CHAPTER 26: FORMATION

Morning sunlight slowly spilled through the wooden windows of Wei Ji’s chamber.

The air was thick with faint traces of spiritual energy, swirling like mist around his seated figure. His breathing was steady, his body still as stone.

Then, his eyes opened—sharp, clear, and calm. A soft hum came from within him as the spiritual flow in his body stabilized.

A faint smile tugged at his lips. "Fourth stage... Body and Qi Infusion," he whispered to himself.

The light in his eyes dimmed slightly, and the oppressive aura around him faded like smoke. He stood up, stretched his shoulders, and stepped outside. His movements were unhurried, but there was purpose in every step.

The courtyard was quiet.

Dew still clung to the flowers.

Servants bowed as he passed, though their faces were tense—everyone in the Han Family had sensed the strange tremors and spiritual surges that occurred the previous night.

Wei Ji ignored them. His mind was already set on one place—the Vermilion Savannah Chamber.

When he reached it, he found her. Lu Shaohua sat by the low table, her long hair unbound, her expression calm but distant.

Around her were the same five people from last night—the assassins from the Shen Flame Kingdom.

They froze the moment Wei Ji appeared at the doorway. For a moment, no one dared to speak. The air between them was heavy with unease.

The five exchanged glances. One of them—a woman with a scar on her cheek—stood first. "We will take our leave, Princess," she said softly, bowing slightly before walking past Wei Ji. The others followed, each offering a small farewell gesture. They avoided Wei Ji’s eyes like frightened birds.

Wei Ji only said one thing as they passed. "I don’t care what business you have with the Shen Flame Kingdom," he said coldly. "You can continue whatever secret talk you were having. But if my wife is harmed... or if anyone even thinks of harming her... I won’t care who you serve."

His words were calm, but the tone behind them carried the kind of weight that made the assassins walk faster.

When the last one left, silence filled the chamber. Lu Shaohua’s cheeks were faintly pink. Her fingers trembled slightly as she tried to pour tea, spilling a few drops.

Wei Ji sighed. "Don’t misunderstand," he said, seeing her blush deepen. "I just don’t want trouble in my home."

"I-I know," she stammered, trying to compose herself.

He studied her quietly. There was no trace of the violent demonic energy that had flickered last night. That alone made him relax. Still, something felt off.

He leaned forward slightly. "Tell me something," he said. "Those five... they don’t seem loyal to you. So why were you so desperate to protect them yesterday?"

Lu Shaohua froze, her eyes darting away. "I-I..." she began, but her words caught in her throat.

Wei Ji waited patiently, his gaze steady.

"It’s... complicated," she finally said, her voice faint.

"Complicated?" he repeated. "Are they important to you?"

She didn’t answer.

Wei Ji tilted his head. "No reaction. So they’re not. Then what is it? Why protect people who clearly don’t respect you? Are they forcing you?"

Her eyes widened. "How did you—"

He didn’t respond. He simply looked at her, calm but piercing. It made her feel naked, as if he could see straight into her thoughts.

She hesitated. There were secrets she couldn’t reveal—not to him, not yet. The five weren’t her allies. But she can’t tell him. She mustn’t tell him.

Wei Ji spoke again, his tone low. "I don’t know what they’re after, and I don’t care. But if it concerns your safety, I’ll kill them all."

Lu Shaohua’s eyes widened in disbelief. "W-Wei Ji..."

He continued, his gaze firm. "Even the one behind them. No matter who they are. I’ll kill them all."

Her lips parted, but no sound came out. The calm way he said it made her heart tremble. There was no boast, no arrogance—just extreme confidence.

He turned his back to her, his robe brushing against the wooden floor as he left.

She sat there, frozen, her thoughts spinning. Did he really mean that? Why would he...?

Her heart beat faster. She had faced countless threats, but none had ever made her chest tighten like this one man’s words.

Moments later, the five assassins returned. Their faces were grim. They didn’t mention Wei Ji. They had all felt his power last night. It wasn’t normal—his control, his calmness, the sheer force of will behind his every move.

"Princess," one of the women said softly, "the Seven Holy Lotus still cannot be found."

Lu Shaohua frowned. "You’ve been searching for weeks."

"We’ve checked the southern swamps, the Burning River Valley, and even the old ruins. Nothing. Not a trace."

Lu Shaohua sighed, rubbing her temple. "Then stop rushing. If the Lotus was easy to find, it wouldn’t be called holy. It hides for a reason."

"But Princess," another spoke up, "without it, your Celestial Heart—"

"I know," she interrupted softly. "But forcing fate only makes things worse. We’ll search again when the sun sets."

The assassins exchanged worried looks but nodded. None dared to argue.

Lu Shaohua looked out the window. Wei Ji... she thought. Why do you make me feel this way?

...

Meanwhile, Wei Ji stood at the western side of the Han Family estate. The morning light shimmered across the tiled roofs, and a faint wind stirred his robes. His eyes moved across the courtyard, calculating distances and energy flows.

He crouched and pressed his palm to the ground. Instantly, a pulse of green light spread from his hand, and small sprouts began to push through the soil. Vines crawled along the walls, weaving themselves into complex patterns. The earth trembled softly.

At the northern edge, thin bamboo shoots sprang up, forming a natural barrier. To the east, moss spread like ink on paper, covering the stone paths in faintly glowing green. To the south, roots burrowed deep beneath the ground, connecting everything like a web.

Wei Ji made a few more hand seals. His movements were swift, practiced, and elegant. Spiritual light flickered between his fingers, shifting from jade-green to pale gold.

Then—whoosh!—the air rippled. A faint green mist rose from the earth, forming a dome above the entire western wing of the Han Family. The dome pulsed faintly, like a living heart.

Inside the Vermilion Savannah Chamber, the floor vibrated. The five assassins stood up in alarm. "What’s happening?" one shouted.

"An attack?" another hissed, hand on her dagger.

Lu Shaohua frowned, her spiritual sense spreading outward. "No... it’s not hostile energy."

Outside, the guards were in chaos. "What’s going on?!" a young soldier yelled, gripping his spear as green light reflected in his eyes. "Is it an enemy ambush?"

"Stay calm! Protect the west wing!" shouted another.

Servants hid behind pillars. The ground was still trembling.

Back at the center of it all, Wei Ji slowly lowered his hand. Sweat slid down his temple, but his expression was calm. The glowing light settled into the earth, leaving behind faint traces of power that hummed quietly.

"Finally," he muttered. "The formation is done."

He exhaled, glancing up at the sky. His senses stretched outward—and for a moment, he felt something. Several distant spiritual auras, faint but moving fast. Cultivators.

He narrowed his eyes. "Hm? Cultivators?"

He paused, then dismissed the thought with a small shake of his head. "Doesn’t matter."

He turned away and began walking back toward the courtyard. Behind him, the green dome pulsed once more—then vanished from sight, leaving behind only a faint whisper in the wind.