The main mountain gate of the Wanxiang Sect.

Inside the Zhen-nei Space of the Wanxiang Zhenxing Array, it was vast and expansive, like a new world.

There were no ordinary mountains, rivers, or palaces here, but an endless expanse of cloud ruins. All directions, above and below, were surrounded by cloud-scripted boundary walls.

This wall was neither stone nor jade, but a translucent crystal membrane formed from primordial cloud mica, tempered by telluric spiritual energy and sculpted by heavenly winds. Cloud Dao patterns naturally flowed upon it, resembling the orbits of the stars or the pronouncements of the Great Dao, constantly absorbing and exhaling primordial clear Qi, with an ever-flowing brilliance.

Within the cloud wall, a vast sea of clouds churned like a boiling cauldron, its color not merely plain white. In the morning, it was woven with golden light; in the evening, it transformed into purple silk; at times, it was clear and blue as if washed; at others, dark and deep, pregnant with thunder. Amidst the swirling mists, nine-aperture spiritual vortices subtly appeared and disappeared, absorbing primal essence and nurturing all phenomena.

When cultivators’ spiritual senses entered the array’s core and touched the cloud-scripted boundary wall, wondrous phenomena would arise, forming cloud-body avatars.

At this moment, the eight cultivators representing the eight main peaks had already connected their spiritual senses to the array, forming eight cloud-body avatars, gathered together.

The cloud-body avatars sat on cloud-like futons, with Wei Ji at the head.

He appeared to be a middle-aged man in his forties. His face was proper, his brow bones flat, his nose bridge neither high nor low, utterly unremarkable, the type to disappear instantly in a crowd.

His skin color was a light wheat tone, like a riverbed stone smoothed by flowing water, due to long-term lack of intense sun exposure.

His pupils were extremely dark, almost pure black. When he looked at people, his gaze was calm and distant, as if observing the world through a transparent glazed screen, rarely showing emotional fluctuations.

He surveyed his surroundings and slowly spoke, “The purpose of summoning your spiritual thoughts into the array this time is solely to discuss the matter of Bai Zhi Xiancheng.”

Before Wei Ji finished speaking, a huge cloud-body to his right laughed heartily, “It’s high time we discussed this! Bai Zhi Xiancheng should have been in our Wanxiang Sect’s grasp long ago.”

“As long as that little brat Wen Ruan-yu yields, we can officially intervene in Bai Zhi Xiancheng.”

“Now we’re stuck because of him!”

“As a disciple of our sect, he actually refuses to cooperate, which is truly infuriating.”

The speaker was Tuoba Huang.

He was the Peak Master of Wan Shou Peak, as robust as a mountain, nearly three meters tall, with muscles knotted like ancient tree roots, full of explosive, primal power.

His skin was a bronzed color from long-term exposure to wind and sun.

Thick, lion-mane-like black beard and hair grew wildly, almost covering half his face, adding to his untamed demeanor.

His features were sharply defined as if carved by knife and axe. A hideous claw mark slashed diagonally from his left temple to his right cheek, traversing his nose bridge. His eyes were as sharp as an eagle’s, yet carried the natural intimidation and disdain of a beast king, flashing with intense light when they opened and closed, making people dare not look directly.

Tuoba Huang’s words were immediately met with rebuttal from others.

“Peak Master Tuoba, the bones of a Confucian scholar are harder than the profound iron of a cold pool; how can they be broken by brute force? Wen Ruan-yu has steadfastly defended the isolated city of Bai Zhi for decades, civilizing the wilderness with his benevolent heart. His blood has not cooled, his Dao has not extinguished. To him, the words ‘benevolence’ and ‘righteousness’ are the pillars of his life’s foundation, the backbone reaching to the heavens. To make him break his benevolent bones and submit… is as difficult as ascending to the heavens.”

The speaker slowly shook his head, a few ink-stained strands of hair falling beside his cheeks, his sleeves flapping without wind, as if pages were being gently turned by an invisible hand.

His figure was slender as bamboo, his skin cold and pale, as if he rarely saw the light of day.

When he refuted Tuoba Huang, his eyes were half-closed, half-open, as if half-asleep, his pupils diffused as if covered by a gray mist.

It was Lu Zhen-shu, the Peak Master of Fuyong Peak.

For a moment, many people looked at Lu Zhen-shu, all with a hint of surprise.

In similar councils, Lu Zhen-shu rarely spoke, and his presence was always low. However, considering that Wen Ruan-yu was a Confucian cultivator, and Lu Zhen-shu always had a good impression of Confucian cultivators, his speaking out now was reasonable.

“Hmph! Benevolence? Righteous bones? It’s merely the benevolence of a woman!” Tuoba Huang’s angry snort was like a sudden clap of thunder, as he glared at Lu Zhen-shu.

“Wen Ruan-yu is merely a Golden Core cultivator. Even if he is a true disciple, is he not even supposed to listen to our commands? This is simply outrageous!”

What angered Tuoba Huang the most was this very point.

He was rough by nature; with a single command, thousands of spirit beasts would rampage and fight, overwhelming enemies like a tide.

He always made decisions with a single word and detested subordinates who defied discipline.

Just then, another voice interjected, “Benevolence? Integrity?”

The speaker’s lips curved into a cold, playful arc. His voice was not loud, but it carried a strange penetrative power, “It’s merely that the price hasn’t been met.”

“In my opinion, Wen Ruan-yu is not a stubborn stone, but a… jade awaiting its price.”

“His so-called ‘resistance’ is just waiting for our sect to offer a high price.”

“With enough money, even stubborn stones can nod. What about Wen Ruan-yu?”

The speaker chuckled disdainfully.

His face was as fair as jade, his eyes held a smile, like an elegant scholar. He was Meng Wu-yan, the Deputy Peak Master of Zilei Peak.

Meng Wu-yan’s tone shifted, “However, this jade is not our only concern. Even if Wen Ruan-yu yields, what about that group of pedantic Confucians who always stick together behind him?”

“These people,” Meng Wu-yan’s voice deepened slightly, “though their positions are only mid-level, they are like centipedes, deeply entrenched! If this matter makes them feel sorrow for their kind and leads them to unite in resistance… the daily affairs of the various peaks might be thrown into chaos!”

His purple eyes suddenly sharpened, and he spoke word by word, his voice now devoid of any frivolousness, “Especially, the elder Duanmu Zhang among them.”

“He comes from Huazhang State and is one of the renowned great Confucian scholars in the country. Originally, he was going to enter the officialdom of Feiyun State. However, the previous sect master invited him sincerely on several occasions, which led this elder to join the Wanxiang Sect.”

“He is not merely a Confucian, but a banner, a link connecting with Huazhang State! Angering this elder would not only shake the Confucian hearts within the sect but also potentially alter Huazhang State’s attitude…”

Meng Wu-yan’s words caused a moment of silence among the people present.

They all realized that dealing with Confucian cultivators required caution, especially the great Confucian Duanmu Zhang. A slight misstep could lead to significant losses and negatively impact the overall strategic interests of the Wanxiang Sect.

In this situation, the current Peak Master of Jianming Peak, Ling Jue-jian, suddenly spoke, “Although the Confucian cultivators within our sect are closely united, they are not without flaws.”

“Have you all forgotten… in the deepest part of the Cloud Prison, there is a prisoner named Qin De.”

“This person has long been nailed to the pillar of shame of the Confucian school. Controlling this fiend is to grasp the most painful nerve of Duanmu Zhang and even the entire Confucian group!”

“Using Qin De to control the sect’s Confucian cultivators and suppress their arrogance has great potential. It might even be possible to make Duanmu Zhang bow his head and cooperate with us.”

Ling Jue-jian appeared as a middle-aged man, his figure as slender as a sword. Although seated, his back was straight, as if poised to pierce the sky.

His cheekbones were high, his eye sockets deep, and his eyes were like quenched cold stars, constantly radiating burning ambition and scrutiny. His thin lips were pressed into a line, appearing cold and sharp.

As a sword cultivator, his words and actions were consistent. When solving problems, he took unconventional approaches, directly targeting the enemy’s weaknesses with unparalleled sharpness.

Meng Wu-yan fell into deep thought, but Tuoba Huang yelled angrily, “Enough, enough.”

“All these twists and turns! All this fussiness! It’s giving this old man a splitting headache!”

He waved his massive palm as if to sweep away all the schemes before him, a violent aura erupting, “Solve Wen Ruan-yu? Solve a bunch of pedantic Confucians? And even go to the Cloud Prison to fish out a rotten demonic Confucian as a bargaining chip? When have I, Tuoba Huang, ever been so wishy-washy in my dealings!”

“How much time will this take?”

“I’ll tell you the truth, my Old Ancestor’s birthday is just around the corner! Bai Zhi Xiancheng is perfectly suited as a birthday gift, and I, Tuoba Huang, must take this immortal city before the end of this Feiyun Grand Assembly.”

He paused deliberately, raising his massive head, his face full of tough flesh, scanning his surroundings, “Who opposes?”

Silence once again fell upon the group.

Old Ancestor Tuoba was one of the foundations of the Wanxiang Sect, a powerful cultivator at the Deification stage. His individual combat prowess alone could influence an entire cultivation state.

*Clap, clap, clap.*

A series of clear claps broke the stifling silence.

Wang Yu, the Peak Master of Danxia Peak, sat on his cloud-body avatar, applauding and praising, “Peak Master Tuoba is decisive and sweeps all before him! Old Ancestor Tuoba is a heaven-supporting pillar of our Wanxiang Sect. His grand birthday celebration should naturally be graced with a magnificent gift like Bai Zhi Xiancheng to showcase our sect’s immense prestige!”

“And using the Feiyun Grand Assembly, a moment when the world is watching, to bring this city under our command, kills two birds with one stone, spreading our sect’s name far and wide! Such spirit and plan, my Danxia Peak will definitely give its full support!”

These words immediately dispelled the anger on Tuoba Huang’s face. His bristly beard lifted slightly, and his reddish eyes were full of satisfaction. He couldn’t help but nod slightly at Wang Yu.

Wang Yu’s smile remained undiminished, but his words, like the opening and closing of an elixir furnace, introduced a new opportunity: “However—”

“Bai Zhi Xiancheng is located in the gloomy, damp and black marshlands, precisely in the watchful gap between Feiyun and Beifeng states. This is an unspoken buffer between the two states, and also a delicate balance.”

“If our sect openly and forcefully seizes it, brazenly breaking the unspoken… Beifeng State’s mighty wolf-like army could instantly raise the great banner of ‘defending the Dao and rectifying names,’ and ten thousand black-armored troops would crush the marshlands! At that time, our sect would face the wrath of an entire state!”

“Even if Beifeng State held its troops, what would be left of the Feiyun royal family’s dignity? Accusations, sanctions, even blockades of our sect’s trade routes, or even spirit veins…”

Wang Yu looked at Tuoba Huang, whose face was now as dark as iron.

Wang Yu’s voice was gentle yet each word weighed a thousand pounds, “The Old Ancestor’s birthday is likely not an auspicious time for war and bloodshed, nor is it a good opportunity to become an enemy of the world.”

Wang Yu truly lived up to his reputation as the Peak Master of Danxia Peak!

Just a moment ago, Tuoba Huang used his Deification-stage Old Ancestor to exert pressure. Now, Wang Yu’s words, in turn, leveraged Old Ancestor Tuoba to counter Tuoba Huang.

Tuoba Huang’s throat rumbled, and a fiery aura emanated from his body, yet he was speechless, leaving only a suppressed, heavy snort echoing through the clouds, causing ripples in the air.

Wang Yu’s smile remained genial as he surveyed the surroundings, “If we wish to take Bai Zhi, rather than circling the city and digging at its walls, it’s better to directly knock on the main gate.”

His voice was clear and resonant, like a spring washing away cloud-mists, as he elucidated his viewpoint: “The true crux of this situation is not Wen Ruan-yu’s stubbornness, but rather—Zhong Dao, the Hall Master of the Zhu Xie Hall!”

“Zhong Dao?” The crowd was perplexed.

The first to react was Meng Wu-yan; a sharp gleam of insight flashed in his demonic purple eyes, like a sudden burst of purple lightning in the dark night!

“Wen Ruan-yu’s backbone is tied to Duanmu Zhang’s prestige; Qin De’s person is imprisoned in the Cloud Prison! These two lines intersect, and the crucial point lies in the Zhu Xie Hall!” Wang Yu’s pace quickened, his words like pearls falling onto a plate, clear and well-organized.

“At this very moment, Yang San-yan has replaced Wen Ruan-yu in Bai Zhi Xiancheng. If we persuade Zhong Dao, then Yang San-yan, as a key figure in the Zhu Xie Hall, can immediately serve as our sect’s vanguard, to intervene in the city’s affairs!”

“Qin De, this ‘shame of the Confucian school,’ can also become a sharp blade in our hands, hanging over the heads of Duanmu Zhang and the entire Confucian group, making them full of scruples. How then could Wen Ruan-yu not bow his head?!”

Wang Yu concluded, “With Zhong Dao, we have Yang San-yan as a blade, and then Wen Ruan-yu as our vanguard. The matter of Bai Zhi Xiancheng can be accomplished.”

Having said that, he slightly cupped his hands, his cloud robes adorned with flowing red clouds, his demeanor composed and refined, fully demonstrating his insight into people, and the comprehensive and deep strategies of a peak master.

Between the sea of clouds, silence flowed.

Although Wang Yu built upon the foundations laid by others, taking it a step further, this strategy was indeed like a clear breeze dispelling mist. Even in the depths of Ling Jue-jian’s ice-cold eyes, a flicker of almost imperceptible approval passed.

Wei Ji sat at the head, his body beneath his coarse hemp Daoist robe as steady as a mountain. His pure black pupils turned to Wang Yu, his voice still calm and unruffled: “Peak Master Wang’s strategy is seasoned and prudent, planning before acting. Do any of you peak masters have objections?”

His words were like a stone thrown into a deep pool, stirring ripples.

“Seconded,” Ling Jue-jian spoke first, his voice still cold.

Tuoba Huang’s expression flickered, finally exhaling a heavy, scorching breath through his nostrils with a “Hmph!”

Although full of unwillingness, he knew that Wang Yu’s words hit the mark, and that the Old Ancestor’s birthday was of paramount importance. He could only grumble in a muffled voice, “Then let’s proceed according to this method, and quickly!”

His gaze burned at Wang Yu, the meaning unspoken—if this plan succeeded, the credit was yours; if it failed, Danxia Peak would be held accountable!

Wang Yu smiled and nodded, showing an air of complete confidence, seemingly unaffected by the threat in Tuoba Huang’s gaze.

The gazes of the crowd shifted, all choosing to bypass Meng Wu-yan.

This Deputy Peak Master of Zilei Peak, being of demon cultivator origin, was disdained by everyone present.

Everyone looked at Lu Zhen-shu, the Peak Master of Fuyong Peak, only to see his eyelids lowered, one hand holding a jade slip, the other supporting his head, appearing half-asleep, half-awake, his mind wandering far away.

“Peak Master Lu?” Wei Ji’s voice carried a hint of subtle helplessness, “Please don’t read now.”

“Hmm?” Lu Zhen-shu stirred as if waking from a dream, raising his head blankly, “Everyone… has already decided?”

Wei Ji explained the current situation, and Lu Zhen-shu waved his hand, his demeanor free and easy, “Very good, very good, just follow this prescription.”

Seeing his agreement, everyone’s gaze gathered on another person.

This female cultivator was Heng Zi-fang, the Peak Master of Baicao Peak, who had participated throughout but remained silent.

She was serene and understated, her brows lowered, her lips a pale shade like early cherry blossoms. Her eyes were peculiar—the left a deep green like ancient leaves in a dark pool, the right a flowing amber honey light.

Feeling the gaze on her, she finally lifted her eyelids, her voice clear and ethereal like mountain spring water, “Baicao Peak only concerns itself with the growth and decay of spiritual plants, not the affairs of immortal cities. All you peak masters, please proceed as you wish.”

Wei Ji’s gaze swept over the now-unanimous crowd, and he lightly tapped his clasped jade ruler, making a low, decisive sound, “Since that is the case, we will proceed according to Peak Master Wang’s strategy, focusing on Zhong Dao. Summon—the Hall Master of Zhu Xie Hall, to enter the array for discussion.”

No sooner had he finished speaking than someone suddenly spoke out to stop him, “Wait!”