The Ning Family

In the ancestral hall courtyard of the Yun Family, Yun Long sat cross-legged with his eyes closed.

His breathing was long and steady, as if he were concentrating on his cultivation.

In reality, his consciousness had long since spread out, sensing the situation outside Evergreen Valley.

He hadn't released his divine sense; it wasn't time to expose his strength yet.

For days, the western perimeter of Evergreen Valley had been swarming with spies from various factions of Wanfang Lake.

Those prying eyes were like maggots on bone, incredibly annoying.

Figures of Xiantian realm martial artists appeared and disappeared among the trees and behind the rocks, their numbers impossible to estimate.

Occasionally, there would be a spiritual sense fluctuation unique to Qi Refining Stage cultivators, slithering like venomous snakes before vanishing silently.

The air was filled with a heavy, oppressive atmosphere, like the calm before a storm.

The marriage proposal delegation from the Cheng Family of Donghu City finally set off in the afternoon.

Carriages, servants, guards, and gifts formed a long procession.

The convoy slowly advanced towards Evergreen Valley.

The curtain of one of the carriages was lifted by the wind, revealing a ball of scarlet inside.

It was the embroidered ball that Cheng Ningcui had thrown a few days prior.

However, the bloodstains on the ball had already dried, giving it a strangely dark hue.

Cheng Mingyue and his wife sat side-by-side in the carriage.

The carriage was not spacious, and the atmosphere was as frozen as ice.

Both husband and wife had ashen faces, were as silent as cicadas in winter, and even deliberately kept their breathing light.

This was because, within the small carriage, another person was seated.

A gaunt old man, dressed in a grey robe, with his eyes half-open and half-closed. He was Mo Wenjian, a Qi Refining Stage cultivator from the Mo Family of Donghu City.

He was one hundred and thirteen years old, and his cultivation had reached the peak of the sixth level of Qi Refining.

After a long while, Mo Wenjian's dry lips moved slightly.

"After all these years, three generations, and the Cheng Family still hasn't produced anyone with a Spiritual Root."

His voice was flat, devoid of any emotion.

"If you're going to blame anyone, blame your own bad luck. You can't blame others."

The Cheng Family's marriage proposal convoy to Evergreen Valley proceeded slowly.

The carriage wheels rolled over the official road, kicking up dust, and the footsteps of the servants and guards seemed particularly heavy.

The afterglow of the setting sun, like residual blood, painted the western sky, outlining the distant mountains in an even deeper darkness.

Still twenty li away from Evergreen Valley, the sky had already rapidly darkened.

Nightfall, like a monstrous beast ready to devour, was opening its gaping maw.

Ning Yongrui stood on an inconspicuous hillside, his robes fluttering slightly in the evening breeze.

He quietly watched the Cheng Family's convoy crawl along, yet no one came forward to stop them.

The other two families of Wanfang Lake wanted to sit back and watch the tigers fight, neither willing to be the first to stick their neck out.

Were they really going to watch the Cheng Family walk so brazenly into Evergreen Valley?

Weren't they afraid that what the Yun Family possessed would fall into the hands of the Mo Family?

Ning Yongrui's lips twitched, revealing a faint, enigmatic smile.

The sky was about to turn completely dark.

He mused inwardly that it seemed this night's bloody conflict would ultimately have to be initiated by him.

With that thought, Ning Yongrui no longer deliberately concealed his aura.

His figure flickered, like a ghost, and he silently appeared a hundred zhang ahead of the Cheng Family's convoy, blocking their path.

In the front carriage of the convoy, Mo Wenjian's withered eyelids trembled slightly.

His half-open, half-closed eyes suddenly shot out two beams of sharp light, as if they could penetrate the carriage and look directly ahead.

"Heh heh, Commander Ning."

Mo Wenjian's voice was dry and hoarse, like two pieces of rotten wood rubbing together, yet it clearly reached the ears of everyone outside the carriage.

"I never expected that the first one to lose patience and jump out to play the fool would be your Ning Family."

He didn't rush to reveal himself, remaining seated in the carriage, and spoke to himself, "That's true. Ever since your Ning Family set foot in our Wanfang Lake over ten years ago, this place has never known true peace."

"As the Commander of Wanfang Lake, Commander Ning must have the clearest understanding of the Yun Family's background. Perhaps you've already made contact?"

Mo Wenjian changed the subject, his tone laced with a hint of mockery, "No, that's not right. The Yun Family might have been a pawn set by your Ning Family from the very beginning."

He paused, his voice suddenly turning cold, "However, Commander Ning, are you truly determined to settle this here with an old man like me who is on his last legs?"

Ning Yongrui stood with his hands behind his back, the evening breeze ruffling the hair on his forehead, his expression calm and unruffled.

"Mo Wenjian, if you dare to self-destruct within the Great Xia, go ahead and try. If you don't dare, then you alone are no match for me."

His voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.

For Qi Refining Stage cultivators, the more potent the accumulated Qi Refining within their bodies, the more earth-shattering the power generated by self-destruction.

Cultivators and mortal martial artists were, after all, worlds apart.

If a peak-level old monster like Mo Wenjian at the sixth layer of Qi Refining were to recklessly detonate himself within Donghu City, the entire city would likely turn to scorched earth, with no mortal surviving.

However, the Great Xia Dynasty had ironclad laws.

Any cultivator who dared to self-destruct would have their affiliated clan and bloodline subjected to the Dynasty's thunderous purge.

This was the most fatal sword hanging over the heads of all cultivators.

The carriage curtain was flung open with a "swish."

Mo Wenjian's gaunt figure slowly emerged from the carriage. His feet landed on the solid ground of the official road, emitting a faint thud.

The night wind ruffled the faded hem of his robes. His half-closed eyes were now fully open, a sharp glint flashing within as he locked onto Ning Yongrui.

He was well aware of Ning Yongrui's backing.

The Wanfang Lake Commander, enfeoffed by the Great Xia Dynasty, cultivated the Mid-Grade Qi Refining technique "Three-Nine Snow Cold Qi," and had also learned numerous secret techniques passed down by the court, making him far superior to a local family cultivator like himself.

A sense of powerlessness washed over Mo Wenjian.

The very method of manipulating Qi to fly was something that, within the entirety of Wanfang Lake, only members of the Ning Family could perform.

This meant Ning Yongrui could fight or retreat as he pleased, placing him in an unassailable position.

And his Mo Family's inherited "Green Lake Jade Water Qi" was merely a Low-Grade water-elemental Qi Refining technique, no more than two inches deep. In the face of Ning Yongrui's "Three-Nine Snow Cold Qi," it was like encountering its natural nemesis, constantly suppressed.

The night wind suddenly picked up, swirling around the faded hem of Mo Wenjian's robes.

He slammed his gaunt palm forward, surging green True Qi carrying a bone-chilling coldness, directly lunging towards Ning Yongrui's face.

Ning Yongrui remained still, merely raising his right hand and casually flicking it.

Seemingly effortless, a more refined cold Qi materialized out of thin air, easily freezing and shattering the green True Qi.

The ferocity in Mo Wenjian's eyes surged, his attacks becoming even more ferocious.

His palms danced, sending streams of green Qi like venomous snakes towards Ning Yongrui's vital points.

Ning Yongrui remained calm and composed. His footwork, seemingly slow, was actually swift, shifting within inches. Each move perfectly neutralized Mo Wenjian's attacks without rushing to completely defeat him.

Lightly parrying another sharp palm strike, Ning Yongrui's tone was even, as if chatting with an old friend: "I'm very curious, why is the Mo Family in such a hurry, willing to jump out first?"

Mo Wenjian ignored him, his teeth clenched, his attacks growing more violent, each move imbued with the desperation of mutual destruction.

The Cheng Family's entourage had already descended into chaos.

Witnessing two Qi Refining Stage cultivators locked in a life-and-death struggle, the servants and guards dared not linger for even a moment, screaming and scattering in all directions.

Cheng Mingyue, pulling his wife along, mingled with the fleeing crowd, desperately trying to escape in the direction away from Evergreen Valley.

His heart was filled with endless unwillingness.

Before they could escape far, several figures emerged from the woods by the roadside like phantoms.

The glint of cold blades and swords flashed, and screams erupted one after another.

Cheng Mingyue watched with his own eyes as his wife's throat was slit by a sword, blood staining his vision.

He roared, wanting to resist, but was surrounded by four Xiantian martial artists.

As blades and swords struck him, searing pain coursed through him, and Cheng Mingyue's consciousness gradually blurred.

His body crashed to the ground, his wide-open eyes staring at the vast night sky, a testament to his defiance of fate.

The Yun Family, ancestral hall courtyard.

Yun Long remained cross-legged with his eyes closed, but his brow was slightly furrowed.

The battle fluctuations of two peak Mid Qi Refining Stage cultivators clearly reached his senses.

However, these two auras, in his perception, seemed somewhat weak and insubstantial, far from the intensity he expected.

A hint of doubt crept into his mind: was this the strength of top cultivators in Wanfang Lake? It seemed a bit too weak.

And after so long, they hadn't even used a single spell. What were they waiting for?

No matter how they fought, he, Yun Long, would not step out.