Soon, the cabin doors of the Jiang Clan's dark, mountain-like flying vessel burst open with a thunderous boom. A streak of light shot down from the ship's prow, landing squarely before the raised platform at the center of the arena. As the radiance faded, a middle-aged cultivator in brocade robes was revealed — his countenance bearing an expression of sheer arrogance.
He lifted his chin slightly, his gaze sweeping across the entire venue with a contempt born of regarding them as little more than uncivilized barbarians. Infusing his voice with spiritual power, he spoke in a voice that cracked across the field like a thunderclap:
"Who here is in charge?!"
This brazen attitude instantly silenced the once-rowdy crowd.
Countless eyes turned, instinctively and in unison, toward the high platform — toward the man who had sat there all along, immovable as a mountain, his aura as deep and fathomless as the sea. The Alliance Master of the Heavenly Alliance.
Xiao Chen.
The envoy felt the weight of those stares and immediately locked onto Xiao Chen. He strode up the platform with large, purposeful steps, ignoring every Heavenly Alliance Elder and guard along the way. He walked straight up to Xiao Chen — and rather than offering any gesture of courtesy, he demanded in a tone bordering on a rebuke:
"You see a Heavenly Envoy of the Upper Realm before you — why do you not bow?!"
At these words, the crowd erupted in an uproar!
"Insolence!"
"Where did this madman come from, daring to show disrespect to the Alliance Master!"
Behind Xiao Chen, two guards clad in the standard-issue spiritual armor of the Xianling Guard flared with murderous intent. Hands flew to sword hilts as spiritual power surged around them — they were ready to seize this fool who knew not the immensity of heaven and earth!
But Xiao Chen merely raised a hand, signaling the two Xianling Guard to stand down. His expression remained calm, yet deep within his eyes, a thread of cold fury had quietly crystallized.
He was an upright and forthright man — but he was no coward to be bullied. Having served as Alliance Master of the Heavenly Alliance for years, ruling over half the Xuanying Continent, he possessed a dignity and bearing all his own.
He rose slowly to his feet, his posture as straight and unyielding as a pine. His gaze was serene yet carried an invisible weight as it settled on the envoy. His voice was not loud, yet it cut cleanly through the commotion of the entire arena, tinged with an unmistakable chill:
"Who are you people?"
"If you have come as guests to observe the tournament and exchange views on the Dao, the Heavenly Alliance will gladly open its doors and receive you with every courtesy."
His tone shifted abruptly, becoming as sharp as a blade's edge. "But if you think your pedigree entitles you to act the fool and come all this way just to die — heh — then I'm afraid you've been in seclusion so long that your wits have gone muddled. You seem to have forgotten what the words 'Heavenly Alliance' signify on the Xuanying Continent these days."
With those final words, Xiao Chen released a trace of the pressure belonging to a true top-tier powerhouse — not aimed at the crowd, but precisely targeted at the envoy alone.
The envoy felt an aura as vast and unfathomable as the ocean crash down upon him in an instant. It was as though he faced not a man, but an erupting volcano, a raging tempest of a sea! His bluster choked in his throat. The color drained from his face as he instinctively retreated half a step, his heart hammering wildly.
But then he remembered — behind him stood two titans of the Upper Realm: the Jiang Clan and Mingyue Sect! What could the leader of some mere Lower Realm sect do about it, even if he had a bit of strength? Would he truly dare to offend two Upper Realm powers simultaneously?
Steeling himself, he suppressed his racing heart and forced the anger back onto his face. He was about to launch into another tirade, invoking the names of his backers to crush these people into submission, when—
"Hold!"
A clear, urgent woman's voice rang out from the direction of the Mingyue Sect vessel.
A streak of white light descended, revealing Ji Yunshu's figure. Pale-faced and visibly conflicted, she hurried forward and positioned herself slightly in front of the envoy, blocking him. Then she looked up at Xiao Chen on the platform, struggling to keep her voice steady:
"Alliance Master Xiao, please, calm yourself. We did not come here to provoke the dignity of the Heavenly Alliance." She took a deep breath. "We have come a long way simply to... to find a loved one, lost to us for many years."
"Find a loved one?" Xiao Chen frowned, his gaze sweeping across the two massive, oppressive vessels with unmistakable skepticism. "To find a loved one, you bring this kind of display? You arrive with threats and bluster, treating my Heavenly Alliance as though it does not exist?"
Yet Xiao Chen quickly noticed something. As Ji Yunshu spoke, her gaze was not fully focused on him. Instead, it darted, again and again and uncontrollably, toward somewhere behind him — her eyes brimming with an indescribable cocktail of emotion: excitement, guilt, pain, and... anticipation?
Xiao Chen's mind raced, and something clicked. He turned slightly, following the direction of Ji Yunshu's gaze.
Behind him, at the very front of the Xianling Sacred Ground disciples' formation, a figure stepped forward.
It was Jiang Che.
Jiang Che first offered Xiao Chen a respectful bow. His voice was steady, but carried a faint, almost imperceptible weight: "Eldest Senior Brother... they are most likely here for me."
Xiao Chen looked at his junior brother — always so composed and reliable — and his eyes flickered with surprise, then understanding, before settling into unwavering support.
He was about to speak, but Jiang Che gave a slight shake of his head, his gaze resolute. "Eldest Senior Brother — please allow me to... handle this myself."
Xiao Chen studied Jiang Che deeply and said no more. He simply clapped a heavy hand onto Jiang Che's shoulder, his voice low but brimming with an unshakable conviction:
"Very well. Handle it yourself. But remember — no matter what happens, I, our Master, and all your fellow disciples — we will always stand behind you!"
A simple sentence, yet heavier than ten thousand jin.
A warmth surged through Jiang Che's chest, and he nodded firmly.
With a sect like this, what more could a man ask for?
He turned and descended the platform step by step, walking toward Ji Yunshu and the envoy in the center of the arena, whose expression was shifting unpredictably.
His gait was measured, his face calm. Only in the depths of those dark eyes could the turbulence of his emotions be glimpsed — the strangeness of a reunion after an eternity apart, the heaviness of memories too bitter to revisit, a resolute severing of the past, even a cold, appraising scrutiny. But one thing was conspicuously, entirely absent — there was no trace whatsoever of the fervent, consuming love he had once borne.
He stopped before Ji Yunshu, a few paces between them. Yet that small distance felt like an uncrossable abyss of time and bitterness.
A deathly silence fell over the arena. Every soul present held their breath, watching this sudden, extraordinary scene unfold.
Jiang Che's gaze settled on Ji Yunshu's pale, beautiful face. After a moment of silence, he spoke.
His voice was calm to the point of cruelty — like ice that had not melted in ten thousand years — carrying clearly to every ear in the venue:
"Long time no see..."
"Junior Sister Ji."
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