Just about what he’d expected. Even though the stretch between Nightless City and Yemo Heaven was crawling with restrictions, most of them weren’t actually all that dangerous.

On one hand, the really deadly ones take too much effort to set up and need very specific conditions, which just isn’t practical. On the other, those formations usually depend on a sect’s secret techniques. Once they get damaged, only someone from that sect can fix them, so they’re hard to reuse and not very efficient.

That’s why most of the restrictions laid in these areas were like the ones he was seeing now. Small formations meant mainly for warning or detection.

They didn’t need any special secret techniques. So long as a cultivator had some basic skill in formations, he could give it a try. Of course, whether something simple like this could actually work depended on the skill of the person who set it up.

Li Xun found the few formations before him quite interesting.

They were nothing more than ordinary detection restrictions, but a few subtle tweaks in the flow of qi had made them a little “sluggish.”

From what Li Xun could tell, the formations wouldn’t react at all unless a True Person–level expert passed through. Someone with a demonic aura powerful enough to shake the air itself."

These formations, which might look like useless scraps anywhere else, actually fit the situation here perfectly. They matched both the current layout and the requirements of each sect, and their feedback showed up clearly on the Constellation Plate. A clever bit of work, really.

Even though the formations were simple, Li Xun could still sense traces of the technique behind them. From that alone, he figured they had to be the work of the Mystic Cycle Sect. No one else could hide so much subtlety in something that looked so ordinary. Turning the complex into something that felt effortless.

It was Li Xun’s first time doing this kind of work, but he handled it with ease. In less than half an hour, he’d already fixed every damaged formation in the area.

He straightened up, about to take a breather, when the Constellation Plate started to shake again.

Another one?

Li Xun was beginning to understand the pain of being on roaming patrols. For now, though, he didn’t have the right to turn down assignments.

Scratching his head, he glanced at the display. The next site was only a few dozen li away. It was clearly assigned based on proximity. He could only sigh and set off in that direction.

....

Type… same. Technique… about the same. Damage level… moderate. Cause of damage… strong impact, and then…

His ears twitched, and he suddenly lifted his head, looking toward the western horizon.

They were less than a hundred li from the Mingxin Sword Sect’s defense zone. From here, he could faintly see flashes of sword light weaving through the sky. His sect’s own sword cultivators, most likely locked in combat with another powerful intruder.

Far ahead, where sea and sky met, streaks of dazzling “auroras” flared against the endless night above Yemo Heaven. Primordial qi rippled through the air, wave after wave without pause.

That had to be Nightless City’ unique Aurora Thousand Transformations Technique

. Clearly, the battle over there was reaching its peak as well.

As for what was happening behind him… forget it. Better to focus on his own job. Li Xun gave a wry smile, lowered his head, and went back to working on the formation.

Hundreds of fine threads of qi gathered under his control, stirring the primordial qi and crackling softly, masking the sounds from outside for a while.

As he watched the qi flows settle neatly into their intended paths, Li Xun shifted his posture. He’d been crouching too long.

At that instant, a flash of lightning streaked across the sky. The air itself seemed to shudder before a hoarse, ripping whistle cut through it, followed by the deep, heavy sound of a sword being drawn.

Without any warning, Li Xun drew his blade and slashed diagonally.

With a sharp clang, his sword-light shot out from under his arm, but was somehow deflected in an instant. Li Xun, as if he’d expected that all along, shifted his weight with the recoil, spun from the opposite side of his strike, and swept out with a palm.

But his strike met nothing but air.

He’d misjudged his target. He didn’t panic. Loosening his grip, he let Azure Jade fly from his hand in a cutting arc, while his body rolled forward, flipping several times across the ground before springing away like a nimble ape. Only after leaping more than ten yards did he stop and glance back, coldly alert.

What he saw made him pause in surprise.

Mistress Tianzhi?

The one who had just blocked his fierce double attack was none other than the Lady of the Nightless City. The woman he’d met a few times before, the one who had once gifted him a treasure.

After all these years, she looked exactly as he remembered. Her beauty still dazzling enough to make one’s heart skip a beat.

Her slender fingers brushed against the edge of his sword. Her eyes lingered on the blade with a faint, teasing smile before finally meeting his gaze.

Li Xun hurriedly straightened up and bowed in apology, not daring to mention how silently she had approached. Or how much trouble that had caused him.

She said nothing at first. With a slight flick of her wrist, she tossed Azure Jade back. When she saw Li Xun carefully put it away, she broke into a bright smile. “Good swordsmanship,” she said. “And ruthless enough.”

Li Xun’s face twitched slightly, and then he heard her add softly: “That’s real combat skill. Reminds me of Ming Ji back in the day. Looks like she trained you well.”

Realizing that Mistress Tianzhi wasn’t upset by his excessively ruthless move, he finally allowed himself to relax.

Still, she was a sect master. Joking around like this with a junior disciple didn’t seem quite proper.

Just as he was wondering about it, she spoke again. “Come here. I have something to ask you.” Her voice calm.

Surprised, Li Xun didn’t dare hesitate. He stepped forward obediently.

She turned her face toward the sea, where the sky on the far horizon had suddenly darkened.

“When Ox Warrior died, you were by his side,” she said quietly under his puzzled eyes.

Li Xun’s heart gave a sudden jolt, but he nodded.

True to her straightforward nature, Mistress Tianzhi didn’t waste a single word. “Tell me what happened that day.”

Something in her manner made Li Xun's heart stir again.

Seeing the stubborn, proud little curve her lips made without her realizing it, he thought to himself: Can one cat really eat every fish in the world?

A dozen thoughts spun through his mind, but on the surface he showed only a trace of natural puzzlement.

He did his best to recount the events of that day in a calm, objective tone. Though, of course, he left out certain details that shouldn’t be mentioned. Things like the change in Ox Warrior’s face when he saw him, and the later exchange with Lin Wuyou.

Even so, when Mistress Tianzhi heard about Ox Warrior’s repeated cries and the way he died, Li Xun could clearly see something break loose inside her. A chilling, murderous aura radiated from her.

It vanished in an instant, but Li Xun, standing close by, felt a chill prickling across his skin.

He went over his own words several times to make sure nothing he said was out of line. Mistress Tianzhi finally let out a soft sigh. To the now hyper-alert Li Xun, that sigh carried a depth and complexity that was hard to read.

There’s definitely something shady going on between her and Gu Zhixuan.

He was almost certain of it, but he still put on a look of innocent curiosity. “Master,” he said, “you’ve lived beside the Rogue Cultivators' Alliance of for years. Do you know what Ox Warrior meant when he said ‘he knows’? And who did he mean by...?”

He nearly blurted out “slut” but luckily caught himself in time and left it vague. Mistress Tianzhi didn’t answer him; she seemed lost in her own thoughts. Her expressions didn’t change dramatically, but even the subtle shifts on his face revealed more than enough.

Li Xun stole a glance at her, his thoughts growing more and more tangled.

She lowered her head a little, and he saw it clearly. Her shoulders were trembling.

She’s… crying?

Well, that was something. Truly… something.

Li Xun felt a strange bitterness on his tongue that he couldn’t quite explain. But at a moment like this, all he could do was give a helpless smile.

Whatever had become of Jade Wanderer, just this alone was enough to earn him Li Xun’s genuine praise.

After all, the woman before him wasn’t Qingyin, who’d been confined by her sect for a thousand years. She was the master of an entire sec—

Wait.

His thought cut off abruptly, because as Mistress Tianzhi’s shoulders began to shake even harder, Li Xun suddenly understood. She wasn’t crying at all. She was holding back laughter, fighting with all her might to keep it in.

And in the end, she couldn’t hold it back anymore.

A bright, open laugh burst from her throat, carrying far across the vast wilderness. You could tell there wasn’t an ounce of restraint or force in it. It came straight from the heart, genuine and completely unfiltered.

Li Xun just listened and watched, and before he knew it, he was completely dumbstruck. For the first time, he felt like his brain wasn’t keeping up.

He had never seen a woman, especially a woman as stunning as her, laugh so freely, so completely, so wildly.

Yet there was no denying it had a rare kind of beauty all its own.

In that moment, there was no hint of pretense. Everything about her felt genuine. Her true self laid completely bare.

From her laughter, Li Xun could tell she was happy, relieved, and maybe even a little mocking.

She laughed so hard she had to bend over, and in the end her knees gave out and she dropped to one knee, holding herself up with her fingers on the ground.

Li Xun stepped aside, watching like a fool as she poured out all that pent-up emotion in this startling way.

She must know something I don’t… Li Xun was completely sure of that.

Mistress Tianzhi didn’t notice how her loud laughter was making Li Xun uncomfortable. Even if she had, she wouldn’t have cared.

Maybe she’d laughed enough, because her laughter slowly faded. But she didn’t straighten up. Instead, she just stared blankly at the frozen ground beneath her hand, silent for a long time.

Li Xun could only sneak glances at her to kill time.

Since they were out in the wilderness, her clothes were simple and practical. Her hair was tied in a plain knot, the smooth, silk-like strands falling over her shoulders. She wore a pale quilted robe, cinched lightly at the waist with a golden sash that gave her an air of quiet elegance. But because she was half-kneeling on the ground, the fine fabric had gotten smeared with slush and dirt. When Li Xun’s eyes dropped, he noticed a few spots of blood on the robe. Against the silvery white cloth, the red looked especially sharp.

Those bloodstains snapped Li Xun out of his daze.

This wasn’t some peaceful garden for admiring flowers and beauty. It was a battlefield full of chaos.

He was just about to say something when she spoke first. “You can go now. About what happened today… thank you.”

Her tone was calm and serious, though she was still in that strange posture.

Li Xun could tell he was out of place there. He didn’t say much, just gave a quick reply, stepped back a few paces, and was about to take off when she suddenly called out to him.

“Rumor has it you’ve fought Hundred Ghost of the Shadow-Devouring Soul Sect quite a few times?”

“Uh… yes.”

“What do you think of him? I mean, that so-called ‘Nethermyst Puppet’ technique of his that everyone talks about.”

A thin layer of sweat broke out on Li Xun’s forehead.

Never mind how wildly Mistress Tianzhi’s train of thought jumped. What really gave him a headache was this: why did everyone love comparing Spirit Bamboo and Hundred Ghost so much? Keep that up, and sooner or later, something’s bound to go wrong.

“This… I’ve suffered from it before, but I’ve never actually seen it,” Li Xun said, carefully choosing his words. “Hundred Ghost never shows his ‘Nethermyst Puppet’ openly. He only uses it for sneak attacks, or to escape when things get dangerous…”

He was about to add something meaningless to fill the silence, but then saw Mistress Tianzhi slowly straighten. She didn’t look at him. Just waved her hand lightly. Li Xun understood, stopped talking, bowed once more, and took off into the sky.

Before leaving, he couldn’t resist one last glance. He caught sight of her lifting her face slightly toward the undying polar light, her eyes half-closed.

In that instant, she seemed to be savoring the wind sweeping in from the sea, still carrying hints of salt and blood. It blew away the weight pressing on her shoulders, leaving her utterly calm and at peace.

Right then, Li Xun realized he could no longer make sense of her.