At first, he had planned to use the Blood Nightmare he'd planted in Li Xun's heart to teach the brat a painful lesson. But to his surprise, this insignificant whelp had somehow ended up carrying an extremely powerful protective artifact—and before he realized it, he'd taken an unexpected loss.
That alone would've been tolerable.
In his mind, Li Xun was bound to return empty-handed, only to coincidentally bump into Yin Wanderer, get bewitched by that demoness, and blurt out his whereabouts like a lovestruck fool.
That would've given him every reason to kill the useless fool. Yin Wanderer certainly wouldn't pick a fight over a nobody.
But then… Li Xun had confidently whipped out the Lingxi Art—and that completely threw off his rhythm.
It wasn't like he actually cared about Lingxi Art, or any other "Ling-something" nonsense. If he wanted to kill Li Xun, he would. Without blinking. But with Yin Wanderer right there, he had to reconsider.
Not because he feared her.
But because if they really came to blows, everything he had painstakingly set up over the years—his webs, his schemes—would be destroyed in an instant. That was a price he couldn't afford.
In that moment, he wished Li Xun were lying. But as he stared into those terrified yet clear eyes—unflinching, free of any deceit—Blood Wanderer realized that, on this point, Li Xun wasn't making up a single word.
But… how could this be possible? Why had he sent Li Xun to spy on the Lingxi Art in the first place, if not because—
His thoughts were cut short by the faintly amused glint in Yin Wanderer's eyes.
Not good. That whore is up to something!
In the realm of Tongxuan, the Three Wanderers were equally famous, equally powerful—and equally cunning.
Well, not quite. Jade Wanderer was proud, rarely resorting to schemes. Blood Wanderer had the mind for trickery but not the finesse. Yin Wanderer, on the other hand… she thrived on manipulation. If there was one person in the world you didn't want playing the long game with you, it was her.
And he knew better than to underestimate someone like her.
It only took an instant for him to reassess. He didn't know where his plan had gone awry, but he could see now that Yin Wanderer had seen through a key part of it. If he kept forcing things, he would gain nothing—and probably lose everything.
But Blood Wanderer was no ordinary man. As one of the world's rare grandmaster-level figures, he could pick things up and put them down with ease, decisive in his heart, never dragging matters on. He let out a long laugh. "Ha! Who would've thought—a pampered little prince like you, actually managed to run circles around the entire Mingxin Sect… Excellent! Truly excellent!"
He said it like praise, but every word weighed heavy on Li Xun, who stood trembling.
And with Blood Wanderer's booming voice, it wasn't just this courtyard—half the Fu prince's manor probably had heard every word.
Li Xun could already feel the intensely complicated gaze Li Xin was casting at him from a distance.
But this was no time to be distracted. He quickly pulled himself together and stood at attention.
Blood Wanderer, however, had lost interest in him, turning to Yin Wanderer instead.
"Yin Beauty gracing this lowly courtyard… such honor. Shall we go inside for a drink?"
Yin Wanderer gave a delicate smile. "Just tea will do. I really am changing tastes lately."
Blood Wanderer roared with laughter, swept his sleeve, and turned to go.
Li Xun jumped, then—Heaven knows where the courage came from—blurted out: "Master, the Blood Nightmare—"
Blood Wanderer stopped in his tracks. A flash of malice surged in his bronze-bell eyes, instantly silencing Li Xun's next words.
But instead of lashing out, he gave a sneering laugh. "What's the rush? The Blood Nightmare has been in you for nine years. Bathed in your blood essence day and night—it's fused with your flesh and bones. Removing it now would be like digging out your heart. Want to try that?"
Li Xun shook his head furiously.
Blood Wanderer sneered. "Then shut it. I said I'd deal with it—I don't go back on my word. Save the whining."
His final words rang sharp, leaving Li Xun too cowed to lift his head.
Blood Wanderer said nothing more. With a nod toward Yin Wanderer, the two of them disappeared behind the rock formation.
Li Xun was left standing there, unsure whether to follow.
As he hesitated, the sound of armor clanking suddenly grew clearer. He turned—and saw rows of fully armed guards, torches in hand, pouring through the archway, surrounding the garden in a tightening formation. Dozens of torches lit the space like it was daylight.
On the surrounding heights, archers had already taken position. Swords were drawn. Arrows nocked. The killing intent in the air was unmistakable.
What now—going to kill me?
Li Xun looked around. He was completely unarmed. A cold tightness coiled in his chest—not quite fear, not like what he felt with Blood Wanderer, but close.
Just in case, he quietly activated his inner breath and, unnoticed by the soldiers, extended a finger into the air and drew a few restrictive formations on the ground, enclosing himself within them.
Then Li Xin's voice rang out: "Daoist Li—would you mind explaining who that man in my garden is? What's his relation to the National Preceptor? I don't recall ever sheltering such a person. To enter without permission—either thief or spy. I expect an answer!"
No, Li Xun thought. What you want is a legitimate excuse to strike.
Li Xun could see it clearly—and what he understood even more was that this wasn't a excuse to fight honorably, but a pretext for suicide.
No matter what, he absolutely couldn't just stand by and watch his own father walk into certain death.
So he gave a bitter smile, spread his hands, and said: "Shouldn't a prince possess the breadth of a prince? These two are masters from beyond the mortal world. They've never concerned themselves with worldly rules. If there was any offense… it surely wasn't intentional."
A long silence followed.
Then, the soldiers in front slowly parted, forming a narrow path. Li Xin stepped forward with steady pace, stopping twenty paces from Li Xun.
His voice was calmer now: "Daoist Li, you're new to the capital. I won't hold that against you. But today I must deal with this trespasser. Blades don't discriminate. Jade may shatter with stone. If you're smart—you know what to do."
This isn't 'jade shattering with stone'—it's more like a moth throwing itself into the flame, isn't it?
Li Xun didn't even have the strength to force a bitter smile anymore. Looking at Li Xin's confident expression, he knew there was no point in saying anything further. He sighed silently, gathered the flow of true breath inside him, and finally activated the restriction formations on the ground.
In that instant, a cool breeze swept through the garden—
A series of bowstrings snapped like the clumsy plucking of a bad zither player, mixed with the pained cries of a few soldiers and the faint clatter of arrows hitting the ground. The sound was eerie, almost absurd.
Just during that brief breeze, dozens of heavy bows positioned above snapped cleanly in the middle! The deadliest weapons of war—reduced to worthless scraps in the blink of an eye.
The whole place went silent. Everyone's expression changed.
"Demon magic!" someone shouted. The cry was like a muffled thunderclap, exploding in the crowd and instantly causing panic. The soldiers in front instinctively stepped back half a pace, which only made things more chaotic.
The tense atmosphere quickly unraveled into turmoil.
The messy noise of the crowd filled Li Xun's ears—and to him, it was like music from the heavens.
No one could have guessed the sheer exhilaration surging in his chest. When he, as if guided by divine will, cut through fifty-three bowstrings in perfect sync with the wind patterns—effortlessly—it was a clear sign that his control over his inner true breath had moved beyond the basics and reached an advanced level of understanding. And his mastery in the art of restriction patterns was even more profound.
But that wasn't even the best part.
What truly thrilled him were the looks—hundreds of shocked, frightened, and bewildered eyes staring his way. A giant web of gazes, each strand tightly tugging on his most sensitive nerves. Every twitch sent a jolt of euphoria rushing through him.
In that moment, he felt... taller. He gazed at these mortals like they were beneath his feet. He could almost imagine reaching out with still-clumsy fingers and gently drawing them across their necks...
A gust of wind passed by, sweeping away that intoxicating high.
When he looked back at Li Xin, the helplessness from earlier had faded, replaced by a hint of sharpness. "Your Highness," he said, "there's really no need to be so anxious."
Li Xin said nothing, but in his mind, he was frantically reassessing the destructive potential of this so-called 'kung fu'.
He was a prince—he'd seen his share of martial experts. But never, not once, had he heard of someone cutting bowstrings from dozens of paces away without moving a finger. This wasn't martial arts anymore... This was something else entirely.
Now he realized—his earlier judgment of Yin Wanderer had been completely off.
Maybe it was because of his late father, the old Prince Fu, who'd been duped by so-called cultivators. Li Xin had always assumed all of them were frauds—scammers who tricked both his father and son.
But now, it was crystal clear: this woman was no charlatan using illusions, or even beauty, to seduce the emperor. Even if she wasn't truly the "living immortal" she claimed to be, she was still a demonic cultivator of immense power!
Even if he couldn't bring her to his side, she absolutely must not become his enemy.
That realization hit hard. And with it came the awareness of just how reckless his earlier actions had been.
Li Xin wasn't one to hesitate. Now that he saw a way out, he immediately took it.
"So that's how it is... It seems I've truly misjudged the situation."
He made a gesture, signaling the armored guards to back off, then stepped forward himself. "I didn't understand the temperament of someone like the National Preceptor," he said to Li Xun. "I may have been a bit brash—please, I hope the Preceptor can forgive me... Daoist Li, please help me convey my apology."
Li Xun could only offer a bitter smile. Whether or not Yin Wanderer would forgive—well, that was up to her, not something he could guarantee. Li Xin was assuming way too much.
But what could he say to his father? At this point, all he could do was silently hope that Yin Wanderer would be magnanimous enough to let it go.
He didn't dare say more—just gave a vague nod.
Li Xin noticed that too. He saw the tension in his son's expression and immediately gained a better sense of what was going on in Li Xun's mind.
When those two cultivators had spoken earlier, their voices weren't exactly quiet... but somehow, the words had sounded blurry and indistinct—impossible to catch clearly.
Still, Li Xin had clearly seen the mix of awe and fear in Li Xun's face. And he also realized—the relationship between Li Xun and those two demonic cultivators was likely very complicated.
Li Xin wasn't a fool. The young Daoist's odd attitude, Yin Wanderer's casual yet suggestive tone, and even the faint echoes still drifting from the garden... It all pointed to one possibility. And though his rational mind held back, deep down, instinctively, he already believed it.
And if that's true... this couldn't have come at a worse time.
Li Xin gave the young Taoist a long, complex look. Seventy years old... or maybe just seventeen, huh?
"Daoist Li," he said at last, "it's late and the wind's getting cold. How about joining me inside for a cup of hot tea?"
Li Xun's heart skipped a beat. He almost agreed on instinct—but then remembered the two mysterious cultivators behind him, and all his courage drained away.
He was about to decline, when suddenly, he felt a push on his back. The strength was light but perfectly placed. Even with his steady footing, he still stumbled half a step forward.
Smart as he was, he immediately understood their intent. Strange, yes—but somehow, he felt grateful.
Now, there was no reason to say no.
He took a deep breath, gave a respectful bow. "Then I shall respectfully accept your offer," he said.