Night lay deep over Seven Mysteries Mountain, its main peak ablaze with lights, the faint music of strings and woodwinds drifting through the air. Tonight marked the birthday of an influential elder of the Seven Mysteries Sect. Disciples of standing, stewards, and even some elders had all come to offer their congratulations, making for a lively occasion.
Han Li's little courtyard remained quiet and deserted. He had no interest in such social obligations. With that time, he would rather refine another wisp of spiritual power. Having just broken through to the fifth level of Qi Refining, he still needed to consolidate his cultivation.
Yet a Sound Transmission Talisman pierced the courtyard's simple restriction and hovered before him. The aura lingering around it was cold and soft, with a hint of authority that brooked no refusal-it was Mo Juren.
"Martial Nephew Han, today is Elder Liu's birthday, and a lively banquet is being held at my residence. You have only recently joined the sect. This is an excellent opportunity to meet your fellow disciples and broaden your connections. I have already reserved a seat for you. Come at once."
Han Li crushed the Sound Transmission Talisman, a cold gleam flashing in his eyes. That old fox couldn't sit still already? Had he noticed those two disciples' disappearance and grown suspicious, hoping to use this opportunity to observe and probe me at close quarters?
Very well. I might as well see what medicine this old ghost is hiding in his gourd. And while I'm there... meet the Seven Mysteries Sect's "promising young talents."
He straightened his blue-green Core Disciple Uniform. The youthful innocence and sharpness on his face quietly faded, replaced by an expression suited to his current "identity": slightly reserved, with a trace of the pride expected of someone possessing a Dark Spiritual Root. Acting was his specialty.
Mo Juren's residence stood in an area rich in spiritual energy on the main peak. Its sprawling grounds, pavilions, and towers made an imposing sight. At this moment, carriages and horses crowded its gates, and guests arriving to offer birthday congratulations streamed in without end.
Han Li presented his Core Disciple Token. After inspecting it, the gatekeeping disciple immediately ushered him inside with great respect. By now, everyone in the Seven Mysteries Sect knew of his Dark Spiritual Root.
The banquet was held in a spacious, lavish hall, filled with the clinking of cups and the bustle of laughter and conversation. Han Li's arrival instantly drew many eyes. Some were curious, some searching, some jealous, and some held undisguised hatred, like Li Feiyu's-his injuries had yet to heal, and he sat pale-faced in a corner, nearly crushing the wine cup in his hand when he saw Han Li.
As a guest elder, Mo Juren enjoyed an exalted position and sat near the seat of honor. Seeing Han Li arrive, he immediately plastered a warm smile across his face and beckoned from afar. "Martial Nephew Han, over here. I saved you a seat."
There was indeed an empty seat beside him, in an excellent position, demonstrating the "importance" he attached to Han Li.
Han Li approached as requested and bowed without servility or arrogance. "Elder Mo."
"No need for ceremony. Sit down." Mo Juren warmly drew him into the seat and personally poured him a cup of spirit wine, his voice full of concern. "Has your cultivation been going smoothly lately, Martial Nephew? If you encounter any difficulties, you may come to me at any time. Our sect's texts contain very few records on cultivating with a Dark Spiritual Root, but perhaps my years of experience will allow me to offer some guidance."
As he spoke, a concealed strand of spiritual sense reached out like a tentacle, attempting to slip unnoticed into Han Li's body and inspect his cultivation progress and the nature of his spiritual power.
Han Li sneered inwardly, but his face displayed a timely trace of "gratitude" and just the "right amount" of confusion. "Thank you for your concern, Elder. My spiritual power has indeed been growing quite rapidly lately, but controlling it sometimes feels difficult. In particular, when casting certain dark-attribute spells, I always feel that my ability falls short of my intentions..." As he spoke, he gently circulated his spiritual power, deliberately creating the illusion of "rapid progress, but a somewhat unstable foundation and shaky control." He also allowed a faint thread of pure Dark Spiritual Power, carrying a sense of "awkwardness," to seep outward.
When Mo Juren's spiritual sense touched that thread of power, he was first startled by its purity, then felt a flash of "understanding." As expected, his progress was too fast for his control to keep pace. A common failing among geniuses! He secretly rejoiced. Excellent. An unstable foundation would make it all the easier to act against him later! As for the suspicions raised by the two missing disciples, Han Li's "perfect" performance and the lure of his Dark Spiritual Root temporarily pushed them aside.
"No matter, no matter." Mo Juren's smile broadened. He withdrew his spiritual sense and patted Han Li's shoulder, looking every bit the kindly elder. "The path of cultivation requires a balance between tension and relaxation. With your exceptional talent, Martial Nephew, it is all the more important to advance steadily and build a firm foundation. Here, try this Hundred-Flower Fruit Wine. It offers some benefits for stabilizing spiritual power."
Just then, laughter as clear as a bell sounded outside the hall, accompanied by a faint, fragrant breeze.
"Father! I'm late! May your blessings be as vast as the Eastern Sea, and your life as enduring as the Southern Mountain!"
Everyone turned toward the voice and saw a girl in a pale-yellow dress flutter into the hall like a lively butterfly. She was about fifteen or sixteen, with skin fairer than snow, bright eyes, white teeth, and a charming, lovely face. Her large eyes were especially lively and mischievous, sparkling whenever she glanced around. Holding a brocade box, she ran up to Elder Liu with a cheerful smile and presented her birthday gift.
The gazes of many young disciples in the hall were instantly drawn to her. Even Li Feiyu's eyes brightened somewhat in his corner.
Something stirred in Han Li's heart. Mo Caihuan! Mo Juren's daughter, that clever, mischievous girl who was rather fond of Han Li. She had appeared after all.
At the sight of his daughter, a genuine smile appeared on Mo Juren's face. He beckoned to her. "Caihuan, come and greet your Senior Brother Han Li."
After presenting her gift, Mo Caihuan skipped over to Mo Juren's side and studied Han Li curiously, blinking her large eyes. "So you're Senior Brother Han Li, the one with the Dark Spiritual Root? You don't look all that fierce." Her tone was innocent and carefree, as though she knew nothing of the bloodshed on the Sword-Grinding Path or his ruthlessness in the outer sect tournament-or perhaps simply did not care.
Han Li nodded slightly, his expression calm. "Junior Sister Mo."
Mo Caihuan pursed her lips. "Why are you so cold? I heard you're incredibly strong. You beat that annoying Li Feiyu with just two fingers! Well done!" She seemed to dislike Li Feiyu quite intensely.
Hearing this from his corner, Li Feiyu's expression turned uglier still.
Mo Juren chuckled and said to Han Li, "This is my daughter, Caihuan. She has been spoiled since childhood and has no sense of propriety. Please don't take offense, Martial Nephew." He then turned to Mo Caihuan. "Your Senior Brother Han has only just arrived and is unfamiliar with the sect. Show him around and help him settle in."
"I know, Father!" Mo Caihuan agreed with a cheerful smile, then sat without ceremony in the empty seat beside Han Li. Propping her delicate cheek on her hand, she openly studied him with her lovely eyes, brimming with curiosity. "Senior Brother Han, what does having a Dark Spiritual Root feel like? Do you see everything in black and white? Can you see clearly at night without lighting a lamp?"
Her questions were whimsical and eccentric, carrying the innocence and carefree charm unique to a young girl. An ordinary boy, questioned at such close quarters by so beautiful a girl, would probably have been red to the ears by now.
But Han Li's heart was solid as a rock. He merely answered mildly, "It's no different from anyone else."
Mo Caihuan seemed to find his chilly response entertaining. Far from growing bored, she questioned him with even greater enthusiasm, moving from cultivation to his preferences, chattering like a lark.
Han Li mostly gave brief replies. When he occasionally raised his eyes, he could see the smile in Mo Juren's gaze that said "everything is under control." Was the old fox trying to use his daughter to draw closer to me and lower my guard? He had certainly worked out a fine scheme.
He also noticed Nangong Wan on the other side of the hall, sitting quietly alone with a white veil covering her face. Her gaze seemed to drift faintly in his direction from time to time. In particular, when Mo Caihuan moved close to him, those cool eyes seemed to pause for an instant.
The banquet continued in an atmosphere that seemed harmonious and lively, but beneath which hidden currents surged.
Han Li played the role of a core disciple with "astonishing talent but little worldly experience, receiving Elder Mo's warm attention while being pestered with questions by a lively junior sister." Inwardly, however, he calmly observed everyone, analyzing the meaning behind every glance.
Mo Caihuan's appearance had muddied this pool of water further and introduced a new uncertainty.
He raised his wine cup and took a small sip of the so-called Hundred-Flower Fruit Wine. It tasted sweet and mellow, with spiritual energy hidden within. Yet on his tongue, he detected another flavor.
It was the taste of wind and rain about to descend.
Han Li set down his cup. His gaze passed over Mo Caihuan's lovely profile and turned toward the heavy night sky beyond the window.
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