"Enough playing now. I still have matters to attend to later."
Han Yue reached out, captured Xiao Jietian's hand, and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth.
The two quickly bathed away the sweat and lingering heat from their earlier sparring. Their bodies had grown sticky from exertion; the warm spring water soon washed away every trace of fatigue.
After changing into fresh robes, they left Xiao Jietian's palace together.
"Yes—yes—yes! Move that one over there!"
As Han Yue arrived at the relocation site of the Han Clan, she heard two crisp, commanding little voices ringing out.
Xiao Meng and Xiao Ling stood atop a massive crate, small hands on hips, directing the moving clansmen with the imperious air of tiny generals.
"Why are the two of you here?" Han Yue stepped up behind them and gently ruffled their heads.
"Mother Yue'er!" Xiao Ling immediately straightened like a soldier at attention. "We weren't causing trouble—we helped a lot!"
Xiao Meng nodded vigorously beside her, eyes bright with expectation of praise.
Han Yue naturally indulged them, lavishing both girls with warm words of commendation.
Their little faces instantly blossomed into delighted crescents, eyes curving into happy slits.
"Very well, but do not stand up there any longer—it is not safe." Han Yue lifted them down, one in each arm.
Xiao Ling secretly thought to herself: With Meng Meng and me at our current strength, a fall from this height would be nothing more than a gentle landing. Yet she wisely kept silent.
There existed a particular category of danger known as "Mother believes it is dangerous," and no amount of reasoning could overturn such a decree.
"Off you go and play—but be careful, understand?" Han Yue set them gently on the ground, gazing at them with eyes full of tender light.
"Mwah~ We're going to play now! Goodbye, Mother Yue'er~"
After planting quick kisses on her cheeks, the two little girls skipped away hand in hand, laughter trailing behind them like silver bells.
Neither Xiao Jietian nor Han Yue felt the slightest worry for their safety.
Hidden within Xiao Ling's sleeve was the Two-Headed Fire Spirit Serpent, ever watchful. Moreover, with their authority in the Eternal Heaven Small World, the slightest danger would instantly return them to the safety of the Eternal Heaven Palace.
...
At the same moment, on the distant border of the Northern Territories of the Central Plains—near the frontier with the heartland—lay an immense mountain range whose peaks towered far higher than the surrounding lands.
This was none other than the Wind-Thunder Mountain Range, seat of the Wind-Thunder Eastern Pavilion and the single richest vein of wind-and-thunder energy in the entire Northern Territories. For any cultivator of the lightning attribute, it was a sacred ground of legend.
From deep within the range came intermittent roars of heavenly thunder that shook the soul.
At the very core—where wind and thunder energies converged most densely—rose a solitary, awe-inspiring peak.
From its midsection upward the mountain was perpetually shrouded in churning black clouds shot through with ceaseless silver lightning.
Across its slopes grew groves of enormous silver trees, each branch constantly discharging arcs of electricity that fed into the roiling thunderheads above.
This peak was called Thunder Mountain, and atop it stood the grand headquarters of the Wind-Thunder Eastern Pavilion.
A colossal silver tower dominated the summit, its entire surface crawling with living lightning that lent it an aura of terrifying majesty.
On the tower's highest floor, a man who appeared to be in his forties or fifties sat upon a throne carved from silverheart wood.
Tall and imposing, he wore a long silver robe embroidered with intricate lightning patterns. A wisp of silver-white beard adorned his chin, lending him an air of ancient authority.
This was none other than Thunder Venerable, Supreme Pavilion Master of the entire Wind-Thunder Pavilion alliance.
Yet at this moment, his expression was darker than the thunderclouds outside.
In his hand he held a special scroll of transmission paper; the words upon it caused his brow to furrow deeply.
"Fei Tian, that utter fool… how did he manage to provoke two Dou Zun? Has he sat too long as Northern Pavilion Master and truly begun to believe himself an untouchable local hegemon?"
Having lived for countless years and established his name long ago, Thunder Venerable was no stranger to the true depths of the Central Plains.
He felt no particular surprise at the sudden emergence of two Dou Zun. His only concern was whether he could withstand two experts of unknown cultivation should they come seeking vengeance.
Yet he had never been overly anxious.
After all, his personal disciple belonged to the Heavenly Demon Phoenix Clan.
Just then the heavy doors slowly opened.
A woman clad in seven-colored silks glided inside and stopped a respectful distance away.
"Hm? Qing'er, why have you come?" Thunder Venerable looked up at his prized disciple, Feng Qing'er.
"Master… has someone from our Wind-Thunder Pavilion offended a power we should never have touched?" Feng Qing'er asked, her expression faintly troubled.
That very morning, while in peaceful cultivation, she had received a secret missive from her clan—one that even carried veiled reprimands directed at her.
"Qing'er, what do you mean?" Thunder Venerable asked in confusion.
Feng Qing'er briefly relayed the contents of the letter—omitting, of course, the part where her clan elders had chided her personally.
When she finished, Thunder Venerable felt his scalp prickle with sudden cold.
"The Gu Clan you speak of… is it the same Gu Clan from the Ancient Eight Clans you once mentioned?" A last thread of hope lingered in his voice.
"Precisely so. And the directive came personally from the Young Master of the Gu Clan." Feng Qing'er gazed at her master. "Master… do you know what has happened?"
Thunder Venerable's frame actually trembled.
The Young Master of the Gu Clan—that was the direct heir of the Gu Clan Patriarch, the next supreme ruler in line.
The message Feng Qing'er conveyed carried only one unmistakable meaning:
If any member of the Heavenly Demon Phoenix Clan dared to act against those two individuals, it would be regarded as an act of war by the Heavenly Demon Phoenix Clan against the Gu Clan itself.
When Xun'er issued that command, Gu Yuan had tacitly approved it.
After all, Xiao Jietian's talent was worth any investment. A youth who lacked any Dou Di bloodline yet possessed such terrifying cultivation at his age… such a prodigy was beyond priceless.
Gu Yuan was ever a man who acted solely according to profit and interest.
...
Moments ago Thunder Venerable had still felt secure in his connections.
What did mere strength matter? In the vast world, it was always connections that reigned supreme.
Now everything had changed.
The opponent's backing utterly crushed his own.
Thunder Venerable's hands and feet turned icy; cold sweat broke across his brow.
"Qing'er… take a look at this. Then you will understand." With a flicker of Dou Qi he sent the scroll floating toward her.
Feng Qing'er caught it and read in silence.
"Master… if I am not mistaken, it is indeed them."
Thunder Venerable released a long, bitter sigh.
"Alas… we can only take one step at a time now."
In that moment he very nearly wanted to storm down to the Northern Pavilion and personally throttle Fei Tian.
"This disciple cannot offer Master any real assistance," Feng Qing'er said quietly, clenching her small fists, "but when the time comes, I will do everything in my power to mediate."
For the first time she felt such crushing helplessness.
Moreover, the scroll had clearly stated that both individuals appeared astonishingly young.
Yet Feng Qing'er refused to believe they were truly youths.
If they were… then what did that make of her own so-called genius?
...
That very day, a series of urgent edicts flew outward from the Thunder Tower of the Wind-Thunder Eastern Pavilion.
The entire Wind-Thunder Pavilion alliance was thrown into motion.
The whole of Wind-Thunder Mountain Range entered a state of strict martial law.
For a time, an atmosphere of dread and apprehension hung over the Eastern Pavilion.
Most disciples and ordinary elders remained bewildered, unsure what calamity had befallen their sect.
Only a small circle of high-ranking elders knew the truth.
One of the foremost directives was addressed directly to Fei Tian:
Seal the Northern Pavilion completely.
Should the other party arrive at your gates, stabilize them at all costs. Reconcile by whatever means necessary. Report immediately the moment contact is made.