice for her son.
When the Celestial Clan’s elder entered, he was startled to see other important figures from major sects in the hall—even sect leaders.
Earlier, he had thought he was being humble by not leaving after being refused an audience, believing he was showing respect to Mount Buxu. Now, it seemed his actions had merely been “rational.”
As an envoy, he was naturally eloquent. The elder spoke courteously, avoiding past grievances and instead expressing a willingness to offer compensation.
“What kind of compensation?” Shi Ziling asked coldly, his own anger simmering. He found the clan’s past actions excessively harsh.
The elder transmitted a message privately, offering to lend the Flying Immortal Stone to Shi Hao temporarily, to be returned later.
Shi Ziling remained indifferent.
Shi Hao, however, merely smiled and said nothing. After all, this was his spoils of war. The decision wasn’t the Celestial Clan’s to make—it depended on his mood.
The elder sighed inwardly. He knew the stone was likely gone for good. Perhaps their only hope now lay with Yun Xi.
Swallowing his pride, he brought up the past, admitting the Celestial Clan had acted rashly and should not have condemned the Desolate One.
He cautiously suggested that Yun Xi, who had once shared a close bond with Shi Hao, could accompany him to the lower realm.
The hall was filled with envoys from other sects, even sect leaders. These words should have been spoken privately, but Qin Yining had denied him that chance, forcing him to speak openly.
Whispers broke out among the crowd, making the Celestial Clan’s representatives flush with embarrassment.
After all, the Celestial Clan was a major sect. Even in decline, its prestige remained. In ancient times, it had once dominated the three thousand provinces!
Though no longer as mighty, it still held influence and remnants of its former glory. Yet today, it was groveling—a shocking sight.
A young woman in purple robes entered the hall. Her long violet hair cascaded naturally, her skin flawless, her eyes large and captivating. Her beauty was beyond words, enough to stir even the hearts of ancient elders who had long since hardened their emotions.
Yun Xi’s face flushed with embarrassment and frustration. Being presented like this in front of everyone was humiliating.
She resented her clan’s arrangements.
In the past, she and Shi Hao had been close friends. But now, she was being pushed forward like a bargaining chip—far from an equal exchange. The contrast between then and now left her speechless.
“Yun Xi, please sit,” Shi Hao invited, not wishing to see her discomfort under everyone’s gaze.
He found the Celestial Clan’s actions far too pragmatic, utterly disregarding Yun Xi’s feelings. If he were in her place, he’d feel the same.
“Elder, I am not a commodity. I am a living, breathing Celestial!” Yun Xi transmitted silently, refusing to shame her clan publicly.
But many present were experts capable of intercepting such messages—especially sect leaders and grand elders.
Shi Hao heard it too.
The elder, noticing the odd expressions around him, realized what had happened. His face darkened—today had been one humiliation after another for the Celestial Clan.
“I quite like this girl. She may stay. You may leave,” Qin Yining said. Though her cultivation paled next to the elder’s, her son’s might gave her confidence.
This wasn’t bullying—it was cold retribution for the Celestial Clan’s past actions.
The atmosphere grew tense. After all, this was the Celestial Clan, a once-dominant force. Some stepped in to mediate.
Soon, other great clans arrived.
Knowing Shi Hao might depart soon, they seized this rare chance to resolve conflicts.
Some were old enemies, others strangers seeking goodwill.
Surprisingly, even the Demon Sunflower Garden sent envoys.
They brought no gifts, their attitude indifferent—clearly here to gather information rather than reconcile.
Next came the Netherworld, their black skeletal envoy exuding deathly aura but presenting a gift nonetheless.
The Celestial Nation also arrived, their gift modest, their demeanor aloof—likely just observing.
Their presence shocked many. At the very least, it signaled that these factions were unwilling to further antagonize the Desolate One in the near future.
To some, Shi Hao’s rise seemed unstoppable.
Even those with deep-seated grudges appeared ready to negotiate privately.
Though their enthusiasm was lacking, their arrival drew even more sects to visit.
“Venerable Duomo of the Western Sect has arrived,” came an announcement.
The crowd stirred. Duomo was a revered figure of the Western Sect, ancient and formidable.
Clad in tattered crimson silk embroidered with gold, he exuded an archaic, profound aura.
Many recognized it as a relic from the previous era—a kasaya, the signature armor of ancient monks.
Duomo’s gift was a dull, yellowish-black bead. The Fearless Lion beside Shi Hao fixed its gaze upon it hungrily.
It was an ancient monk’s relic—priceless.
The crowd was awed. Artifacts from the previous era were treasures, let alone the final “bones of the Dao” left behind after nirvana.
“No grudge is too great to be resolved with this relic,” the Golden Lion muttered, staring covetously.
Only the unfathomable Western Sect could offer such a gift.
Shi Hao accepted it without hesitation.
Next came visitors from the Borderlands—the Tuoba Family and the Wei Family’s Four Phoenixes. These were eternal families.
Though their younger generation, like Tuoba Yulong, remained in the Nine Heavens, their appearance caused a sensation.
Even eternal families had come to bid farewell—a clear sign of Shi Hao’s dazzling achievements in the Imperial Pass, far surpassing rumors.
Then came the Heaven Mending Sect, a force from the three thousand provinces tied to the Heaven Mending Dao of the Nine Heavens.
They delivered a letter: Yue Chan and Qing Yi were preparing to merge into one. If Shi Hao had time, he could wait, as she would visit the three thousand provinces afterward.
The envoy spoke courteously to Qin Yining, subtly hinting at a shift in stance.
The crowd was stunned. The Heaven Mending Sect, backed by an eternal lineage, had always forbidden its saintesses from marrying. Yet now, they seemed to be loosening their stance.
“How laughable. You’re all scrambling to reconcile with a dead man. Is it really necessary?”
A cold, mocking voice rang out beyond the Qin Clan’s gates, shaking the skies like roaring waves.
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