Xiao Yifeng raised a hand, his fingers tracing a sigil in the air. Immediately, the surrounding moisture condensed, forming a thick, swirling shroud of white mist that encased them both. From the outside, the sphere of fog was impenetrable, shielding them from prying eyes.
Inside the veil, however, visibility was merely reduced to a hazy blur.
Su Miaoqing let out a breath of relief, though her tension remained high. She began to unfasten her outer robes, her movements stiff. Even with the mist, the silhouette of Xiao Yifeng was visible nearby, and she could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. She dared not glance in his direction.
Xiao Yifeng harbored no such reservedness. Efficiency was paramount. With a few swift motions, he stripped off his current garb and donned the formal true disciple robes of the Wentian Sect. The white and blue silk draped perfectly over his frame, lending him an air of immediate authority.
"Senior Sister, are you finished?" Xiao Yifeng asked, his back turned, noting the sudden silence behind him where the rustling of fabric had been.
"It... it is a tight fit," Su Miaoqing’s voice came out strained, laced with embarrassment.
Xiao Yifeng turned around.
Su Miaoqing stood clad in the Wentian Sect’s female disciple uniform—a flowing skirt of azure and white, layered beneath a darker blue outer coat. However, she despised wearing sect uniforms and hadn't carried one in years. This particular set was from her teenage years, when she was merely seventeen or eighteen.
Time had been kind to her figure, perhaps too kind for the fabric. She had grown significantly since then, her curves filling out in ways the youthful garment had never anticipated. She was visibly holding her breath, her posture rigid as she fought to keep the fabric from tearing.
She exhaled a long, desperate sigh, trying to relax.
Snap.
The strain was too much. A button near her collar succumbed to the pressure and popped off, flying into the mist. The fabric parted instantly, revealing a deep, alluring expanse of creamy, jade-like skin against the dark blue silk.
"Ah!" Su Miaoqing gasped, her hands flying up to clutch her collar. She shot a glare at Xiao Yifeng that could have melted steel, her face burning a brilliant crimson. "Don't look!"
Xiao Yifeng blinked, caught off guard, but quickly recovered his composure. He fished a spare fastener from his storage ring and extended it to her without a hint of lewdness. "Here. Fix it."
Snatching the clasp, Su Miaoqing turned her back to him, her fingers trembling as she struggled to secure the garment.
While she adjusted herself, Xiao Yifeng’s tone shifted, dropping the casual demeanor and becoming grimly calculating. "Senior Sister, listen closely. With your current condition, even if you were at the Golden Core stage, the wolves at the entrance would tear you apart. We have no choice. We must deceive them."
"Deceive them?" Su Miaoqing asked, still fiddling with her collar. "How can we fake a Golden Core cultivation? They aren't blind."
"Hand me every Talisman you have left," Xiao Yifeng commanded, ignoring her doubt. " And the Coiling Dragon Jade Pendant. I will use the pendant to mask our true aura fluctuations and the Talismans to create a false pressure. As long as we play the part of arrogant Wentian Sect true disciples, they won't dare to probe too deeply."
Su Miaoqing turned back, looking worried. "But if we are exposed... the consequences would be unimaginable. Perhaps we should retreat?"
"There is no retreat. The moment we entered, the path behind us closed," Xiao Yifeng said, his eyes narrowing as he gazed into the void. "We must pierce through to the end. From this moment on, I am Wuchen, the True Disciple of the Wentian Sect. You remain Su Miaoqing. We are simply out on a sect experiential training mission."
"Wuchen?" Su Miaoqing paused.
It wasn't that Xiao Yifeng lacked other options, but Wuchen was the only persona that fit his current combat style and equipment. He couldn't mimic the Second or Fourth Senior Brothers; their signature Dharma Treasures were too unique to replicate. But Wuchen... Wuchen was a swordsman.
"I should take the lead," Su Miaoqing argued, her pride flickering. "I am the Senior Sister. It is my duty to protect you."
"We agreed," Xiao Yifeng cut her off, his gaze locking onto hers with an intensity that brooked no argument. "Inside here, you listen to me."
Su Miaoqing bit her lip, then reluctantly nodded. She handed over the Coiling Dragon Jade Pendant and her stack of high-grade Talismans.
Xiao Yifeng accepted them, then closed his eyes. He reached into the memories of his past life, summoning the image of Wuchen—the cold, aloof prodigy he had once dealt with. He bit down on his fingertip, drawing blood, and swiftly traced a crimson lotus sigil upon his forehead. Channeling his spiritual energy, he seared the mark into his skin.
When his eyes snapped open, the warmth was gone. In its place was a chilling indifference, an aura of someone who viewed the world from a high peak. He gripped the Falling Rainbow Sword, his posture relaxing into practiced arrogance, and pressed his hand onto the jade pendant.
Whoosh!
The massive floating rock beneath them surged forward, accelerating like a meteor trailing starlight, guided by the pendant’s resonance. Su Miaoqing instinctively stepped back, positioning herself half a step behind him—the subordinate position.
The rock tore through the void. Moments later, a colossal structure loomed out of the darkness.
It was an Immortal Gate, titanic and oppressive.
Standing over a hundred meters tall, the gate rested upon a massive stone platform suspended in the nothingness. Before it, humans were no more significant than ants. Flanking the gate were two gigantic statues. To the left, a male figure with a face like a yaksha—ferocious, hideous, and demonic. To the right, a female figure of celestial beauty, holding a long sword, her expression serene yet cold.
On the platform, a dozen figures were already waiting. Sensing the arrival of another 'meteor,' they turned their heads in unison.
Seeing Xiao Yifeng and Su Miaoqing approaching, several of them brazenly extended their Divine Sense, sweeping it toward the newcomers to gauge their strength. It was a rude, probing gesture common in the cultivation world—a test of dominance.
"Hmph."
Xiao Yifeng let out a cold snort. Inside his consciousness, the Immortal Slayer vibrated. He unleashed a Soul-Piercing Thorn, riding the wave of their own intrusive mental energy back to the source.
Thud.
On the platform, a cultivator groaned, stumbling back as blood trickled from his nose. His Divine Sense had been shattered.
The others recoiled, their expressions changing instantly. Xiao Yifeng wore the Coiling Dragon Jade Pendant, which turned his aura into a fathomless pool. They could sense danger, but they could not see the bottom of his cultivation.
As the rock slowed, Xiao Yifeng summoned the Mystic Frost Ice Serpent. The massive beast materialized, its scales glistening with frost. He stepped onto its head, Su Miaoqing following, and they descended toward the platform like deities descending to the mortal realm.
The cultivators on the platform were split into two loose factions. From one group, an old Taoist with a sage-like appearance stepped forward, his eyes wary.
"Might I ask... are these two Fellow Daoists from the Wentian Sect?"
Xiao Yifeng stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his chin slightly raised. He did not look at the old man, but past him, at the gate.
"Wentian Sect. Wuchen."
The name dropped like a heavy stone into a quiet pond.
The Shadow of the Name, the Shade of the Tree. In the last hundred years, no name among the younger generation of the Wentian Sect carried as much weight as Wuchen. The direct disciple of the Sect Leader. A Golden Core prodigy.
The crowd stirred. All eyes fixed on Xiao Yifeng. They saw the cold arrogance, the blood-red lotus blazing on his forehead, and the crimson sword in his hand.
The Blazing Plains Sword. It had to be.
Xiao Yifeng had chosen this disguise carefully. Wuchen was a recluse, rarely descending the mountain, so few knew his face. But his reputation for slaughter was widespread. High talent, high lethality, low profile—it was the perfect cover.
Xiao Yifeng had crossed swords with the real Wuchen in his past life. He knew the man’s cadence, his silence, his disdain. He would not be exposed.
"Ah! So it is Fellow Daoist Wuchen!" The old Taoist’s wariness instantly melted into a sycophantic smile. He bowed slightly, clasping his hands. "I am Lingyun of the Star Gate. I have long admired your illustrious name. To meet you today is truly a blessing. You are indeed a dragon among men, possessing true immortal grace."
Xiao Yifeng offered a barely perceptible nod, accepting the praise as his due. His cold gaze swept over the assembly.
There were men and women, old and young. Their auras fluctuated, but every single one of them was at least at the Foundation Establishment stage.
His eyes lingered briefly on a white-haired old man with a gap-toothed, yellow grin—Wang Laoxie. The old monster was currently playing the fool, gazing at the gate with feigned senility, but the stench of blood on him was unmistakable to those who knew where to look.
But it was two other figures that truly caught Xiao Yifeng’s attention.
One was a woman standing apart from the rest. She was breathtakingly beautiful, an enchantress whose very presence seemed to warp the air with seduction.
A familiar face.