It was a while before Qingming finally spoke. “That demon didn’t show up because of anything recent. Gu Zhixuan never makes a move without careful planning. This was a step he calculated long ago.”

The others weren’t sure why he suddenly brought up Jade Wanderer, but Li Xun, listening nearby, had a feeling that Qingming was trying to hide something behind those words.

He didn’t dwell on it. Just then, he heard Qingming give a quiet order: “Let’s go.”

The cloud chariot, which had stopped due to the earlier incident, started moving again. This time, they didn’t use the A Single Stick of Incense formation. Instead, it shifted into the “Unbound Wind” formation, a style that balanced both offense and defense, advancing steadily toward the city that never sleeps.

Li Xun bowed toward the main palanquin, then quietly took his assigned position. He had a good sense of when to play which role, and how.

Still, after meeting the old Kunpeng demon, he had a feeling that what awaited them in the North Pole was going to be... eventful.

The arrival of the Mingxin Sword Sect’s leader naturally stirred up quite a bit of activity in the Nightless City. Even Master Tianzhi, who was still injured, came out to greet him despite her condition.

To Li Xun’s disappointment, though, he didn’t get to see her. Before Tianzhi could appear, the head of Voidmist Sect from Mount Weiyu, Ling Fengzi, arrived with his disciples in tow. The scene grew busy and a bit chaotic, and the junior disciples like Li Xun were taken elsewhere.

So, in the end, he missed the chance to witness the presence of the only female sect leader among the ten righteous sects.

The combined disciples of Mingxin Sword and Voidmist  Sects numbered over forty. Most were men, with only five women among them. Naturally, the girls stuck together, laughing and chatting as they followed a female cultivator who had come to escort them.

That little scene was enough to catch the attention of nearly half the male disciples, but none of them dared follow.

The thirty or so men left behind, along with the four disciples from the Nightless City who had come to receive them, were all from reputable sects and familiar with one another. Before long, they’d paired off with old friends and fallen into casual conversation.

Li Xun, being young and fairly new to cultivation, barely recognized all his own sect brothers; let alone disciples from other sects. Thankfully, a few friendly senior brothers took it upon themselves to introduce him around, helping him figure out who was who.

But the conversations among these “righteous” sect disciples were painfully dull. It was always the same vague talk of what they’d been up to since parting ways, some half-true, half-false recollections, and the occasional travel anecdote. Nowhere near as colorful as the friends he’d made back in the Shadow-Devouring Soul Sect. Those guys never held back. Their favorite topics were always the same: strong drink, beautiful women, and anything wild enough to leave a scar or a story.

Sometimes, those chats would turn sharp, mental chess matches with real stakes. And if things got heated, blades came out. Blood would be spilled before anyone backed down.

Of course, Li Xun knew all that was a kind of emotional pressure valve, forged by the brutal environment of a demonic sect.

But he didn’t believe for a second that the disciples of these so-called righteous sects weren’t carrying their own kind of pressure.

“Just a matter of time before you all snap…”

He muttered the joke under his breath, more to amuse himself than anything else.

As his thoughts wandered, a loud, almost shrill voice suddenly rang out: “Yin-Yang Sect?!”

Li Xun turned, puzzled, just in time to see a disciple from the Voidmist Sect standing there slack-jawed. His flowing, ethereal robes only made the expression look more ridiculous.

Right beside him, Wenhai wore an equally baffled look. “The Yin-Yang Sect? What are they doing here?”

Li Xun was taken aback too. Of course he knew the Yin-Yang Sect; it was the only sect in the entire Tongxuan Realm known for its dual cultivation methods, famous (or infamous) across the land.

It was one of the so-called “Four Oddities,” operating in that gray area between right and wrong. More often than not, people lumped it together with Bliss Sect, a notorious demonic sect known for harvesting yang energy from men to boost yin energy in women. That pretty much said everything about its reputation.

Could a sect like that really act like the righteous ones gathered here? Altruistic? Public-spirited? Willing to step up for the greater good?

The thought made Li Xun almost laugh. But then something else came to mind: Wasn’t there a rumor that Nether Two used to be the previous head of the Yin-Yang Sect? Supposedly, she’d defected years ago…

He’d heard that tale back when he was in the Shadow-Devouring Soul Sect. It went something like this: back when Yin Wanderer was still the sect leader, one of the key figures in the sect was kidnapped by Jade Wanderer and turned into a human cauldron; her mind erased through cultivation. That person supposedly became the current Feather Attendant, one of the Five Attendants of the Miaohua Sect.

That disgrace was said to be what drove Yin Wanderer to obsessively cultivate the Yin Charm Scripture, eventually suffering a qi deviation that twisted her personality and led her to leave the sect in betrayal.

Li Xun had spent enough time around Yin Wanderer to doubt any of that. The woman had never once shown signs of madness. So at the time, he’d brushed it off as just another juicy tale from the fringe.

But now? Could it have been true all along? If so, then Yin Wanderer and Jade Wanderer were mortal enemies.

As the thought hit him, a chill shot down his spine. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up. A cold dread seemed to crawl from the base of his tailbone all the way to his skull.

His body stiffened immediately; he knew at once that someone with profound cultivation was watching him.

His mind raced, and in the next moment, he let a look of confusion spread across his face. He glanced around as if he’d sensed something strange but didn’t quite understand what it was. Every subtle reaction was right there on his face, the picture of someone with little training in hiding their thoughts.

But even after putting on that little act, the chill didn’t go away. It lingered, cold and unrelenting.

Li Xun’s heart sank. Whoever was watching him clearly had a sharp, focused mind and wasn’t going to be fooled that easily. With no other choice, he leaned into the performance, letting real unease show on his face. Then he lightly bumped the arm of Wu Lingquan, who was standing beside him.

Wu Lingquan was one of the “Three Spirits” of the Mingxin Sword Sect and the senior disciple of Immortal Master Mingsong. That made him a direct elder brother to Dan Zhi. And thanks to that connection, he’d always looked out for Li Xun.

More importantly, Wu Lingquan was openhearted and straightforward, the kind of person least likely to have hidden motives. When he noticed Li Xun’s strange behavior, he looked over in concern. “Junior brother, are you feeling alright?”

Li Xun shook his head and answered honestly, “I’m not sure. I just… have this weird feeling that someone’s watching me.”

His voice was barely above a whisper, but his lips movements were clear; they're meant for the person hiding in the shadows to see.

Sure enough, as soon as he spoke, the chill along his spine vanished.

Wu Lingquan chuckled softly at his words. “Watching you? Junior brother, have you just never been around this many people before? Don’t worry. Maybe it’s just a senior sister from another sect who thinks you’re handsome.”

As if unable to hold up against Wu Lingquan’s teasing, Li Xun lowered his head in embarrassment. But, deep down, he felt a wave of relief. Who could it have been, watching me so closely? And why?

He was still turning the thought over when a noise from up ahead drew his attention. Just as he looked up, Wu Lingquan gently tugged his sleeve and steered him to the side of the road. A moment later, seven or eight figures approached from the opposite direction.

Li Xun caught a glimpse of them... and nearly looked away out of reflex. But over the past two years, he’d learned to steady himself. He reminded himself he was not Hundred Ghosts of the Shadow-Devouring Soul Sect at this moment. He was Li Xun of the Mingxin Sword Sect. Steeling his nerves, he bowed along with the others in greeting.

Face after vaguely familiar face passed by, and Li Xun remembered them all too well. Two years ago, on Mount Chicheng, full of youthful arrogance and facing certain death, he had taken Luo Yujie hostage and escaped with composure. And the ones who had fought to stop him back then... were these very people.

The one Li Xun remembered most clearly was the short, stocky cultivator, Dongyang Hermit. Back then, he had pierced his chest with a single finger, and Li Xun had only managed to survive it by using the Unmoving Evil Heart technique.

There was also Dragon Madman, the rugged-looking man with the massive broadsword on his back. His image was hard to forget.

They passed by quickly, offering polite nods in return, not one of them recognizing that the very disciple standing just a few steps away in this crowd was the same Hundred Ghosts who had so thoroughly humiliated them two years ago.

Li Xun was just about to let out a quiet sigh of relief when he suddenly felt a gaze pause on his face.

His heart skipped. He looked up. And locked eyes with a striking female cultivator. He vaguely remembered her. On Mount Chicheng, she was the one he’d ordered to hold up Luo Yujie…

Their eyes met. Li Xun’s face flushed, and he instinctively lowered his gaze. The woman gave a faint smile, then turned and vanished into the crowd.

Cold sweat soaked through the back of his robes.

And just like that, the chill he thought had gone... crept back in.

Li Xun’s mood sank like a stone.