At Qingming’s signal, Wenhai went down the mountain to take care of the matter. Li Xun was about to excuse himself as well, but Qingming called him back.

“You haven’t been back to the mountain for more than two years, have you? Why are you following in your Martial Aunt Ming Ji’s footsteps? Now that you’re here, how long will you be staying this time?”

The tone in which Qingming spoke was no longer that of a sect master, but of a kind elder.

Despite all the caution Li Xun felt toward him, the words still brought a faint warmth to his heart.

He had already thought this through, so he answered with a solemn expression: “In three months it will be my master’s memorial day. I should pay my respects at his grave before I make any plans to leave.”

Qingming was clearly very pleased with this reply. Mentioning Lin Ge as well stirred his Dao heart, which had always been serene and translucent.

He let out a long sigh, his face touched with both comfort and sorrow, making him look as though he had suddenly grown older.

“It’s good that you carry this in your heart.”

Then, as if realizing he had let too much of himself slip, he quickly smiled again.

“Since you’ll be on the mountain for a while, you should take some time to visit Zuowang Peak. All these years, it’s been us old ones tending the residences of your Sixth Martial Grandmaster and Immortal Master Qingyin. You’re the only disciple in recent years that both of them held in such high regard. If you have time, go and put things in order there.”

Li Xun stayed silent, lowering his head as he gave his assent.

Qingming himself didn’t understand why he kept bringing up such heavy, melancholy topics. After a moment’s thought, he let out a long sigh. Not wanting to show weakness before his disciple, he simply turned and walked away.

Because of that, he didn’t see the expression hidden on Li Xun’s lowered face. Deathly pale and dark with gloom.

Held in high regard?

With his lips pressed tight, Li Xun flew unhurriedly through the sky.

Qingming’s words probably spoke for the whole of the Mingxin Sword Sect.

But how could they ever know? That so-called regard was nothing but a poisonous fire, burning away at his heart little by little, reminding him every moment that in some people’s eyes, his worth was no more than a pile of filth.

They toyed with his feelings, trampled on his dignity, and tossed him a few bones as if he were a cat or a dog. And had the nerve to call it “regard.”

Who would ever want that kind of “regard”? What son of a bitch would actually like that kind of “regard”?

The poisonous fire never stopped searing him, its venom seeping drop by drop into every vein of his body. It was like countless venomous snakes gnawing at his flesh and soul.

He felt as if he had truly become a serpent himself, wearing the skin of a cat or dog, wagging his tail for so-called masters.

But in truth, he was only waiting for the chance to spring out and strike with a single vicious bite.

And from the look of things now, that chance might finally have come.

He hadn’t had the time earlier, with everything that had happened, to calmly think through the cause and effect of the Ox Warrior affair. But now, with nothing pressing on him, his mind began turning on its own.

From the moment Ox Warrior appeared, all the way up to the discovery of Kitty’s “farewell note,” the entire sequence replayed itself in his mind.

There was one thing he could be certain of: only a fool would believe that Ox Warrior lost control of himself because of cultivation.

The fact that they even dispatched their trump card, Net Throat Demon, all the way from the North Pole showed just how seriously they took Ox Warrior. And how desperate they were to see him dead.

And then, thinking back on Lin Wuyou’s clumsy, “nothing to see here” threats, he couldn’t help but wonder... what exactly had happened in the North Pole?

Everyone knew that from the very day it was founded, the Rogue Cultivators' Alliance had never truly been united.

More than sixty years had passed. The Alliance’s basic framework hadn’t changed, but it had been constantly adjusted.

The Six Ruling Councilors had grown into a Ten Ruling Councilors. The Discussions Hall had expanded to eighty-one members. And the Fourfold Envoys, who handled external affairs, had become such a sprawling, tangled structure that it was staggering to behold.

All of this had created the perfect breeding ground for internal strife.

If you looked on the bright side, maybe one morning you’d wake up and find the Alliance had simply scattered into the wind.

But would that pack of scheming whores in the North Pole, and that enigmatic, half-alive, half-dead figure Jade Wanderer, ever allow such a thing to happen?

Jade Wanderer...

Li Xun let out a long breath. Maybe it was because of those unforgettable years in his youth, but whenever he thought of Jade Wanderer, his hand would go to his face almost instinctively.

It was the same now. He traced his cheek lightly with his fingertips, mulling over the seemingly meaningless ramblings that Ox Warrior had left behind.

The scraps of information Ox Warrior left were far too few. Yet it was exactly because of that scarcity that Li Xun’s thoughts spun out of control, colliding in his mind with no order at all.

Li Xun’s guesses came one after another, and one after another he dismissed them.

By the time he had rejected them all, his mind was completely blank.

He slapped his forehead hard, forcing himself to start over from the beginning. Stripped down to its simplest form, the matter really came down to just two possibilities: first, Jade Wanderer was dead; second, Jade Wanderer was still alive.

Every question branched out from those two possibilities.

For example, suppose Jade Wanderer was dead. Then, when did he die? How did he die? If there was a killer, who was it? What was Gu Yin’s group’s attitude about it? How did Ox Warrior know? Was his source reliable? And so on, and so on…

On the other hand, suppose Jade Warrior wasn’t dead. Then, did that mean Ox Warrior’s claim was just ravings? What was the hidden threat in Lin Wuyou’s words really about? And why had Ox Warrior been hunted across ten thousand li by Net Throat Demon…

Wait a second!

Li Xun dug his fingers into his face. He suddenly realized his own thoughts had been drifting, almost instinctively, toward the conclusion that Jade Wanderer was dead. That kind of irrational leaning was the worst thing to have when analyzing a problem. He needed to calm down. Calm down…

But just then, the sound of a flute drifted into his ears, throwing his thoughts back into chaos. Li Xun burst out in fury, his eyes flashing as he scanned his surroundings.

Who the hell was blowing that thing?

Not spotting his target at a glance only made Li Xun more irritable. He gave up trying to think it through and instead followed the sound, searching for the person playing the flute.

But the longer he listened, the more his anger eased.

The sound carried a deep sadness. The notes pierced the clouds above and drifted down like a fine rain, delicate and hauntingly beautiful.

The player’s cultivation was clearly refined as well. The music floated like strands of silk, yet rang sharp and distinct, as if right by his ear. This had to be one of the most talented disciples of the sect’s third generation.

And yet, if he really was such a standout, shouldn’t his state of mind match his skill? Why then play such mournful music, with none of the calm and openness expected of a cultivator?

That thought only made Li Xun more curious. By now his temper was gone; he only wanted to see who this flutist really was.

The sky had already grown dark, and the melody grew ever clearer. After flying several li, he came upon a sparse stretch of woodland. Beyond the trees he could hear the rush of flowing water, and the flute sounded even sadder and more moving.

It was plain that the player was trying to use the music to ease his own turmoil. But with so much emotion poured into it, he had lost control, unable to stop even if he wanted to.

Li Xun frowned and was about to step into the grove when he suddenly noticed a figure huddled under a large tree. The man looked shifty, awkward in a way that was hard to miss. Li Xun moved closer without a sound, and once he got a good look, he couldn’t help but smile. Wasn’t that Shan Zhi?

It had been years, and he looked even worse off than before.

If the sect were to name the most stagnant disciple of the past sixty years, Shan Zhi would no doubt take the prize.

He had once been just a little servant boy, until Immortal Master Ming Song took him in as a disciple against the usual rules, all because of his talent. Back then, he became the object of envy for every child hauling water or breaking rocks.

But precisely because of that exception, both his mindset and his cultivation rested on a fragile foundation. Lacking discipline and drive, his progress grew increasingly shallow, until even his once-excellent physique had been all but ruined.

Never mind Li Xun; probably even a disciple with only twenty years of steady cultivation could beat him in a sword fight.

The more frivolous he became, the worse he did; the worse he did, the more insecure he grew; and the more insecure he grew, the more obsessive and bitter he became.

Seeing him like this, Li Xun didn’t even need to think about it. He already knew that the flute music coming from deeper in the grove had to be Qi Bi.

Qi Bi could be called a friend who had once shared hardships with him, and at the same time, she was also a piece Li Xun had once carefully “cultivated” for his own plans. Even if only for his own sake, he was curious to know what had made her so sad.

After a moment’s thought, he smiled and said, “Senior Sister, you really have refined taste, coming up to Zuowang Peak just to play the flute for yourself. Senior Brother Wenhai has already returned, and we even brought along a particularly troublesome young girl…”

He spoke as if making casual conversation, mentioning a few things about Wenhai. Qi Bi’s expression stayed calm, without much reaction. But the moment he mentioned Ying Ning, she showed real interest. Most of what she said in reply was about the little girl.

And when she heard that Ying Ning’s parents had weakened their cultivation in order to give birth to her, her reaction was especially strange.

Li Xun could tell there was something more going on. So he shifted the subject. “Senior Sister, are you unhappy today?”  he suddenly asked.

“Ah, no, not at all!” Qi Bi was startled for a moment, then broke into a smile. “Now that I’ve seen you return, how could I not be happy?”

“That I believe,” Li Xun said without the slightest embarrassment, but then added quickly, “It’s just that before you saw me, that flute tune you played was full of sorrow. That sort of mood isn’t good for your cultivation.”