Duck Mountain Island.
Rain poured down in torrents, bean-sized drops hammering the ground, eaves, and mountain rocks with an unbroken crackle.
All of Duck Mountain Island lay shrouded in a vast white curtain of rain.
Yang Jing and Sun Ningxiang walked side by side. A gentle pulse of internal qi kept the wind and rain at bay, leaving their clothes dry.
They headed toward the mountain path at the boundary between Lingxi Peak and Yunxi Peak.
Along the way, they saw disciples hurrying about with frightened expressions, gathering in twos and threes beneath eaves and in pavilions to speak in hushed voices, their unease and gravity impossible to hide.
Seeing several pale-faced disciples talking among themselves beside the path, Yang Jing knitted his brows ever tighter, the unease within him growing stronger.
Earlier, outside the Ma Family Tavern in Hidden Dragon Town, he had seen a sect steward racing through the rain in a panic and vaguely sensed that something was wrong.
The disciples' reaction now made it clear that something serious had happened.
A little farther ahead, four or five disciples wearing the white robes of the Profound Truth Sect's inner door had gathered beneath a pavilion beside the mountain path, speaking in lowered voices.
Their faces were filled with shock and solemnity. They spoke urgently, fear flashing across their expressions from time to time.
Yang Jing paused. He faintly caught fragments such as "Demon Cult," "village massacre," and "Heyin County," and his heart sank.
He turned to Sun Ningxiang and gave her a quiet word, then walked toward the pavilion.
The Inner-Door Disciples inside were deep in their anxious discussion when they suddenly noticed someone entering and instinctively turned to look.
Once they recognized Yang Jing, they started in surprise. Their panic instantly gave way to respect and