Before Li Xingyun and his group could catch a moment's breath, a figure stumbled out from the forest path, rolling and crawling.
It was a Miaojiang youth loyal to Chi Meng. He was injured, his face covered in tear stains and panic.
"Holy Maiden... The Holy Maiden, she..."
The youth was out of breath, his voice hoarse and distorted from fear. He pulled out a secret letter delivered by a special Gu bug from his robes and handed it to Li Xingyun with trembling hands.
A familiar, unique scent belonging to Chi Meng wafted from the letter.
Li Xingyun's heart sank heavily. He unfolded the paper.
The handwriting was messy and rushed, clearly written under extremely dangerous circumstances. The contents made his fingers turn white.
Chi Meng's father, the Gu King, had been framed and captured by the current Witch King. Chi Meng had returned only to run right into the trap. Outmatched, she was also captured.
"The Witch King captured the Holy Maiden, and he... he also announced to the public..." The youth choked back sobs, delivering an even more shocking piece of news. "The Witch King is going to marry the Holy Maiden off to a mysterious young master."
A loud buzz rang through Li Xingyun's mind.
The letter in his hand was unconsciously crumpled into a ball, his knuckles white from the force.
That quirky, eternally energetic Miaojiang girl was now imprisoned, facing the desperate situation of being used as a tool for marriage. Although Li Xingyun had ruthlessly driven her away back then, deep down, he still held a lot of affection for her.
Beside him, Zhang Zifan furrowed his brows. He stepped forward, took the crumpled letter from Li Xingyun's hand, and quickly scanned it. His expression also became incredibly solemn.
"Xingyun, this is a trap."
"In one month, it will be the appointment at the Vermilion Bird Gate in Chang'an. That is the crucial battle that will determine the true dragon of the world."
"The Witch King releasing this news at this time has an obvious purpose: to distract you, or even make you abandon the Chang'an appointment and walk right into his snare."
Lu Linxuan's face was also written with worry.
"That's right, Senior Brother. The entirety of Miaojiang is an absolute death trap, and the Witch King is ruthless. If we rashly go there, we'll likely be playing right into his hands."
Li Xingyun understood the logic.
On one side was the duel that concerned the fate of the world and his destiny. On the other was Chi Meng's life and safety.
He closed his eyes, and Chi Meng's beautiful, smiling face uncontrollably surfaced in his mind.
For him and Ji Ruxue, she had risked her life time and time again. Now that she was in trouble, if he ignored her, would he, Li Xingyun, even be human?
He suddenly opened his eyes. There was no longer a single trace of hesitation in them.
"I can't let her face this alone," he said, his voice not loud but carrying an unquestionable firmness.
"The appointment at the Vermilion Bird Gate is indeed important."
"But Chi Meng's life is more important."
"I've decided. We go to Miaojiang first to save her. Then we'll rush to the Vermilion Bird Gate!"
"Such taste."
An abrupt sigh of admiration came from the corner.
The group turned to look, only to see that Hou Qing had changed into a brand-new, flowing robe at some point. He was holding the *Sword of the Poet Immortal* manual, reading it with absolute fascination.
He looked up, his face bearing an almost fanatical appreciation.
"To risk everything for a friend and abandon an easily obtainable empire."
"Not bad! You have taste!"
He closed the manual, carefully tucked it into his robes, and stood up with elegant movements.
"Since you're going to Miaojiang to witness such a treacherous place, how could you go without me?"
"It just so happens that I've achieved initial success in my divine art, so let me test the power of the senior's sword techniques."
In Hou Qing's eyes flickered boundless worship for Ian.
"Count me in for this trip."
Meanwhile, thousands of miles away in the Miaojiang Twelve Dong.
Inside a gloomy hall, the rustling sound of crawling Gu bugs echoed endlessly.
Youchuan knelt on one knee, his head lowered as he reported to the Witch King seated high upon the throne.
The Witch King on the throne had his entire body shrouded in a voluminous black robe and shadows, revealing only a pair of eyes that gleamed with a faint green light.
He listened quietly to Youchuan's report without speaking.
After a long while, he let out a hoarse sneer.
"A mysterious swordsman?"
"It matters not."
"Miaojiang is now in my grasp."
"Whether it's Li Xingyun or some white-clad swordsman, as long as they dare to step foot on this land, they shouldn't even think about leaving alive."
Youchuan's head drooped even lower, concealing the struggle and pain in his heart.
He had witnessed Ian's godlike power with his own eyes. He knew that the Witch King's plans were nothing but a joke in the face of that absolute strength.
But for the sake of Chi Meng's safety, he could only choose to feign compliance for now and wait for the right opportunity.
Overseas, on an isolated island.
There was no sign of human habitation here.
At the highest point of the island, a figure stood quietly, letting the fierce winds whip at his black cloak. His mask was hideous and terrifying, yet the aura he exuded seemed to blend seamlessly with the world around him.
This person was none other than the Commander of the Buliangren, Yuan Tiangang.
His years of scheming were about to reach their final conclusion.
He was about to set off for the location of the Longquan Treasure to personally witness Li Xingyun's choice.
Before leaving, he suddenly acted on a whim.
"Men."
"Cast a hexagram for this Commander."
"Divine my future."
Several Buliangren responsible for divination did not dare to delay. They immediately brought out tortoise shells and copper coins, lit an incense burner, and began to deduce the heavenly secrets.
However, as soon as the hexagram was cast, everyone's faces instantly turned deathly pale.
The copper coins were scattered in disorder.
The cracks on the tortoise shell presented a chaotic mess, showing no predetermined trajectory whatsoever.
"Cast it again," the Commander ordered, his voice remaining steady.
A second time.
A third time.
Every single result was the same; absolutely nothing could be divined.
The heavenly secrets were in chaos.
All trajectories regarding the future seemed to be shrouded in a layer of thick fog, making it impossible to glimpse even the slightest detail.
In three hundred years, this was the first time such a thing had happened.
The Commander slowly raised his hand and took off his mask.
Beneath that mask was a hideous, terrifying face, yet it carried a look that had seen through the vicissitudes of the world.
"It seems the chessboard has become uncontrollable."
This variable was so powerful that it could even obscure the heavenly secrets and disrupt the grand scheme he had laid out for three hundred years.
He could no longer wait.
"Summon all the Buliangren in the world."
"I want to go see for myself exactly who is disrupting the chessboard."
With the Commander of the Buliangren emerging from seclusion early, undercurrents surged throughout the world.
And the center of the storm, Miaojiang, drew everyone's attention.
Under the secret manipulation of the fake Li Xingyun, experts from the Mobei Khitan, envoys from the Western Regions' Zoroastrian Cult, as well as forces from the Tongwen Manor and various regional warlords, all began to converge on this mysterious land.
A massive net targeting Li Xingyun, and also targeting that mysterious white-clad man, was slowly spreading open.
None of them knew.
High above the tens of thousands of mountains in Miaojiang, amidst the sea of clouds.
Three figures were looking down at all of this with great interest.
Ian still maintained his lazy demeanor, even conjuring a tea set out of thin air and leisurely sipping fragrant tea.
Li Bai, having returned from the dead, had long since transcended worldly attachments. Watching the various factions rushing about like ants below, he only felt that the affairs of the world were like a game of chess, ever-changing and unpredictable.
Only Li Chunfeng, the divine calculator of the Great Tang, had a constantly changing expression at this moment.
His fingers were rapidly calculating within his sleeves, and a fine layer of sweat had even seeped out on his forehead.
"The things I could barely deduce before, I can't see them at all now!"