Chapter 86

They set out early the next morning, expecting someone from the Sha Yin Gate to question their departure. Yet no one came—not even after they had been gone for an hour. By then, they were already ascending the mountain, the very one the Sha Yin Sect leader had mentioned might conceal the Di Mang.

As they climbed, overgrown grass brushed their legs, and the occasional cry of crows pierced the silence. The higher they went, the stronger the gusts of cold wind became, biting into their skin.

"Listen," Su Ran suddenly stopped, turning to Ji Chun. "Do you hear that? Voices in the distance."

Ji Chun focused, catching the faint sound of movement. In the distance, shadowy figures trudged upward—too far to identify, but undoubtedly others drawn by the same purpose.

"Other sects must have come for Di Mang as well," Ji Chun murmured.

Su Ran scoffed but said nothing. The two pressed onward.

The sky darkened unnaturally as they climbed, the air thickening with an eerie chill. Su Ran shivered, his breath misting in the cold. Noticing this, Ji Chun removed his outer robe and draped it over Su Ran's shoulders.

"You... keep it. I'm fine," Su Ran protested, though his trembling betrayed him.

Ji Chun chuckled. "No need for courtesy. Shaolin's pure yang skill shields me from the cold. Wear it, or you'll fall ill." Before Su Ran could argue, Ji Chun pulled him close, securing the robe around him. Then, he took Su Ran's icy hands between his own, warming them with his palms.

Reluctantly, Su Ran relented, gripping Ji Chun's hand tightly as they continued.

Suddenly—a deafening roar split the air.

Su Ran stiffened. "What was that?"

Ji Chun's grip tightened. "Let's find out."

They quickened their pace toward the source of the sound. Halfway up, the metallic stench of blood filled their nostrils, followed by distant screams. Exchanging a glance, they moved cautiously, parting the dense undergrowth to peer ahead.

What they saw froze their blood.

A monstrous blood dragon, towering five men high, thrashed in a crimson pool. Its maw dripped gore as it tore into two men, their bodies already half-submerged in the bloody water. Bones crunched as the beast devoured them whole, its tail whipping the pool into a frothing frenzy.

Su Ran's breath hitched. Cold sweat slicked his skin—fear, sharp and unfamiliar, coiled in his chest. If they were spotted, they'd meet the same fate.

Ji Chun tugged his hand, eyes urgent: We need to leave.

Su Ran nodded. Step by silent step, they retreated, descending the mountain with hearts hammering. Only when they reached the Sha Yin Gate did they finally exhale, their clasped hands damp with sweat.

Night had fallen. As they made their way back to the courtyard, they spotted Ouyang Yixun and the sect leader approaching.

Ji Chun suppressed his surprise at Ouyang Yixun's presence—after all, the man had a habit of appearing where least expected, just as he had with the Liang Yi Sect.

"Ji Chun Dashi, Su Gongzi," Ouyang Yixun greeted with a dimpled smile. "Dinner is ready. Will you join us?"

Ji Chun responded evenly, "We were just surveying the area. Since the meal is prepared, we'll accompany you."

The sect leader smiled. "You've had a long journey. I've had the kitchen prepare dragon heart porridge—a specialty. I hope you enjoy it." With that, he turned, his tall silhouette oddly familiar under the moonlight.

Ouyang Yixun's grin faltered briefly, his eyes dimming. "Shall we?" he murmured.

At the banquet, Ouyang Yixun sat beside the leader, their whispered exchanges ignoring the others entirely. Even Ye Bangzhu ate in silence, unperturbed.

Ji Chun studied the sect leader, unease prickling his spine. Something was off, but he couldn't place it. He lowered his head, sipping his soup in silence as fragments of recent events churned in his mind.

Then, hushed words from a nearby table reached his ears:

"To think—the former leader's son, acting so shamelessly."

"With a face like that, who's to say Old Man Ye hasn't already had his fill?"

"This Shang Sect Master is far more striking than that old man Ye. Given the choice, anyone would pick him first. Yet despite Ye's nominal leadership, the Sha Yin Sect holds all the real power behind the scenes."

"Men with men—how shameless! That Tianyin Sect brat has some nerve, flirting with the Shaolin master's companion right under our noses. He ought to remember his place!"

"True. The sect leader may seem gentle, but his methods are ruthless. Just look at how the Sha Yin Sect's servants behave—he's no ordinary man content with mediocrity. We'd best tread carefully. If things turn sour, we should flee while we still can."

Su Ran overheard the whispers. His gaze flicked to the head table, where the sect leader coldly brushed aside Ouyang Yixun's attempt to serve him food. Ouyang Yixun's face darkened, though he masked it with a strained smile.

"Ji Chun, look," Su Ran nudged his companion, nodding toward Shang Luo and Ouyang Yixun.

Ji Chun observed the scene. Ouyang Yixun's smile was too deliberate, and the sect leader's icy stare carried something unsettling.

"Do you think…?" Su Ran murmured.

Ji Chun's eyes narrowed. "They've met before."

Su Ran nodded. Ouyang Yixun had shadowed the Liangyi Sect since Jeju, while the Sha Yin Sect leader had only emerged recently. If their connection ran deeper, why had no one in the martial world known?

Yet how could a minor western sect and a prominent Central Plains family be linked—unless it involved Di Mang?

Lost in thought, they ate in silence until the sect leader's voice cut through the murmurs.

"Su Gongzi, a word?"

The man's eyes burned with barely restrained fervor, his handsome features sharp under the moonlight. A smirk played on his lips—polite yet dripping with arrogance. In some ways, he reminded Su Ran of himself.

Su Ran had intended to probe the man's origins anyway. But before he could respond, a plate shattered at the sect leader's feet, food splattering his boots. The projectile had been aimed squarely at him.

The leader's smile vanished, his face freezing into a mask of fury. Palm tinged with gathered qi, he hesitated—then forced his hand down, though his expression remained murderous.

All eyes swiveled to the culprit: Ouyang Yixun.

The young man's usual amiability had evaporated. Rage radiated from him, his aura clashing violently with the sect leader's. For the first time, the ever-polite Ouyang Yixun had shed his composure.

"Get out." The sect leader's voice was a blade of ice, his gaze promising dismemberment.

Ouyang Yixun didn't flinch. Hatred flared in his eyes as he flicked a hand—the stool beside him levitated, then hurtled toward the leader. It exploded against the ground, missing its mark. The sect leader hadn't even moved, as if daring Ouyang Yixun to strike true.

"Get. Lost." The repetition was a death knell.

Ouyang Yixun paled. Tears spilled from eyes that had always laughed, his body rigid with anguish. Slowly, he turned, footsteps leaden. Even Su Ran, rarely moved by sentiment, felt a pang at the sight.

The young man paused, as if waiting—for what, no one knew—then vanished into the shadows.

Silence choked the hall. Ji Chun and Su Ran exchanged glances, mere spectators to the unraveling.

The sect leader didn't pursue. Instead, he plastered on a transparent smile. "Do continue, everyone. I'll retire early." With that, he strode toward his quarters—not after Ouyang Yixun.