On either side of the grand hall, seated guests—both men and women—wore faint smiles, each exuding an air of extraordinary grace.
After a short while, the palace-robed women in the hall finally concluded their dance. They bowed respectfully to the elderly man seated at the head of the hall before filing out in an orderly manner.
“Venerable Hu, this batch of attendants seems even more refined than the last. It appears Fellow Daoist Yu and the others have put great effort into this matter,” remarked a blue-robed scholar seated on the left with a smile.
“Heh, in my long life, I’ve had few indulgences—only the allure of women has ever truly ensnared me. Perhaps the day I overcome this weakness will be the day my cultivation breaks through anew. If my junior Yu and the others truly wish to please me, I’d rather they focus on their own cultivation. If even one of them could ascend to the Deity Transformation stage, then even if I were to pass one day, the Heavenly Demon Sect would never suffer humiliation at the hands of others,” the wooden-crowned elder replied with a light cough, his tone indifferent.
“Venerable Hu speaks too modestly. The cultivators of the Heavenly Demon Sect are but a step away from the Deity Transformation stage—it’s only a matter of time. And given the sect’s current prestige, who in the human realm would dare provoke you?” The blue-robed scholar chuckled obsequiously.
“Is that so? Yet I’ve heard that the Yin Luo Sect is on the verge of being expelled from the Ten Great Demon Sects. Once, they held the undisputed top position for millennia, their influence no less than ours today. And now? Even if they manage to preserve their legacy, they’ve been reduced to a second-rate sect,” the wooden-crowned elder retorted with a cold laugh.
The blue-robed scholar and the other cultivators exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of the elder’s intent. For a moment, no one dared respond.
“I’ve heard that the Yin Luo Sect recently lost seven or eight Nascent Soul elders under mysterious circumstances—even Fellow Daoist Fang of the Yin Luo Sect met his end. Strangely, they have no leads on the perpetrator. Could they have offended a Deity Transformation senior?” A brocade-robed man deftly shifted the topic, probing cautiously.
“Ah, so most of you have come today because of the Yin Luo Sect’s affairs. Rest assured, while the culprit remains unknown, it was certainly none of the old fellows from Great Jin—otherwise, I’d have heard of it. It may have been an outsider, some ancient monster passing through. But should they strike again, we won’t stand idly by.” Hu Qinglei’s half-lidded eyes flashed with a sharp glint before fading just as quickly.
Relieved by his words, the other cultivators tactfully dropped the subject, turning instead to anecdotes from the cultivation world.
“By the way, Venerable Hu, your last concubine ceremony was two hundred years ago. What exceptional cultivator has caught your eye this time?” A green-robed woman in her thirties asked with a light laugh, her demeanor charming.
At her question, the others perked up with interest.
Though the Heavenly Demon Sect’s Grand Elder was known for his fondness for women, few in the palace held the official status of concubine.
“Taking concubines again was unexpected even for me. These three women are exceptional in both beauty and cultivation. One among them surpasses the other two—she is the primary reason for my decision.” A faint smile crossed Hu Qinglei’s face as he spoke of them.
“If Venerable Hu praises them so highly, might we see them before the ceremony?” A fierce-looking, disheveled monk couldn’t resist asking.
The others, equally curious, nodded in agreement.
“We cultivators need not abide by mortal taboos. If you wish to meet them, so be it. I’ll have them serve you wine.” The wooden-crowned elder agreed readily.
The monk paled slightly, hastily waving his hands in refusal.
But Hu Qinglei merely gestured, and a palace-robed maiden stepped forward. “Summon the three fairies,” he ordered.
“Yes, this servant will—” Before she could finish, a streak of red light shot into the hall, materializing as a message talisman before the elder.
Hu Qinglei’s eyes gleamed as he snatched it from the air. The talisman burst into flames, its contents revealed.
“Ah, so Fellow Daoist Feng and Fellow Daoist Xiang have arrived—and brought a guest of honor. Who could warrant such attention from those two?” His expression flickered with curiosity before he extinguished the flames with a wave.
“Could it be Senior Feng of Sky Beyond Island and Senior Xiang of West Spirit Mountain?” The blue-robed scholar gasped.
The other cultivators tensed visibly.
“Who else? But they mention an outsider. I’m intrigued. Since they’re at the gates, I must greet them.” Hu Qinglei chuckled.
“Then we shall pay our respects as well,” the brocade-robed man declared, rising hastily. The others echoed his sentiment.
The wooden-crowned elder nodded and strode toward the exit, the retinue following closely.
Beyond the raging blizzard enveloping the Demon Yaksha Mountain, a vast yellow barrier shielded the palace below. Though slightly obscured, the structures within were discernible.
Above the barrier hovered three figures—two elders and a young man, motionless and composed.
Xiang Zhili, Feng Laoguai, and Han Li.
“The Demon Palace has grown since my last visit. It seems Venerable Hu’s harem has expanded. Tsk, being the Grand Elder of the top demon sect does have its perks,” Feng Laoguai mused, eyeing the sprawling complex.
“Envious, Brother Feng? A word to Venerable Hu, and he’d gladly make you a fellow Grand Elder—complete with a palace of your own,” Xiang Zhili teased.
“No, no. My cultivation thrives in solitude. A place like this would erode my mental clarity over time,” Feng Laoguai demurred with a shake of his head.
Xiang Zhili smiled but said no more, for a group of cultivators was ascending from the palace.
Han Li, silent for most of the journey, focused intently. The wooden-crowned elder at the lead was unmistakably a Deity Transformation cultivator. But as Han Li’s gaze swept over the others, he stiffened slightly.
“Brother Han, do you recognize someone?” Xiang Zhili turned, surprised.
“One face from a past encounter,” Han Li replied evenly, withdrawing his gaze.
“I see.” Xiang Zhili nodded noncommittally.
The wooden-crowned elder reached the barrier, forming hand seals and murmuring an incantation. The barrier rippled, parting to admit the trio.
Xiang Zhili and Feng Laoguai entered without hesitation. Han Li paused briefly before following as a streak of azure light. The barrier sealed seamlessly behind them.
Moments later, they stood before Hu Qinglei and his entourage.
“Brother Xiang, Fellow Daoist Feng, you’re late. Word reached me of your early departure. Did something delay you?” Hu Qinglei greeted them with a lazy smile.
“Astute as ever, Brother Hu. We were indeed detained. But first, let me introduce a new companion—Fellow Daoist Han, who will soon join our ranks.” Xiang Zhili gestured to Han Li.
Among Hu Qinglei’s followers, one cultivator’s eyes widened in shock upon seeing Han Li.
“Join us?” Hu Qinglei’s eyes snapped fully open, scrutinizing Han Li.
“Han Li greets Brother Hu.” Han Li clasped his hands in salute, his demeanor composed and unyielding.
The blue-robed scholar and others gaped, falling silent.
“Hmph! Xiang, Feng, have you lost your senses? A mere late-Nascent Soul cultivator has no place among us!” Hu Qinglei’s face darkened.
“Brother Hu, I have my reasons.” Xiang Zhili remained unruffled, then began transmitting soundlessly.
Hu Qinglei’s expression shifted—first skepticism, then astonishment, and finally eager nods.
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