Transforming into a stunningly beautiful fox spirit, leaving a scar on the heart of a prodigy.

When Li Changgeng walked in, there was no wind.

His footsteps were almost silent; the hem of his gray Taoist robe brushed against the floor tiles as he slid in through the doorway like a shadow. Before the four direct lineage elders could even straighten their bent backs, he had already reached the table.

Pull out a chair. Sit down.

The movements were slow, as if they had entered their own tea room.

"The tea's gone cold." Li Changgeng looked at the cup of tea on the table, which was covered with a thin layer of ice, and said to Chen Daolin, "Change it."

Chen Daolin remained silent, but gestured with his chin towards the person behind him. A servant, head bowed, quickly approached, took away the old tea, and replaced it with fresh tea. Steam rose from the cup, swirled around in front of Li Changgeng, and then dissipated.

He picked up his teacup and took a sip.

There were no ripples on the tea.

The side hall was so quiet that the sound of the lamp wick burning could be heard. The four elders stood behind Chen Daolin, not daring to breathe.

Chen Xuan's right hand was still gripping the sword hilt.

Su Chang'an's heart pounded in her mind. She stared at Li Changgeng's face, which looked to be no more than forty years old, and her mind replayed every scene in the Supreme Forgetfulness Sect's Scripture Pavilion.

She shrank deeper into her consciousness. Her tail curled up tightly. She suppressed her breathing to a minimum.

Then she sent a telepathic message.

"Let go of my hand."

Chen Xuan did not move.

"What's the use of gripping the sword hilt, to use it as a cane?" Su Chang'an's voice carried a hint of impatience. "If you draw your sword now, these six people here can pin you to the ground and rub you three times over. Let go. Be natural."

Chen Xuan loosened his fingers one by one. When he loosened the last one, he paused for a moment before letting go completely.

He sat back down in his chair.

Li Changgeng put down his teacup and glanced at him.

"Nice posture," Li Changgeng said. "Did you sit like this back in the sect?"

Chen Xuan did not answer immediately.

Su Chang'an's voice came in: "Yes, say it. Don't say more."

"Yes."

Li Changgeng nodded. He ran his fingers along the inside of the cup.

"Your cultivation has improved considerably," he said. "Early stage of Great Sage. Perfected foundation. From the Casting Cauldron Realm to Great Sage, you've taken less than a few years, surpassing others' centuries of arduous cultivation."

A pause. His gaze slid from Chen Xuan's chest to his wrist.

"In the three thousand years of the Supreme Forgetfulness Sect, only one person has ever achieved this speed."

Su Chang'an pricked up his ears in his sea of ​​consciousness.

Chen Daolin paused slightly in the teacup he was holding, but quickly resumed his original position.

"However—" Li Changgeng changed the subject, speaking casually as if discussing the weather, "Your cultivation path has gone astray. The Supreme Forgetfulness Technique emphasizes severing emotions and cutting off thoughts. You entered the Dao through emotions, and although your foundation is stable, the direction of your cultivation is contrary to the orthodox path. If you attempt to break through to the Quasi-Emperor realm in the future, I'm afraid you'll run into trouble."

Su Chang'an quickly transmitted his voice: "He's probing your foundation. Don't respond, let him talk."

Chen Xuan picked up his teacup and took a sip. He didn't say anything.

Li Changgeng didn't mind.

"Beneath the Guiyuan Hall lies the main root of the ancestral spiritual vein. The attributes of that spiritual vein are of the same origin as the Supreme Forgetfulness Technique. If you seclude yourself there for three days, you can slowly correct the deviation of your root vein back to its original state."

He spoke very sincerely.

Chen Xuan put down his teacup.

Su Chang'an transmitted his voice: "Guiyuan Palace is a cage. The spiritual veins have been diverted there, not to nurture people, but to trap them. He's just making empty promises."

"No need," Chen Xuan said. "My path needs no correction."

Li Changgeng smiled.

The smile was faint, hanging at the corner of his mouth.

He changed the subject.

"Your fox spirit—" He paused for a moment, then changed his words, "Where is the girl?"

The temperature in the side hall remained the same, but Su Chang'an felt a chill on the tip of his tail.

She said she was leaving.

"She's gone," Chen Xuan said.

Li Changgeng held his teacup and looked at him.

"Gone?"

The two words were spoken in a flat tone, without any intention of questioning.

But his gaze lingered on Chen Xuan's brow for a moment longer.

Su Chang'an sensed it. In that instant, something extremely thin swept across the edge of his sea of ​​consciousness from the outside. It was like someone gently scratching a door panel with their fingernail.

Her breathing stopped.

The wisp didn't come in. It just brushed against the outside and then withdrew.

To test the waters.

Chen Xuan's voice rang out.

No need for you to worry.

He spoke those three words calmly and deliberately.

Li Changgeng withdrew his gaze and took another sip of tea.

The hall was quiet for a few moments.

Chen Daolin stepped in to smooth things over: "Fellow Daoist has come from afar regarding the Imperial Son's Trial—"

"No rush," Li Changgeng waved his hand, interrupting him.

His gaze fell on the heavy sword behind Chen Xuan.

"This sword is of a high grade," Li Changgeng said. "The blade contains the remnants of Phoenix True Fire and the Heaven-Burning Divine Furnace. However, it is essentially a broken sword."

His tone became somewhat casual.

"What a coincidence. Fellow Daoist Chen once told me that there is an old object under the Guiyuan Hall, made of the same material as the base of your sword. Perhaps they are from the same origin."

Su Chang'an's pupils contracted slightly.

She remembered the white short sword in the secret chamber of the Emperor's palace. It was placed next to the Heavenly Fox Token. After Chen Xuan took it, he kept it wrapped inside his cloak and close to his body.

Things of the same origin.

What could possibly be related to the relics of the Nine-Tailed Celestial Fox Clan?

"Not interested," Chen Xuan said.

Li Changgeng didn't pay any attention.

He stood up. The movement was natural. He placed the teacup back on the table, in the exact same position as before.

I walked to the door.

My steps stopped.

Su Chang'an was on edge.

At that very moment—

A wisp of divine sense was released from between Li Changgeng's eyebrows.

That divine sense pierced straight towards the entrance of Chen Xuan's sea of ​​consciousness.

Chen Xuan's body stiffened abruptly. He felt the force of that divine sense—like a mountain pressing down on his brow. Sweat instantly seeped out from his back, soaking through his undergarments.

Within the sea of ​​consciousness.

Su Chang'an saw that divine consciousness.

It was gray, with a sandalwood scent. It stopped at the entrance to its consciousness, without forcing its way in.

But it started moving along the door frame.

very slow.

Like a finger, it traces along the edge of the door frame, from left to right, and then back again.

Su Chang'an's nine tails coiled together, tightly binding his soul. His quasi-emperor-level aura was completely concealed, pressing down to the deepest recesses of his soul.

She forced out a wisp of the Heavenly Fox's essence and scattered it at the entrance of her sea of ​​consciousness.

It's not the scent of life. It's a lingering fragrance. Like the scent still clinging to an old garment—the person is gone, but the aroma remains.

The finger traced the line a second time.

It stopped right in the middle of the door frame.

Su Chang'an felt that divine sense was sniffing.

To determine whether this aura is alive or dead.

Take a breath.

Two breaths.

The third breath—

He withdrew his fingers.

At the entrance of the side hall, Li Changgeng's footsteps rang out again.

He didn't turn around.

"Chen Xuan, the doors of Guiyuan Palace are always open for you."

The voice wasn't loud, but every word reached every corner of the hall.

"However—I advise you to retrieve that old item inside as soon as possible."

He stepped across the threshold.

"A few days later..."

The hem of the gray Taoist robe disappeared outside the temple gate.

The last half-sentence drifted back from the darkness of the corridor, carrying a hint of sandalwood.

"It will come out by itself."

The footsteps faded into the distance.

The side hall returned to quiet.

Chen Daolin held his teacup, his expression unchanged. The four elders finally relaxed, and a bead of sweat rolled down the forehead of one of them to his chin.

Chen Xuan sat in the chair.

The inner garment on her back was already soaked.

His hand touched the hilt of the sword again.

Deep within his consciousness, Su Chang'an slowly unwrapped his tail, which had been coiled up in a ball. The nine tails unfolded one by one, each one trembling slightly.

Her heart was still pounding.

too fast.

She leaned against a corner of her mind, closed her eyes, and rested for a long time.

Then she transmitted her voice. Her voice was the same as usual, lazy and with a hint of disdain.

"He's gone. Don't let anyone see you like that."

Chen Xuan did not answer.

Su Chang'an added, "We cannot go to Guiyuan Hall."

"I know."

There was a brief silence.

"What did he mean by that just now?" Chen Xuan asked in a low voice. "What would come out on its own?"

Su Chang'an did not answer.

She remembered the white-haired, red-eyed girl in the Palace of Bones.

I remembered that fox spirit named Chunxian.

I remembered the almost crazed look on Li Changgeng's face when he called out "Master".

She suddenly realized that the old object buried under the Guiyuan Hall might not be a magic treasure or a divine weapon.

It is one person.

Or—it once belonged to one person.