Liu Yao sat nearby, his face dark with gloom, a murderous aura coiling around him. His external injuries had mostly healed, but his internal wounds were still severe. Even getting angry could aggravate them, which made everything feel unbearably stifling.
His jaw clenched, voice bitter and cold. "That wretched woman… lied to me for all those years…"
"Hmph. I told you already. Women like her, born into cultivation clans, would never look at someone like us. But you refused to believe it," Liu Yiyi snapped, her face twisted with anger. Just remembering the scene he made filled her with second-hand shame.
Liu Yao's expression changed. He couldn't help but shoot back, "If it weren't for your fake match scheme, do you think I'd have ended up like this?"
The fire between them ignited again. Neither backed down. Each believed the other's mistake was worse. It took a long while for the anger to burn out. Once they finally calmed down, they sat again, gritting their teeth as they began to plan.
"We took a massive loss this time. She has to pay."
"But something's off about her cultivation…"
"So what, you're just going to let her go?"
"Of course not! I'll make her beg for forgiveness on her knees!"
—
Gu Qingyuan had recovered for the most part. Ye Chuxue finally breathed a sigh of relief. Having repaid her master's kindness, she began preparing to leave Wentiān Sect.
Two days ago, when she emerged from seclusion and learned of the sect's recent downfall, she was stunned. But after the shock passed, she couldn't help but feel… satisfied.
A place like Wentiān Sect, so cold and unfeeling, was bound to collapse sooner or later. She imagined the Sect Master's face when it all happened, and the thought made her secretly giddy. He had left her to die back then. He deserved this.
She packed her belongings and was just about to leave when the bell rang across the sect. Not the mourning bell—this was the warning bell, only sounded when something major had happened. Its low, oppressive toll echoed through every corner of Wentiān Sect.
The disciples all froze in alarm.
"What's happening? Is the sect going to collapse again?"
"Why ring the bell now? What's going on?"
"Come on, let's head to the main square. The Sect Master must have something to say."
"Hurry! Something must have happened!"
Everyone rushed toward the square, voices filled with confusion and worry.
Bai Yang and Li Ruo appeared outside the cultivation chamber as soon as they heard the bell.
"Master's still in seclusion. Should we disturb her for this?" Bai Yang frowned slightly. He didn't want to disrupt her cultivation for nothing. He had been reflecting a lot recently. Without Ye Chuxue's influence, he could see clearly how ridiculous his past behavior had been. His master hadn't distanced herself because of Li Ruo—he had no right to blame her.
Even so, the gap between him and Li Ruo had become too wide. They barely maintained polite formalities now. In truth, their relationship was worse than that of ordinary sectmates.
Li Ruo however, suddenly pulled out a talisman. "Master said that if anything happened to the sect, we had to notify her."
"No matter how Wentiān Sect had treated her, Master still cared deeply about its survival. She was too kindhearted."
Li Ruo tightened her grip on the message talisman and sent it through, anxiously waiting for a response.
Bai Yang, watching the whole thing, felt a hint of jealousy. His face paled slightly, and he quickly turned away. He reminded himself that he still had time. Slowly, he would win back his master's favor.
They stood in silence at the chamber entrance. Three breaths later, a pulse of spiritual energy rippled out. Their Master had emerged from seclusion.
"Master, I think something's really happened to the sect!" Li Ruo rushed forward, face turned upward.
Song Wanníng's eyes darkened slightly. Her expression turned cold. "Understood. Let's go."
Her tone was serious. She immediately led the two of them toward the square. At the same time, Lu Nanfeng finally returned to the sect, wind-swept and dust-covered from the long journey.
As Song Wanníng's second disciple, he had been away from the sect for a long time, but news of its demotion had reached even him. The moment he arrived at the gates, the bell began to toll. His face turned ghostly pale.
Without pause, he rushed toward the square.
—
Less than half a quarter-hour later, the square was packed. The Sect Master stood at the front with all the Nascent Soul elders, faces grim.
Even Gu Qingyuan, who had only recently recovered, made an appearance. That alone showed how serious things were.
The disciples' hearts tightened. Seeing this lineup, they couldn't help but think of what had happened just days ago.
Lu Nanfeng pushed through the crowd, panting, until he reached the platform and took his place behind Song Wanníng.
"Master, I've returned," he said, still catching his breath. His eyes flicked toward Ye Chuxue. Just remembering what he had done made his face flush slightly. He quickly composed himself.
"Mn," Song Wanníng responded faintly.
He had been away a long time. She had been too busy to bother with him.
Suddenly, Lu Nanfeng blinked. "Where's... An Ze?" He scanned the crowd, but An Ze was nowhere to be seen.
Bai Yang turned and replied, "He went down the mountain for training. Still hasn't come back." It was strange. An Ze had been gone for quite a while and hadn't sent any word. That had never happened before. They would need to send a message later, just to be safe.
"Quiet!" The Sect Master raised his hand. His voice was heavy, silencing the whispers across the square.
"The reason I've gathered you all here today is because something has happened in the cultivation world. A massive beast tide has broken out in the south. The beasts are attacking the border of our territory in large numbers. Every sect, clan, and family must send people to suppress the threat."
"What? A beast tide?!"
"Those southern beasts only stayed quiet for a few hundred years, and now they're at it again?"
"No way. Please don't assign me to the front lines—I'd get torn apart in an instant!"
Murmurs of fear spread through the crowd. Beast tides were deadly. Many cultivators died during them, but they also created opportunities for those who survived.
The cultivation world was divided into four factions—beastkind, demons, spirits, and humans.
Over tens of thousands of years, conflicts and power struggles had never ceased. Most of the time, though, the borders remained stable, and the factions kept to themselves.
But now, the beastkin were launching a full assault, trying to seize the humans' resources.
Of course they couldn't sit back and do nothing.
Humans and beastkind had always been natural enemies. In the north, there were some beasts raised as spirit pets, but outside of that, most wild beasts and humans fought on sight.
Everyone cultivated to survive, but their paths were different. It wasn't a matter of right or wrong.
"A beast tide…" Bai Yang's brows knit together. He had only heard of them in stories. He never thought he would actually see one.
Sitting just ahead, Song Wanníng's gaze darkened.
"So it had come again."
In her previous life, during the beast tide, the Song family was sabotaged and lost over three hundred disciples. The cost had been staggering.
Meanwhile, the so-called male lead had obtained a divine beast and, alongside the heroine, stole the spotlight on the battlefield.