Luo Yinxian furiously pointed at the sky and cursed: “Immaculate, you plotted rebellion! You secretly harmed the previous Palace Lord! Do you still refuse to repent?!”
“Plotted rebellion?” A white silhouette descended. A woman with loose black hair and white robes gracefully approached. “Today, the ones plotting rebellion seem to be you, Elder Luo, and your lot, no?”
There was no wind from any direction, yet her robes floated as if lifted by invisible waves of qi, like lotus petals blooming.
The woman’s black hair hung unbound, trailing loosely down her back. She went barefaced without makeup or hair ornaments.
As everyone’s gazes turned toward the Immaculate Old Mother, Mu Daoying could not help but follow suit.
Seeing was believing. For this legendary figure, the Immaculate Old Mother, Mu Daoying was young after all—he could not help but feel curious.
But the woman before him truly exceeded his expectations.
It was said that the Immaculate Old Mother lived in seclusion and rarely appeared in public. Many disciples of the Joyous Union Palace were seeing the Old Mother’s visage for the first time.
By common imagination, the lord of a palace like this had to be a ravishing beauty, seductive and alluring.
However, the woman who appeared before the crowd was not dressed in gorgeous fashion.
Her stature was not particularly tall—at least in Mu Daoying’s eyes, she barely reached his shoulder.
Yet she was very “thin.”
This “thin” was not the “skin-and-bones” sort of thin.
It was a stark, desolate thinness, cold and austere.
Her brows and eyes could be called beautiful, but it was a strange, eerie, and poignant beauty.
Like a snow-capped peak sword with blood-red cuckoo cries—chilling to the core.
This was a small, coldly somber woman.
No man could see the Immaculate Old Mother for the first time without being captivated by her profound aura.
Yet once they came to their senses, none dared to act rashly.
Her bearing was one to admire from afar but never profane. She inspired chills and instinctive fear.
As Mu Daoying felt a slight surprise, the hitherto silent Liu Qiao’e suddenly lashed out. Her tone carried a hint of pique: “What are you looking at?”
Mu Daoying harbored no stray thoughts and spoke frankly: “The Old Mother’s thoughts and this one’s differ greatly.”
Who would have thought Liu Qiao’e would grow even angrier: “You still dare to lust after her?!”
Mu Daoying: “…” He felt utterly innocent.
Regardless of how he held no lustful designs on the Immaculate Old Mother, from where had Liu Qiao’e drawn the conclusion of “lusting after”?
Moreover, why did her tone sound… not entirely like anger? Mu Daoying hesitated, frowning—it seemed more like… embarrassment turning to fury?
–
Qi Mei seethed with shock and rage: “Immaculate, you got lucky just now and escaped one calamity! But you can dodge the first but not the fifteenth—let’s see where you escape to today!”
“Ridiculous!” Liu Qiao’e snapped harshly. With a cold shout, a massive snow-white lotus burst from the top of her head and soared into the air!
Luo Yinxian paled in horror at the sight. He knew Liu Qiao’e would not let him off easily today.
How could this be?! Luo Yinxian’s heart sank as he repeatedly questioned himself.
How could this be?
Bai Mengli could not help but question the same in her heart.
The young man whom Liu Qiao’e had flung away lay in agony at the bottom of the deep pit, his breaths coming in but not going out.
Bai Mengli’s heart twisted like a knife at the sight. Tears streamed down her face as she cast caution aside, flying forward to wail: “Han-lang!”
How could this be? She was at a complete loss, her mind in turmoil.
Everything that had happened today was the result of Qi Mei and the others’ meticulous scheme.
The Immaculate Old Mother had entered seclusion for this breakthrough without bringing any of her male favorites—not even Second Master Cheng Xun—save for the newest darling, Han Yunche, to guard the array.
Han Yunche had entered the palace not long ago, yet he had earned the Old Mother’s deep trust.
Cultivators’ breakthroughs defied the heavens. Each rush through a pass was when they were most vulnerable. The higher the realm, the greater the risk of heavenly backlash.
Thus, high-rank cultivators set up grand arrays during breakthroughs: first to gather spiritual qi and mitigate heavenly backlash, second to ward off external interference.
Originally, Han Yunche had tampered with the array from within. Unaware, the Immaculate Old Mother would surely suffer backlash from the array, leading to its destruction and her death—her corpse would have vanished in that earlier explosion.
But unexpectedly, not only had the Immaculate Old Mother survived, now the one on the verge of death was Han Yunche!
Retreat.
But retreat to where?
The Immaculate Old Mother had emerged from the array with her cultivation clearly stepping into the cave nether realm of the seventh layer.
This lotus came with ferocious momentum.
At the first clash, Luo Yinxian knew he could not handle it. He hurriedly unleashed his escape light and turned to flee.
Who could have imagined the lotus’s speed far exceeded his expectations? No matter how many times he spurred his escape light, he could not shake its pursuit.
He flew a few dozen zhang, and the lotus’s radiance swelled by the same distance.
In a mere instant, its petals brushed his robe hem. Luo Yinxian’s face turned ashen, his courage shattered. He struggled desperately.
The petals gently closed, enveloping his entire body in the lotus heart.
The next breath.
Luo Yinxian’s bones shattered inch by inch, his flesh and blood splattered. He perished on the spot.
Qi Mei reeled as if struck. Her vision blackened, and she nearly fainted.
It was over.
Everything was over.
Yet a cornered beast still fights—how could she sit idly by to await death, even if she knew the odds of turning the tables were minuscule?
Qi Mei rallied her spirits and bluffed: “Immaculate, do you really think killing Luo Yinxian changes your defeat today?!”
“Disciples of the Blood Devouring Sect are already at the gates. What you do today is nothing but a cornered beast’s struggle!”
“Junior Sister Qi.” Liu Qiao’e’s gaze turned peculiar, a trace of pity in her eyes. “Do you truly think This Seat has only this one trick?”
Qi Mei’s heart jolted. What did Liu Qiao’e mean by that?
No sooner had she spoken than shouts of battle erupted from the four gates in the distance.
Thick black demonic qi roiled into clouds and rose into the sky.
Qi Mei had dared attempt this plot today, so naturally she had made more preparations than that.
As early as several months prior, she had secretly colluded with the Blood Devouring Sect of the Eight Demonic Sects.
Though rumors persisted that Liu Qiao’e had some ambiguous ties to the Demonic Sect, the Demonic Sect was far from united—skirmishes between the eight sects were commonplace.
Now seeing the Blood Devouring Sect reinforcements she had arranged finally spring into action, Qi Mei’s spirits lifted, her shock turning to joy.
But her elation did not last long.
Because following Liu Qiao’e’s pitying glance.
Several beams of golden light suddenly shot from the roiling black clouds in the distance. At first mere scant rays, they tore an opening in the demonic qi. In an instant, myriad Buddhist lights surged forth, treasures gleaming, rainbows shining. The demonic clouds on the horizon melted away like ice into fire, dissolving like water.
Buddhist qi?! Mu Daoying’s heart sank.
Ever since the Immaculate Old Mother appeared, it had been wave after wave of surprises, each beyond his expectations.
The Zen schools flourished in the Eastern Florescence Realm, with great and small groves of monasteries numbering in the hundreds, if not thousands.
Heart-Endless Garden to the east.
Precept Light Temple to the west.
Which Buddhist sanctuary was aiding the Joyous Union Palace?
Mu Daoying pressed his lips tight, finally sensing deep unease.
The enigmas surrounding the Immaculate Old Mother and her Joyous Union Palace, amid the Immortal Alliance’s tangled complexities and treacherous currents, filled him with worry.
But the Immaculate Old Mother clearly had no intention of explaining the Buddhist lights erupting on the horizon.
Her snow-white bare feet never touched the ground as she floated gracefully to Qi Mei’s side.
With matters at this point, Qi Mei finally realized the tide had turned irrevocably. She slumped powerless to the ground.
“Junior sister. Still want to fight me for it?”
Qi Mei gnashed her teeth and glared hatefully: “Fight?! I’m just taking back what’s mine!”
“Immaculate, you know full well you forged Master’s decree! The Palace Lord was supposed to be me!” Qi Mei shouted. “Me!”
“Old Mother—” Cheng Xun, watching from the side, could not help but step forward, shooting the Immaculate Old Mother a worried glance.
Liu Qiao’e did not spare him a sideways look. She raised one hand, signaling him to withdraw.
Cheng Xun’s eyes showed melancholy, but he did not defy her. He obediently stepped aside, earning a comforting glance from Chen Yuro.
Cheng Xun returned a bitter smile.
“Junior sister, victors are kings, the defeated are bandits. I think you’ve gone mad. Of course, usurpers since ancient times always concoct some seemingly justifiable excuse to dupe others into joining their rebellion.
“If you weren’t guilty, why harp on and on that you’re the legitimate one?”
“Deputy Palace Lord Qi formed cliques for selfish ends, plotted treason, and with her conspiracy exposed, has clearly lost her mind.” Liu Qiao’e withdrew without a change in expression, stepped to the front, and issued her first order after emerging from seclusion. “Order her taken into custody. The rest of her accomplices are to be dealt with as aiding a tyrant.”
Chen Yuro moved swiftly. Together with Second Master and Third Lady, they quickly made the arrangements.
The few Perfected Ones who had risen alongside Qi Mei and Luo Yinxian had long abandoned resistance and were all locked away.
Now, the only one left on the field was Han Yunche in the deep pit.
Mountain winds howled across. In the plaza’s center amid tens of thousands, not a soul dared make a sound.
Only Bai Mengli knelt by Han Yunche’s side, weeping endlessly.
Amid the wind, only the woman’s sobs echoed, chilling to the heart.
“Old Mother.” Han Yunche called weakly.