Leaving aside Liu Junzhuo’s thoughts, after expelling Lin Jiujiu from the Taichu Sect, the name of this traitor spread far and wide almost overnight. In no time, the entire Daoist world knew that the Taichu Sect had a traitor named Lin Jiujiu.
By the way, there was also another traitor from the Tai Xuan Sect—Liu Junzhuo.
The latter wasn’t important—no family background, no cultivation. Not worth interviewing. But Lin Jiujiu was different—the most beautiful woman in the Taichu Sect, a rich second-generation heiress, not only wealthy and gorgeous but also talented.
Who wouldn’t love a beautiful, talented, and wealthy heiress?
As for Liu Junzhuo—yeah, yeah, we get it. “Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—don’t bully the young for their poverty.” Thirty years later, when he makes it big, he’ll definitely get a headline.
And so, everyone flocked to Lin Jiujiu.
Even without the Taichu Sect, Lin Jiujiu still lived in luxury. She sat in the blessed cave her father had bought for her, exuding delicate sorrow as she recounted her past to every visitor.
“Don’t say anymore—the Taichu Sect never wronged me.”
Lin Jiujiu wiped her tears. “I still love the Taichu Sect. It’s an irreplaceable part of my life.”
The audience was utterly enchanted. As they left, maidservants handed each of them an invitation at the door.
Lin Jiujiu leaned against the doorway, the wind lifting her long skirt, carrying a faint scent of ink. Holding a limited-edition notebook from the Tai Su Valley, she smiled shyly. “This humble girl is untalented, but I do enjoy dabbling in calligraphy and painting. Next month, I’ll be holding a book signing at Yunmengze. If you have time, please come by.”
The visitors were so entranced by the limited-edition notebook that they left in a daze. When they snapped out of it and looked at the small card in their hands, they gasped.
“Eye Charm’s New Book Signing Event.”
Below, a note:
“Present this card to receive a small gift.”
Recalling the artistic creations in the teacher’s books and Lin Jiujiu’s immense wealth, one visitor wiped their nosebleed and excitedly shared the secret with their peers.
“Look, my new wife—super-rich heiress Lin Jiujiu!”
In no time, both fans and onlookers gave the event immense attention. Regardless of anything else, “Eye Charm’s” popularity was skyrocketing.
Wen An threw himself into the event with fervor, too busy to be seen. Xue Ying and the others were also occupied—staking out the Underworld Duke. Yu Xuzi reiterated that the operation must remain low-key, with no leaks to the broader Daoist community to avoid panic.
The demon realm hadn’t set foot in the Daoist world for eight hundred years—people had almost forgotten that demons were once one of the three great races.
Xue Ying suggested, “Sect Leader, if we can’t reveal our identities, let’s use a different cover.”
Something like, “Chasing Love for Three Thousand Miles—Because Your Wife is Amazing.”
The conversation inevitably circled back to Cen Wuwang. Under the group’s strange gazes, Cen Wuwang seemed to sense something—his ancient sword unsheathed slightly, prompting everyone to change the subject.
“Let’s not do that. It’s too provocative.”
In the end, Du Yizhou saved Xue Ying by saying, “No need for explanations. Just say we’re hunting a fugitive.”
He even added, “The tax-evading kind.”
Without any romantic drama, the group lost interest. The matter was settled, and Xue Ying set off for Yunmengze. Since it was a classified mission, she parted ways with Du Yizhou and the others, going ahead to scout.
As the saying goes, “First time strangers, second time friends.” This trip to Yunmengze took far less time than the last. Compared to the previous Martial Arts Conference, Yunmengze now seemed somewhat desolate.
Due to the twin suns in the sky, massive evaporation had turned the once-expansive lakes into dry land. The old era had passed; a new one was dawning. Yunmengze was undergoing earth-shattering changes.
“Investment… opportunities?”
Xue Ying held a flyer handed to her by an enthusiastic local cultivator. “That’s right! Yunmengze is currently seeking investors. Look—five divine beast feathers, twenty-year lease. You can do whatever you want with them during that time—soar the heavens, crush the demon realm, kick the Spirit Realm—you’d be unrivaled across all four realms. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”
Xue Ying was stunned for a moment, unable to process the scantily clad female cultivator on the cover. She remembered that these five-colored divine feathers were Qiūqiū’s compensation to Yunmengze. Before leaving, the little girl had hugged Cangwu with big, teary eyes, softly saying she’d take them back.
If that tone didn’t sound threatening, imagine this instead:
A fire-spewing Golden Crow hurling a sun straight at your face!
“Insignificant ants, how dare you defy me? Face the wrath of a god!”
So… was Yunmengze’s governor really okay with selling these?
Xue Ying tactfully reminded, “The five-colored divine feathers have an owner.”
“No problem!” The cultivator rambled on. “We’ve already signed a contract with the Tai Su Valley—only selling usage rights, not ownership. For twenty years, the Tai Su Valley won’t interfere with anything.”
Xue Ying couldn’t help but ask, “What if someone uses these feathers to cause trouble at the Tai Su Valley?”
“Then they must have a death wish.”
That massive Golden Crow—did they not see it?
Perhaps fearing Xue Ying might back out, the cultivator switched tactics. “Fellow Daoist, it’s really worth checking out. Many major sects will attend the auction. Plus, before the auction, there’s the famous author Eye Charm’s signing event. Stay and take a look!”
By the end, the burly man was tugging at Xue Ying’s sleeve, acting cute and lamenting how tough his job was.
Since she’d be staying in Yunmengze for a while anyway, Xue Ying softened and followed him.
Holding a five-star hotel room key and an auction invitation, she was momentarily dazed.
Wait—why was she here to book a room?
The cultivator happily pocketed his commission and was about to leave when he noticed Xue Ying’s confusion. A rare pang of conscience struck him, and he leaned in. “Fellow Daoist, if you want… special services, just call me. Ten spirit stones per session—guaranteed satisfaction.”
Dressed in dark robes, his eyes brimming with charm, his tone and delicate features could tempt anyone—man or woman.
Before Xue Ying could react, a nearby male cultivator overheard and cheerfully tossed ten spirit stones. “Give me one!”
The cultivator was quick to oblige. Taking the stones, he stripped off his outer robe—instantly transforming from a delicate youth into a hulking gorilla. “Professional punching bag—won’t fight back or curse. Fellow Daoist, come at me!”
Male Cultivator: “…”
Xue Ying sighed. “Fellow Daoist, this is false advertising.”
Later, Du Yizhou arrived. Seeing the shadow of the flying vessel outside, Xue Ying was overjoyed.
The bill would be reimbursed.
Rumor had it this flying vessel was personally crafted by the sect’s founder. Xue Ying studied its shadow—it looked just like the Taichu Sect’s turtle. And the words “Low-Key” painted on the hull confirmed the sect’s consistent style.
Du Yizhou was exceptionally generous. Without hesitation, he booked out Xue Ying’s entire hotel, delighting the owner, who gifted them spirit fruits after dinner. Chewing on one, Xue Ying handed Du Yizhou the flyer and sat cross-legged, chatting idly.
“Where’s Senior Brother Wen?”
“Helping Junior Sister Lin at the venue.”
“Didn’t see Senior Sister Cen.”
“She’s busy with the elders.”
“Liu Junzhuo?”
“Ask again in thirty years.”
After finishing her spirit fruit, Xue Ying reached for Du Yizhou’s bowl. He moved his documents aside, frowning. “You’ve already achieved fasting—why still snack?”
Xue Ying hugged the bowl to her chest. Old habits from childhood starvation were hard to break. “Senior Brother, what’s Yunmengze’s governor planning?”
Places like Yunmengze, lacking major sects, usually had city lords. Yunmengze’s governor managed everything—finances, security, birth, death, even burial regulations to avoid urban blight.
Without the cultural heritage of major sects, no cultivation manuals, and no noble bloodlines like the dragon descendants, Yunmengze had taken a different path—urbanization and internationalization.
Simply put, Yunmengze was a first-tier city with everything one could want.
Ignoring the cover model, Du Yizhou studied the auction details and explained, “Yunmengze lacks major sects or clans. Though the governor is well-known, his cultivation is mediocre. Holding such treasures in the Daoist world is like a child carrying gold through a busy market—defenseless.”
“Praise without possession invites blame.” The governor likely understood this and feared the divine feathers would attract assassins. So he opted for a public auction, trading the treasure for resources.
“Fortune is fickle. Our sect also has a guardian treasure. The Taichu Sect was once a quiet place until cultivators flocked here, forming a major sect. ‘Great land nurtures great talent’—first the land, then the people.”
Xue Ying grasped the idea—the five-colored divine feathers were like oil reserves, enriching wherever they were placed. Wealth would naturally attract talent. But since major powers coveted them and Yunmengze couldn’t protect them, selling was the logical choice—money could bring prosperity without the trouble.
Closing the invitation, Du Yizhou seemed uncertain. He planned to consult the elders about bidding for the feathers.
Noticing his hesitation, Xue Ying said, “Senior Brother wants them? With so many at the auction, it might be—”
“Money isn’t an issue.” Du Yizhou stood. Yunmengze had always remained independent of major sects. An alliance could elevate the Taichu Sect’s status and resources despite the financial cost.
He contacted Shuangli and Wen An to discuss the matter. Xue Ying listened briefly before heading out to practice sword forms.
Business deals worth millions? Too complicated, not interested.
The auction was postponed for now. What Xue Ying knew was that the elders had approved bidding for the feathers—to strengthen ties with Yunmengze, prevent misuse, and draw the demon realm’s focus onto the Taichu Sect.
“Come at us—spare the innocent.”
Moved to tears, Xue Ying thought, *The Taichu Sect truly is the Daoist world’s leading sect—always sacrificing for others.*
The signing and auction were scheduled separately—first the signing, then the auction—to maximize excitement. After all, admiring beauty and browsing treasures was harmless fun.
The next day, Xue Ying helped at the signing event. Perhaps buoyed by success, Wen An was in high spirits, even feeding Xue Ying snacks. Munching on candied hawthorns, she followed him and asked, “Senior Brother, what are you doing?”
Wen An directed the setup of a towering white jade wall, cool to the touch. After adjustments, he began inscribing it. “It’s an event for the signing. Visitors can leave messages. Afterward, we’ll pick a few lucky fans to receive my new book.”
His voice dripped with tenderness. Xue Ying, recalling Wen An’s draft and his editor’s despairing words—*”I’ve learned heaven truly seals all paths”*—winced.
Wen An was no literary genius.
Tactfully, Xue Ying said, “Senior Brother, is this really a good idea?”
She didn’t mention ruining Eye Charm’s reputation but framed it as concern for Wen An. “Leaking it before release risks piracy. Wouldn’t Senior Brother end up penniless again?”
Wen An considered this but couldn’t think of an alternative. He pulled Xue Ying into writing on the wall.
“Switch hands after writing. Don’t just praise. Here’s a neutral review—copy it.”
The review read:
“Undeniably, Eye Charm has reached unparalleled heights in composition and color. Yet, she has unavoidable flaws… In this regard, I recommend ‘Green Jade Case’—a true master of both art and prose.”
Praising Eye Charm while elevating Green Jade Case—this backhanded approach made Xue Ying frown. “Senior Brother, this is your signing. Mentioning a rival isn’t appropriate.”
Wen An was pleased. “What do you know? This is a ‘hate-reader’ tactic. After Junior Sister Lin was expelled, she’s already framed as the underdog. If today’s event is sabotaged without a culprit, what will fans do?”
His tone turned grave. “They’ll think, ‘Teacher is so pitiful! We must support her!’ But throwing money is crude. Instead, they’ll buy more books to help her through hardship—ensuring better future works.”
Xue Ying was baffled. “With all due respect, Senior Brother, Lin’s quarterly wardrobe budget exceeds our Tai Xuan Sect’s annual expenses.”
Since childhood, Xue Ying had never seen Lin wear the same outfit twice.
Donating to Lin Jiujiu? Xue Ying saw only fools and scammers—with Wen An crowned king of shamelessness.
Wen An scribbled on the wall. “Only the wealthy treat money like dirt.”
He adored Lin Jiujiu—gorgeous, rich, and indifferent to signing earnings, handing them all to Wen An. Unlike Xue Ying, who charged by the hour for help.
Since the money ultimately returned to the Tai Xuan Sect, Xue Ying dropped the matter and meticulously penned the “neutral” review.
Finished, inspiration struck. Switching hands, she added:
“Are you a master of sarcasm?”
The Demoness never expected the Underworld Duke to come to Yunmengze. With Shen Jin’s fate unknown, she sought the divine feathers to either break the seal and summon the demon hordes or trade them to the Tai Xuan Sect for Shen Jin’s return.
Key point: Neither plan involved the Underworld Duke!
Was he here to steal her credit?
“Deserting your post—have you considered the poor demon covering your shift?”
The Underworld Duke didn’t care. He’d heard Eye Charm—no, Eye Charm—had been silent since her debut. This signing might be her first and last.
Miss it and wait for the next life, but who will still love Yanermei in the next life?
“Enough talk. I came for the grand plan of the demon realm.” Mingong tightened his grip on his newly acquired complete collection of Yanermei art books. Having realized he had mistakenly idolized the wrong person and treated counterfeit works as treasures, Mingong felt a pang of guilt. He wanted to repeat his old trick—buying up all the Yanermei art books in a realm to prove his devotion.
But the Daoist realm was simply too vast, and his wallet too small.
Failed to show off.
“I’ve inquired about this person. She’s Lin Jiujiu, a disciple of the Taichu Sect, rumored to be the most beautiful woman with a wealthy background.”
The Marquess crossed her arms and sneered, “What did I say? The rich play with art. Who would dare expose the dangers of the Daoist realm and still be invited back? Can you even afford to keep her?”
Insulting him was one thing, but insulting his idol Yanermei was unforgivable!
“Don’t you dare speak of Teacher like that.”
The Marquess was sprayed with spit by Mingong, utterly shocked. “As a high-ranking official of the Demon Lord, you’re letting personal matters cloud your judgment. You disgrace the title of one of the Three Dukes. I’m ashamed for you.”
Mingong realized he’d lost control. Clearing his throat, he offered a pre-prepared excuse. “Not at all. This Lin Jiujiu has no cultivation to speak of, relying entirely on her father’s influence. Now that she’s been expelled from the Taichu Sect, she must harbor resentment. If we can guide her to abandon the light and join us, she could be of great use. Then, both the Taichu and Taixuan Sects would be at our mercy.”
The Marquess, who despised scheming, shot back, “So what if you know? The Taichu Sect is the foremost in the Daoist realm. Forget their formidable disciples—their treasures alone are top-tier. And the Taixuan Sect? They produce Sword Immortals generation after generation. What do you plan to fight them with? Love?”
This struck a chord with Mingong. “Human hearts are fickle. The Taixuan Sect was originally a branch of the Taichu Sect, severed a thousand years ago and oppressed ever since. They must resent it. If we can exploit that, drive a wedge between them, we can subdue them without a fight. That would be a boon for our demonkind.”
The Marquess looked disdainful. “Keep spinning your tales. The last one who listened to you ended up in the Taixuan Sect’s Demon-Sealing Tower.”
Mingong grew angry. “If you’re so capable, why don’t you storm the Taixuan Sect and rescue the Demon Lord yourself?”
The Marquess had no such ability, so she could only listen as Mingong spun more fantasies. “Another disciple left with her—a Liu, Liu Jun or something…”
Mingong couldn’t recall the name and dismissed it, using a placeholder instead. “This Liu fellow was born with a Sword Bone, also a disciple of a Sword Immortal. Unlike Lin Jiujiu, he lacks her wealth and would be easier to control. Marquess, go find him and persuade him to join the demon realm. If you succeed, it’ll be a great merit.”
The Marquess seemed tempted but worried about her identity. “The three realms have always despised the demon realm. I doubt this will be easy.”
This was why Mingong looked down on the Marquess—so straightforward, despite being a seductive demoness, she acted like a righteous gentleman, rigid and inflexible.
“Are you stupid? If he refuses, can’t you just trick him?”
“Take Yuhengzi as an example.” Mingong launched into his ultimate reverse scheme. “Now that the Taixuan Sect knows Yuhengzi is fake, the real one is with us. Whether this Liu fellow loves or hates Yuhengzi, joining the demon realm would give him a chance to get close. To prove his loyalty, he’d have to take action—and that’s exactly what we want.”
“He thinks he’s deceiving us, but we’re the ones using him.” Mingong was on a roll. “All you need to do is hint that the real Yuhengzi is in our hands and suggest he could rescue Yuhengzi to return to the Taixuan Sect in glory.”
Confronted with Mingong’s incessant talk, the Marquess paused before finally confessing, “There’s something I can no longer conceal.”
“Yuhengzi has already left the demon realm.”
Mingong fell silent, then pointed at the Marquess and cursed, “I’ve never met anyone as stupid as you.”
The Marquess showed no remorse. “Who do you think you are to stop Yuhengzi? Getting the Demon Lord’s body back was already a miracle…”
After a long argument, the two parted ways angrily, each going their own path. The Marquess focused on the Five-Colored Divine Feather, while Mingong sought out Lin Jiujiu.
Mingong’s imagination ran wild. If he could lure Lin Jiujiu to the demon realm, he’d gain immense face not just before the Demon Lord but the entire demonkind.
But…
Mingong remained cautious. He didn’t immediately write to Lin Jiujiu, begging her to join their side. Instead, he decided to scout the book signing event first.
Under the cover of night, Mingong sneaked into the venue to plan his route, intending to intercept Lin Jiujiu after the event. Before finding the back door, he noticed a jade wall at the entrance. Curious, he stopped to read the few messages already inscribed—Xue Ying and others expressing their care for Lin Jiujiu.
Mingong lingered, savoring the praise. But one “neutral” comment irked him: “To be fair, Yanermei can’t compare to Qingyu’an.”
What was Qingyu’an? How dare it be mentioned alongside Yanermei?
Trash trying to ride on fame.
Mingong pulled out a brush and scrawled:
“Nonsense! Yanermei is the best in the world. What business is it of yours if she holds a signing? Annoying.”
Feeling slightly better, he put the brush away and wandered inside, deciding to grab a front-row seat later.
The next day, when Wen An and Xue Ying arrived, they discussed how to ambush Mingong. Wen An glanced up and spotted the message on the wall.
“I think it’s safer to intercept him after the event. What if—”
Before Xue Ying could finish, Wen An walked to the wall, traced Mingong’s words, and turned to her. “See? It’s working.”
Xue Ying: That’s not the point.
She watched as Wen An replied below:
“What’s wrong with telling the truth? If it’s bad, why can’t I say so? Seems Yanermei isn’t all that.”
Then, switching hands, he added:
“Stop arguing. Teacher rarely holds signings—let’s all enjoy it.”
He handed the brush to Xue Ying. “Your turn.”
Though unsure who the original writer was, Xue Ying took the brush and went harder:
“So concerned about my teacher—is yours dead?”
“Now I see it. You’re using Qingyu’an to leech off Yanermei’s fame. When will Yanermei stand on her own? Our teacher doesn’t deserve to be compared to your ‘senior.’ Let Qingyu’an ‘shine alone,’ okay?”
“Shine alone? Back when she released a book, she’d shout across realms. Want me to dig up your black history? Trash like you dares to boast about ‘perfect master-disciple love’? Hilarious.”
Wen An nearly got fired up reading this and quickly stopped her. “Enough, enough.”
If this continued, he’d be tempted to duel Qingyu’an himself.
That night, Mingong returned to scout the venue. Before he could check the official art books, he stopped at the wall. One look, and he was livid.
His beloved *Pure Disciple, Charming Master*—no one was allowed to slander it!
“What is Qingyu’an, barking like a mad dog at a senior? Coming to someone else’s signing to seek attention? Lifelong anti-Qingyu’an.”
The next day, Wen An saw the new message and discussed it with Xue Ying. “See? Classic fanwar tactics—this person’s already a devoted buyer.”
Xue Ying scoffed. “The loudest ones probably haven’t even bought a single book.”
Ignoring her, Wen An pondered whether to escalate and asked Xue Ying for ideas.
Her answer was sharp: “Argue with yourself. Praise in one line, attack in the next.”
“Like: ‘Qingyu’an fans crashing Yanermei’s signing—are you sick?’ Then reply: ‘Qing my ass! Always gatekeeping fandom. Is this how Yanermei fans behave?’”
“Stop pretending to be innocent, generalizing like that. Trash books breed trash fans.”
“Who asked you? Holding a signing doesn’t make you special.”
As Xue Ying spoke, Wen An wrote. Suddenly, she stopped.
Wen An turned. “What’s wrong?”
Xue Ying’s voice dripped with killing intent. “I pissed myself off. What the hell is this?”
She barely held back the urge to curse further and instead dragged Wen An outside for a fight.
This time, Wen An was outright beaten down.
Nursing his bruised nose, he returned to the venue and sighed at the jade wall. “Take it down.”
That night, Mingong returned. His ghostly figure appeared before the still-standing wall. Reading the new additions, he nearly exploded.
“These Daoist realm trolls!”
“Always meddling, with nothing better to do.” Mingong pressed his hands to the wall, and flames instantly consumed it, leaving only ashes.
Still fuming, Mingong—a former pirated reader—felt guilty toward Yanermei. He wanted to prove his love.
After circling the venue to confirm no Qingyu’an works were present, he headed to Yunmengze’s largest bookstore. Scaling the walls, he gathered all Qingyu’an’s books and burned them.
Before leaving, he scrawled in blood on the door: “Qingyu’an must fall.”
A perfect display of demonkind’s cruelty and bloodlust.
Unfortunately, the bookstore belonged to the Envoy.
Furious at the arson, the Envoy—currently promoting Yunmengze as peaceful and investor-friendly—issued a city-wide manhunt for the vicious criminal.
Three days later, Xue Ying and Wen An, returning from work, were summoned by Du Yizhou for a meeting.
Du Yizhou held up a newspaper, expressionless. “Latest news—Mingong’s been arrested.”
The headline read:
*Elderly Man Burns Bookstore, Leaves Blood Graffiti—Confesses to Being a Troll.*
Xue Ying inhaled. “Respect. First stop after leaving the demon realm? Jail. So hardcore.”
According to the suspect, during Yanermei’s signing, trolls kept slandering her. Enraged, Mingong retaliated against Qingyu’an. Unable to identify Qingyu’an, he burned her works instead.
Qingyu’an (Du Yizhou) and Yanermei (Wen An) shared a complicated silence.
They’d expected the demon realm’s strategist to be cunning, lurking in the shadows. Instead, a fanwar triggered his downfall.
Were they too sinister, or was the demon realm too naive?
Wen An whispered to Xue Ying, “Nice work, junior sister.”
With her skills, why bother with signings? Just let Xue Ying argue with Mingong.
Xue Ying retorted, “It was your idea to ‘torture fans.’ I just fought back. Who knew it was Mingong?”
The elders reviewed the situation. They’d used Lin Jiujiu as bait for Mingong.
Did he take it? Yes.
Was he caught? Yes.
Why? Not by their ambush—but because the demon dug his own grave, arrested for disturbing public order.
It felt… underwhelming.
“Everyone,” Du Yizhou raised his voice, “according to Yunmengze’s laws, intentional destruction of property carries a three-year sentence or a fine.”
“We have two options: One, do nothing. Three years is enough for Senior Cangwu to stabilize the realms. By then, Mingong won’t be able to cause trouble.”
The elders nodded. Someone asked, “And the second?”
Qingyu’an (Du Yizhou) scowled. “Pay the fine.”
His troll burned his books, cursed him, and now he had to pay for the guy’s release? What kind of world was this?
Du Yizhou shifted blame. “Yanermei was Wen An’s idea. The Taixuan Sect should pay.”
Wen An objected. “Yanermei is your Taichu Sect’s. You pay.”
Du Yizhou snapped. Lin Jiujiu had sacrificed her reputation for free—now they had to pay Wen An’s fine too? “Don’t push it, Wen An.”
Wen An fired back, “Me? You’re the one crossing lines, Du Yizhou.”
He painted to support his family. Du Yizhou just copied him for profit.
“My Taichu Sect funded this. Shut up.”
“My Taixuan Sect provided the talent. Watch your tone.”
“Try saving the realms without Sword Immortals.”
“Stop taking our swords, then talk.”
As the two drew their swords to duel, Xue Ying chimed in, “Senior brothers, take me! I want to fight too.”
Xue Ying was no longer the sweet junior sister—she hit as hard as Cen Wuwang. Worse, she never stayed down after a beating. Facing a common enemy, the two quickly reconciled, sitting down for a heartfelt talk.
The elders marveled. One sighed, “Taichu and Taixuan truly are one family.”
Wen An smiled and nodded, secretly rolling his eyes. If not for fear of Xue Ying’s fists, who’d call Du Yizhou family?
Ultimately, the elders decided to negotiate with Yunmengze to extradite Mingong.
Individual efforts were troublesome, but inter-sect diplomacy smoothed things over. Winning the Five-Colored Divine Feather auction and aiding Yunmengze’s reconstruction made requesting a minor criminal a small favor.
On the other side, the failed female thief, the Marquise, returned dejected, intending to speak with Ming Gong again. To her surprise, she didn’t find him in the dilapidated hut. In the end, she stood outside the iron bars, listening to Ming Gong’s heart-wrenching accusations, and couldn’t help but laugh in frustration.
“Impressive. You came here and ended up in prison all by yourself. And over personal grudges, no less. Ming Gong, you truly amuse me.”
Ming Gong stubbornly refused to admit fault. “Someone ambushed me in secret. Otherwise, with my skills, how could I have been caught?”
The Marquise leaned against the wall, cold and aloof, her expression clearly saying, *Keep lying. Go ahead. As if I’d bail you out.*
Realizing she wouldn’t help him this time, Ming Gong gradually fell silent and turned serious. “So, have you figured out the situation with the Five-Colored Divine Feather?”
During her time in Yunmengze, the Marquise had indeed planned to steal the feather. However, the place where it was kept was heavily guarded, leaving her no opportunity. The best way to obtain it now was to wait until it was handed over to the buyer.
Ming Gong had an idea. “Find a way to infiltrate the auction, identify the final buyer, and you know what to do next.”
The Marquise smoothed her hair, a bloodthirsty glint flashing in her eyes. Of course, she knew what to do—rob and kill. It was her usual routine.
“And what about you?”
Ming Gong sat on the stone bed, brimming with confidence. “I have my own methods.”
He was determined to bring his teacher to the demon realm and show her its true beauty.
Without Ming Gong’s unexpected antics, Lin Jiujiu’s book signing felt dull. Everyone followed the routine, lining up for her autograph. Xue Ying stood by, helping to fend off overly enthusiastic fans.
Of course, there were also those like Lin Shen, who flaunted his wealth by chartering an entire flying boat to promote his daughter’s event. Xue Ying and Wen An privately mocked him—*He says no, but his actions speak otherwise.*
After all, gaining fame was something any parent would be proud of.
Following the signing event was the auction. The Taichu Sect’s stance was clear: they would acquire the Five-Colored Divine Feather through fair and open competition, demonstrating their sincerity to the world.
*The highest bidder wins. And Taichu Sect has the deepest pockets.*
When Xue Ying mentioned attending the auction, Lin Jiujiu’s expression froze. She recalled Xue Ying’s past encounter with Ao Fugui—how Xue Ying had been mistaken for a demon due to her demonic blood, captured and sold as a slave at an auction. A Taoist had bought her, intending to use her as a cultivation vessel, but Xue Ying had resisted to the death.
Later, somehow, she ended up in Ao Fugui’s hands, leading to the great upheaval in the East Sea.
In this life, Xue Ying was a master swordsman, and Liu Junzhuo had just been expelled from the Taixuan Sect. That script was likely gone. Still, Lin Jiujiu decided to warn Xue Ying to be wary of Ao Fugui.
Ao Fugui did indeed appear in Yunmengze. As the Dragon Prince, he made a grand entrance, declaring his intent to claim the Five-Colored Divine Feather and return to the demon realm—proving the words of a local cultivator.
*Then his brain must be full of holes.*
A dragon flaunting a phoenix’s feather as a token of authority—was he mocking the phoenix clan, or was the dragon clan truly that incompetent?
*If you’re so great, why rely on the feather? Just conquer the demon realm yourself.*
In summary, the dragons were weak but addicted to posturing.
Xue Ying was quite interested in the auction. Weren’t such events always depicted in novels? People cloaked in black, identities hidden behind code names, bidding in secrecy. The auctions themselves were shrouded in mystery, offering rare spiritual plants, legendary beasts, elixirs, artifacts—even slaves.
But reality was different.
The venue was adorned with exquisite carvings, vibrant flowers lining the corridors, graceful dancers performing in the courtyard, and distinguished elders chatting casually about billion-dollar deals.
Xue Ying whispered to Du Yizhou, “Senior Brother, why aren’t they wearing masks?”
Wouldn’t it be awkward if tempers flared and they ended up fighting?
Du Yizhou shot her a glare. “Stop reading those ridiculous novels. This is an investment event, not some shady deal. Even we swordsmen fight with honor. Why can’t business be conducted openly?”
Xue Ying really wanted to experience the thrill of an assassination. What if the bidding got too heated and led to a brawl? Losing meant a trip to the infirmary, but winning—winning was glorious.
*Pouring tea for the rich and powerful who can fight—that’s the dream.*
She wanted to be one of them.
After scolding Xue Ying, Du Yizhou stepped forward, followed by Wen An. The two seamlessly integrated into the elite circle. Just days ago, they had been at each other’s throats, yet now they stood united for the greater good of the cultivation world.
*The hypocrisy of adulthood.*
Xue Ying wisely stepped aside to wait for the auction to begin. Just as she settled, a fragrant breeze wafted past, and she looked up to see Ao Fugui.
After his defeat against the phoenix clan, Ao Fugui had been hiding in Yunmengze, anonymously reporting them. Now, appearing at the auction, Xue Ying quickly deduced he was playing the villain today.
She glanced at Du Yizhou, seeing the weight of a millennia-old sect behind him, then back at Ao Fugui, whose entire being screamed *wealth*.
Xue Ying confirmed the script: two tycoons locked in a bidding war, with Yunmengze reaping the benefits.
Ao Fugui, now a “unicorn,” immediately recognized Xue Ying. He held no fondness for her, mainly because the woman he liked had once fought her.
Though later investigations revealed she was a demon’s daughter, and he was advised to give up, Ao Fugui still felt bitter.
*Such a beautiful, buxom sister—why couldn’t she be from the righteous path? Is the moon really rounder in the demon realm?*
Setting aside the Marquise’s affairs, today’s attendees were all influential figures, but the only real competition was the Taichu Sect.
Remembering his father’s earnest advice and the prime minister’s solemn words, Ao Fugui felt a surge of responsibility. He wasn’t here to throw money around—he was here to showcase the dragon clan’s might.
*Today, Taichu Sect’s blood will herald a new era of glory for the dragons.*
Heart pounding, Ao Fugui strode straight to Xue Ying, targeting the “weakest link.”
Then he uttered the infamous line: “Woman, you’ve piqued my interest.”
Xue Ying tilted her head, her gaze landing on the overly ornate sword at Ao Fugui’s waist. *Ah, he wants to fight.*
She was thrilled. After days of inactivity, someone was finally picking a fight. Deciding to play along, she clenched her fists, gripping Bailu tightly, her voice trembling with feigned restraint. “What do you want?”
She resembled a delicate lily trembling in the wind, fragile yet defiant.
Ao Fugui despised such women—*so bland, so fake. I’ll wipe that act off your face.* He sneered. “Woman, do you realize you’re playing with fire?”
Behind them, Du Yizhou stepped forward as if to intervene. Xue Ying panicked, her eyes flashing with murderous intent. “Senior Brother—”
*Get lost. This sandbag is mine.*
Du Yizhou: “…”
Unaware of their silent exchange, Ao Fugui turned coldly to Du Yizhou. “Don’t move. Or I can’t guarantee what’ll happen.”
Both were young prodigies, and the crowd’s attention shifted to them. Wen An approached Xue Ying, asking with concern, “What’s wrong?”
Ao Fugui laughed mockingly. “Two elite disciples fussing over one woman. The Sword Immortal’s disciple—you really have a way with men.”
His words, deliberately loud, drew amused glances toward Xue Ying. Clenching her fists as if humiliated, she mustered her courage. “You’ve gone too far. Apologize, or—”
She drew Bailu, its sword intent shaking the heavens. “We settle this with a duel.”
The moment she gripped her sword, her aura transformed. Onlookers gasped—*This is the Sword Immortal’s disciple? Such power!*
Ao Fugui, furious, pointed at her. “You set me up!”
Behind her veil, Xue Ying showed no shame, only retorted, “Everyone heard you insult me first. What’s wrong with beating you up?”
The crowd: “…”
*Even scam artists aren’t this blatant.*
Later, Ao Fugui attended the auction in a wheelchair. Xue Ying, refreshed after her workout, followed Du Yizhou to spectate. The only downside? No one dared approach Du Yizhou anymore.
The long-awaited auction finally began. The host, a stunning woman with a melodious voice, delivered a tedious opening speech. The only one enthralled was the local envoy.
The first few spiritual plants were mere warm-ups, met with lukewarm enthusiasm. But when the Five-Colored Divine Feather appeared, the atmosphere ignited.
“No need for introductions—this treasure, the Five-Colored Divine Feather, can suppress a sect’s fortune, command respect, and is a relic of the Golden Crow. Starting bid: ten million.”
Though the base price was low, the fervor quickly drove it past a hundred million, yet most bidders held firm.
*This was the Five-Colored Divine Feather.*
Du Yizhou remained calm, waiting for smaller sects to bow out before gradually raising his bid. After another round, mid-tier sects conceded. It was clear—this was now a battle between Taichu Sect and the dragons.
*When gods fight, mortals suffer. Best stay out of it.*
As the bids climbed higher, the Yunmengze envoy nearly toppled from his chair in delight. Ao Fugui’s face darkened—he knew the dragon clan couldn’t win this.
Enough was enough. Leaning on his cane, he stood and accused Du Yizhou, “You’re going too far.”
Du Yizhou didn’t even blink. “I’m rich.”
Ao Fugui sneered, “Taichu Sect has stood for millennia. What treasures haven’t you seen? Yet you’re scrambling for a mere feather. Pathetic.”
Du Yizhou’s reply was simple. “I’m rich.”
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