Chapter Fifty-Eight: Betrayed

The appearance of the Ghost Valley was abrupt, occurring five hundred years ago. It coincided with the era when the Cangyun Sect first rang the bell nine times in succession. At that time, the Ghost Valley was still a beautiful, expansive valley. When the anomaly occurred, no one had time to react; from within the valley surged forth many grotesque, ferocious-looking monsters that slaughtered all living things in the vicinity, turning the area into a land of death.

By the time the five great sects realized what was happening, those monsters had already spread a hundred miles beyond the valley. Without hesitation, the leaders of the five sects immediately ordered all their disciples to eradicate the monsters.

No one knows exactly how long that great war lasted, but in the end, the five sects emerged victorious.

Now, five centuries have passed, and the Ghost Valley has existed for five hundred years. During this time, in order to prevent the resurgence of such powerful monsters, every ten years, the five sects would send disciples in the Spirit Aspect and Foundation Establishment stages into the valley when the sealing array was at its weakest, with the sole purpose of eliminating those newly spawned, yet immature monsters whose origins remained a mystery.

Later, the sects discovered that rare spiritual herbs, seldom seen elsewhere, grew within the Ghost Valley. Thus, the monster-cleansing expeditions gradually transformed into a trial for disciples, with their performance evaluated by the number and quality of spiritual herbs they brought out.

This time, the four great sects spared no effort, even pulling in the long-coveted noble families, pressing the Cangyun Sect to agree to open the Ghost Valley trial ahead of schedule.

For this, the leader of the Cangyun Sect had been deeply troubled. He hadn’t expected that after discussing it with Chang Kong, he would receive such an offhanded response.

“If everyone wants to profit from the Ghost Valley, why not simply let them?” Chang Kong said indifferently. “It’s not as if only their sects have outstanding disciples—our Cangyun Sect has them as well. Why shouldn’t we seize the opportunity for good results?”

“What’s more, don’t we still have an extremely unpredictable presence on our side?”

At that, the Cangyun Sect leader suddenly understood, looking at him and saying, “Junior brother, I still think you’re more suited to this position than I am!”

“Please, spare me. I have no desire to change my name,” Chang Kong refused at once, with practiced ease. “Becoming sect leader requires a change of name, and that alone is unacceptable to me.”

The sect leader’s face darkened. If you can’t accept it, do you think I can?

The first leader of the Cangyun Sect had such a bizarre name—who could bear it? Fan Ren—who could stand it? For a dignified sect leader to bear such a name, and to have decreed that all successors must change their name accordingly, it was as if he intended the name to be “passed down through the ages”!

“But isn’t it a bit much to send disciples who haven’t even reached Foundation Establishment?” The sect leader frowned, concern in his voice.

Chang Kong paused, pondering for a moment before replying, “Your point is not without merit. In that case, we’ll have to make some adjustments.”

“Let’s have Shen Qingyun fulfill his duty as a disciple of the Cangyun Sect,” Chang Kong added, a sly, fox-like smile on his face.

At these words, the sect leader smiled as well, though his appearance was far more dignified than Chang Kong’s.

At this very moment, Shen Qingyun was on his way down the mountain, completely unaware that two old foxes were already plotting his fate.

Sensing something, Shen Qingyun turned back to glance at the peak of Flying Cloud Summit, a hint of confusion flickering in his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Fang Tianyi, walking beside him, noticed Shen Qingyun’s movement and asked in puzzlement.

Shen Qingyun shook his head, replying, “It’s nothing.” Yet he remained unsettled, wondering about the strange sensation he had just felt in his heart.

An Emperor is the most powerful being in this world—their own fortune is so closely bound to the world that they can sense it, achieving an effect akin to foreknowledge.

That was why the intuition Shen Qingyun had just experienced concerned him so much; it surely pertained to something that would happen to him in the future.

Such abilities were not exclusive to Emperors; generally, any cultivator whose attunement to the world had reached a certain level could experience similar premonitions.

…

Meanwhile, news was spreading like wildfire across Bamboo Peak: the third-ranking disciple, the Sword Maniac, had returned!

In the past half-year, though some wondered where the Sword Maniac had gone, most simply enjoyed the newfound peace and the ability to walk the mountain paths without fear.

Feng Chuxun’s title of “Sword Maniac” was well earned—he would draw his sword at anyone, anywhere, regardless of who you were.

If you were lucky, nothing would happen; if not, well, the sect would compensate your losses!

On Bamboo Peak, perhaps only the top disciple, Xing Wuque, and the second disciple, Gu Yang, were unafraid of the Sword Maniac—their cultivation was reason enough.

Upon hearing of Feng Chuxun’s return, Wang Can immediately hurried to his abode.

“Wang Can, here to pay respects to Senior Brother Feng…” He nearly slipped and called him by his infamous title in the Cangyun Sect.

“What do you want?” Feng Chuxun’s voice came from within the residence.

“Junior brother heard you were held in the Hall of Cleansing Heart for six months and only just released, so I came to check on you!”

After Wang Can finished speaking, he heard no reply. Anxiety gnawed at him, fearing the protective wards would suddenly close and a gleaming sword would thrust at him.

After a long while with still no response, Wang Can was about to leave when suddenly the wards of Feng Chuxun’s abode lifted, and a voice as cool as the breeze drifted to his ears: “Come in.”