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The woman was clad in a pale pink, asymmetrical short skirt that hugged her figure, exposing the graceful curve of her neck and her prominent, delicate collarbones. Her cascading raven hair was bound by a ribbon and adorned with a butterfly hairpin, with a single playful strand resting against her chest. She wore only light makeup, yet it was enough to enhance her natural allure. She appeared as both a fiery, seductive enchantress and a pure, ethereal spirit of ice and snow.
Xiao Yifeng was drawn to her not by her beauty, but by the memories of his past life. He had dealt with this witch far too many times. She was none other than Mo Shuiyao, the true disciple of the Chanmian Pavilion.
Beside her stood a man, handsome and elegant, the very image of a refined young nobleman. Dressed entirely in black, he gently waved a folding fan.
His appearance was pleasant, putting people at ease, but beneath that veneer lay Lin Xiao, the notoriously ruthless true disciple of Biyan City.
In his previous life, when Xiao Yifeng entered the Immortal Abode, these two had also been present. It was no wonder they navigated this place with such familiarity in his memories; they had already explored it once before.
Xiao Yifeng swept his gaze over the rest of the crowd. They were clearly divided into three factions. One group consisted of rogue cultivators and those treading the gray area between good and evil. Another comprised members of the righteous sects, gathered around figures like Lingyun. The last group, naturally, was made up of demonic cultivators led by Mo Shuiyao and Lin Xiao.
Leading Su Miaoqing, Xiao Yifeng silently took his place on the side of the righteous path, though he maintained a deliberate distance from the main group.
The factions eyed each other warily. Before Xiao Yifeng’s arrival, the righteous side had been at a slight disadvantage.
From the distance, two more meteorites drifted in, depositing a man and a woman. The crowd dismissed the man with a single glance; he was merely at the early stage of Foundation Establishment, unworthy of concern.
The woman, however, radiated the spiritual fluctuations of the early Golden Core stage. Her appearance was gentle and moving. She wore a pale green dress with light blue peonies embroidered on the cuffs, silver threads outlining auspicious clouds. A wide band of light yellow brocade wrapped around her chest. As she turned, her long skirt unfurled like a blossoming flower, her every movement as graceful as a willow swaying in the breeze.
Seeing the tense standoff, the woman paused, momentarily unsure of where to stand.
The red-haired Tyrant Blade, Liu Yue, spoke up. "I do not recognize this Fairy. Which sect do you hail from? I am Liu Yue of the Tyrant Blade Sect."
"Greetings, Fellow Daoist Liu. This humble woman is Luo Yun of the Luoshu Mansion." Luo Yun understood the situation quickly. After a polite curtsy, she walked over to join the righteous faction near Xiao Yifeng.
Xiao Yifeng did a quick headcount. The number of cultivators present had exceeded 20, reaching 26. His heart sank slightly.
They waited a while longer, but no one else arrived. Suddenly, the entire space trembled.
A vast, ancient voice echoed through the void—the same voice that had lured them into this space.
"The time for the Reincarnation Immortal Abode's opening has arrived. Only nine people may enter. The gates will open automatically once only nine remain. Those who wish to forfeit may pour half their essence blood into their jade pendants to be transported away."
As the voice faded, the expressions of everyone present changed drastically. Xiao Yifeng immediately pulled Su Miaoqing further away from the crowd to the edge of the arena, watching the others with heightened vigilance.
No one had expected a strict limit on the number of entrants. The cultivators frantically scanned the area.
Aside from the prominent figures, there was an exceptionally low-key rogue cultivator standing near Wang Laoxie, remaining completely silent.
Counting Xiao Yifeng—the impostor—there were exactly nine Golden Core cultivators in the field.
The righteous cultivators fell into a dilemma, paralyzed by their moral codes. The demonic path, however, suffered from no such hesitation.
Within the demonic crowd, a gloomy youth laughed darkly. "Cultivators below the Golden Core stage, be good and leave on your own. This lord will spare your lives. Do you want me to send you off, or will you walk?"
"Mo Yu, your methods are too unsightly. You should at least show some tenderness to the fair sex," Lin Xiao said, shaking his head with a faint smile.
"Hehe, Young Master Lin is truly humorous! Could it be that your little lover is among them? That would truly break my heart," Mo Shuiyao giggled, her voice dripping with charm.
On the neutral side, Wang Laoxie let out a cold sneer. "You all understand the math. Those of you Foundation Establishment runts, get lost. I don't have the patience to kill."
"How can you do this?! You rely on your high cultivation to force us out! That is half of our essence blood! Do you know how many years it will take to recover? Even if we do, our hopes for the Great Dao will be ruined!" a middle-aged man in the crowd shouted in fury.
"Exactly! Everyone, don't fear them! We have the numbers! Golden Core cultivators aren't invincible!" someone from the righteous faction yelled in support.
"Heaven has a road you refuse to take, and Hell has no door yet you barge in. No hope for the Great Dao? I'll make sure you have no life left to worry about it!" Mo Yu grinned savagely.
His figure vanished, reappearing like a ghost behind the outspoken middle-aged man. With a casual slap, the man's head exploded like a watermelon, showering Mo Yu in blood and brain matter.
Mo Yu licked the white slurry from his hand and laughed maniacally. His demon-like brutality struck terror into the hearts of the onlookers.
Two female cultivators, unable to withstand the psychological pressure, immediately poured half their essence blood into their jade pendants. The pendants flashed with golden light, tearing through space and whisking them away in an instant.
One domino fell, and the rest followed. Others, their courage broken, began to flee.
"Daoist Lingyun, Fellow Daoist Wuchen, Fairy Luo, Fellow Daoist Liu... surely you won't act like these demonic scums?" a trembling voice from the righteous camp asked.
The question hung in the air, creating an agonizing awkwardness among the righteous cultivators.
Xiao Yifeng ignored the moral quandary. He silently pulled Su Miaoqing behind him, whispering, "Miaoqing, stay right here. Do not run around!"
Hearing Xiao Yifeng address her by name for the first time—even knowing it was a disguise—gave Su Miaoqing an inexplicable sense of security.
She uttered a soft "Mm" and nodded firmly.
While the righteous side hesitated, the demonic cultivators watched with amusement.
"The righteous sects are so high and noble. I trust you wouldn't stoop to our level," Mo Shuiyao mocked, her eyes dancing with mirth. "But the spots are limited. I wonder, what do you plan to do?"
The atmosphere became stifling.
Su Miaoqing looked at Xiao Yifeng with worry, unsure of his plan and fearful he might be exposed. She felt torn.
Finally, it was Tyrant Blade Liu Yue who stepped forward. His voice was deep and resolute. "The spots are limited. Today, I will play the villain. If any of you can defeat me, you may enter the Immortal Abode. If I lose, I will leave without a word. Do you have any objections?"
"You call yourselves righteous, but in the end, you're just like the demonic path!" a Foundation Establishment cultivator roared, unable to contain his indignation.
Xiao Yifeng remained noncommittal, watching these naive people with cold detachment.
Cultivation was inherently an act of defiance against the heavens. The difference between the righteous and demonic paths lay only in their methods and creeds. If one cared only for humility and yielding, what was the point of cultivating immortality?
However, Luo Yun of the Luoshu Mansion showed a flicker of shame on her face. Seeing this, Xiao Yifeng shook his head inwardly. The woman’s aptitude might be excellent, but her mental fortitude was sorely lacking.