Saying Li Xun wasn't nervous would be a lie. But after so many encounters, he'd at least mastered the art of appearing composed. He bowed and greeted the two figures before him.
"Master, Aunt-Master—do you have any instructions?"
Hearing him speak so smoothly, Yin Wanderer's lips curved slightly and turned to look at Blood Wanderer.
From his wide sleeves, Blood Wanderer drew out a piece of silk parchment. As he unfurled it in the breeze, densely packed crimson characters appeared.
"If you want to stay alive," he sneered, "you'd best pay very close attention to what's written on it."
With that, he released the silk. It fluttered softly on the wind before landing in Li Xun's hands.
Li Xun glanced at it—the text was arcane, filled with profound phrases on cultivation. Clearly, it was an advanced technique. His heart stirred with confusion.
"With this Blood God Child," Yin Wanderer spoke gently, "your status as his disciple is now formally sealed. This is the origin of your master's Blood Demon Heart Transformation Art…"
Li Xun's eyes widened in shock. He turned instinctively toward Blood Wanderer, but the man's icy stare forced him to lower his gaze. His hand trembled uncontrollably as he held the silk.
Blood God Child? How could it be the Blood God Child?
Who in the vast Tongxuan Realm hadn't heard of this notorious demonic technique was infamous. Whether it was the so-called undying Blood Demon Body or the most criticized Blood Wraith Clone, they were all terrible techniques that stopped children from crying.
Blood Wanderer had used it as a foundation to create his own fearsome variation—Blood Demon Heart Transformation—hailed as the most terrifying cultivation method in nearly ten millennia.
In terms of value, the Blood God Sutra was nearly on par with the legendary Netherworld Record.
And now, it was in his hands?
Of course, it couldn't be the complete version. But even a fragment shouldn't be something Blood Wanderer would hand over like discarded waste!
Put plainly—a weasel offering New Year's greetings to a chicken? Nothing good could come of it.
A setup! this must be a setup!
Li Xun's palms were slick with sweat. Fearing he'd damage the ink, he quickly composed himself, carefully folded the silk, and tucked it away in his robes before bowing deeply in gratitude.
Blood Wanderer responded only with a cold, mocking chuckle, deepening Li Xun's unease.
By now, Li Xin and Li Cong had arrived. Blood Wanderer didn't spare them a glance. He turned and left, his blood-red robes flickering twice in the darkness before vanishing.
With Blood Wanderer gone, Li Xun felt a small wave of relief—after all, he had gotten through this hurdle. But the unfathomable Yin Wanderer's around him still made it hard for him to fully relax.
Then she spoke: "In the days to come, your master and I will be in seclusion, studying some techniques. We won't be seeing outsiders. If anyone comes looking, you'll handle it. With your abilities, you should be able to manage such mundane matters just fine."
That was a blatant lie told with eyes wide open! Someone comes calling? Who dares disturb a National Preceptor except maybe the Emperor? And me? Handle it? What qualifications do I have to act in her stead? Those cheap conjuring tricks I performed today?
Li Xun wasn't deluded. He immediately became anxious and opened his mouth, ready to protest, but a single calm glance from Yin Wanderer froze the words in his throat. Swallowing his objections, he bowed in stiff acquiescence.
Yin Wanderer cast a glance at Prince Li Xin, gave him the barest nod of greeting, and then turned back to Li Xun. "You and His Highness seem to be of the same clan. You get along well. When you're free, you should visit often."
The meaning was obvious. That tense armed confrontation in the garden earlier? Everyone would now pretend it never happened. Smiles all around. Nothing but harmony and goodwill.
And with that, the National Preceptor's visit ended. The host, having been thoroughly sidelined, put on his most sincere smile and personally escorted her to the gates, watching as she disappeared into the night with his long-lost son.
Li Xin and Li Cong stood silently at the gate for a while.
"Tell the guards around the National Preceptor's residence to pull back," Li Xin finally spoke, quietly. "There's no point keeping them there."
Li Cong's eyes gleamed in the dark. He looked at his father. "About Brother… should we tell the Dowager Consort?" he asked softly.
Li Xin gave his son a sidelong glance. "How can we hide it from her?" he replied mildly. "Just make sure the servants in the manor stay in line. Even if word gets out, it's nothing we need to worry about."
Not the answer Li Cong had hoped for. He felt a bit unwilling and his lips parted to speak again, but Li Xin gave him no chance, as he had already turned and walked back inside, leaving only a vague silhouette behind of his retreating back.
....
In the months that followed, the idle crowds of Songjing City had found themselves with a few intriguing new topics to chat about. Aside from the Firecloud that stretched for a thousand miles covering the whole sky and blotting out the sun, the heavenly wrath strike on Tiandu Peak, and other strange occurrences, what had really caught their attention was the sudden rise of the "Young National Preceptor," who seemed to enjoy particular favor from the emperor.
According to rumor, this Young National Preceptor shared the same surname as the current Son of Heaven and was said to be the personal disciple of the emperor's most beloved and mysterious female National Preceptor. He had mastered the arts of immortals, having received the true transmission of her teachings. What's more, he was known for his youthful appearance, striking looks, and elegant demeanor — looking every bit the graceful young man, without a trace of age on his face.
Unlike his reclusive and mysterious master, however, this Young National Preceptor, Daoist Li, was far more approachable to the general public. In recent days, many had seen him roaming the capital, side by side with princes, noble heirs, and court officials, enjoying the city's pleasures — very socially active.
Because of this, rumors about the Young National Preceptor evolved constantly—every day a new version.
Compared to the increasingly far-fetched tales surrounding the official Imperial Preceptor, these stories about the Young Preceptor seem far more believable.
Ever since Yin Wanderer casually tossed aside her responsibilities and went into seclusion, Li Xun had, in effect, become her representative in the capital. Though Yin Wanderer never concerned herself with court affairs, her deep favor with the Emperor had naturally attracted a swarm of opportunistic officials desperate to curry favor.
But Yin Sanren was always arrogant and enigmatic. Despite years of respectful offerings and subtle overtures, no one ever received a clear answer, leaving them feeling quite empty inside.
And now—right at this delicate juncture—she vanished into seclusion and left behind a very youthful-looking young Daoist?
Forget his so-called "seventy years of age"—besides the Emperor, whose mind was clearly clouded by Daoist mysticism, no one in the capital believed that for a second!
Mysterious as she was, could this boy possibly be just as unfathomable?
With that suspicion in mind, a wave of court officials began to visit the National Preceptor's manor over the next few days. Invitations started piling up in Li Xun's hands—banquets, gatherings, outings—all sent with hopeful sincerity.
Having never dealt with this kind of political whirlwind before, Li Xun sought Yin Wanderer's guidance, but with no reply forthcoming, he paused only briefly to think—and then executed a maneuver that shocked the entire capital.
In just a few short days, every official in the city came to realize: that young Daoist was no ordinary figure.
Compared to Yin Wanderers prideful, elusive temperament, this Young Daoist was a battle-worn veteran of political intrigue.
Yes, he was smooth—but who in politics wasn't? What set him apart was that beneath his polished manner lurked hidden barbs and traps.
He didn't speak much, but when he did, every word struck home—sharp, incisive, and devastatingly precise. And yet, even at critical moments, he managed to remain tactful, never bruising anyone's dignity. But should anyone dare cross a line, his counterattack was swift, piercing, and unmistakably reminiscent of his master's style. Backed by formidable connections, his words carried real weight—and real threat.
After ten or so banquets, not a single person in the capital could claim to have figured him out. The only consistent observation was this: he seemed to have a close relationship with the Prince Fu's household, particularly with the heir, Li Cong. The two appeared to get along quite well.
Could it be that the Prince Fu—who had always shown disdain for mystics and Daoist trickery—had quietly formed an alliance with the National Preceptor?
That possibility alone was terrifying.
The capital's seasoned officials, sensing these veiled undercurrents, all felt a chill in their bones.
And so, within a few short days, the number of people trying to "foster friendship" with the Young National Preceptor grew rapidly—under all sorts of pretexts.
Just like today. A group of young nobles from the capital, using last night's heavy snowfall as an excuse, invited Li Xun to ride out of the city and enjoy the winter scenery.
Only because Li Cong was among them did Li Xun agree.
Once outside the gates, the dozen or so young men let loose, galloping across the snowy plains. The previous night's snow had blanketed the fields beyond the city in white. The open expanse shimmered under the sunlight, while occasional flashes of gray—rabbits or birds—darted across the snow, adding a playful charm to the scene.
As they raced forward, a young marquis named Lu Tai, heir to a noble title and long used to a carefree life, laughed aloud at the sight.
"What a pity we didn't bring bows!" he said. "We could've hunted some rabbits or deer—wouldn't that be grand?"
Before the words even faded, another chimed in, laughing. "More important, surely, would be showing off our Lord Lu's legendary archery skills—to win some beauty's favor, right?"
Another burst out laughing. "Blasphemy, blasphemy! Never mind whether the ladies would be impressed—don't forget, we've got the Young National Preceptor with us. You dare speak of killing? Aren't you afraid Daoist Li will summon thunder and lightning to strike you down on the spot?"