Martial Dao Eternal, Misaligned Principle Spirit Transmitted for Ten Thousand Generations

Chen Wuya took a step forward, tracing a phantom line through the air with his fingertip. The earth beneath his feet split open by an inch in response. The leaf at the tip of that withered branch trembled again, as though brushed by an invisible hand. He raised a hand in summons, and the branch lifted from the ground and fell into his palm.

The branch felt slightly heavy in his hand. Its surface grain twisted like misaligned meridians in motion, faintly resonating with the circulation of true qi within him. Closing his eyes to focus, he sent a thread of fine force from his fingertips into the branch, following the hidden grooves within—transmission paths left behind when they had set their defenses last night. Yet now they had been disturbed by some outside force, and the nodes were faintly hot.

"This wasn't a probe." He opened his eyes, his voice low. "The people watching us have made their move."

Bai Zhi leapt down from the eaves and landed beside him, her gaze sweeping toward the bamboo grove in the northwest. The fallen leaves there were still undisturbed, but she could tell that the angle of a Broken Branch stuck into the ground had changed. It had shifted half an inch from where it had been that morning.

"They know we're setting up defenses," she said.

Mo Feng came over leaning on his fan. He crouched by the spot Chen Xuan had dug earlier and used the tip of his fan to brush aside the loose soil. The copper-wire tripline buried beneath had been gently moved aside without triggering any vibrations. "A very light touch. They didn't intend to destroy anything, only scout the way." He looked up. "They're feeling us out."

Chen Yao clenched the copper cylinder hidden in