Chapter 236: Persuasive Tongue, the Volatile Master of the Silver Moon Sect

"Liu Yun Town?" Lu Qing looked ahead at the bustling town, then turned to the elder beside him. "Master, what’s the connection between this town and the Liu Yun Zong?"

"This town serves as a subsidiary settlement for the Liu Yun Zong," the old doctor replied. "It’s primarily responsible for supplying the sect with all manner of daily necessities. After all, a great cultivation sect like the Liu Yun Zong can’t allow random outsiders to freely enter their mountain gates every day. So, they typically descend once in a while to conduct large-scale purchases, ensuring the daily needs of their disciples are met."

"I see," Lu Qing said, his Spirit Soul Power subtly extending forward. "It seems we haven’t arrived too late. The major sects haven’t begun their assault yet."

In his perception, the town ahead teemed with powerful presences. Dozens of formidable auras pulsed through the air—over a dozen in total, each with tightly reined blood and qi, yet beneath the surface, they simmered like dormant volcanoes, brimming with suppressed might. Clearly, these were genuine martial masters, far stronger than even the elder beside him.

But what surprised Lu Qing was the absence of any detectable Xian Tian Jing aura among them.

Was it that the Xian Tian Jing masters hadn’t arrived at all? Or had they used a secret technique to conceal their essence?

At his current cultivation level, he understood that the unique essence of a Xian Tian Jing cultivator made it nearly impossible to hide from others of the same realm—especially when they were in close proximity. Even without direct confrontation, the mere presence of another Xian Tian Jing would be sensed.

But it wasn’t absolute. There were rare secret techniques, or unique treasures, capable of masking such essence entirely.

He’d witnessed such things before—like the artifact belonging to Lin Zhi Rui, a disciple of the Tian Ji Lou, which had even fooled Xiao Li’s keen senses. And then there was his own master, who, after mastering the complete Xian Tian Ling Yu, could perfectly conceal his aura, remaining undetected by other Xian Tian Jing cultivators.

"Master," Lu Qing asked, "shall we enter?"

He knew his master must have sensed the situation as well.

Old Doctor paused, then shook his head. "No need. Let’s settle outside the town. There’s no point in walking straight into trouble."

"I agree," Lu Qing nodded. "Though these sects appear united in their march, it’s not that simple. From my perception, I can already sense several strong auras within the town—clashing, competing, with clear tension between them. The so-called alliance isn’t as solid as it seems."

In such a volatile situation, who could predict what would happen next? It was wiser to stay outside and observe.

"Chen Ye, Lu Xiao Langjun," the round-faced middle-aged man said, surprised. "We’re not going in?"

"No," Old Doctor said calmly. "Since our purpose is merely to observe and gain experience, there’s no need to get too close. Better to keep a safe distance and avoid unnecessary trouble."

"...Fine," the man grumbled, though he clearly doubted the reasoning.

He wasn’t blind to the fact that Chen Ye and Lu Qing weren’t the kind to fear trouble. He still remembered vividly how ruthlessly Lu Qing had wiped out a gang of bandits just two days prior.

A man capable of such swift, merciless slaughter wouldn’t hesitate to enter a town—especially one like this.

But since Old Doctor had spoken, the man held his tongue. Over the past few days, he’d grown increasingly aware that Chen Ye and Lu Qing were deeply enigmatic. There were layers to them he simply couldn’t fathom.

Take their cultivation levels, for instance. He’d seen Lu Qing dispatch over twenty bandits armed with hidden weapons and crossbows in an instant—using a technique so dazzling it defied belief. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to sense Lu Qing’s true strength afterward, the man’s blood qi remained unchanged—consistently at the Qi Xue Jing realm, with no fluctuation.

The same went for Chen Ye. On the surface, he looked unremarkable—just an old man with slightly sharper mental clarity than most. But the fact that he’d trained someone like Lu Qing, and earned the genuine respect of martial masters like Ma Gu and Wei Zian, was impossible to ignore.

The more he observed, the more unsettled he became.

Fortunately, Lu Qing and the others remained courteous and approachable, and their cooking was simply delicious. Otherwise, he might have already considered sneaking away with his daughter and disciples during the journey.

Eventually, the group found a suitable spot in the nearby forest and settled down for the night.

And they weren’t alone.

Numerous other wandering martial artists, drawn by the rumors of a grand confrontation but unwilling to get involved, had done the same—hiding in the woods around Liu Yun Town, ready to flee at the first sign of danger.

Just as Lu Qing’s party was arranging their camp, inside the largest inn of the town, a gathering of powerful figures sat in silence, faces grim.

"Unbelievable!" boomed a broad-shouldered man with a massive axe strapped to his back, slamming his palm on the table and standing up. "Wang Pan, what kind of intent is this? We’ve come from across Yun Zhou, dozens of sects united in one purpose, and you greet us with this broken inn? Is this not a deliberate insult?"

"Master Zhao, you misunderstand," replied a tall man in white robes, bowing deeply with a warm smile. "The Liu Yun Zong has always been known for its hospitality. It’s simply that your arrival was sudden—our mountain supplies are limited, and we were unprepared to host so many guests properly. For now, we’ve offered you lodging in the town. Please forgive the inconvenience."

"Face it, you’re being treated like beggars," muttered another, but the man’s words were drowned out by the smile on Wang Pan’s face.

One couldn’t strike a smiling face.

The broad-shouldered man glared, but sat back down, grumbling. Others hesitated to press the issue.

But when Wang Pan mentioned the sect’s famed hospitality, a few exchanged uneasy glances. Everyone knew the Liu Yun Zong’s reputation—brutal, domineering, and merciless across Yun Zhou. To hear Wang Pan, the so-called "smiling tiger," claim they were hospitable was nothing short of audacious.

"Then when will we be allowed to ascend the Flowing Cloud Mountain?" asked a clean-faced middle-aged man dressed like a scholar. "We’ve traveled far. Can we really be left waiting here indefinitely?"

"Rest assured, Master Dai," Wang Pan replied smoothly. "As soon as the guest rooms are cleaned and banquets prepared, we’ll open the mountain gates and welcome you with full honors—our way of showing respect as hosts."

No matter how politely he spoke, his smile never wavered. The effect was like hitting cotton—frustrating, ineffective, and impossible to counter.

"Hmph. No need!" A cold voice cut through the air from outside the inn.

The door burst open, and over a dozen powerful figures strode in.

At the front stood a middle-aged man with wide sleeves, his hair tied in a high bun, a long beard trailing down his chin, and a stern, commanding presence. Wang Pan’s expression flickered.

But before he could speak, another voice—dry and raspy—rang out.

"Dan Zong Zhu is right. The Liu Yun Zong has grown increasingly reckless in recent years. Do they really believe they’re the supreme power in Yun Zhou, the true leaders of the righteous path?"

As the words echoed, more figures entered.

At the forefront was a plain-looking middle-aged woman in gray robes. Behind her, however, followed over a dozen young women—beautiful, graceful, radiant with elegance.

"Liu Fu Gong Zhu, you’ve come as well?" the man with the high bun greeted with a slight bow.

"Dan Zong Zhu. Liu Fu Gong Zhu!" The other martial artists rose in unison, bowing respectfully.

Wang Pan’s eyes narrowed.

The arrival of both the Silver Moon Sect’s Master and the Deputy Palace Master of Bai Hua Gong was no good news for the Liu Yun Zong.

They could afford to ignore smaller sects. But the Silver Moon Sect and Bai Hua Gong—two of Yun Zhou’s top three sects—were not to be trifled with.

Though individually slightly weaker than the Liu Yun Zong, if they joined forces, combined with the smaller sects present, even the Liu Yun Zong would struggle to withstand them.

"Wang Pan, we’ve come," the Silver Moon Sect Master said, his voice icy. "But don’t pretend this is about hospitality. You’ve already lost any chance of goodwill."

"Dan Zong Zhu," Wang Pan forced a smile, bowing deeply. "Our Master has recently experienced a profound insight in martial cultivation. He has entered seclusion to deepen his understanding. As his disciple, I dare not disturb him—afraid of disrupting his breakthrough. I beg your forgiveness."

"Ah, such a coincidence," the Silver Moon Sect Master sneered. "I heard your sect’s heir, Mo Zhen’s son, was murdered recently. A son killed, and yet your master claims to have had a spiritual awakening? How cold-hearted and ruthless."

Wang Pan’s face darkened. "Dan Zong Zhu, I urge you to be careful with your words. Our Master is deeply grieved. I’ve seen him weep with sorrow myself. I ask you not to slander our family."

"Hmph," the Silver Moon Sect Master said coldly. "And what about my disciple? What happens when my disciple dies? You Liu Yun Zong used Mo Xuan’s death as an excuse to extort resources from every sect in Yun Zhou. How do you intend to settle that debt?"

"Master Dan," Wang Pan replied calmly, "we mourn your disciple’s passing deeply as well. He clashed with our sect’s Qiu Elder, acted aggressively, and didn’t reveal his sect identity. Qiu Elder believed him to be a disciple of the dark path, and in anger, struck too hard. It was a tragic misunderstanding—not premeditated murder. As for the extortion claims, that’s a grave mistake. Our Master had ordered an investigation into the heir’s death. But a few greedy disciples, driven by ambition, misused our orders to exploit others. We’ve already captured the guilty and will hand them over to you all after this matter is settled."

"Excellent," the Silver Moon Sect Master said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Truly excellent. You’ve not only cleared your sect of guilt, blaming it on a few rogue disciples, but you’ve even turned the tables—accusing my disciple of being a dark path cultivator!"

He let out a cold, bitter laugh. "No wonder Mo Zhen chose you as his favorite disciple. Your silver tongue is truly impressive—even I almost believe you."

"But let me be clear, Wang Pan," he continued, his voice hardening. "I didn’t come here to debate. If Mo Zhen doesn’t come out and answer for his crimes, then I’ll start with you—the most capable of his disciples. Let him feel the pain of losing a beloved student."

With a flick of his sleeve, the Silver Moon Sect Master moved.

His hand shot forth like a dragon’s claw, snaking from the fabric with terrifying speed, aimed directly at Wang Pan.

Wang Pan hadn’t expected a sect leader to act so recklessly—attacking in such a sneaky, close-quarters manner.

In shock, he twisted his body, creating multiple afterimages with rapid footwork, hoping to evade.

But his cultivation was no match for the Silver Moon Sect Master, who had long since reached the Zong Shi realm. The master effortlessly pierced through the illusions, saw through the deception, and seized Wang Pan’s shoulder in an instant.

"Come here."

With a sharp twist, the master broke Wang Pan’s shoulder blades with a sickening crack, then yanked him forward.

He gripped Wang Pan’s neck with one hand, his voice soft, almost gentle.

"If I snapped your neck right now… do you think your master would finally come out?"

"Dan Zong Zhu, wait!" The sudden violence shocked everyone—even the Deputy Palace Master of Bai Hua Gong, who leapt to her feet, shouting in alarm.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end