Chapter 30: The Moonlight Sect Part 1

The bronze plating expanded outward, sinking into the mud like a sharp blade. Before the crowd’s eyes, a pitch-black abyss yawned open.

There was no light within, and none could tell how deep it went, nor if it was merely another nest for snakes and insects.

Someone cried out in alarm, “There’s a secret chamber beneath the ground? Could it be a trap?”

No one could offer an answer.

Another voice rose, “The Hantian Alliance is truly impressive to have obtained the blueprints for this underground structure.”

The leader of the Hantian Alliance’s party replied, “According to Elder Zhou, she obtained this item by a stroke of luck.”

A stroke of luck?

Feng Yun’ai did not believe it for a second. She had followed Feng Rong for years and had never once seen such a thing.

“Could it have been drawn by the person who built this mechanical secret passage?”

“Who would draw something so vital on a silk scroll?”

Feng Yun’ai glanced at Sang Chencao, only to find the woman’s eyes wide with genuine shock. Clearly, this was her first time seeing it as well.

Someone lit a fire-starter and tossed it into the hole, then pressed an ear to the edge to listen. “It doesn’t seem to be a snake pit,” he said coldly. “Let’s go down and see.”

The Hantian Alliance members were the first to leap in to scout the way, with the other sects following close behind.

Faint shouts echoed from within. “The entrance is very deep, but it opens up as you go further. You can all come down—”

Before Feng Yun’ai could move, the horse behind her let out a sharp whinny. The indigo-clothed woman suddenly stepped off the saddle, her body gliding gracefully into the hole like a bird.

Feng Yun’ai frowned and followed. As she descended, she carefully observed her surroundings, her suspicions of Wen Lanxin deepening.

Even the indigo-clothed woman had never seen this mechanical passage. It seemed Wen Lanxin hid things well and harbored many secrets.

Had it not been for that silk scroll, no one would have guessed that this bizarre, lush valley hidden beneath the cliff concealed such a profound mystery.

The path began as a narrow trail, barely wide enough for one person, but it truly did widen as they walked. There was no telling where this secret passage might lead. The Yellow Sand Cliff stretched on endlessly; if someone had the will to dig, they could likely tunnel to the very ends of the earth.

Sang Chencao brushed her fingers against the mud walls as they walked. She let out a sudden, soft laugh, her pace light and cheerful without a hint of hesitation.

“It seems Wen Lanxin didn’t tell you everything after all,” Feng Yun’ai whispered, throwing the woman’s earlier words back at her with a cold edge.

The barb didn’t seem to wound Sang Chencao in the slightest. She turned back with crescent eyes, smiling. “From the very beginning, she never told me everything.”

Feng Yun’ai pressed, “She kept things from you.”

“My relationship with her never reached the point where we shared every word,” Sang Chencao replied, perfectly composed.

Feng Yun’ai fell silent. Whenever she spoke with this woman, she always felt a certain sense of… helplessness, as if she didn’t know how to form the right words.

A voice suddenly rang out from deeper within. “This is a library! There are so many classic manuals and secret techniques here!”

“No,” another person countered. “There’s everything here—portraits and miscellaneous items, too.”

Lamps along the mud walls were lit one by one, illuminating screens and cabinets.

The place had clearly been sealed for many years. It made sense; there seemed to be only one entrance, and once it was covered by vegetation, entry and exit became nearly impossible.

This wasn’t a library at all. It was more like a tomb Wen Lanxin had built to bury all these objects deep underground forever.

The crowd was dazzled. Some had already picked up manuals, poring over them with obsessive fascination.

As the Hantian Alliance members searched the area, a sharp rip echoed nearby, drawing everyone’s attention.

The outer layer of a screen had been torn away, revealing another piece of silk hidden beneath. The embroidery on that silk was not the landscape from before, but…

A figure familiar to the entire Central Plains martial arts world.

It was Feng Rong!

The tall, elegant figure stood at the edge of a steep cliff, long sleeves fluttering as if caught in the wind, sword pointed directly at the world below. It was undeniably Feng Rong.

“Alliance Leader Feng! It’s Alliance Leader Feng!”

The expressions of the crowd shifted. They began to strip the other screens and even lowered the paintings hanging high above.

As expected, whether it was a screen or a painting, every single one had two layers. And beneath every single one, without exception, was an image of Feng Rong.

Feng Yun’ai watched, her heart pounding with dread. She didn’t understand what kind of bond this was, but if it were a mere casual relationship, one would never go to such lengths.

Sang Chencao chuckled softly. “You see? Did I lie to you?”

Feng Yun’ai could recognize those silhouettes on the paintings and screens at a single glance. What kind of devotion was required to embroider and paint them so accurately?

“The Moonlight Sect! They come from the same origin! They are descendants of the Moonlight Sect!” someone suddenly shrieked at the top of their lungs.

The moment the name “Moonlight Sect” was uttered, the crowd froze. A tremor of unease rippled through their hearts.

The Hantian Alliance members walked toward the one who had screamed. He was holding a slender volume.

The book was exquisite, covered in a layer of silk embroidered with silver thread. On the silk, several characters were written in a flamboyant, dancing script:

Annals of the Moonlight Sect.

Upon flipping to the first page, one could see the names of every direct disciple since the sect’s founding.

On the final page, the names were clearly written: Feng Rong and Wen Lanxin.

The man holding the book trembled, his voice hoarse. “How can Alliance Leader Feng be a descendant of the Moonlight Sect? Wasn’t that sect wiped out fifty years ago?”

Feng Yun’ai was stunned. She had never heard of the Moonlight Sect. The name had never appeared in any of the records on Listening Goose Peak.

But as her thoughts raced, her heart slammed against her ribs.

No, she had seen a page in the Records of the Martial World that hadn’t been fully torn out. That tiny scrap of a page-corner had puzzled her for a long time.

It wasn’t that the record didn’t exist; Feng Rong had deliberately hidden it.

Someone muttered, “How can it be the Moonlight Sect? The Moonlight Sect…”

Another person finished the thought, “None of them were good people.”

“The people of the Moonlight Sect were twisted and bizarre, yet they all possessed supreme talent. They went around plundering the secret manuals of every sect, learning the techniques of every school, and then used those very techniques to challenge them at their own gates.”