"Rise," Zhu Yanghai said, slowly pulling Zhi Xuan to a standing position. "Three hundred years, and you have achieved Weaver Transformation. Returning with this level of cultivation... I was not wrong to let you wander out there alone, Zhi Xuan."

  Zhu Yanghai stared intently into Zhi Xuan’s sapphire eyes, searching for a trace of the youth whose strength he had once tested. However, all he found was an endless depth, like staring into an abyss inhabited by an ancient dragon.

  "Good! Very good!" Zhu Yanghai exclaimed again, his voice echoing across the square, causing the imperial guards to slowly lower their weapons, their faces filled with confusion. "There is no need for such a commotion. Ascend to the Zhu Clan Pavilion. From the look on your face, many questions will soon be answered."

  Zhu Yanghai flicked his robes gently and turned to face the Imperial core soldiers. "This is Zhi Xuan. The figure who shook the Xing Luo Plain hundreds of years ago, as well as the Feng Mie and Yao Gu Plains. The man who played a major role in winning the Three Plains Competition—the Fifth Envoy."

  Upon hearing the proclamation from Zhu Yanghai, all the Imperial core soldiers simultaneously sheathed their weapons. They bowed deeply, offering the respect reserved only for the pillars of the state. The title of Fifth Envoy was not merely a position; it was a rank symbolizing the supremacy and past glory of the Hongmeng Empire.

  Zhi Xuan followed Zhu Yanghai up the white marble stairs leading to the Ancient Zhu Clan Pavilion. Every step they took felt like ascending layers of clouds, leaving the bustle of the Imperial City beneath their feet.

  "You have returned at the right time, or perhaps... at the most troublesome time," Zhu Yanghai said without turning back, his voice lowering so only Zhi Xuan could hear. "You must have heard the news after passing through the Imperial City, haven't you?"

  Zhi Xuan snorted softly, his eyes fixed straight ahead on the pavilion gate carved with the relief of a snow phoenix. "I heard the name Wan Xing mentioned. A Weaver from the Western Continent."

  Zhu Yanghai chuckled, though his laugh held a cynical edge. "Wan Xing is but one of many flies trying to approach the lotus flower. He is indeed talented, reaching the Weaver stage at a young age. However, he was arrogant enough to send grand gifts to me, thinking he could soften my heart to grant him permission to approach Qinglan."

  "And you accepted them?" Zhi Xuan asked in a flat tone, though a cold flash flickered in his eyes.

  "Of course I accepted them," Zhu Yanghai replied with a broad grin that revealed his pragmatic nature. "If there is a fool willing to give free resources to the Zhu clan, why should I refuse? Besides, Qinglan wouldn't even deign to look at his face. My sister... since you left, her heart has frozen into eternal ice that no fire can melt."

  They arrived at the vast terrace of the Zhu Clan Pavilion. From there, the magnificent panorama of the entire Imperial City stretched out. A strong wind blew, playing with Zhi Xuan’s dark purple hair. In the center of the pavilion, a jade stone table had been prepared with a tea jar emitting the aroma of heavenly flowers.

  Zhu Yanghai sat on a silk-cushioned chair and poured tea into two thin porcelain cups. "Sit. We need to talk as fellow Weaver practitioners."

  Zhi Xuan sat down. He reached for the teacup but did not drink. His eyes were fixed on a tall building in the distance—the private residence of the Sacred Fairy located within the Imperial Palace grounds, a place where spiritual energy was exceptionally pure, supported by both the Empire and the Ancient Zhu Clan.

  "Where is she?" Zhi Xuan asked briefly.

  Zhu Yanghai sipped his tea slowly, letting the steam warm his face. "She is in the final stages of closed-door cultivation in her private pavilion. Don’t worry; she has surely felt your arrival."

  Zhu Yanghai paused for a moment, his face turning serious. "However, there is a problem. Wan Xing and several other geniuses have requested permission from the Emperor to hold a Dao Discussion with Qinglan under the Sky Moon Tree. The Emperor, due to diplomatic considerations with the Western Continent, cannot reject the request directly."

  Zhi Xuan placed his teacup back on the table. The sound of porcelain hitting stone was quiet, yet it triggered a ripple of essence that froze the surface of the tea inside the pot.

  "Dao Discussion?" Zhi Xuan hissed, calmly tapping his finger on the arm of the chair. "The Western Continent... does that mean they originate from the same Ancient Clan territory?"

  "Correct," Zhu Yanghai replied, placing his teacup on the table. He looked toward the Ancient Hua Clan Pavilion located far across the Imperial Palace. "Hua Tianming naturally thinks the same as I do. The Ancient Hua Clan believes that Wan Xing and the other geniuses are merely seeking their own misfortune."

  "Those geniuses assume that because you stand with the Ancient Zhu and Hua Clans behind you, you are someone who relies on us," Zhu Yanghai continued, a meaningful smile spreading at the corner of his lips. "Therefore, they do not hesitate to come and try to win over the two Ancient Clans."

  Zhi Xuan leaned back, letting his black-and-white robes hang over the side of the jade chair. His sapphire eyes glinted as he listened to Zhu Yanghai’s explanation. "Relying on the Ancient Clans? It seems hundreds of years of my absence have erased their memory of how I once earned all of this."

  "The world does indeed have a short memory, Zhi Xuan," Zhu Yanghai remarked as he repoured the tea that had melted from Zhi Xuan’s aura. "To those coming from distant continents, you are just a name in a history book that has likely been exaggerated. Wan Xing, with the arrogance of his talent, feels that the title 'Fifth Envoy' is just an empty honor given due to your close relationship with the court."

  "Forget about that for now," Zhu Yanghai continued, sipping his tea again. "In these three hundred years, what did you find in that Sacred Land?"

  Zhi Xuan closed his eyes for a moment, letting the echoes of Yao Gu pass like a distant dream. "Much has happened," he answered briefly. "I found several interesting things there. Fortunately, I faced no trouble from the Ancient Han Clan or the Sacred Woman of Yao Gu. Other than that, I only had a few minor issues in the southern region and the western region ruled by the Sky Leaf Sacred Pavilion."

  Zhu Yanghai raised his eyebrows, slightly surprised, then laughed softly. "Sky Leaf Sacred Pavilion? You offended them and still managed to walk out of Yao Gu intact? Zhi Xuan, you truly haven't changed. Wherever you set foot, you always leave a trail of storms."

  "So it seems," Zhi Xuan said, exhaling slowly before looking at Zhu Yanghai. "What about Mei Hua? Did she disappear under the watch of Holy Daughter Hua Lian Xi?"

  Zhu Yanghai set his cup down with a firm motion, his laughter fading and replaced by a look of deep respect. He shook his head slowly, as if recalling a very striking memory.

  "Hua Lian Xi? That woman loves Mei Hua as if she were her own biological sister," Zhu Yanghai replied as he leaned back, his expression turning sharp. "But you are right, that little girl... hundreds of years ago, specifically in the one hundred and twentieth year—you were likely in the second Great Constellation at that time—Mei Hua vanished suddenly."

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  Zhi Xuan fell silent, his fingers that were previously tapping the chair arm now frozen. "Vanished? Within the protection of the Ancient Hua Clan?"

  "Don't misunderstand," Zhu Yanghai interrupted quickly, raising his hand to calm the surge of aura beginning to seep from Zhi Xuan’s body. "She wasn't kidnapped, nor was she in any danger that we knew of. The incident was very strange. Hua Lian Xi said that one afternoon, Mei Hua was sitting in their clan's lotus garden, talking to her Lulu doll about a 'tea party behind the clouds.' When Lian Xi turned for just a moment to grab some candied fruit, the girl was gone. No spatial fluctuations, no trace of essence—it was as if she had never been there at all."

  Zhi Xuan furrowed his brow; the memory of Mei Hua’s peculiar nature resurfaced—a girl who surpassed practitioner logic, did not age, and possessed secrets even he did not understand. "Did she ever return?"

  "No," Zhu Yanghai said honestly. "We kept it strictly under wraps so that not a word leaked to the outside world. That little girl you brought, the one you consider your adopted sister... she is truly very strange, Zhi Xuan."

  Zhi Xuan fell into a suffocating silence. The news of Mei Hua’s disappearance was something he hadn't anticipated. That little girl, in her ever-glistening cloud-silk dress and with the Lulu doll she never let go of, was the only being his Divine Sense had never been able to measure.

  "Vanished without a spatial trace..." Zhi Xuan murmured. He remembered how Mei Hua often spoke to her ragdoll as if it were a living entity with a status higher than the Gods. "This is the third time she has disappeared only to reappear unexpectedly."

  Zhu Yanghai nodded in agreement. "Zhu Qinglan was even worried back then that you would be angry upon your return, so she also tried to search—even as far as Emperor Dragon City, the place she remembered first meeting Mei Hua with you. But the result was the same: she was nowhere to be found."

  Zhi Xuan closed his eyes, letting the mountain wind sweep across his face. "Mei Hua is no ordinary girl. If she wishes to disappear, even ten Divine Transformation practitioners couldn't hold her. I don't blame Qinglan, nor do I blame the Hua clan. There is a destiny binding that girl that even I am not yet capable of unraveling."

  Zhu Yanghai exhaled in relief, the tension in his shoulders loosening slightly. "I'm glad you're thinking clearly. Hua Tianming almost lost face, feeling he failed to guard your message. But now, it seems my sister can no longer sustain her closed-door cultivation."

  Zhu Yanghai had not even finished his sentence when the temperature in the Zhu Clan Pavilion dropped sharply. The dew clinging to the heavenly flower petals around the terrace instantly froze into beautiful yet sharp ice crystals. The sky above the pavilion, which was originally clear, was suddenly filled with falling snowflakes, dancing to the rhythm of a longing that had been suppressed for three centuries.

  Zhi Xuan stood up slowly.

  His heart, forged by hundreds of years of coldness, now beat with a very human vibration. He turned toward the private residence in the distance. The door of the ice pavilion opened silently, and a woman stepped out with an elegance that could make the moon feel ashamed to show itself.

  Zhu Qinglan. She wore a sky-blue robe embroidered with gold thread forming a snow phoenix that shimmered under the morning sun. Her jet-black hair flowed like a night waterfall, framing a face whose beauty had become a legend across the plains. However, the most striking feature was her eyes—a pair of eyes usually as cold as a glacier’s peak, now appearing glassy as they caught sight of the man in black-and-white robes in the distance.

  Without a word, Zhu Qinglan stepped onto the air. Every footstep created an ice lotus that bloomed for a moment before vanishing. Within a few blinks of an eye, she landed on the pavilion terrace, only a few steps away from Zhi Xuan. Silence reigned over the place. Even Zhu Yanghai chose to step aside for a moment, giving space to the two souls separated by fate and dimensions.

  "You..." Qinglan’s voice was parau, broken by unbearable emotion. "You really came back."

  Zhi Xuan stared at her, his sapphire eyes softening to their deepest point. He saw the changes in her—her cultivation had now reached the middle stage of Weaver Transformation, her aura was far purer, yet her gaze remained that of the girl who had once waited for him under the willow tree.

  "This Zhi has returned, Sacred Fairy—" Before Zhi Xuan could finish his sentence, his collar was yanked down as he was grabbed by Zhu Qinglan, who suddenly appeared before him.

  Even Zhu Yanghai could only manage a wry smile and a slight nod, his face straining to hold back a laugh, before he flicked his robes and vanished, accompanied by the sight of the teacup trembling slightly.

  Zhi Xuan winced, his body stiffening for a moment as he felt Qinglan’s slender fingers gripping the collar of his black-and-white robes with a strength that belied her graceful figure. Her breath felt warm against his skin, mixing with the scent of ice and heavenly fragrance he had always missed.

  Zhi Xuan tried to move his fingers to lessen the pressure and gently release her grip, but he immediately felt the skin of his chest being pinched and twisted, causing him to let out a low yelp. He winced even deeper, letting out a hiss that sounded more like a chick returning to its mother’s nest.

  "You dare use spiritual energy to try and escape me?" Zhu Qinglan hissed. Her voice was soft, without even an intent to harm, yet it was enough to make Zhi Xuan shiver.

  "No... I wouldn't dare," Zhi Xuan whispered hoarsely, letting his body bend slightly to match the height of Qinglan, who was still gripping his collar. "I was only worried... that this robe would hurt your hands."

  Zhu Qinglan snorted coldly, but her grip slowly loosened, though her hands then moved to cup the sides of Zhi Xuan’s face. Her cold fingers brushed against his jawline and collarbone, staring at the left half of his body which was still pitch black and adorned with pulsating slaughter runes.

  "Three hundred years," Qinglan whispered, her voice trembling between anger and overflowing relief. "You left with only a promise that nearly faded in my ears. And look at this—how many times have you killed? How many times have you spread disaster so that your forehead bears such a pattern?"

  "My path has never been far from blood, Qinglan," Zhi Xuan replied lowly, his voice now as soft as the rustle of the night wind. He waved one hand, and immediately the lotus box appeared. "I have returned, giving back what you gave to me when I left before in Emperor Dragon City, under the shade of the willow tree."

  Zhu Qinglan was stunned, her gaze shifting from Zhi Xuan’s face to the ice jade lotus bud floating in the man’s palm. The pale blue light seeping from between the jade petals seemed to call to the coldness within her body, creating a resonance that made her heart race.

  Slowly, Zhi Xuan touched the surface of the box. With the sound of an extremely fine crystal chime, the lotus bud bloomed, revealing a Bu Yao whose beauty surpassed any jewelry Zhu Qinglan had ever seen or worn.

  "The Tears of Xiangu..." Qinglan whispered, her eyes widening in disbelief. As a practitioner of the path of ice and purity, she recognized the legendary crystal said to be the manifestation of an ancient goddess’s compassion.

  Zhi Xuan took the Bu Yao with an extremely careful motion. The black stem of ancient pine essence looked striking between his long fingers. "The stem represents the steadfastness of the pine in the middle of a storm, and the droplets represent the tranquility I hope always accompanies you when I am not by your side."

  Without waiting for consent, Zhi Xuan raised his hand. With an unexpected gentleness from a slaughterer who had just emerged from the underworld, he tucked the Bu Yao into Qinglan’s flowing jet-black hair. As the crystal droplets touched her hair, a heavenly clink-clink sound echoed, spreading a wave of tranquility that instantly calmed all the anger and anxiety in Qinglan’s soul.

  Qinglan froze, the hand that had been cupping Zhi Xuan’s face now hanging limp against his chest. She could feel a pure, cool air flowing from her head, seeping into her meridians and washing her soul, which for three hundred years had felt dry from waiting.

  "You truly are a Devil who knows no rules," Qinglan said softly, but this time there was no coldness in her voice. She leaned her forehead against Zhi Xuan’s shoulder, letting the scent of wine and pine from his body fill her senses. "Leaving without word, then returning only to decorate my hair."

  In the distance, behind a pillar carved with dragons, Zhu Yanghai—who had been peeping all along—could only shake his head while stroking his chin. "Utterly mad. My ice-cold sister actually melted over a piece of jewelry. If Wan Xing saw this, he would vomit blood on the spot."

  The silence lasted a long time. Then, they both stepped back as two lights—rainbow and gold—shot out from Zhi Xuan’s body, revealing the figures of Xiao Die and Ao Sheng standing between them. They stood with their backs to Zhi Xuan, looking toward Zhu Qinglan.

  "Wow, Senior Aunt Zhu!" Xiao Die chirped. The heavenly moth seemed so joyful to be reunited with Zhu Qinglan. "I am Xiao Die! You saw me in my heavenly moth form back at the Purification Pond in the Thousand Heavens Sect long ago!"

  Ao Sheng, beside her, looked at Zhu Qinglan with full recognition, having met her in the same place hundreds of years ago. "Senior Sister Zhu, I am the Golden Dragon who was once freed from the Shi Clan by Emperor Hongmeng and also Senior Zhi Xuan here."