“That person is an old acquaintance from the past. I haven’t seen him in years, so I was a bit startled when I suddenly spotted him just now.” Dong Xuan’er’s expression was somewhat peculiar, but her voice remained calm as she replied.
“An old acquaintance? That man is an early-stage Nascent Soul cultivator, yet he was able to attend today’s gathering. With such a youthful appearance, he must be the newly renowned Elder of the Falling Cloud Sect. Come to think of it, he shares the same surname as Han, and his name is identical to the person you once mentioned. Could it really be him?” Facing Dong Xuan’er’s stiff response, the Cloud Dew Demon surprisingly didn’t lose his temper. Instead, he asked nonchalantly, as if his relationship with Dong Xuan’er was anything but ordinary.
Upon hearing the demon’s words, Dong Xuan’er’s face paled slightly, but she remained silent. A cold glint flashed in the Cloud Dew Demon’s eyes, and he snorted before dropping the subject, though a shadow of gloom flickered across his brow.
When the demon led Dong Xuan’er to the hall’s entrance, the Core Formation cultivators on duty were visibly nervous. After a brief inquiry, they hastily let them pass. Of course, Dong Xuan’er couldn’t enter the main hall and was instead escorted by a cultivator to a side chamber to rest.
Meanwhile, after Han Li stepped through the hall’s entrance, he soon spotted the doorway to the main chamber and quickened his pace to enter.
The hall’s interior was sparsely decorated. Aside from towering stone pillars, the central open space was lined with exquisitely crafted wooden chairs, spaced several zhang apart, totaling around sixteen or seventeen. Scattered among these chairs sat seven or eight cultivators, each with distinct demeanors. Some cast cold glances at Han Li upon his entry, others ignored him entirely, while a few remained meditative, wholly absorbed in their own affairs.
However, one among them greeted Han Li with a friendly smile and beckoned him over. “Fellow Daoist Han, you’ve emerged from seclusion. If you don’t mind, please take a seat beside me.” This was Long Han, the leader of the Heavenly Dao Alliance and a prominent figure of the Luan Ming Sect.
“Many thanks, Brother Long!” Han Li accepted without hesitation, seating himself in a nearby chair. After briefly surveying the others present, he sat quietly without a word.
Shortly after, the Cloud Dew Demon appeared at the entrance. Upon seeing the assembled cultivators, he chuckled and swaggered to an empty seat, sitting down with an air of nonchalance. Nearby sat a blue-robed elder, who was leisurely sipping wine from a jade cup, utterly indifferent to his surroundings.
As soon as the Cloud Dew Demon settled nearby, a wave of perfumed air wafted over, prompting the elder to shoot him a glare of annoyance. Unfazed, the demon’s gaze flickered before settling on Han Li across the room, studying him with renewed interest. This time, it was Han Li who felt uneasy.
Frowning slightly, Han Li closed his eyes and schooled his expression into neutrality, though inwardly he pondered the relationship between the demon and Dong Xuan’er.
After Dong Xuan’er was abducted by the Hehuan Sect’s young master, she had joined the demonic faction. Though the Cloud Dew Demon was notorious, he shouldn’t have targeted his own sect’s disciples. There must be some other connection between them—otherwise, the demon wouldn’t have brought Dong Xuan’er to this gathering.
As Han Li mulled over this, more cultivators began filing into the hall. These were all mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivators, some acquainted with the early arrivals, others bearing grudges. Consequently, the hall echoed with occasional greetings and veiled barbs.
The Cloud Dew Demon eventually shifted his gaze away from Han Li, but Han Li remained motionless, eyes still shut. He knew few among the mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivators and saw no need to engage in pleasantries.
“Fellow Daoist Soul Splitter! I didn’t expect to see you here. I heard your Nine Souls Secret Art has reached perfection—congratulations!”
“Soul Splitter!” The name stirred Han Li’s memory, prompting him to open his eyes. At the entrance stood a gaunt, elderly man in a black robe, being warmly greeted by another cultivator. The elderly man paused before breaking into a smile and approaching.
“What? Has Fellow Daoist Han met Soul Splitter before?” Long Han, noticing Han Li’s reaction, asked with a smile.
“No, I merely heard Senior Brother Cheng mention him. They say his abilities are formidable,” Han Li replied calmly, omitting any mention of his past encounter with Soul Splitter’s disciples in Yue Country.
“Ah, that makes sense. I recall Elder Cheng once clashed with him and suffered a minor setback, leaving quite an impression. But given your current reputation, Fellow Daoist Han, you needn’t worry. However, among mid-stage Nascent Soul cultivators, there’s one you’d best avoid—even the Three Great Cultivators of the South find him troublesome,” Long Han advised in a mentor-like tone.
“Someone who troubles the Three Great Cultivators? Such a person exists?” Han Li arched an eyebrow in surprise.
“Indeed. This man once fought Zhiyang, one of the Three Great Cultivators. Though he nearly died from severe injuries, he also wounded Zhiyang lightly and escaped. Thus, he’s widely regarded as the strongest beneath the Three Great Cultivators. However, he’s a lone wolf by nature, so whether he’ll appear for something like the Mulan invasion is uncertain. Otherwise, he’d be a valuable ally,” Long Han explained.
“To injure a late-stage Nascent Soul cultivator—this man is truly remarkable. Who is he? He must be quite famous,” Han Li mused, curiosity piqued.
“You’ve surely heard of him—the Heavenly Hatred Old Freak. That name must ring a bell,” Long Han said with a chuckle.
“The Heavenly Hatred Old Freak! So it’s him. Yes, his reputation precedes him,” Han Li muttered, recalling his disguised exploits in the Sacred Tree Forbidden Grounds, where both righteous and demonic spies had feared this very man.
“Still, among Nascent Soul cultivators, shouldn’t you and your esteemed wife, Brother Long, rank just below the Three Great Cultivators?” Han Li teased, but Long Han shook his head.
“Though Feng Bing and I possess some skills, in a one-on-one fight, we’d likely lose to him nine times out of ten. Only by joining forces could we stand a chance,” Long Han said solemnly.
Han Li smiled and was about to respond when he sensed a cold, hostile gaze upon him. Alert but outwardly composed, he turned slightly to meet the eyes of a stranger—a green-robed elder with a long beard.
Noticing Han Li’s attention, the elder’s icy glare faded as he indifferently looked away. Unsettled, Han Li studied the man intently.
“What? You don’t recognize him?” Long Han asked lightly, observing the exchange.
“From your tone, Brother Long, it seems I should,” Han Li replied, puzzled.
“That’s Dongmen Tu, the Grand Elder of the Spirit Beast Sect, who holds considerable power. While I’ve never dealt with him personally, I’ve heard he was close to Gu Shuangpu—like brothers. Since you executed Gu Shuangpu as a Mulan spy, Dongmen Tu, despite the evidence, undoubtedly resents you. Be cautious,” Long Han warned meaningfully.
Han Li rubbed his nose with a wry smile, thanking Long Han profusely.
Within a quarter-hour, nearly all the chairs were occupied. Amusingly, whether by design or coincidence, demonic cultivators congregated on the hall’s right side, while righteous alliance members occupied the left. Only those from the Heavenly Dao and Nine Nations Alliances sat indiscriminately on either side.
Among them, Han Li spotted another acquaintance—the Kuang surnamed cultivator from the Ni Hang Pavilion, seated among the demonic faction. He nodded at Han Li, who returned the gesture.
Long Han then pointed out two more Heavenly Dao Alliance members: a plainly dressed, middle-aged woman and a perpetually gloomy-looking elder. Han Li memorized their appearances.
As the hall filled, the atmosphere grew tense. The assembled cultivators, each a powerhouse in their own right, scrutinized one another coldly, their thoughts inscrutable.
Han Li stood out conspicuously. Given the others’ formidable spiritual senses, none failed to discern his cultivation level upon a glance, instantly recognizing him. His recent meteoric rise to fame ensured that every elder present knew of him. Han Li, however, remained seated with downcast eyes, adopting an unreadable stance.
Just as the hall settled into an almost oppressive silence, three figures emerged from a side door. Instantly, every gaze snapped toward them.
A black-robed giant, a green-haired elder, and a sword-bearing Taoist priest.
Han Li’s expression remained neutral, but his heart raced. These were the Three Great Cultivators—the only late-stage Nascent Soul cultivators in the South for over a millennium. The others watched with varying expressions, most, like Han Li, waiting silently for them to speak.
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