Ying Yue hovered above the ruined sect on her flying sword, the crisp autumn breeze ruffling her robes. Below, the destruction was absolute. Not a single building remained standing. The once-proud Eternal Harmony Sect was no more. She allowed herself a small smile, savoring the moment.

The sun’s golden light painted the morning in warmth, but Yue felt only the cold satisfaction of a mission nearly completed. The promise of a Core Formation pill dangled before her like ripe fruit, almost within reach. After ten long years at the peak of Foundation Establishment, her ascension was finally in sight. One more step. One more task. Then, she would leave this tedious role behind.

“Such a minor part to play for such a grand reward,” she thought, her lips curling into a grin. The breeze swirled leaves beneath her, and she felt like humming for a moment.

“Senior Sister Yue!” a sharp voice shattered her thoughts.

She turned sharply, frowning as Junior Sister Qing Lan pointed toward a figure in the distance. “There—do you see him? A survivor or… perhaps one of the attackers?”

Ying Yue’s grin faded, her good mood dimmed by the complication. “A survivor? That wasn’t part of the plan.”

The women of the Celestial Serenity Sect descended quickly, their swords slicing through the air in smooth, practiced arcs. As they neared, Yue’s sharp eyes took in the figure below—a man, weathered and hunched, standing beside the twisted branches of a fallen tree. His tattered robes and frail posture marked him as a mortal.

“Just an old man,” Yue thought, relaxing slightly. But the way he stood… there was something in his stance that made her pause. Could he be more than he seemed? The thought lingered for a moment before she dismissed it. No, he was nothing but a frightened relic clinging to the ruins of his home.

Her confidence returned—until her eyes fell on the body lying awkwardly in the branches of the tree behind him. Her heart lurched.

A body.

Her pulse quickened as realization struck like a thunderclap. Everything would be undone if the body revealed any clue to the Dark Moon Sect’s involvement. Not just her mission—her life would be forfeit. Every second mattered.

“Apprehend and question him!” Senior Sister Jing Fei’s commanding voice cut through the air, snapping Yue back to the present. The other women fanned out, surrounding the old man in a loose circle.

Yue cursed under her breath, frustration knotting her chest. She needed to act quickly. Just a small injection of Qi—subtle and precise—and the old man would die within hours. No questions, no evidence, no problem. She edged closer, her fingers itching with suppressed energy.

But Jing Fei reached him first, her presence like a wall Yue dared not cross. Yue gritted her teeth, her chance slipping away.

The old man trembled, his hunched shoulders quaking as he raised his hands in surrender. “Please,” he stammered, his voice frail and cracking. “Don’t hurt me! I’m just the caretaker. I… I’ve done nothing wrong.”

Jing Fei’s sharp eyes narrowed as she took a step closer. “This place reeks of blood, old man. Speak. What happened here?”

The old man hesitated, glancing nervously at the women surrounding him. His hands trembled as he gestured toward the ruins of the library. “I… I was buried beneath the rubble. When I awoke, everyone was gone. I… I gathered their bodies and gave them a proper burial.”

Ying Yue’s eyes narrowed, doubt prickling at the edges of her mind. “One old man moved all the bodies?” she thought. It seemed impossible. Yet his voice was so earnest, his trembling hands so convincing, she couldn’t be sure.

Jing Fei pointed toward the body in the tree. “And him? What of that corpse?”

The old man followed her gaze and let out a shuddering sigh, his shoulders slumping further. “I… I don’t know. He wasn’t from the sect. I was going to search him for clues, but then you esteemed cultivators arrived. Please…” His voice cracked, and tears welled in his eyes. “Help me get vengeance for my sect.”

Ying Yue’s doubt deepened as she watched the man’s trembling form. Something about him still felt off. His grief seemed too perfect, his fear too precise. But before she could act on her suspicions, Jing Fei stepped forward, her voice cutting through the tension like a blade.

“Enough. We’ll search him ourselves.” She turned to the other women, her expression hard. “Be thorough.”

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The burnt incense mingled with the crisp autumn air as Jin Wu stood before the Celestial Serenity Sect’s elders. They sat in a semicircle beneath the shadow of a towering peach tree, their expressions a mix of curiosity and concern. Jing Fei had just spoken, her tone soft but firm.

“An old mortal. How long could he live?” she asked, her words laced with apology as her gaze flicked to Jin Wu. He met her eyes and gave a polite smile, adding a subtle wink for good measure.

“If they only knew,” he muttered to himself, suppressing a smirk.

“We’ve never had a man in the sect, and he’s not an actual member of the Eternal Harmony Sect,” Ying Yue interjected. Her tone was sharper, her posture stiff. Jin Wu’s eyes flicked to her, narrowing ever so slightly.

Something’s amiss with that girl.

The dark spots on her soul weren’t just a curiosity—they were a warning. Poisoning? Disease? Or something far darker? Jin Wu’s Portent Art couldn’t yet discern the exact nature of the threat, but he knew one thing: Ying Yue wasn’t what she seemed.

Yet, as much as her presence unsettled him, he couldn’t linger. The Celestial Serenity Sect was no place for a man, even one as old and unassuming as he appeared. His time here had already stretched too long.

He straightened, drawing the elders’ attention, and cleared his throat. “Sect Master, if I may?”

The Sect Master, seated at the center, raised her eyes from her silent contemplation and gave a faint nod.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“I’ve been within the Eternal Harmony Sect for thirty years,” Jin Wu began, his tone measured and respectful. “In that time, I’ve not seen my family or tended to my worldly affairs. If the esteemed cultivators would allow it, I wish to leave and visit my kin.”

The elders exchanged glances, their murmurs low but steady. Some nodded in agreement; others frowned in hesitation. Jin Wu stood silently, his hands folded before him, the perfect picture of humility. He knew the truth didn’t matter here—what mattered was the story he sold.

Finally, the Sect Master rose, her expression unreadable. “Mr. Jin,” she said, her voice clear and authoritative, “we will assist you in reaching Tianshi Lake City. From there, you may arrange your travels.”

Jin Wu bowed deeply. “You honor me, Sect Master. Thank you.”

The Sect Master turned to the gathered elders. “As to the matter of the Eternal Harmony Sect, contact the other righteous path sects to see if anyone recognizes the tattoo symbol found on the attacker’s body. Elder Jing, assemble a team of senior disciples and continue the investigation.”

Her orders concluded, she swept from the room, the other elders trailing behind her like a flock of cranes.

Jing Fei lingered, signaling for Jin Wu to follow her. He complied, walking beside her down a bamboo-lined path that rustled softly in the morning breeze. Their silence was heavy, broken only by the crunch of their footsteps on the stone.

When they reached a small hut tucked into the grove, Jing Fei hesitated, her hands clasped tightly before her.

“I’m sorry,” she said at last, her voice barely above a whisper. “We have no robes for men, but I found some discarded clothing that should suffice.”

“You are too kind, Elder Jing,” Jin Wu replied, his tone warm and sincere. “I don’t require much.”

As they spoke, Jin Wu moved to the small stove in the corner, his hands deftly preparing tea from the supplies he found. Jing Fei watched him, her posture tense as if she were wrestling with something unsaid.

“We’ll provide silver and food for your journey,” she said finally.

Jin Wu nodded. “Thank you, Elder.”

The silence stretched again, but this time, it was Jing Fei who broke it, her voice trembling. “We should have been there.”

“Elder?” Jin Wu glanced at her, one brow arched.

“We should have arrived in time,” she said, her fists clenching at her sides. “We could have stopped what happened to your sect. It’s just… the Sect Master’s message was delayed. I’m sorry. I should have been there.”

Jin Wu set down the teapot, meeting her gaze. “Thank you, Elder, but…” He sighed, his expression softening. “You might have been dead. Anyone who could break through the Eternal Harmony Sect’s protective array must have been powerful. Your team might have been massacred alongside the rest.”

Jing Fei looked away, her guilt written in the tightness of her shoulders. They sat in silence, the tea cooling between them.

Finally, she stood, brushing off her robes. “Is there anything else you need, Mr. Jin?”

“Just rest,” Jin Wu replied with a kind smile.

Jing Fei nodded, though her guilt lingered in her expression. “Of course. Rest well. Tomorrow’s breakfast should lift your spirits—they serve carp.”

Jin Wu paused mid-sip, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Carp,” he murmured to himself. Of course, it would be carp.

As Jing Fei left, Jin Wu sipped his tea, the irony thick on his tongue. Yet, his thoughts darkened as a new question surfaced. “Who delayed the Sect Master’s message?” he murmured, turning the idea over in his mind. “Whoever it was… they’re playing a dangerous game.”

His gaze shifted toward the grove beyond the hut, where Ying Yue’s figure had vanished earlier. The dark spots on her soul tugged at his thoughts once more, and a slow smile crept across his face.

“Time to employ the Spiritwind Art,” Jin Wu muttered, his eyes glinting with resolve. “Let’s see what secrets this spotted soul is hiding.”

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Qi Cultivators at the Nascent Soul stage could detach their souls from their bodies and travel great distances. However, doing so made them sensitive to other detached souls nearby—a risk Jin Wu couldn’t afford if he wanted to keep his secrets.

Fortunately, the Celestial Spiritwind Art offered a better option. Jin Wu had spent 58 years mastering the technique under Old Yu’s gruff and impatient tutelage. Unlike soul projection, Spiritwind allowed him to traverse the spirit plane—a parallel dimension layered atop reality. It was a one-way mirror to the physical world: Jin Wu could observe without being observed, his presence hidden from even the most sensitive cultivators.

“Slowest student I’ve ever taught,” Old Yu’s voice echoed in his mind, bringing a faint smile to Jin Wu’s lips. “Took you 38 years just to figure out how to walk a straight line in the spirit plane.”

“Some of us don’t have eternity to waste fishing,” Jin Wu had once retorted.

His smile faded as the task at hand refocused his thoughts. Hours had passed as Jin Wu silently observed Ying Yue through the Spiritwind, his ethereal form floating unseen in the corner of her dimly lit room. She sat cross-legged, her back straight and her breathing slow, as though she were the picture of discipline. Yet something about her wasn’t right.

The dark spot on her soul pulsed faintly, an anomaly that refused to fade from Jin Wu’s thoughts. He focused on it again, but it resisted his probing, its nature frustratingly unclear. Was it poison? A curse? Or was it tied to something more sinister—her actions, her past? Whatever it was, it marked her as dangerous.

His gaze shifted to her left hand. A faint glow emanated from the ring on her index finger, its spatial energy unmistakable—a storage device. Jin Wu’s brow furrowed. What could she be hiding in there? He’d need to find a way to uncover its secrets, but not now. He couldn’t risk alerting her.

A flicker of energy caught his attention, pulling his focus upward. Streams of faint light extended from her forehead, glowing like spider silk as they disappeared into the distance.

“Qi transmission,” Jin Wu murmured to himself. She was communicating with someone.

Curiosity flared. Jin Wu followed the threads, his ethereal form gliding effortlessly through the walls and out into the open air. The transmission led him beyond the Celestial Serenity Sect’s boundaries, through a dense forest where the trees twisted like skeletal hands, before ending in a small clearing shrouded in shadow.

And then, he saw it.

The figure wasn’t a person. It was a void—a shape that absorbed light and cast none of its own. Its edges flickered and wavered like smoke, and its presence carried a weight that pressed against Jin Wu’s soul, making the currents of his Inner River churn uneasily. There was no aura, no Qi, only a profound emptiness that seemed to swallow the world around it.

Jin Wu’s ethereal form trembled as he hovered, hidden in the Spiritwind. He’d seen many horrors in his life, but this… this was something beyond comprehension. The shadow figure turned, though it had no face, and Jin Wu felt its attention graze the Spiritwind like a cold wind cutting through his core.

He froze, his thoughts racing. Could it sense him? No, it couldn’t—Spiritwind was impenetrable. And yet, the longer he lingered, the more he felt like prey in the presence of a predator.

Moments later, the streams of light from Ying Yue’s Qi transmission ceased. The shadow figure dissipated, its form unraveling into the air as though it had never existed. The clearing grew silent, but the oppressive weight of its presence lingered.

Jin Wu lingered for a moment longer, his mind racing. Only immortals could move through space without a gate. If this figure was indeed a transcendent being, then it was beyond anything Jin Wu had ever encountered—or was prepared to face.

His gaze drifted back toward the Celestial Serenity Sect, his thoughts dark and troubled.

“Why is she contacting a being like that?” he muttered to himself. “And why would it respond?”

Returning to Ying Yue’s room, Jin Wu found her still seated in meditation, her expression serene. Yet the faint pulse of the dark spot on her soul felt more ominous now, as though it were connected to the shadow he’d just witnessed.

One thing was clear: Ying Yue wasn’t what she seemed. And Jin Wu would need to keep a closer eye on her—far closer.

But for the first time in decades, a pang of doubt wormed its way into his mind. The Flow had brought him here, given him strength, shown him a path. Yet as he gazed at the ring on Ying Yue’s hand and the dark spots that marred her soul, he couldn’t help but wonder:

Had he finally encountered a current too strong for even him to master?