“She... owes you?”

  Zou Lan had a hard time wrapping her mind around this revelation. To her, Feng Yanmei was a bright flame shining high into the sky, forever out of reach. Ever since she had embarked on the path of cultivation, she had heard stories of this rising star of the Immortal Phoenix Sect, seeing her as a role model—so much so that many labelled Zou Lan as her second coming.

  "What's so hard to believe?" Qin Yun shrugged. "I don't believe you haven't sent people to investigate my past. You should know what transpired a few months back in Jin City."

  Indeed, she had, yet the reports she received were difficult to believe. Following her master, rumours of Yun Jingfei had also spread within the Western Regions, yet the details of her accident and her recovery were scarce, making people speculate. All she knew was that this young man—as her husband—had a hand in it.

  "Would she agree?" Zou Lan asked, her voice and expression laced with skepticism. "This would involve more than just her—maybe her whole sect. Would she dare to involve herself in it all for a stranger?"

  “You don’t need to worry about that,” Qin Yun replied.

  He then took a translucent crystal from his clothes. It was half the size of his fist, yet sparkled in the fading light as it hit one of its countless facets. It seemed like there was a maelstrom within, as if qi was continuously swirling inside a crystal prison, unable to break free.

  Even with this mysterious object in hand, Zou Lan’s gaze didn’t shift as she had seen this much too often. She only narrowed her eyes slightly, waiting to find what Qin Yun Intended.

  Using an outstretched finger to lightly touch the crystal, Qin Yun concentrated as a sharp intent bore right through the boundary, inscribing a message deep within its core. Watching this, Zou Lan's eyes couldn't help but open wide as she felt the residual waves of intent crash upon her, slightly stirring her Dao Heart, but also her own domain.

  Akin to sympathetic resonance, her domain began to ring, creating a strange hymn as it propagated within. It felt as if it had been reunited with a long-lost relative, its joy unable to be expressed but through mysterious songs.

  Qin Yun used his sword intent to carve a message within the crystal, yet it also resonated with Zou Lan’s sword domain, creating a hymn filled with meaning, but also the Dao.

  As the waves of newborn Dao filled the space, she couldn't help but close her eyes and absorb the meaning laces within, unable to bear wasting this opportunity. All the doubts and apprehension she felt when looking at this man of unknown origins faded away, replaced with an eagerness, unlike her usual self.

  After all, the Dao was the goal of all cultivators, their only means to reach a higher realm after they had condensed their own domains. Such opportunities were few and far between, sometimes necessitating heaven-sent fortunes or the inheritance of a long-lost expert to make even the slightest progress.

  After all, epiphanies didn't grow on trees. Yet, this was her second one in such a short time. There was only a single explanation for this. Qin Yun's mastery of the sword dwarfed her own, and not by a small margin. She couldn't help but feel fear grow in her heart, yet she discarded it all, unwilling to lose this opportunity.

  Strands of sword intent flew around her, infusing into her domain, creating a mysterious dance as each strand clashed in this limited battlefield, unleashing the Dao of Slaughter with each collision.

  Although their Daos differed and Qin Yun’s lack of domain meant the meaning was unstable as the world resisted its advent, Zou Lan benefited greatly from it—so much so that she would need a long time in closed-door cultivation to make the most of it, integrating her new insights within her own domain.

  As she absorbed the lingering sword intent swirling around the hall, Qin Yun watched over her. The crystal was now firmly in the palm of his hand, golden characters swirling within, yet protected by a sea of sharp blades that wouldn't rest until attempts to uncover its secrets were destroyed utterly.

  An hour passed, but Zou Lan remained immobile, except for a slight smile unconsciously adorning her lips. She basked in the moment, unwilling to extirpate herself, yet Qin Yun felt her domain grow slightly unstable. The change had been too quick, threatening to shake its foundation. As such, he took out his black sword and cut mercilessly, shattering the lingering sword intent swirling within the hall.

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  Zou Lan's eyes jolted open as sweat poured down her pores. She had felt the might of this slash yet couldn't find any remnants within the hall, only the lingering sensation of her own demise within her heart. She couldn't help but look toward Qin Yun fearfully, only to be stunned by a slight trace of blood dripping from his nose, which he tried his best to hide but couldn't.

  “Why did you do it?” she asked carefully, yet couldn’t hide her disappointment.

  “Impatience will only spoil the path forward," he said with a slight smile. "Didn't your elders ever warn you about its dangers?"

  Zou Lan was stunned, but only because of his tone. She remembered—many times in her youth—elders speaking in the same tone, addressing those many generations their juniors, even if their respective statuses weren't much different. An idea struck her—an idea that would explain much.

  “Who were you?” she asked.

  Her meaning was clear, and Qin Yun knew precisely what she meant. Even if he had no reason to hide it, he had no answers for her. While many of his former lives outside this world were like an open book, those within were hidden behind a veil he could never look past. He only knew some lives had been spent here, yet not much more. Even whether they were past or future ones were hidden from him.

  “Does it matter?” he asked, yet he could see her waver. He knew she expected something more, yet this was all he could offer. “It’s up to you whether to trust me or not. You also have the chance to walk away from it all. There’s no need to bet your sect on all this. I know you do not feel any loyalty to this cause. I don’t blame you. Anyone in your position would feel the same. Just look at the other three sects. They have made their choices long ago.”

  She frowned, feeling slighted. Yet, she didn’t offer more of a reaction, as she knew this was what this young man wanted. She wouldn’t be the puppet he wished, dancing to his every whim.

  “You never gave me a straight answer,” she said. “What’s your endgame in all this? How do you expect me to trust you without even that much?”

  Qin Yun sighed, feeling cornered. What little information he could offer was limited. Most of what he knew were fragments of memories scattered behind the veil, just out of reach. The rest was mere speculations he had yet to confirm. While he wished he could paint the entire picture, the one above wouldn't let him. Some things were better left unsaid.

  "I'm just like you," he finally said, looking deep into her eyes. "Just a puppet dancing to another's tune. As long as we remain in this world, we are bound to it. You've asked me what my end game is; that's easy. I just wish to survive, even if I have to save this world to do so."

  Zou Lan frowned further yet remained silent. While Qin Yun had given her what she wanted, it only prompted more questions than answers. She wished she could be as steadfast as Qin Yun in her resolve, yet she had too much to consider. Such was the burden of command.

  “I can't decide this alone," she finally said. "Soon, I will need to return to the sect. Once I do, this city..."

  “Will probably fall,” Qin Yun added, without the slightest hint of doubt, almost as if it was but a forgone conclusion. “The outsiders will surely come again, and when they do, the city won’t be able to hold, even with the new guardian. Especially with all the traitors within your midst. The best you can hope for is to gain time.”

  "Time is what we lack," she sighed, tilting her head back onto her throne's backrest, letting her long hair flow. "There's not enough time to wipe out all those who became corrupted, even if we were to take the more drastic measures."

  “Time is something I can grant you,” he said, unyielding.

  She looked at him, feeling his boundless confidence. She had many questions yet chose not to speak them. In fact, she thought she was better off not knowing. Somehow, at this moment, this man felt dangerous, filled with purpose, yet hidden beneath an ocean of disinterest. He was an enigma—an enigma too dangerous to uncover.

  “So be it,” she said. “I assume you’ll be leaving, then?”

  “I will soon," he replied. "A few matters need my attention, and then I'll leave."

  He tossed the small crystal in her direction, yet it stopped just a few inches before her, levitating in the air. She tried to probe it with her domain, yet it was repelled at the boundary, and she could not investigate further. Still, merely looking with her eyes, she could see mysterious golden characters swim within, out of reach but for one who possessed the correct means.

  "Can she even open this?" she couldn't help but ask, slightly taken aback by the mysteries contained within that even a Soul Formation cultivator couldn't uncover.

  "My wife can," Qin Yun said with a smile. "You can have Ruolan be the messenger. I'm sure the two of them will get along well."

  He then turned and walked out of the hall, unconcerned with awaiting her permission.

  Zou Lan remained silent, observing the mysterious object. The more she probed, the more she felt how dangerous the sword intent hidden within was. It was so sharp and deadly that even her domain couldn’t compete. She felt it would be severed in two were she to delve deeper. She couldn't even begin to comprehend how Feng Yanmei's disciple could uncover its secrets. Still, there was nothing she could do. She could only hope this would be enough to enlist their help.

  She sighed as she watched Qin Yun walk away, maybe for the last time. Where he intended to go was a barren land wrought with unending dangers. Many had fallen travelling through that forsaken place. He wouldn't be the first to not return.

  Night had now fallen over the city, yet the streets were still alight with people roaming through them as if to bask in the forced cheery atmosphere if only to squash the anxiety deep within. Unhealed scars remained in the people's hearts, yet booze and company helped soothe the pain. Taverns were teeming with people drowning their sorrows, and such a tavern was Qin Yun's destination for the night, yet his goal differed from all others.

  He stood before a familiar sign—the sign of a tavern he frequented but only once. From within, the boisterous voice of an inebriated patron resounded into the night, singing cheerful songs. Yet their sorrow and loss cut through their words, no matter how slurred they were.

  Although foreign, these songs brought forth emotions Qin Yun thought long forgotten. The longing within reminded him of days long past. A look of melancholy appeared in his eyes, yet no tears were shed, almost as if he had forgotten how. Only a sad feeling bloomed in his heart as he rode the waves of sorrow fading into the night.

  With a slight smile, he entered, only to be greeted by bronze and silver.