One month later, in the Xuanwu Hall of the Tai Zhen Sect—renowned as the foremost righteous sect in the Southern Sky—an elderly Daoist with the face of an infant but snow-white hair and beard frowned deeply as he stared at a pale white jade slip in his hand, his expression shifting between gloom and uncertainty.
After a long while, he let out a heavy sigh and suddenly called out toward the hall’s entrance, “Attendants!”
At his command, two middle-aged Daoist priests promptly entered the hall.
“Esteemed Sect Leader, what are your orders?” The two Foundation Establishment-stage Daoists bowed respectfully.
“Deliver this invitation to the Golden Mist Valley in the rear mountains. Inform the Grand Elder that a fourth Great Cultivator has emerged in the Xi Kingdom, and the Falling Cloud Sect has sent an invitation for the grand ceremony. Ask whether the Grand Elder wishes to attend personally or if one of the other Ancestors should go in his stead.” The elderly Daoist handed over the jade slip with a grave expression.
“Yes, Sect Leader. We will personally deliver it to the Ancestor.” The two Daoists paled slightly but quickly responded with deference.
They then took the jade slip and transformed into two streaks of light, swiftly departing the hall and heading toward the rear mountains.
—
The Heavenly Sun Pool was a notorious forbidden zone within the Harmony Sect. Though small—only a few hundred zhang in size—it was perpetually shrouded in thick gray mist. No one, not even the sect’s few Nascent Soul Elders, dared to step into the fog lightly. Under normal circumstances, the area within twenty li of the pool was virtually deserted.
Yet now, standing just ten zhang away from the mist were five or six cultivators of varying attire, men and women alike, all silently gazing at the fog.
“A fourth Great Cultivator… That Han kid has cultivated astonishingly fast. Though I long suspected he would reach this stage eventually, I never imagined he’d advance again in just a hundred years. But since he’s achieved this, it seems I must attend this ceremony in person.” A soft sigh echoed from within the mist.
The cultivators outside remained rigidly silent, none daring to respond.
—
On the edge of an island in the Seven Spirit Archipelago, an unremarkable old man in a blue robe stood at a cliffside, hands clasped behind his back, gazing calmly at the boundless sea.
Yet in one of his hands, he lightly held a white jade slip, faint spiritual light flickering from it.
—
In a pavilion atop Linglong Mountain in the Northern Liang Kingdom, a refined-looking man and a portly elder sat facing each other in wooden chairs.
The elder cautiously asked, “Senior, will you attend the Falling Cloud Sect’s ceremony in person? That man has reached the late Nascent Soul stage at such a young age. With his lifespan, he could dominate the Southern Sky for seven or eight hundred years. If we can mend relations with him, our six sects could rest easy for generations.”
“What? Now that Junior Lei leads your sect, you wish to invite him back to your valley?” the man replied indifferently.
“Senior misunderstands. Given his current status, how could he return to our humble Yellow Maple Valley? But our sect and your palace share some history with him. Establishing goodwill would benefit all six sects.” The elder chuckled awkwardly.
“Don’t count on me to forge connections. Though I was close with Junior Sister Nangong, she severed all contact after leaving with him. However, I will attend the ceremony on behalf of the Veiled Moon Sect.” The man fell silent for a moment before speaking expressionlessly.
“Senior Wu’s attendance would be most ideal.” The elder brightened at this.
“Hmph, no wonder your Yellow Maple Valley is so anxious. Since Fellow Daoist Linghu passed, your valley lacks a Nascent Soul cultivator. Were it not for his pact with that man—and his informing our five sects—your valley might already be expelled from Northern Liang.” The man smirked, casting a sidelong glance at the elder.
“Senior mocks us!” The elder flushed with embarrassment.
—
Two months later, the entire Southern Sky was in an uproar.
Every major cultivation sect received an invitation from the Falling Cloud Sect, announcing that one of their elders had advanced to the late Nascent Soul stage and inviting all to a grand celebration. Though the invitation didn’t name the elder, Han Li’s reputation as the foremost cultivator below the late Nascent Soul stage left little doubt.
Smaller sects accepted with reverence, while larger ones—despite private misgivings—agreed to send at least one elder. Han Li’s name once again echoed across the Southern Sky, from reclusive hermits to cultivation clans and sects. His unprecedented rise became the hottest topic.
Three months later, the ceremony commenced.
Over a hundred Nascent Soul cultivators attended, along with several times as many Core Formation cultivators. Yet Han Li himself appeared only briefly on the first day, speaking just a few words before inviting over a dozen mid-to-late Nascent Soul elders—including the Harmony Sect’s Elder Devil and the Transformation Sect’s Wei Wuyan—to a private gathering in a secluded hall.
When they emerged three days later, every elder looked pale and shaken, especially Wei Wuyan and Elder Devil, whose auras had visibly dimmed. Curious onlookers pressed for details, but the elders either smiled bitterly or shook their heads in fear, refusing to elaborate.
The ceremony lasted half a month, but Han Li never reappeared. Strangely, none of the high-ranking elders protested, and all departed hastily once it ended. Rumors soon spread that Han Li had challenged both Wei Wuyan and Elder Devil simultaneously—and defeated them with ease, using unimaginable treasures and techniques. The stunned elders reportedly witnessed him holding back his full power.
Though most initially dismissed this as absurd, the elders’ collective silence lent credibility. Soon, whispers of Han Li as the “Southern Sky’s Number One Cultivator” began circulating. Even in private, people now spoke his name with hushed reverence.
—
Above the seas near the Seven Spirit Archipelago, a middle-aged Daoist with crystalline skin and a blue-robed elder floated in silence, their expressions dark.
Finally, the elder—none other than Wei Wuyan, one of the Three Great Cultivators—spoke: “Brother Zhiyang, since you’ve sought me out, let’s skip the riddles. Speak plainly.”
The Daoist—Zhiyang of the Righteous Path—replied coolly, “Do you truly not know why I’m here, or are you feigning ignorance?”
Wei Wuyan smirked. “Ah, so the rumors have unsettled even you.”
Zhiyang’s face hardened. “Then it’s true? You and Elder Devil suffered at his hands?”
(Note: The translation continues the narrative faithfully while adapting cultural nuances for readability. Key terms like “Nascent Soul” and sect names are preserved as per xianxia conventions. The tone balances the original’s formality with natural English flow.)
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