Zhantian Xiang dashed towards the Forging Pavilion, but before she even stepped inside, she could already hear Jian Xiaolou's cheerful laughter.
Using her spiritual sense, she checked the scene and realized her worries were unfounded. Jian Xiaolou wasn't in any trouble; she was happily chatting with a male cultivator. Feeling exasperated for worrying unnecessarily, Zhantian Xiang turned on her heel and left, irritated at herself for overthinking.
She returned to her quarters in low spirits and was about to activate the room's defensive ward when a fierce gust of wind transformed into a massive fist and slammed into her chest. Shocked, Zhantian Xiang tried to activate her defensive spell but was too late. In an instant, she used a Shrinking Technique to retreat backward, swiftly drawing her arm to release a bolt from her crossbow.
But the overwhelming force of the wind suppressed the bolt; it barely traveled a foot before clattering to the ground.
Wham!
The fierce punch landed squarely on her chest, and with a gasp, she spat out blood, her body flying backward and crashing heavily onto Jian Xiaolou's bed inside the room. The door slammed shut from the impact of the wind, and a crimson glow emanated from all around—her assailants had locked the space with an enchantment.
Two figures gradually materialized in the room, resolving from blurry shadows into solid forms: two elderly men at the Golden Core stage. One was tall and slender, with a long white beard and snow-white hair, his complexion pale and radiant. The other was short and stout, with jet-black hair and a dark, weathered face.
The white-haired elder's face darkened. He quickly stepped forward and stuffed a healing pill into Zhantian Xiang's mouth, glaring at his dark-haired counterpart. "You reckless old fool! Why did you strike so hard? Are you trying to kill him?"
The dark-haired elder snorted coldly. "So what if he dies? Useless trash. I have no idea why the First Young Master chose such a worthless person!"
The punch had fractured several of Zhantian Xiang's meridians. Fortunately, the healing pill was administered in time; otherwise, she would have passed out from the damage. Enduring the excruciating pain, she wobbled to her feet, bowed, and kept her eyes lowered. "Subordinate greets White Elder and Black Elder."
Despite hunching her back, she still towered over Black Elder by more than half a head. He flared his nostrils, his hot breath puffing out in anger. "You wretched girl, have you forgotten your true purpose here in the Fire Refining Sect? Did you really think you were here to learn artifact crafting?"
Zhantian Xiang bowed even lower. "I dare not."
White Elder gently took her hand, patting it kindly. "Enough. We're just here to remind you: the First Young Master has started his plan. We hope everything on your end goes smoothly."
Zhantian Xiang obediently nodded. "I understand."
Black Elder wasn't satisfied, though. He jabbed a withered finger at her forehead and continued to scold, "You better not mess this up! The First Young Master may not be able to protect you if you ruin this!"
"Yes, I understand," she replied, even as spittle sprayed all over her face. She kept her head bowed, not daring to lift it. The pressure from Black Elder's Golden Core aura was suffocating, and she had no way of resisting it.
Only when Black Elder felt satisfied did he stroke his beard and prepare to vanish. But then he felt a gaze seemingly locked onto him. Startled, he scanned the room and realized it came from a jet-black myna bird in a cage by the window.
Perched on its wooden stick, Xiaohei, the bird, was drinking water. Its beady, greenish eyes fixed curiously on Black Elder.
"What are you staring at, you feathered creature?" Black Elder growled. "Look again, and I'll gouge your eyes out!"
Xiaohei cocked its head, turned around, and showed him its backside.
Black Elder froze, then erupted in fury. "Turn back here, you damn bird!"
The bird ignored him, fluttered its wings, and tucked its head in to sleep. Black Elder lunged to crush it, but White Elder grabbed him by the collar and lifted him off the ground. "You old coot, getting riled up by a bird?" But then White Elder turned, a cold glint in his eyes. "It may just be a dumb bird, but mynas are infamous for mimicking speech…"
Realizing how important Xiaohei was to Jian Xiaolou, Zhantian Xiang's heart sank. She quickly spoke up, "Master, Xiaohei is a mute and a simpleton. It doesn't even know how to chirp, let alone mimic words!"
White Elder let it go. The First Young Master had ordered that any plans related to the Fire Refining Sect must obey this person unconditionally. And, truthfully, White Elder didn't think much of a simple bird. Yet, to be cautious, he sent a blast of spiritual pressure to numb Xiaohei's mind further, making the bird even dumber.
Then, grabbing Black Elder, he vanished into a wisp of green smoke. They reappeared just outside of Floating Light City.
As soon as they landed, Black Elder started cursing. "You sycophant! You're a Golden Core cultivator, yet you're afraid of a mere Foundation Establishment runt!"
White Elder's face darkened. "Do you even know who he is?"
"Who cares?" Black Elder spat. "If the First Young Master is so protective, it must be his lover. But even so, why choose someone so useless for such an important mission?"
White Elder could only laugh. "His lover? No wonder you despise him. But you're wrong. This isn't something you should be joking about." Seeing the confusion on Black Elder's face, White Elder finally whispered the truth.
"Do you know who the Second Young Master of the Zhan family is?"
Black Elder rolled his eyes. "Of course! Even though I haven't met him, I'm not ignorant of his name—Zhan Tianxiang."
White Elder simply smiled, waiting for the realization to dawn. Black Elder blinked, then muttered to himself, "Zhan Tianxiang… Zhantian Xiang… wait, Zhantian Xiang is… Zhan Tianxiang? The disgrace of the Zhan family with the useless spiritual roots?"
White Elder nodded. "That's right. He's not as useless as you think. He may be the hidden sword the Zhan family has been honing for years."
Black Elder struggled to process this. "But his willpower is weak. He's always too softhearted. How can he be extraordinary?"
White Elder countered, "He can change his appearance at will, evade detection from even you, and fool anyone with his disguise. Isn't that extraordinary enough?"
"Does he have some secret treasure?" Black Elder muttered.
White Elder shook his head. "I don't know. But being able to alter his form is likely just one of his secrets." Finally, he sighed, "Yet I fear the First Young Master has made a misstep."
"How so?"
"The Second Young Master is only nineteen, an age when the heart easily wavers…"
"Creak."
The door's enchantment clicked open as Jian Xiaolou strolled back in. Her footsteps weren't quiet, and there was no way Zhan Tianxiang, even if pretending, couldn't hear her coming.
At that moment, he was using spiritual energy to mend his broken meridians. Sensing her return, he hastily withdrew his energy and collapsed onto the bed, feigning sleep. If Jian Xiaolou detected the energy fluctuations of a Foundation Establishment cultivator, he wouldn't know how to explain.
"Hey, long-legs?"
The room was pitch black. Jian Xiaolou summoned a sliver of spiritual energy, creating a soft light. Seeing Zhan Tianxiang breathing evenly in supposed slumber, she frowned. His guard was down. Tomorrow, they'd have to talk about his awareness.
Yawning, she crawled onto her own bed—or rather, what was left of it. But something didn't feel right. As she shifted, she noticed an odd sensation. Then, with a sharp realization, she leapt up. The bed beneath her crumbled into splinters with a loud crash.
"What the hell?!" Jian Xiaolou shouted, astonished, her face dusted with the remnants of her shattered bed.
Zhan Tianxiang sat up with a start. The memory of being thrown onto the bed earlier resurfaced. No wonder it had collapsed.
Jian Xiaolou glared at him. "Did you do this?"
Zhan Tianxiang, feeling utterly miserable, clenched his jaw. "Why would I destroy your bed for no reason?"
"Are you sure?" Her suspicion lingered. The bed had been shattered by a cultivator's pressure—who else could've done it?
"Of course, I didn't!" he retorted. Desperate, he kept up his denial. Jian Xiaolou had to admit he had no reason to wreck her bed and decided it might have been her own energy surging while she slept.
Just as Zhan Tianxiang was trying to suppress his turbulent energy,