"Chief Archivist Qin? Please, have a seat."

Under Yan Shuiyue’s wide, almost bulging eyes, Qin Wanru stepped in slowly, her graceful steps light as a breeze. The moment she entered, Li Xun couldn’t help but look up.

Not long after her battle with Net Throat Demon, she had changed clothes. Now she wore a floor-length gown in soft butter yellow, making her skin look even more delicate and smooth, almost as if it could break at a touch.

A faint phoenix pattern traced her neckline, and she wore a sheer outer robe embroidered with tiny pearls. A white jade pendant hung from tasseled cords at her waist, adding to her graceful presence.

Both Li Xun and Yan Shuiyue watched her silently as she entered. She responded with nothing more than a calm smile. When Li Xun gestured for her to sit, she did so; though the way she sat couldn’t have been more different from Yan Shuiyue.

Yan Shuiyue sat cross-legged, a posture most cultivators found both familiar and comfortable.

Qin Wanru, on the other hand, knelt. Her movement was fluid and elegant, her body like a willow swaying in the wind. As her gown flowed around her, she settled into the kneeling position with such poise and lightness that even Yan Shuiyue couldn’t look away.

She had been completely at ease a moment ago, but now her body had gone a little stiff. She even shifted awkwardly without realizing it. Clearly, she’d been disarmed by Qin Wanru's graceful beauty and felt a touch of self-consciousness.

Li Xun noticed all of it, clear as day, but said nothing. Instead, he casually removed his mask, revealing his handsome face marred by burn scars. Turning to Qin Wanru, he smiled. “How’s your injury, Miss Qin? Any better?”

“Much better, thank you.”

Qin Wanru smiled faintly. The light scar that had been on her face was completely gone.

Whenever she was around others, she always seemed so gentle, so delicate, with none of the usual air of a strong cultivator. To Li Xun, who knew what she was really like, that contrast was oddly fascinating.

For a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. So he just followed her lead and kept the conversation going. “Why didn’t you go to the Radiant Pool Hall, Miss Qin? What brings you here instead?”

“What’s the point of seeing Gu Yin?” she replied. “Our sect’s not like the righteous ones, always putting reason above everything else. When there’s bad blood involved, a meeting usually ends in a life-or-death fight. If I went, wouldn’t I just be creating trouble for you all?”

For a second, her tone carried the weight of someone important. Someone used to power. But just as quickly, her voice softened into a warm, teasing lilt. “Besides, I don’t care much for crowds. It’s nice and quiet here with you, and there’s someone to chat with. Not so lonely, don’t you think?”

Her smile was gentle and bright, and the way her expression shifted carried a kind of effortless charm. She was soft, graceful, and well-mannered; never overdoing it or playing coy.

Li Xun managed to stay composed, but Yan Shuiyue was clearly falling fast.

Qin Wanru’s beauty, after all, worked on men and women alike.

Li Xun shot a quick glance at Yan Shuiyue, and couldn’t help but chuckle silently.

After a brief pause, half amused and half exasperated, he called out, “Junior Sister Yan, I’ve already taken off my mask. Don’t you think it’s time to let me see, too?”

Yan Shuiyue snapped out of it like waking from a dream, forcing an awkward smile. Only now did she remember to greet Qin Wanru. The playful, confident girl from earlier had vanished completely. Luckily, she hadn’t forgotten her technique.

She took a few deep breaths to steady herself, then drew a circle in the air with her hand. Her true breath pulsed through the air, and with a soft ripple, a strange wave pattern shimmered into view. Under the glow of the sky light, it turned into a surface of glistening water.

Within it, human figures began to take shape, and voices slowly carried through.

The water mirror was truly remarkable. No matter the angle, the image always faced you directly. Li Xun couldn’t help but praise it. “What a technique; this is a hundred times better than Sound-Penetrating Sand!”

Lu Xun had meant nothing by that comment, but Qin Wanru clearly picked up on it. She shot a quick glance their way, though her expression remained unchanged.

“That’s not true at all!”

Something really was off with Yan Shuiyue. For once, she actually responded a bit modestly. “A mirror like this doesn’t fool anyone. Look, at least half the people in the hall must have sensed something. They just ignored it because they knew I meant no harm.”

“I figured as much…”

Hearing her explanation, Li Xun looked closer and saw that quite a few people in the mirror were indeed glancing in their direction. Clearly, they’d noticed. That was enough to make him give up any thoughts of secretly learning this technique.

He started guiding Yan Shuiyue to adjust the mirror’s angle. Finally, just as an unfamiliar yet striking silhouette appeared in the water’s surface, he stopped her cold.

“Gu Yin?”

He couldn’t be sure at first. He turned to look. And saw Qin Wanru giving him a slight smile and a confirming nod.

“That’s the 'Seven Kill Strings,' Gu Yin?”

As Li Xun studied the woman in the mirror, she suddenly began to speak. And the sound of her voice made his heart skip a beat.

Was she talking, or was she singing?

“…It has nothing to do with us. Our sect neither wishes nor needs to associate with such a beast.”

Li Xun understood right away. She was talking about Net Throat Demon.

Gu Yin denying any connection to Net Throat Demon didn’t surprise Li Xun. He had expected that much. But hearing her say it in person still caught him off guard.

Without a doubt, Gu Yin had the most captivating voice of any female cultivator Li Xun had ever encountered. And she knew exactly how to use it.

Even the most ordinary words, when spoken by her, came out with a rhythm and cadence that were nothing short of flawless. The subtlest pause, the tiniest inflection, seemed to carry layers of meaning.

From just that one sentence, Li Xun could hear coldness, disdain, and mockery; buried beneath a calm and composed tone that gave nothing away on the surface. It was stifling to listen to, yet impossible to call her out on.

What a terrifying woman.

According to the customs of the Tongxuan Realm, when sect leaders meet, the host and guest are considered equals. So at the top of the Radiant Pool Hall, the central seats were occupied by Gu Yin and the four other leaders of the righteous sects.

Everyone else was seated along either side of the hall. It looked like a formal reception, but the tension was thick enough to cut with a blade.

Of the figures seated up front, Li Xun was well acquainted with Qingming and had exchanged greetings with Ling Fengzi a few days prior. But there was one man, Li Douliang, he had only seen from afar and never had a chance to study up close.

Now, watching through the water mirror, he could see him more clearly: a man with sharp, rugged features and eyes that glowed with inner light. He wore a robe of deep violet; simple in design but made of fine material. Though the robe was loose, the contours of solid muscle still pressed through here and there.

His hair was tied up in a rough knot, not particularly neat. Stubble covered his chin. He sat cross-legged, posture casual, even a bit unrefined; but somehow it didn’t come off as sloppy. It felt bold, unrestrained, utterly charismatic.

He’d reached the rank of Grandmaster over three hundred years ago and had long since become a figure of near-legend within the righteous sects. He was respected as one of their greatest icons.

Compared to Qingming’s calm elegance, Li Douliang had an entirely different kind of presence.

And seated between those two men, Gu Yin’s poise didn’t pale in the slightest.

But unlike either of them, the way she held herself, her posture, her bearing, was so flawlessly refined that not even the most fastidious court etiquette officer could have found fault with it. Every gesture followed the rules so precisely, it almost felt like the rules themselves had been designed for her.

Li Xun watched as she reached out and lifted a teacup from the table, taking a delicate sip.

He would swear that her hands were the most graceful he had ever seen. Even the way her fingers curved around the porcelain seemed like a performance, as if she were playing a silent melody, each motion flowing with elegance and charm.

As she lifted the cup, his gaze followed her hand to her face.

Truth be told, while Gu Yin was undoubtedly a beauty, her features were more refined than stunning. They were delicate, cultured, but not overwhelmingly striking.

And yet, that very refinement had been cultivated to its peak. In every movement she made, there was a sense of cultivated brilliance, like inner silk and brocade quietly radiating outward. Her grace felt natural, effortless. The mark of someone born to lead.

She gently set down the teacup and said in an even, unhurried voice, “As for Net Throat Demon, I’ve no interest in bringing him up again; nor in wasting any more time on the matter. I came today for one reason only: to discuss the existence of the Rogue Cultivators’ Alliance and how it affects the interests of our sects.”

“Now that’s where I must disagree, Sect Leader Gu,” replied Qingming with a calm smile. “This so-called rogue cultivators' alliance has no reason to exist in the first place, so where’s the question of interests?”

Gu Yin, of course, knew Qingming was trying to shut down her argument. But she just smiled and replied calmly, “Whether it’s necessary or not isn’t for one or two people to decide.

“Let’s say today, someone from this alliance  marched up to Lianxia Mountain and wiped out your sect. Naturally, you’d be unhappy, Sect Leader Qingming. But I doubt Old Demon Luo or the Sevenfold Sage lose any sleep over it."

Qingming could only shake his head with a weary smile. A few miles away, watching by the water mirror, Li Xun couldn’t help but twitch at the corner of his mouth.

The “Old Demon Luo” and “Sevenfold Sage” Gu Yin had just named were none other than the heads of the Succubus Sect and the Heavenly Demon Sword Sect—two of Mingxin Sword Sect’s bitterest enemies. What she said wasn’t just plausible, it was dead-on.

But deliberately twisting Qingming’s words like that? It was more than a little shameless.

Still, Gu Yin delivered it so smoothly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. The very image of what passed for "orthodoxy" among the heretical sects.

Beside him, Yan Shuiyue suddenly let out a laugh. When both Li Xun and Qin Wanru turned to look at her, she grew slightly embarrassed, opened her fan, and gave it a few quick waves as if to hide her amusement.

Li Xun found the whole scene pretty amusing himself. He was just about to look away when Qin Wanru, seemingly by chance, glanced over at him. Their eyes met, and both smiled. It was a quiet moment, like old friends sharing an inside joke.

Back in the hall, Li Douliang reopened the debate. Unlike Qingming, he had little regard for formality and laughed heartily, voice booming across the chamber.

“Sect Leader Gu, no wonder they call you the master of music. Even when you’re plucking contradictions instead of strings, you still find the rhythm! But if I understand you right, you’re saying that since everyone’s got their own motives and standards, there’s no point worrying about right or wrong. So what the hell are we doing here, drinking tea so bland it tastes like water? Why not take this outside and settle it the old-fashioned way?”