While Jingxuan recovers his energy, Wenrui, Xia He, and the others stand outside the area surrounding Jingxuan and the princess's tents.

Lu Xueyao glances at Li Na, her tone cold. "Li Na, find them a place to stay."

Li Na bows slightly.

Gu Yan crosses his arms. "Li Na, are you staying alone or with the princess?"

His eyes flick toward the two tents—one large, one medium—standing apart from the rest of the camp behind a barricade.

Li Na answers, "The princess and I are staying in the same tent," her gaze shifting toward the large one.

Gu Yan studies the medium tent. "If we expand this one, we could stay here with you."

Li Na's expression tightens. "It's inappropriate for you all to stay so close to the princess."

Wang Ji mutters, "Didn't we stay together during the journey?"

Li Na sighs. "At that time, there were no outsiders, and we didn't have the means to keep our distance."

Gu Yan frowns, noticing a faint silhouette inside the medium tent. "Then who's in there?"

Li Na hesitates, her eyes darting toward Wenrui.

Lu Xueyao notices. Her lips curl slightly as she senses a perfect chance to sever any lingering ties.

After seeing Jingxuan's overwhelming strength, her marriage to him is already decided. Her brother will push it forward—for power, for alliance, for glory.

She meets Wenrui's eyes. "Jingxuan is inside," she says, each word sharp and deliberate.

Wenrui's team stiffens. Gu Yan snaps, "Why can he stay here and we can't?"

Li Niyue turns her gaze to him, her voice steady but laced with pride. "Because he'll be my husband in the future, that's why."

The air turns heavy. Wenrui's jaw clenches, a faint tremor in his hands betraying the calm on his face.

Li Niyue looks away, dismissing him as though he were a stranger. "Li Na, take them elsewhere."

Before anyone can speak, a voice echoes from the gate separating this area from the rest of the camp. "Cousin Wenrui, you're really here!"

Wenrui turns. Zhang Wenyu walks toward them with a grin. Wenrui nods faintly. "Cousin." Then he looks at Li Niyue, his tone cool. "We'll arrange our own place. You don't need to bother."

Li Niyue pauses, her expression unreadable. "Good." Without another word, she enters the large tent.

Li Na hesitates, glancing between Wenrui's group and the departing princess. She lowers her head, then quietly follows Li Niyue inside.

Inside the tent, Li Niyue sits on the edge of her bed, staring blankly ahead. The firelight flickers across her face, reflecting the turmoil in her eyes.

Li Na steps closer, her voice soft. "Princess, why did you do that? You knew it would hurt you, too."

Li Niyue exhales slowly, her voice trembling yet firm. "If we get tangled any further, the pain will be worse when we sever it. Better to cut it now while the wound is still shallow."

Silence lingers until a shout breaks it. "Princess!"

They both step out of the tent and see an official waiting outside the barricade.

The man bows. "Your Highness, the deputy minister requests your audience."

Li Niyue's expression hardens. "Take me to him."

They follow the official through the camp until they reach a large tent where several officials are gathered. Inside, Xu Shiyi, the deputy minister, sits calmly at a low table.

He gestures politely. "Please, Your Highness, join me for tea."

Li Niyue sits and takes the cup he offers. After two slow sips, she sets it down and says, "Deputy Minister, tell me—why have you called for me?"

Xu Shiyi smiles faintly. "Can't an old man simply share tea with Your Highness?"

Li Niyue's eyes narrow. She places the cup back on the table with a quiet clink. "Then I've finished my tea. I should take my leave."

She rises to her feet, but Xu Shiyi's expression hardens, and he stops her with, "Wait, Princess — there is something important I must discuss," and she sits back down, eyes fixed on him.

Xu Shiyi exhales, the sound small but weighted: "Princess, I need your help to keep control of the camp."

Li Niyue's jaw tightens as she replies, "Minister, majesty has entrusted you with the attack — who would dare disobey your orders?"

Xu Shiyi's gaze does not waver: "Obeying in word and executing in deed are two different things."

"The sooner the rebellion is crushed, the better for both factions," the princess says coolly, "they gain nothing by prolonging this."

Xu Shiyi studies her, suspicion flickering behind his calm gaze.

He wonders if she hides some deeper motive, but restrains the question—time and the campaign will reveal enough.

Instead, he leans forward, voice low and deliberate. "Then grant me your support to inflame the conflict between the Ji and their allies, and the Ju and theirs."

Li Niyue's eyes widen. "Don't do any such thing. Fulfil your duty, Minister, or I'll ask my brother to replace you."

Xu Shiyi blinks, caught off guard. To him, conflict between two great noble houses should only strengthen the royal family's position. "Why, Princess? Is it because Jingxuan's side would clash with the Zhang family boy?"

Li Niyue's expression turns cold as she stands. "Minister, you've gone too far."

Realising his mistake, Xu Shiyi immediately bows. "Forgive me, Princess. I was out of line."

Li Niyue exhales, steadying her breath before speaking.

The minister straightens and asks cautiously, "But may I know why Your Highness won't support something that could benefit the royal family?"

Li Niyue's tone softens, though her eyes remain sharp. "Minister Xu, you're from a civilian background, aren't you?"

Xu Shiyi blinks in surprise. "Yes… But what does that have to do with it?"

"Because," she says quietly, turning toward the exit, "if you were a noble, you wouldn't need to ask."

Without waiting for his response, Li Niyue leaves the tent, her steps calm but heavy.

Wenrui's group, meanwhile, follows Wenyu to another part of the camp. There, they're assigned four small tents—one for every two people.

After setting up their tents, they gather outside around a cooking pot, sitting in a loose circle with Wenyu as the fire crackles softly between them.

While the group talks, Wenrui closes his eyes. Inside his spirit space, he looks up toward the giant throne where Kratos sits, towering and silent.

Wenrui bows slightly. "Sir, why have you called me?"

Kratos's gaze burns through the mist. "Boy, I have advice for you."

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Wenrui frowns. "What is it?"

Kratos leans forward, his voice deep and heavy. "It's best you forget the princess. If you anger her future husband, I won't be able to save you."

Wenrui's thoughts fall silent. For the first time, he senses fear in Kratos's tone—something he never thought possible from a god.

He asks quietly, "Why?"

Kratos's face darkens. "No 'why.'" He waves his hand, and Wenrui is instantly thrown out of the spirit space.

Before drifting back into slumber, Kratos murmurs to himself, "I thought finding one blessed by heaven and earth was my fortune, but now it seems I've walked into a tribulation."

He fears not for himself, but for his recovery, which depends on Wenrui. If Wenrui keeps pursuing the princess, he will inevitably collide with Jingxuan—a being Kratos now realises is not merely human, but another god, one stronger than himself.

Kratos mutters into the fading void, "I can't face this alone. That fox who freed me must act. The sooner that girl marries Jingxuan, the safer we all are." His form fades into darkness.

Wenrui, ejected from the spirit space, doesn't feel indignant—it happens often since Kratos made his home there—but Kratos's warning lingers in his mind.

Jingxuan's power frightens him, yet it also ignites his fighting spirit.

And until he confirms the princess isn't Ming Yi's reincarnation, he cannot let go.

He opens his eyes abruptly, startling the group. "I'm going to train," he says.

Before anyone can respond, he stands and walks into the night.

As the sun sets, Jingxuan steps out of the meeting tent.

During the meeting, Xu Shiyi had brought up the Lei Family, but no one seemed to know anything—or perhaps no one wanted to speak.

In truth, it no longer mattered why the Lei Family was destroyed two hundred years ago.

What mattered now was that their remnants had rebelled and become an obstacle to the council's plan.

As Jingxuan walks toward his tent, passing through the barricade, he hears a familiar voice behind him.

"Jingxuan, wait."

He stops in front of his tent and turns.

The princess stands before him, her fragrance drifting through the air and into his lungs.

It stirs something deep within him—lust rising like fire under his skin. He takes a slow breath and closes his eyes to suppress it.

Jingxuan is Lin Ye's lust clone. The princess is his destined target, the one who awakens his desire.

After waking from his coma long ago, he had fled the capital for the Grey Desert Province, choosing exile over losing himself to that lust.

At that time, he had only regained his memory and was as weak as an ordinary man.

Now, with nearly a quarter of his strength restored, he can finally control the urges burning within him.

Xueyao notices the change in his gaze—the raw, animal hunger flashing in his eyes before he closes them.

When he opens them again, that hunger is gone. His eyes are calm, cold, devoid of emotion.

Jingxuan's voice is steady as he asks, "What do you want?"

Xueyao notices the change but assumes that, as a warlock, he must remain calm or the strange cores in his spirit space will riot, so she ignores his emotionless eyes.

"Let's go inside my tent," she says.

They enter her tent and sit across from each other at the low table.

Jingxuan asks, "What do you want to talk about?"

"I want to talk about the council's plan," Xueyao answers.

Jingxuan already knows the council intends to fully incorporate Thunderstorm Mountain into the divine domain and purge the weirds within so that, ten years from now, when the thousand-year tribulation arrives, there will be one less threat.

"The army gathered may not be enough to clear all the weirds inside Thunderstorm Mountain," Jingxuan warns.

Xueyao nods.

"Brother is aware of that," she says, "so when we enter the depths in the name of quelling the rebellion, we will embed divine posts inside the mountains for the divine army to reach in and take everyone by surprise."

Jingxuan frowns, thinking how he still needs the dynasty and that ten years is not enough time to cultivate to the demigod realm by a new method, so the Zhou Empire must survive the thousand-year tribulation for him to practice in peace.

"All right," he says, "send me the divine posts and I will put them in position."

Xueyao shakes her head. "Not we. Every move we make will be under the enemy's gaze. And don't you think it's strange—the Lei family vanishing from history only to suddenly reappear and rebel? That can't be a coincidence."

Jingxuan thinks for a moment and admits inwardly that she's right. He can't monitor all the posts himself without drawing attention.

"Then who do you have in mind?" he asks.

Xueyao glances at him cautiously before speaking. "Zhang Wenrui."

Jingxuan shows no reaction. He knows of her feelings for Wenrui but doesn't care. She will be his, and with time, she'll forget that name completely.

He stands, his tone calm and composed. "Fine. Tell me when you'll hand the posts to him. I'll follow behind so no one knows what we're doing."

"Tomorrow at dawn," she replies, "near the Spark Waterfall."

He nods once and leaves the tent.

Moments later, Li Na enters.

The princess says quietly, "Find a chance to tell Wenrui alone that I want to meet him tomorrow at dawn at Spark Waterfall."

Li Na bows and leaves, her steps quick and silent.

Left alone, Xueyao sits still, her mind restless. She keeps thinking about the subtle changes in Jingxuan—the way his calm feels unnatural, as if something dangerous hides beneath it.

Inside his tent, Jingxuan takes out a core pulsing with wind-attribute energy. It's the result of his hunt in the Thunderstorm Mountains.

Yesterday, when he entered the mountains at night, a wind spirit attacked him. After he destroyed its body, it luckily left behind a core of mid-level and special grade.

Because of that battle, he accidentally broke the web barrier the thunder spiders had cast around the mountains, which drew their fury.

Soon after, a mid-level, special-grade thunder spider appeared with thousands of subordinates. Later, even the Lei family sent a Dark Sun Realm warlock to deal with him.

He managed to defeat the warlock only because the man had reached that realm through trickery, not the orthodox method.

Jingxuan stops thinking about it and begins absorbing the wind-attribute weird core. The energy surges through his channels and floods into his spirit space, where it gathers around the third moon spirit.

The strange energy spins and condenses, forming a new, weird core within his spirit space.

He had originally planned for the third moon spirit to refine a water-attribute core, but the grade and level of this wind core are far higher.

Strength must come first.

The third moon spirit will refine the wind-attribute core now, and when it finds a stronger water-attribute one, the first moon spirit will release its metal core and refine the water core instead.

As the process deepens, his mind sinks into a strange illusion, the usual effect of refining weird energy.

The illusion breaks quickly under his will.

Power floods his body.

He opens his eyes and feels the new abilities granted by the wind-attribute core—Wind Control, Silent Footstep, and Phantom Kill.

He pays little heed to the names of the abilities and focuses instead on the mysteries from which they spring, knowing that comprehending those mysteries will let him master these skills and invent more.

He sinks into deep comprehension, mapping the law of wind through every channel and spirit.

Far from the tent, Ju Funan sits before a lacquered mirror, bites his finger, and lets his blood drip into a carved channel so that weird energy can carry it into the glass.

When the mirror's three gemstones flare, his consciousness is pulled inside.

He finds himself standing before three figures seated on bone thrones shrouded in darkness and kneels to salute, "Elder," remaining bowed.

The elder on the right asks, "Ju Funan, why did you request this meeting?"

Ju Funan answers, "Elders, Jingxuan may know how I reached the Dark Sun Realm."

Silence hangs, and the left elder asks, "Are you certain?"

Ju Funan explains how Jingxuan claimed the Lei family's Dark Sun–realm warlock entered that realm by trickery, and he concludes, "Jingxuan must die in the Thunderstorm Mountains."

The centre elder asks whether only Jingxuan knows this or if others might, and the left elder orders, "Before killing him, search his memory."

The centre elder commands, "Send the Dark River to probe Jingxuan's memories," and the left elder adds, "Ju Funan, you must ensure the first expedition fails to crush the rebellion."

Ju Funan bows and replies, "Yes, elder," as his consciousness is released, and before the darkness fades, the right elder remarks, "The Li family can sit the dragon throne—so can we," prompting Ju Funan, back in the waking world, to begin plotting how to sabotage the expedition while avoiding blame.

Today is the day of the meeting—the day when those who possess the Heart Mirror gather to share news and discuss the empire's affairs.

Zhang Wenrui lies on his bed, the cold surface of the mirror pressing lightly against his chest through the folds of his robe. He closes his eyes, and his spirit slips into the mirror's boundless void.

When his vision clears, he sits upon the seventh throne. Only the third, fifth, eleventh, and twelfth thrones remain empty; the rest are occupied by silent figures wreathed in faint light.

Number One's calm but commanding voice echoes, "Everyone is here. Let's begin. Today's topic is the Lei family rebellion. Does anyone know anything about it?"

Number Four leans forward, voice sharp. "The capital is buzzing with conspiracies because of this. Does anyone know who caused the Lei family's destruction?"

As the discussion unfolds, Wenrui listens quietly, piecing together the truth. Each member seems destined for the Thunderstorm Mountains in the coming days. He realises this expedition is no mere campaign—it is the brewing of a storm that could shake the empire itself.

Number Four turns his attention to him. "Number Seven, are you not coming to the Thunderstorm Mountains?"

Number Seven—Wenrui—replies evenly, "I am already here with the expedition force."

Dozens of gazes fall upon him. Within the Heart Mirror, their consciousnesses exist as white, featureless dolls—faceless, yet still heavy with intent.

Number One says, "The army should have arrived today. So, they haven't entered the mountains yet."

Wenrui nods. "Yes. But this morning, Jingxuan defeated a Dark Sun Realm warlock."

A ripple moves through the gathered figures. Number Six leans forward, excitement leaking into his tone. "Jingxuan is there? Then I should hasten my arrival."

Number Eight speaks next, his voice like silk. "Can you show us the battle?"

"Alright," Wenrui answers.

He closes his eyes again, and light ripples through the mirror. A vision unfolds—the clash between Jingxuan and the Dark Sun warlock.

The violent winds, the shattered thunder webs, the flash of lightning as the enemy dissolves into sparks. Wenrui shows only what he must, erasing anything that could expose his identity.

When the battle ends and the fleeing warlock dissolves into lightning, silence settles over the hall of thrones.

Wenrui feels the weight of exhaustion pressing on his spirit. The meeting fades, and his consciousness pulls free from the Heart Mirror.

He opens his eyes to the dim glow of his tent, breath uneven. Entering the mirror always drains him, but showing his memory nearly empties his spirit altogether.

A dull ache builds behind his temples. He leans back against the pillow, deciding rest is the only cure.

At dawn, he's supposed to meet Li Niyue. The thought stirs confusion and a faint unease.

After how she acted that morning, he didn't expect her to reach out again—especially with Jingxuan by her side. Yet she asked to meet him, and alone, near the Spark Waterfall.

He wonders if she intends to speak of her feelings—or to end whatever fragile bond still lingers between them.

That thought follows him as his eyes grow heavy, and he drifts into sleep beneath the faint whisper of the night wind.