The eastern gate of Donglin rose like both a wall and an invitation. The towers stood taller than Yanshen remembered, the banners more colorful, and the flow of people seemed endless.To the world, only ten years had passed.For him, in the Abyss, it had been thousands.
He walked beneath the shadow of the walls, his gaze sweeping across the city as if studying a painting redrawn in strange colors.
The customs had changed.Where once commoners revered cultivators as gods, now there was fear and resentment. Merchants hurried to lower their heads when robed disciples passed by, but soon after exchanged bitter glances.
The clothes were not the same either. Fine fabrics, colorful ribbons, sect insignias embroidered even on the garments of peasants — marks of dominion, not devotion.
Even common guards carried weapons etched with simple runes. On every corner, vendors sold cheap talismans as though selling fruit. Power had become a commodity.
Yanshen walked in silence, each step steady, the Veil of a Thousand Absences hiding his presence. But he felt the city was different. The laughter in the markets and the music in the alleys were only surface; beneath it all was a veiled tension, as if Donglin were a porcelain bowl about to crack.
The New Danger
The sun was setting when peace broke apart.A muffled crack echoed, the ground shook, and a dark rift split open in the central square.
From it emerged Shadow Beasts — creatures with twisted limbs and torn mouths, born from a spiritual instability that heralded the coming great event.
Chaos erupted: stalls overturned, screams filled the air, guards fell lifeless.
Against the wall, two figures were cornered.Yu Meilin and Ling Xiyan — the young women Yanshen had encountered on the road. Still weakened by their wounds, they had no strength to fight.
The shadows closed in.Yanshen moved.
No shout, no flamboyant technique. Only firm steps.The first beast fell to a single palm strike.The second turned to dust before the cold sweep of his arm.Another lunged at the girls — it was crushed into the ground beneath his foot.
When the fissure sealed and silence returned, Donglin lay in ruins. Meilin and Xiyan still trembled, but they lived. Yanshen said nothing. He only gave them a brief, distant glance and vanished into the tumult.
Later, hidden in a quiet alley, the two supported each other.
— He appeared again… — murmured Ling Xiyan, still gasping. — As if he knew exactly where to be.
Yu Meilin did not answer at once. Her eyes followed the direction where Yanshen had disappeared.
— He wasn't like the other cultivators, — Xiyan pressed on. — No shouts, no techniques to impress. Just precision. As if fighting were nothing at all.
Meilin touched her chest.— Banal or not… he saved us.
Xiyan glanced at her sideways, raising a brow.— Meilin… that look… don't tell me you already…
The blush betrayed more than any word.
That night, in a wooden inn by the marketplace, the two saw Yanshen again, crossing the courtyard in silence.
— He's here, — whispered Meilin, her voice almost trembling.— Then let's speak with him, — replied Xiyan, resolute.
They found him in the hall. Yanshen was preparing to leave, but Xiyan stopped him:— At least accept a dinner. It is our gratitude.
He hesitated, measured them, and nodded.
Seated at a simple table, under the glow of candles, words came more easily.
— Last time we didn't have the chance to talk properly, — said Xiyan. — You know my name, but not my story. I am the daughter of a Donglin scholar. I was admitted to the Frozen Lotus Sect, but I did not stay. It was not my place.
Meilin continued, her voice softer:— My family owns a silk workshop. I was never accepted by the sects. What little I know, I learned from travelers who passed through our home.
Then she lifted her eyes to Yanshen:— And you? Where do you come from?
His silence weighed heavier than any answer.— From a place where time does not flow as it does here.
Xiyan smiled, teasing:— Too poetic. Or simply someone who doesn't wish to be found.
Meilin did not press further. But within her, his name — Long Yanshen — had already become a flame.
At the stroke of midnight, Donglin filled with torches and banners. The entire city gathered at the gates to witness the impossible: the arrival of the Seven Sects of Xunhai.
Heavy caravans crossed the darkness, standards gleaming under the moonlight.Crimson lightning heralded the Crimson Thunder Sect.Bronze bells of the Eternal Mountain rang by themselves.Water mirrors reflected the impossible for the Celestial Mirror Sect.Shadows slithered around the Veil of Darkness Sect.Strings thrummed in the air for the Hundred Voices Sect.The ground rang beneath the weight of the Stoneheart Sect.And the golden fire of the Solar Breath Sect lit up the sky.
When their leaders stepped into Donglin, laughter ceased. Even the wind hesitated.The entire continent seemed to breathe through that city.
In the midst of the crowd, Yanshen watched in silence.And he knew:the true confrontation was only beginning.