Chapter 18 The Misty Wastelands

The door was tightly shut, bolted from the inside.

Gu Pinglin raised his hand and rapped on the door twice—not too lightly, not too heavily.

After a long moment, Duan Qingming's voice drifted through. "Who is it?"

"It's me," replied Gu Pinglin.

"Come in."

The wooden door panel vibrated slightly, as if something had bumped against it, followed by the sound of the bolt hitting the floor.

The door swung open at his touch. As Gu Pinglin stepped into the room, he was immediately enveloped by the humid air permeating the space. A large bathtub dominated the center of the room—clearly, the occupant was bathing.

Jet-black hair spilled over the edge of the tub, with one strand clinging wetly to a pale neck. Duan Qingming reclined against the side of the tub, arms spread wide. Droplets of water traced paths down his firm chest. His narrow eyes were half-closed, his expression one of leisurely enjoyment. Wisps of steam rose faintly from the water, intensifying the strangely vivid flush that stained the corners of his eyes.

Both being men, Gu Pinglin was only momentarily stunned before snapping back to attention, his tone sharp. "What exactly is going on here?"

"What could possibly merit such urgency from you?" Duan Qingming slowly opened his eyes. He patted the rim of the tub. "Speak slowly. Would you care to join me? We could chat while I finish bathing."

Gu Pinglin glanced at the tub and declined curtly, "Thanks, but I've never had the habit of sharing a bath."

"Truly a pity," Duan Qingming paused, then chuckled. "However, many habits are cultivated over time. Why not give it a try?"

Gu Pinglin ignored his teasing. "What about that letter? What did you do?"

Duan Qingming feigned ignorance. "What letter?"

Disliking pointless circling, Gu Pinglin cut straight to the point. "It was you who referred them to the Duan Family Herb Garden."

"Ah, that matter…" Duan Qingming adopted an expression of sudden realization. "I sent them to the Duan Family Herb Garden. Could you possibly be dissatisfied with that outcome?"

"You intercepted and read my personal correspondence. Am I supposed to be grateful?"

"Of course. I resolved a troublesome issue for you quite effectively."

"Out of the goodness of your heart?" Gu Pinglin pierced his facade. "Sending them to work for the Duan family— Madam Qi will inevitably assume they are part of a faction you're cultivating. Do you imagine they'll have an easy time of it?"

"Let the two sides feud among themselves. Doesn't that conveniently save you the trouble?" Duan Qingming smiled at him. "Gu Xiaojiu, do you truly care so much about the Gu family?"

Gu Pinglin snorted derisively. He had never harbored deep affection for the Gu family, compounded by the persecution he suffered in his past life—caring was the last thing on his mind. "That is my affair. I will handle it."

"My method is the most efficient," Duan Qingming countered. "If there's a better solution, why not use it?"

"Who asked you to interfere?"

"You wish to be my opponent. I merely aimed to help you focus your efforts. You truly are ungrateful."

"My focus requires no intervention from you."

"What about Bu Shuihan?"

Gu Pinglin paused, momentarily caught off guard, then reiterated firmly. "My affairs do not require outsiders meddling."

"Ah, but the matters of this world… isn't interference from outsiders commonplace?" Duan Qingming drawled lazily. "Isn't the threat of demon beasts in the Misty Wastelands precisely why a group of outsiders like us is needed to resolve it? Who decreed that outsiders cannot interfere? And if an outsider wishes to meddle, who, pray tell, can stop them?"

Having battled this man as a lifelong nemesis, Gu Pinglin realized for the first time that their perspectives existed on fundamentally different planes. Arguing reason with him felt like a chicken debating a duck. Struck by this unexpected insight, a complex light flickered in Gu Pinglin's eyes. His anger, inexplicably, began to ebb away.

Duan Qingming studied him for a long moment, then closed his eyes as if unconcerned. "Very well. As you wish."

"In short, I will not tolerate this happening again." Having regained his composure, Gu Pinglin found little left to say. He turned and left the room.

By that time, the situation in the Misty Wastelands was no longer fresh news. Demonic cultivators from Transmigration Valley had infiltrated the Northwestern Plains, breaching the seal between Duanhun Forest and the Great Barren Wilds. This unleashed a horde of demon beasts upon the land. Swarms of powerful, high-level savage beasts surged into Duanhun Forest, wreaking havoc that spilled over into the surrounding Misty Wastelands. Smaller sects and ordinary inhabitants nearby suffered greatly. Naturally, the Righteous Alliance of the cultivation world could not stand idly by. Moreover, these high-level beasts possessed top-grade demon cores—a significant opportunity for the various sects to acquire valuable resources. After deliberation among the Eight Great Sects and numerous smaller factions, each agreed to dispatch powerful cultivators. Bu Shuihan and Chen Qian were among them. It took the Alliance several arduous months to finally quell this disaster.

Now, the high-level savage beasts in the Misty Wastelands were mostly exterminated. The elite cultivators had entered Duanhun Forest to reinforce the original seal. Only scattered pockets of low-level demonic beasts remained throughout the wasteland, providing perfect fodder for disciples of various sects to hone their skills and gain practical combat experience. Gu Pinglin was currently preparing for just such a mission. In terms of cultivation, he already surpassed the need for Yue Songting's guidance. What he truly required was time to steadily advance his cultivation base and swordsmanship.

One month later, Yue Songting, as expected, instructed Chang Jinxin to lead the disciples on their journey. Mounted on Golden Condors, the group flew directly towards the Misty Wastelands.

The novices, embarking on their first real mission, buzzed with excitement and curiosity, chattering non-stop along the way. Duan Qingming maintained his usual facade of refined grace and approachability, effortlessly engaging anyone in conversation, maintaining his popularity. In contrast, Gu Pinglin was much quieter, rarely joining the banter. He spoke only occasionally, pointing out oversights the others missed, his suggestions always practical. Consequently, Chang Jinxin increasingly came to rely on him.

Traveling exposed to the elements, they journeyed for approximately a month before finally reaching the Misty Wastelands.

Lying at the outer edge of Duanhun Forest, the Misty Wastelands were a desolate expanse of grasslands perpetually cloaked in fog, which gave it its name. Thin, wispy mists coiled lazily above the wilderness, while thick, impenetrable banks of dense fog rolled through it. The air hung heavy with moisture, visibility was poor. Patches of yellow and green grass painted the ground. As the group navigated through the fog, they occasionally passed scattered thickets of low, broken-leaf trees. Eerie cries echoed from within, sounds likely made by wraiths, savage crows, or demonic cats—noises unsettling to the heart.

The novice disciples followed cautiously behind Chang Jinxin. After trekking for a while, a few disciples tentatively dispatched a demonic cat, finding the task surprisingly easy. Emboldened, the group gradually shed their timidity. Occasionally, a disciple's exaggerated reaction to something mundane would provoke laughter, livening up the procession.

As night fell, the group settled down to rest within one of the thickets, lighting several campfires.

The wasteland night was far from silent. The firelight danced, painting the low-hanging mist overhead a glowing red, creating an oddly beautiful scene. The disciples clustered together, talking animatedly. Tomorrow marked the start of their individual trials; nervousness was palpable. Many discussed forming small teams. Gu Pinglin, as Yue Songting's personal disciple and a standout performer in the entrance competition, was admired for his steadiness and absence of arrogance. Though not particularly expressive, he remained approachable, and numerous groups eagerly invited him to join. Gu Pinglin readily accepted one such offer.

While the others conversed, Gu Pinglin walked over to the campfire furthest from the group and sat down. Adding a few branches to the flames, he closed his eyes and began meditating.

It wasn't long before he sensed movement beside him.

Opening his eyes, he wasn't surprised to see Duan Qingming. Since the incident concerning the Gu family, Gu Pinglin had been secluded in intensive cultivation, and they hadn't exchanged a single word.

"Teaming up?" Duan Qingming proposed.

The man was notoriously self-assured and disdained collaboration. His genuine offer to join forces should make any recipient wary. Knowing him well, Gu Pinglin felt a flicker of surprise but declined. "I've already agreed to join Junior Brother Wang's team."

Duan Qingming didn't seem bothered. "Which direction?"

"Northwest," Gu Pinglin replied.

Duan Qingming simply lay back on the ground and said no more.

Casually, Gu Pinglin inquired, "And you? Which way are you heading?"

"Northwest."

"Hm?"

Gu Pinglin frowned.

In his past life, he and the other disciples of the Profound Abyss Sect had headed south. He hadn't anticipated that joining the Spirit Heart Sect in this life would still lead him northward.

"What?" Duan Qingming responded to his reaction. "Can I not go northwest?"

He hadn't missed that split-second shift in expression. Gu Pinglin lowered his gaze slightly, masking his thoughts.

He couldn't go. Because what lurked there was something even a Qi Refining Realm cultivator like Bu Shuihan couldn't handle. In his previous life, a Spirit Heart Sect patrol had encountered disaster in the Northwestern Falling Goose Swamp, losing four disciples. Gu Pinglin remembered their names. This time, he had deliberately chosen the same team roster, intending to lead them safely away from the swamp. Initially, he considered steering them south, but worried other groups might inadvertently stumble into danger elsewhere, he decided it was better to stick to the original route and potentially prevent any mishap.

As for Duan Qingming? No matter how prodigious his talent, confronting that thing was impossible. While Gu Pinglin aimed to defeat him, he didn't wish him to perish needlessly in the Misty Wastelands. Yet, Duan Qingming was inherently restless; if he suspected what was out there, he'd be all the more likely to head straight for it, potentially dragging others into his reckless pursuit.

Therefore, Gu Pinglin answered evenly, without revealing his concerns. "If you wish to follow us, that's perfectly acceptable."

Duan Qingming shifted topics abruptly. "You seem very familiar with my swordsmanship."

Gu Pinglin wasn't surprised.

Duan Qingming habitually used Shadow Reflection Sword Glow to obscure an opponent's vision. Having suffered greatly from this tactic in his past life, Gu Pinglin had become conditioned to it. A subtle tilt of his cheek during the entrance duel—a mere unconscious reflex—had clearly caught Duan Qingming's attention. It was only natural he'd suspect something, as they'd never dueled before.

"Understanding one's opponent is something everyone does," Gu Pinglin stated calmly.

"Is that so?" Duan Qingming's expression was unreadable.

"Of course." Gu Pinglin remained composed, his expression one of detached indifference, inviting Duan Qingming to speculate.

Suddenly, Duan Qingming circled back. "What's in the Northwest?"

The abrupt return to the earlier topic would have caught anyone off guard, potentially causing them to slip. Gu Pinglin merely raised an eyebrow and countered, "What do you think is there?"

"Though the Misty Wastelands underwent a thorough cleansing," Duan Qingming said slowly, "perhaps one or two formidable beasts might have slipped through the net?"

Him deducing this wasn't surprising. Gu Pinglin knew it was merely a probe. He chuckled. "Indeed. If you're not afraid of dying, come see for yourself."

"Are you taunting me?"

"You can interpret it that way if you like."

Duan Qingming turned his head fully towards him, studying him intently for a long moment before releasing a soft laugh.

"What are you laughing at?" Gu Pinglin asked.

"I laugh, Gu Xiaojiu, at how glaringly obvious your attempt at provocation is this time."

"I've always been straightforward."

"You don't want me to go," Duan Qingming sat up, leaning closer until his chin rested on Gu Pinglin's shoulder. "What's really there?"

His breath brushed against Gu Pinglin's ear, stirring the hair at his temple. Gu Pinglin maintained his composure. "What possible reason would I have to stop you?"

"Are you concerned for my safety?"

"Perhaps. After all, we are devoted fellow disciples," Gu Pinglin tilted his head to meet his gaze, a knowing curve playing on his lips. "Or perhaps… I knew exactly that you'd grow suspicious, and I deliberately lured you there. Do you dare? My apologies, it seems my provocation has surfaced yet again."

"Oh?"

Their eyes locked.

Duan Qingming's narrow eyes remained inscrutable pools of darkness, impossible to fathom.

Gu Pinglin's bright, star-like gaze seemed excessively open, making the truth of his emotions impossible to discern.

After a lengthy pause, Duan Qingming lifted his chin slightly, a faint smile lingering, and remained silent.

Gu Pinglin couldn't quite pin down his thoughts, but knew pressing the issue further would be counterproductive. As he prepared to change the subject, his gaze lifted and spotted flames flickering through the dense fog in the distance. The firelight steadily drew nearer, accompanied by faint voices.

"Someone's over there!" a voice called out.

The Spirit Heart disciples all rose almost simultaneously, looking towards Chang Jinxin for guidance.

Chang Jinxin, who had sensed the approach earlier, cupped his hands respectfully in the direction of the newcomers. "Pray, friends of which esteemed sect approach?"

"Little Chang!" A woman's voice rang out, filled with pleasant surprise. "Is that you?"

"So it's Senior Sister Yan," Chang Jinxin sighed in relief, turning to explain to the disciples. "Friends from the Profound Abyss Sect."

Upon hearing it was the Profound Abyss Sect, the Spirit Heart disciples instantly lost interest. They snorted derisively and resumed their conversations as they sat back down—their ill feelings towards their sect rivals were strong, and they felt no inclination to engage.

In stark contrast, Gu Pinglin couldn't help but press his lips together. He rose to his feet, his gaze fixed intently on the approaching group emerging from the dense mist.