The disturbance from deep within the earth veins was amplified almost infinitely. In an instant, rocks and debris rained down from above, forcing everyone to circulate their spiritual energy to fend off the barrage of flying stones.
This cramped space held dozens of people. If the narrow passage collapsed, it would spell serious trouble.
Lu Shiyuan had just survived a brush with death, and now another crisis struck. Her meager cultivation could hardly endure such relentless trials.
Her lips had gone pale. Her back tensed unconsciously, and her fingers clenched tight. Shang Si quickly noticed this instinctive reaction.
Shang Si glanced sideways at her with faint worry and gave her hand a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
“I’m fine,” Lu Shiyuan murmured softly, catching the deliberate comfort. “I took some pills earlier. My spiritual power is recovering slowly.”
Meanwhile, unrest stirred among the crowd.
“What’s going on? They said Kunlun Main Peak hadn’t stirred in centuries. Why do we hit this the moment we arrive?” The disturbance grew fiercer. In the blink of an eye, spiderweb cracks spidered across the rocky ground beneath their feet. No one could afford to wait any longer.
Someone tried fleeing back the way they came. A hundred meters out, they slammed into an invisible barrier. Golden light flashed, hurling them back.
Moments later, the spiderweb cracks spreading underfoot glowed with an eerie golden light. They looked haphazard at first glance, but anyone with a keen eye recognized them as formation patterns—each crack extending toward the boundaries in precise, regulated paths.
By chance, several formation masters from Purple Firmament were present among the sects’ representatives. Elder Qingyue, their leader, spoke up at once, unveiling the mystery. “These golden lines beneath our feet resemble formation patterns. With all your vast experience, does anyone recognize this array?”
“If even you don’t know, how would we?”
“Elder Qingyue, Purple Firmament specializes in formations. Even if you’ve never seen it, surely you have some insight?” The suggestion drew dozens of eyes to the Purple Firmament group in an instant.
Elder Qingyue felt the weight of their stares.
She furrowed her delicate brows and paused in silence before taking a small step forward. “Very well. I’ll give it a try.”
Her hands flashed through seals as her feet traced a peculiar stepping pattern along the golden lines on the rock. She advanced mere meters before a surge of powerful energy struck her down. Blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
“Elder Qingyue!” Her Purple Firmament disciples surged forward.
Out of kindness, Lu Shiyuan retrieved several protective spiritual medicines Hua Qiu had given her from her Spirit Ring. She crouched beside Elder Qingyue.
Elder Qingyue clutched her chest, coughed twice, and mustered a feeble, wry smile. “Cough cough… Everyone, this Elder Qingyue is sorely lacking in knowledge. I’ve truly never encountered such a bizarre formation.”
“Purple Firmament’s fame seems overhyped after all,” drawled a handsome man nearby, who had stayed silent until now. He let out a soft, mocking chuckle.
His features were striking, marked by an overt feminine beauty, and the unmistakable fox aura clinging to him required no effort to identify.
Ever since Ling Yuan, Lu Shiyuan harbored no fondness for foxes—silver or nine-tailed. They always spoke in that irritating tone. She offered the spiritual medicines to Elder Qingyue and fired back with sarcasm. “If Purple Firmament can’t manage it, then you can. Why not give it a try yourself?”
The handsome man slid a sidelong glance her way. His fox eyes narrowed in dangerous slits.
Just then, Shang Si sauntered over and picked up Lu Shiyuan’s thread as if by accident, her voice lazy. “Shiyuan, that’s quite the way to put it. The Nine-Tailed Fox clan is renowned for its prodigies. How do you know they wouldn’t dare?”
The two women played off each other seamlessly, shoving the man into the hot seat.
The deep-earth disturbance had paused for now. Trapped but in no immediate peril, the onlookers watched the exchange like eager spectators at a play.
A familiar voice teased to stoke the fire. “Cheng Fang, two women have backed you into a corner. You gonna take that?”
Cheng Fang was the man’s name.
He didn’t bite, merely smiling indifferently. “No need to goad me, ladies. I know my limits.” He shut his mouth wisely, sparing further barbs that might inflame tensions.
Shang Si’s cultivation was an enigma. Her single sword stroke felling the Sea Wolf had left everyone with chills.
Those who had witnessed the Ye Capital Grand Wedding three years prior recognized the Ye Capital Female Sovereign. The rest, after that display, knew better than to cross her.
The scene fell quiet.
In that short time, Elder Qingyue had finished regulating her breathing and stabilized her injuries. All that was left was for the pills she had swallowed to slowly take effect and begin the healing process.
With the support of her nearby disciples, she rose to her feet and turned to Lu Shiyuan. “You’re Lu Shiyuan, aren’t you? I remember you well. You made quite a splash at the last Dao Discussion Assembly. Thank you for these two pills—they’ve helped me steady my wounds.”
“Elder Qingyue, that’s ancient history now. You can see what shape I’m in these days,” Lu Shiyuan replied with a wry smile, curving her lips as she smoothly changed the subject. She clearly had no desire to dwell on her past triumphs.
Elder Qingyue was no fool when it came to reading the room, so she shifted her gaze to Shang Si standing beside Lu Shiyuan. “Since Shiyuan managed to show up here on her own, the one at her side must be the Ye Capital Female Sovereign, I presume?”
Their grand wedding had been the talk of the Three Realms, after all. A little deduction was all it took to figure out Shang Si’s identity.
Shang Si gave her a friendly nod, her demeanor far less haughty than it had been with Feng Xing. Her affections and aversions were plain to see.
After Elder Qingyue had been prodded into playing the fool and gained nothing for it, the group finally settled down and began hatching their own plans.
Those with established ties—like the sects of Purple Firmament and Azure City Mansion, which often crossed paths—naturally banded together to strategize. The Demon Race families, meanwhile, stuck to their kin as a first choice.
In short order, humans and demons divided into two clear factions.
“It’s the Ancient Strangling Grand Formation,” Shang Si announced bluntly, seeing the group at an impasse and declining to play coy. “Once it’s activated, brute force is the only way out. Any ordinary attempt to unravel it is just suicide.”
Her words cast the room into utter silence.
Purple Firmament did specialize in formations, it was true. But surviving ancient grand formations were few and far between these days. Elder Qingyue appeared too young to possess such arcane knowledge.
Shang Si’s insight was another story entirely.
What mortal cultivator could hope to match the vast learning of successive Ye Lords?
Abruptly, a young disciple piped up in challenge. “Got any proof for that? We’re trapped, sure, but there’s no immediate threat to our lives. Calling it the Ancient Strangling Grand Formation feels like scaremongering.”
“A Si doesn’t need proof. Believe her if you know what’s good for you,” Lu Shiyuan shot back. Always courteous before, she now scowled at the idiot and spoke without mincing words.
Shang Si blinked in mild surprise at the fierce protectiveness.
In high spirits, she twirled the Gold Bell on her wrist and leaned in close to Lu Shiyuan, her vermilion lips parting effortlessly. “Shiyuan’s said it all. We’re only sitting here chatting because we’ve blundered into the formation without anyone manning it yet. The moment the setter realizes, the real fight begins. Rather than bickering with me, you’d do better to ponder your odds when it kicks off.”
Her offhand remarks plunged everyone into panic.
Seizing the distraction of the ensuing debates, Lu Shiyuan drew Shang Si aside to a quiet corner. The two conferred in hushed tones. “A Si… do you think this ties into some plot from the Demon Realm?”
The Demon Realm had gone quiet since Ling Yuan’s death three years prior, keeping its head down with no hint of trouble. Yet here they were, unearthing an Ancient Strangling Grand Formation amid the peaks of Kunlun Main Peak!
Who but the boldest could plant such a thing undetected under the watchful eyes of a premier cultivation sect?
The notion alone sent chills crawling over the scalp.
Shang Si had no firm answer for Lu Shiyuan’s question. She shook her head. “Not sure yet. But when this Strangling Grand Formation fires up, it’ll be kill or be killed. Stick close to me, Shiyuan—no wandering off.”
Away from prying eyes, a rare gravity settled in Shang Si’s gaze, her earlier breezy nonchalance vanished.
Lu Shiyuan seldom saw that look on her face. She hesitated a moment, then nodded. “Understood.”
“Did you stow the Black Iron Token I gave you? I’ve infused it with three strands of my divine sense. It’ll shield you if your life hangs in the balance.” Even after the reminders, Shang Si fretted. She clasped Lu Shiyuan’s hand and meticulously inspected her protective treasures before easing up a fraction.
Time dragged on mercilessly, anxiety gripping the entire group.
Shang Si had made an attempt in the interim, but the energy amassed in the formation’s core was overwhelmingly vast. Even she couldn’t overcome it just yet.
During this time, a fog had gradually risen around them, starting so faint as to be barely noticeable before thickening until visibility plummeted, finally catching everyone’s attention.
The dense mist swiftly enveloped the entire space, until they could scarcely make out one another.
Even pressed close together, Lu Shiyuan had lost Shang Si.
“A Si?” Her grip tightened on the Azure Frost Sword as Lu Shiyuan steadied her breathing and crept forward with utmost caution.
She called out softly, over and over, but received no reply.
The group that had been huddled together just moments before seemed to vanish into thin air, their presence erased in an instant.
Not only that, but Shang Si—who had been right at her side the second before—disappeared after a mere turn of the head.
This baffling fog seemed to devour people. The cramped space, already narrow, now stretched endlessly no matter which way she went once the mist had rolled in.
“A Si!” Lu Shiyuan called again. The fog muffled her voice, sending it echoing back from some distant point.
She glimpsed a hazy silhouette nearby and hurried toward it in a few quick strides. But as she drew close, the figure’s outline dissolved into nothing. When she whipped around, there it was again in another spot—long dark hair, red skirts, flickering between reality and illusion.
“It’s an illusion.” Burned by a similar trick before, Lu Shiyuan quickly realized there was something off about the mist she had breathed in. She stopped darting about like a headless fly, promptly sat cross-legged on the ground, and circulated her spiritual energy to fend off the white fog’s encroachment. At the same time, she popped two spiritual medicines into her mouth.
Yet her response came a touch too late. Vast swaths of thick fog around her moved as if alive, consciously converging on her inch by inch. And Shang Si’s voice began ringing out from every direction—
“Shiyuan…”
“Lu Shiyuan, I’m here.”
“Lu Shiyuan?”
Lu Shiyuan squeezed her eyes shut, the effort mounting.
Before long, a thin sheen of sweat beaded across her forehead, gathering into droplets that slid slowly down her cheeks.
Reason screamed in her mind that these were hallucinations, that the real Shang Si wasn’t here. But the white mist infiltrating her body wielded a bewitching power, steadily gnawing away at her faltering consciousness.
