Deep within the eastern district of Ancestral City, nestled amidst the sprawling grandeur, stood a manor of deceptively humble appearance, though its grounds stretched vast and imposing. From afar, it resembled nothing so much as a slumbering behemoth, coiled and watchful.

Silence reigned around the estate. No soul dared to venture near, as if this place were a forbidden zone, a cursed ground within the eastern reaches. Even those who caught a glimpse from afar would hasten to detour, unwilling to risk passing by.

The falling snow lay thick upon the land, a shimmering blanket of silver reflecting the cold, forbidding aura. This light, cast upon the manor’s imposing, tightly sealed gates, seemed to amplify the palpable sense of suppressed power emanating from within.

Before the gates, two stone lions crouched, their eyes closed. Yet, an undercurrent of savage energy swirled around them, a silent promise of violent awakening should they ever open their eyes.

Above the gates hung a plaque of crimson hue framed in jade. Upon it, two golden characters stood vertically inscribed:

“Li Manor.”

A dreadful, unseen force seemed to emanate from these characters, suffusing the very snowflakes with a chilling intent, causing them to spiral down with a deadly whisper.

Within the manor walls, a labyrinth of corridors wound amidst exquisitely crafted pavilions. Yet, even now, under the falling snow, a profound stillness held sway, devoid of any sign of life.

Beyond the labyrinthine corridors, a chamber built of grey stone sat shrouded in white. Within this snow-clad sanctuary, silence reigned until a resonant twang, like the sigh of a drawn bowstring, suddenly shattered the stillness as Wang Lin stepped through the gates of Eastern City.

In that tranquil chamber, an aged figure sat cross-legged before a curious artifact: a frame of violet wood. The wood seemed strangely incomplete, as if missing a vital component.

Indeed, were a bow placed within that frame, the piece would be whole.

Now, the frame thrummed with a barely audible hum, as if an unseen bow were taking shape within its embrace. The aged man’s eyes snapped open, a tempest of archery skill swirling within their depths. His gaze remained fixed upon the violet frame.

“The Ancestor’s bow frame sings… This only occurs when the Ancestor’s bow is near! Could it be… Is the Ancestor’s bow nearby?” He gasped, then, with a deep breath, he raised his hand. A flash of violet light erupted from his fingers, coalescing into a single arrow. This arrow darted from the chamber, its flight seemingly guided by a search, vanishing into the distance.

“Li Yun, Li Shan!” the elder bellowed. “Follow the arrow and seek out the aura of the Ancestor’s bow!”

The sound echoed through the silent estate. From two quiet pavilions, dark figures shot out like tendrils of smoke, darting after the violet arrow until they too disappeared from view.

Meanwhile, Wang Lin, shrouded in a cloak, braved the wind and snow as he trod the cobblestone streets of Eastern City. The snow lay deep, muffling his footsteps. He gazed at the city, and was awed by its sheer scale. This was the largest city he had ever beheld.

Passersby hurried past, sparing Wang Lin only a fleeting glance before moving on, their faces obscured by the driving snow.

Shops and grand residences lined the streets, emanating a potent aura of magic. Eastern City, cloaked in snow and bathed in magical essence, possessed an unfamiliar charm.

Wang Lin continued walking, the city growing darker as twilight fell. Finally, he entered a multi-story inn and, paying with a handful of fairy stones, secured himself modest lodgings.

The room was small and plainly furnished, yet the magical essence within was notably stronger than outside. The walls and windows were etched with protective seals, turning it into a perfect place for secluded cultivation.

Little Golden Mane, at Wang Lin’s side, gaped in excitement. The Golden Sea Dragon, shrunk to the size of a finger, lay curled lazily on the shoulder of Liu Jinbiao.

The unlikely pair were on good terms, which did not surprise Wang Lin, given Liu Jinbiao’s affable nature.

As night descended and the snow began to abate, Liu Jinbiao stood at the window, watching the growing number of people on the streets below. His eyes were drawn to the distant lights and music, and his excitement grew.

“Master, this is a marvelous place! It’s just like the cities back in the mortal realm,” Liu Jinbiao exclaimed, pointing to the source of music. “I would bet my life there are beauties to be found there!”

He continued, “If Xu Liguo is here, he must have fallen to his old ways. To find him, we should seek out such places. I, Liu Jinbiao, a paragon of virtue, will reluctantly go there myself and see if Xu Liguo is there. May I, Master?” Liu Jinbiao asked, barely able to contain his excitement as he looked at Wang Lin.

Wang Lin knew that Liu Jinbiao was restless and did not want to stay in the room. After hesitating for a moment, Wang Lin nodded his head.

As soon as Wang Lin nodded, Liu Jinbiao became excited. Immediately, he left the inn with the Golden Sea Dragon.

After Liu Jinbiao’s departure, Wang Lin sat alone in the room, gazing out the window at the snow with a wine jar in hand, drinking it in small gulps.

“Lian Dao Fei… Do you still remember the world of the Cave Dwellings…?” Wang Lin asked. By the time the moon was high in the sky and the snow started to get heavier, the wine jar in his hand had already run dry.

With a soft sigh, Wang Lin put down the wine jar and left the inn. Alone, clad in his cloak, he ventured out into the shadowy-but-not-too-dark East City.

The distant music and voices of East City at night held no warmth for him. He walked alone, feeling isolated and forlorn. The people gradually became scarce. Finally, he was the only figure in the wind and snow.

“Who goes there?” Wang Lin asked, stopping in his tracks.
The instant his words echoed forth, a palpable pressure coalesced from his very utterance, momentarily halting the swirling snow and wind, enough to wrench a soul from its hidden sanctuary!

From the void behind him, a shimmering distortion unveiled a vague, spectral figure. Before this apparition hovered a violet arrow, singing a bizarre keen as it hurtled directly toward Wang Lin.

No sooner had this being materialized than it unhesitatingly began weaving hand seals. A bow, seemingly conjured from the very air, took form before it. Invisible hands seized the weapon, drawing back the string with a resounding twang, and unleashed another arrow!

This projectile, following closely on the heels of the initial violet shade, raced toward Wang Lin, one the herald, the other the sting.

“The Li family?” Wang Lin, clad in a rain-soaked cloak and shadowed by a wide-brimmed hat that concealed his features, turned to face his assailant. He did not lift his gaze, but merely extended his right hand, pointing a single finger forward.

At this single, simple gesture, the approaching violet arrow shattered into nothingness. Then, the arrow that followed in its wake trembled violently and dispersed into smoke.

This entire exchange unfolded in a mere heartbeat. Wang Lin had not retreated an inch, only turned and offered this casual dismissal.

The archer’s eyes widened in disbelief. He could not fathom how his arrow, unleashed with all the might of a Golden Paragon, could be so effortlessly extinguished.

Every hair on his body stood on end. A wave of terror washed over him, and without a second thought, he erupted into a desperate retreat, coughing up a mouthful of blood to fuel a blood-escape technique. In the blink of an eye, he was a scarlet blur, fleeing a thousand leagues hence.

Wang Lin could have pursued, guaranteeing the archer’s demise, but he remained rooted to the spot, watching the crimson shade disappear over the horizon, making no move to follow.

“Barely set foot in the Eastern City, and already drawn the Li family’s attention… it must be the Li Guang Bow within me, its connection to their lineage that triggered their awareness,” he murmured.

“Likely only awareness, no true knowledge of my identity. Otherwise, they would not have dispatched merely two Golden Paragon cultivators to track me.” Wang Lin harbored no true grudge against the Li family, and thus saw no reason to spill blood this day.

“Let this be a lesson,” Wang Lin whispered, before turning and walking away.

But his four words echoed through the mind of the fleeing, crimson blur, like a thunderclap in his very soul. He spewed another mouthful of blood, his face contorted with fear.

“…What cultivation level is he?! Who is he?! This must be reported to the Ancestor immediately! This man is surely a Celestial Revered, and one of no ordinary power! Curses, Li Shan and I separated; I to observe him, Li Shan to capture his companion…” The blood-soaked figure’s face paled. He sensed, with growing dread, that the Li family’s actions might bring upon them a catastrophe of immense proportions.

Wang Lin continued his stroll, cloaked and hatted, through the city streets. He had no destination in mind, only a desire to wander in solitude. Inexplicably, he found himself drawn toward a brilliantly illuminated structure, where lilting melodies echoed in the night air.

He raised his head beneath the shadow of his hat, peering toward the palace-like edifice. Then, he lowered his gaze, ready to depart, but abruptly snapped his head back up, his eyes burning with a strange light as he fixed them upon the glittering palace.

His gaze seemed to pierce through all obstacles, focusing on the third floor where a smug, crimson-clad man held court. Wang Lin recognized the man’s features, his very essence.

Behind the red-clad figure, a group of guards, each radiating the power of a Third Step cultivator, stood in deferential attendance. They treated the man with clear respect.

“Only at this distance can I truly sense his presence. Someone has placed a seal upon him!” Wang Lin’s gaze narrowed, but a smile crept onto his lips.

“Xu Li Guo…” Wang Lin shook his head. He was about to enter the resplendent palace when he frowned, turning to face the distance, a chilling glint in his eye.

“The Li Clan grows bold!” With a flicker of his form, Wang Lin vanished. Within the distant palace, the red-clad man slammed his wine cup to the floor, pointing an accusing finger at those before him.

“Is this supposed to be wine? Don’t try to fool your granddaddy Xu! I know you’ve got millennium-old vintages stashed away! Get them out here, or your granddaddy Xu will tear this place apart!”

The red-clad man’s face was an image of haughty arrogance and feigned menace, utterly unaware that a moment before, a pair of eyes had observed him from afar. A gaze that, were he to understand it, would fill him with dread.