The largest Zhenyi Sect Dao Palace in Ze Province—Pure Yang Palace.

The Palace Master, Daoist Qingxiao, was benevolent and gentle, calmly explaining the cultivation methods of literature to the many disciples below.

His voice was rhythmic and occasionally sang out formulas with a deep resonance, possessing a certain special rhythm. Everyone present listened, captivated.

Yet very few people knew that every time he lectured, he employed special martial arts secrets.

As the overall leader responsible for all affairs of Zhenyi Sect in Ze Province.

After three of the Five Sons of Ming Mountain were lost, Daoist Qingxiao set his sights on one of their positions.

After all, he was a master capable of overseeing the Great Dao Teaching’s base in Ze Province.

Even among Zhenyi Sect’s grandmasters, he was considered one of the more powerful, with hope for further advancement.

After concluding his lecture, he disbanded the gathering and retreated backstage to rest.

Just as he was about to rest, a close disciple serving him came forward.

"Palace Master, the envoy team sent to Qingchuan has mysteriously disappeared, and we’ve received orders to send people abroad to cooperate. What do you think...?"

"The envoy team has disappeared. Their intention was to investigate the Great Dao Teaching’s Daoist, which is a difficult task..." Daoist Qingxiao said calmly.

He had heard of the envoy team’s strength. For such an impressive force to suddenly disappear, the only explanation was that an equally powerful force had intervened.

With his modest abilities, mingling in the excitement was not courting death?

"Daoist Qingxiao was once so bold and invigorated, why has he become so timid and reclusive now?"

Suddenly, at the entrance and exit of the backstage, the only light was blocked by someone. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

This person wore a black robe, their face obscured, but their voice made Qingxiao’s heart tighten.

"Is it you...?" He seemed to recognize the other.

"It’s me. I lent you a helping hand back then. Now, you should repay that favor." The newcomer chuckled.

".... You came because of the envoy team and Zhang Ying?" Qingxiao frowned deeply.

"Indeed. But we all have self-awareness. Faced with the Rebel Sect behind them, no one can withstand them. But what if it’s not you against the Rebel Sect?" The newcomer continued to smile.

"What do you mean?"

"The literal meaning," the newcomer continued, "It has now been confirmed that Daoist Zhang Ying is likely genuinely holding the final secret of the Eastern Sect from back then, which is the special secret of the deity-worshiping master.

Such secrets must not be leaked! Otherwise...."

"Can you find his men?" Qingxiao’s heart stirred.

"We can’t find Zhang Ying directly, but we can find those close to him. I’ve received news that his men have begun packing up, preparing to head to other provinces. We can intercept these people halfway.

This way, whether as bait or handed over as an explanation to the higher-ups, there are ways. Do you agree?" The newcomer spoke easily.

Indeed.... can’t deal with the power behind the envoy team, but can’t handle you ordinary people?

"How do we conceal our identities?" Qingxiao still had concerns.

"You don’t say, I don’t say, who knows it’s us?" The newcomer laughed.

Qingxiao’s close disciple was stunned by these words, then his expression changed slightly, stepping back a step.

Pfft!

But it was too late.

Daoist Qingxiao swiftly struck, precisely landing on the disciple’s forehead.

Immediately, there was a gruesome rupture.

The disciple slumped to the ground, lifeless.

He had not worshiped the deities and had intended to advance further, but unfortunately...

"Still the same.... decisive enough." The newcomer clapped and laughed.

"When do we act?" Qingxiao asked deeply, retracting his hand.

"Now."

*

*

*

The mountainside winding official road resembled a giant serpent coiling around the mountain body.

The gray-white stretched far away, sometimes thick, sometimes thin, exceptionally striking from afar.

At noon, the winter sun was chilly, scattered with snowflakes, reflecting an even paler scene.

At the mountaintop, beneath a patch of snow pines, Zhang Rongfang gazed afar at the convoy on the official road, silent.

He was waiting.

Waiting for someone to attempt capturing him.

Since setting out yesterday, he had seemingly separated from the team but silently protected them from the outside.

Using the convoy as bait, to lure out all the forces targeting him from the shadows.

With his special abilities now, engaging in battles to improve through them was the best strategy.

As for those around him, however many came, they were merely burdens to him.

With him alone, he could engage and retreat freely.

But he waited throughout until noon the next day, and still, no one appeared.

But he wasn’t in a rush.... not in the least....

The distance from here to Wushan Prefecture, at the convoy’s pace, would take at least a month and a half.

So, he still had plenty of time....

Swish.

Suddenly, Zhang Rongfang’s expression subtly shifted, looking off to another distant direction.

"Here they come...." He gazed there from afar. Under his dark vision ability, he vaguely assessed the speed of the body techniques and the intensity of qi and blood from that direction.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward and darted towards that direction.

Moving through large patches of snowy forest, he quickly saw a group of masked figures in white clothes speeding up the snowy terrain towards the convoy.

Behind these masked figures, a tall man in silver armor followed closely, his neck adorned with a black scarf, billowing in the wind.

The masked man stood upright, carrying a longsword. As Zhang Rongfang burst out of the woods, he looked this way.

"Who!?" He gripped the hilt of his blade, shouting low in anger.

The reply was a rapidly approaching gray blur.

Zhang Rongfang charged, snow dust erupting under his feet like an arrow, quickly creating a zig-zagging line, darting between the dozen masked figures.

Blood flowers scattered from his hands.

One masked figure after another angrily swung their blades, executing various techniques, all futile.

Their moves were only half-done before loopholes were exploited, and their throats pierced.

Everyone maintained their original stances, frozen in place.

Then, as Zhang Rongfang landed, all collapsed, silent.

"Only one left."

Zhang Rongfang gently landed a few meters in front of the leader, his fingers dripping blood from his sleeves, stepping toward the opponent one step at a time.

The latter’s eyes were filled with terror as he kept retreating.

*

*

*

On the other side.

The caravan of Agarwood Mansion moved steadily along the mountain path, heading into the distance.

Zhang Yunqi led at the front on horseback, with over a dozen high-grade masters from the Rebel Sect guarding the rear of the team.

Zhang Zhenhai and Sun Chaoyue were together in the middle of the team, protecting the cargo being transported.

From a distance, this team seemed to be escorted by just a few super-grade masters, which would be quite secure in peaceful times.

But now, with chaos rising, numerous experts are emerging from seclusion.

Moreover, with Agarwood Mansion being targeted by many major forces, this level of protection was far from enough.

Whoosh...

Suddenly, a cold wind blew, scattering the petals of a plum tree growing obliquely above the official road.

White petals swirled and fell, lightly brushing past the carriage, over the windows, skirting the Great Dao Teaching imprint engraved on the wheel, about to land.

Whoa!

Suddenly, the carriage halted.

Everyone in the team stopped, pausing in place.

Zhang Yunqi raised his hand, his eyes scanning ahead cautiously.

In front, the official road had a mountain wall on the left and a cliff on the right, offering no place to hide.

Yet for some reason, unease stirred within him.

"What’s wrong, Father?" Zhang Zhenhai gently asked, lifting the curtain.

"Something’s off," Zhang Yunqi replied solemnly. "Stay alert!"

"Alert for what? What good does caution do?" A clear voice interrupted him, floating down from the mountain wall beside them.

Immediately, everyone looked up, staring into the air.

On the plum tree above the official road stood a figure in a gray cloak, wearing a bamboo hat.

The figure held a longsword with a black scabbard, their face masked with two holes cut for the eyes.

"Is this the subordinate force under Zhang Ying? Too weak, really."

"He’s just a super-grade himself, not really strong. It’s about the force behind him. Anyway, let’s finish quickly, take the people and leave. This task will then be complete."

On another mountain wall, a figure in white similarly covered their face with a white mask, clearly a simple cover bought from a small stall, like a child’s toy.

This person was Daoist Qingxiao.

There was an obligation to fulfill above, and a personal debt to repay.

Striking at Zhang Ying’s direct subordinates was naturally the most fitting choice.

Thus he came.

As the True One Grandmaster overseeing a province, he was being exceedingly cautious.

The annihilation of the special envoy team made him realize that he had to present something useful to deal with pressure from above.

Directly engaging Zhang Ying was out of the question, so a different approach was necessary.

The two hung on the mountain wall, watching over the caravan, exuding an aura of complete control.

"Move. Delaying brings change!"

Qingxiao urged, turning to the other person.

The masked figure nodded.

Swish!

The two simultaneously swooped down from above, diving toward the central carriage of the caravan.

They had already investigated thoroughly before arriving.

Among Zhang Ying’s core subordinates here, there were only three: Zhang Yunqi, Zhang Zhenhai, and Sun Chaoyue.

Zhang Zhenhai and Sun Chaoyue were young and beautiful women, rumored to be Zhang Ying’s lovers, in a close relationship.

Thus, they were the primary targets for capture.

The two rapidly closed in on the central carriage, while the caravan’s guards and Rebel Sect members drew blades and arrows to intercept them.

But to no avail.

Their body techniques seemed to foretell everything, weaving effortlessly through all attacks.

The gray cloaked figure’s long blade suddenly unsheathed, slicing through all approaching blades, reaching into the carriage for the fair-faced Sun Chaoyue.

"I’ll savor the taste of Zhang Ying’s woman!" The bamboo-hatted figure laughed, reaching into the carriage, grabbing Sun Chaoyue’s shoulder.

Pa.

His fingers gripped firmly, pulling back.

Huh!??

Unmovable??

What’s going on!!?

The laughter vanished abruptly from the masked man’s eyes.

His smile stopped abruptly too.

"What’s happening!!?" He suddenly found himself frozen, immobilized, as if paralyzed.

Suddenly he seemed to have an epiphany, struggling to lower his head.

In an instant, his pupils contracted.

On his heart, a thick hand gently pressed, fingers deeply embedded with no blood spilling out.

"Didn’t the Western Sect tell you to stay out of this?"

Zhang Rongfang’s figure stood behind him, face calm, looking down from above.

"Me!!?"

In an instant, the masked man’s head was grabbed and twisted.

Crack!

A full 360-degree turn.

His body collapsed to the ground with a thud, rapidly shriveling and losing blood.