A strange unease clung to Bai Wei, for within his very being, the Yin energies flowed in a manner unnatural, twisting his spirit and granting him traits of a woman. Had he been born thus, it would be one thing, but Wang Lin remembered a time when such a transformation was far less pronounced.

As they flew, Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly, his gaze lingering on Bai Wei. Something was amiss, a subtle dissonance that he could not quite place.

Centuries spent treading the Dao had honed his spiritual senses, granting him a glimmer of preternatural awareness, though not the divinely inspired prescience of Tian Yunzi himself. Yet, he felt a faint shift in the currents of fate, a whisper of change in the ethereal winds.

His divine sense swept over Bai Wei, who remained oblivious, chattering merrily with Wang Lin as they journeyed.

“You were not here long during your previous visit. In a few months, the very heavens of Tian Yun will shift, bringing a spectacle of alternating light and shadow, a unique wonder to behold.”

Bai Wei continued, “These past centuries have been peaceful within the Tian Yun Sect, undisturbed by great events. If one were to search for anything of note, it would be the White Yang Wood behind the mountain, planted long ago and fabled to never bloom. Yet, it flowered, not with the expected white, but with black as night. It lived but three breaths before withering into a wisp of mist. Several fellow disciples were most astonished, and I confess, I wished I could have saved it.”

“Nothing conclusive,” Wang Lin murmured, his brow furrowing slightly. Yet, that faint, nagging feeling persisted, clinging to the edges of his consciousness. He maintained his composure, responding to Bai Wei’s words.

“Since your departure, our honored Master has remained mostly in seclusion, rarely concerning himself with worldly matters,” Bai Wei recounted with a smile, detailing the mundane affairs of the Tian Yun Sect. At first, Wang Lin listened with intent, but his brow furrowed as the recitation continued.

Bai Wei’s words were but trivialities, a torrent of inconsequential details that led nowhere.

“Then there is Ghost Eye City, famed for its auction of a complete Immortal Art many years ago. Its gates open but for a month, drawing countless cultivators seeking to trade. However, the city is small, and lodgings limited. If we arrive too late, we may be forced to sleep beneath the stars,” Bai Wei chuckled.

Wang Lin fell silent, allowing Bai Wei to guide him, his mind lost in thought.

A long incense stick later, Wang Lin abruptly spoke, “Junior Brother Bai, what cultivation art do you follow?”

Bai Wei startled, his face contorting in surprise. He stopped in his tracks, stepping back and regarding Wang Lin warily. “Senior Brother Wang, do you find me distasteful? If my presence displeases you, I shall leave and never trouble you again!”

Wang Lin was taken aback. He had merely inquired after his cultivation, yet Bai Wei’s reaction was so extreme.

“Junior Brother, you misunderstand. It was merely a casual question,” Wang Lin replied calmly.

Bai Wei bit his lip, his expression a complex blend of emotions as he met Wang Lin’s gaze. “The art I practice is called the Dual Desire Immortal Incantation!” With those words, Bai Wei fell into a brooding silence, flying northward.

“Dual Desire Immortal Incantation…” Wang Lin’s eyes narrowed in thought as he watched Bai Wei’s retreating figure. Then, his gaze sharpened. He saw it clearly now – the swirling Yin energies within Bai Wei’s body were accelerating, flowing through his meridians at an increased pace. The rapid flow formed a strange, intricate sigil within his very being.

The sigil was composed of the Yin energy flowing along his meridians. Before, the flow was too subtle, too slow for Wang Lin to notice, but now it was revealed for an instant, then vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

Wang Lin filed the image away in his mind, his expression unreadable. He said nothing, continuing the journey alongside Bai Wei. As dusk approached, a circular city loomed in the distance.

The city was a perfect ring etched into the land, guarded by patrolling cultivators. Even before they drew near, Wang Lin sensed the faint hum of a powerful formation.

Occasionally, sword beams descended from the heavens, carrying lone figures or small groups, who presented invitation talismans before being allowed to enter.

Wang Lin knew that in unfamiliar lands, one should not carelessly probe with their divine sense, lest it be taken as an insult. Though his power had grown, he remained ever cautious, for caution was a cultivator’s greatest shield. After a moment’s pause, he released his divine sense, allowing it to wash gently over the city before them. It was not an act of aggression, but rather a light breeze, seeking only the subtle disturbances of magical protections, not the secrets hidden within the walls.

It was akin to approaching a strange door and pausing before entering, not barging inside, but glancing through the doorway when it opened. It was a breach of etiquette, perhaps, but in the cultivation world, it was an accepted practice.

Only the most tyrannical would take offense.

The formations guarding the city posed no obstacle to Wang Lin, whose knowledge of formations was profound. As his divine sense brushed over the city, the defenses remained undisturbed.

But just as his divine sense lingered over the city, three powerful, hidden presences erupted into being, transforming into three immense dragons that surged toward him.

“What friend visits Ghost Eye City? I am First Dust, one of the Dust Dao Three!” A raspy voice echoed within his mind, tinged with malice as it reached the edge of Wang Lin’s consciousness.

At the same time, the three illusory dragons transformed into a maelstrom, intent on trapping and destroying Wang Lin’s divine sense.

Two of the presences were early stage Nirvana Scryers, while the third, Ouyang Zi, was mid stage. United, they easily contained Wang Lin’s power.

Wang Lin’s true strength lay in his physical body, his spiritual cultivation was not equal to the power displayed.

“I am Wang Lin of the Tian Yun Sect. I offer my apologies,” Wang Lin transmitted humbly, though his power showed otherwise.

“You invade our city, then presume to be forgiven? There is no such thing! We will not make things difficult. Come forward, beg forgiveness, then leave. Step again into Ghost Eye City, and you will face our wrath!” snapped a malicious force.

Wang Lin and Bai Wei stood in line outside the city, oblivious to the battle of spirits raging within the city.

Bai Wei was unaware of the clash, but Wang Lin frowned.

“Friend, do not misunderstand, We are tasked with securing Ghost Eye City. If you refuse our terms, then do not blame us when we extinguish your spirit,” The Elder Dust hissed. If the other had pressed the challenge, they would have had a battle to settle, however, he was seen as week.

“I give you three breaths,” Elder Dust.

The allotted time vanished, and the dragons surged to destroy the offender.

“You three have gone too far,” Wang Lin growled, ignoring Bai Wei and Xu Liguo, and took a step.

The protections of the city crumbled and Wang Lin became nothing more than a blur of motion as the formation disintegrated.

Wang Lin reappeared above Ghost Eye City. In a moment, his hand lashed out and snatched one of the dragons, as if swatting a fly. With a mighty heave, he hurled the dragon back at its master, the force of the blow causing the dragon to explode.

Inside a lavish building, an old man sat in a meditation room. He gasped as he was awash with blood! “A Nirvana Shatterer!”