After Wu Lingzhu vanished without a trace, Song Wen turned back and glanced at Exquisite Pavilion.
The Golden Core maid inside Exquisite Pavilion was likely in league with Wu Lingzhu. Perhaps even the entire Exquisite Pavilion was problematic—not a Ten Thousand Swords Pavilion property at all, but a Wu Clan property.
Song Wen did not go looking for trouble with the maid. Instead, he rose into the air and flew deeper into the city, eventually finding a cheap cultivator inn and checking in.
He was now a "bankrupt" cultivator. Staying at a cheap inn was only fitting.
The next day.
The sky had just begun to brighten when Song Wen appeared by the lakeshore, gazing out over the lake veiled in morning mist.
He stood there without moving, from sunrise to sunset, and then until night fell.
Only at midnight did he return to the inn.
Though the person he longed for had not appeared, Song Wen returned to the lakeside when day broke again.
Day after day.
Until noon on the ninth day.
"Tut, tut, tut..."
A mocking laugh rang out. The arrival was Ke Zheng.
He circled Song Wen several times in flight, his gaze sweeping back and forth over Song Wen with amusement.
"There have been rumors in the city that someone stands by the lake every day, staring across its waters, never stopping despite wind, rain, or blazing sun. I thought it was some toad at the bottom of a well dreaming of scaling the cloud-bound immortal birds. Who would have thought it was Fellow Daoist Jiang?"
At this point, Ke Zheng put on an exaggerated expression, as though he had suddenly come to a realization.
"I understand now... Fellow Daoist Jiang must be cultivating some secret art that requires absorbing the power of the sun.