Within the city, Li Yan sensed two not-so-weak fluctuations of Spirit Power emanating from deep within the Imperial Palace. They were from two Foundation Establishment cultivators. Li Yan guessed they must be the cultivators from an immortal sect supporting the Imperial Dynasty—experts sent by some minor sect under the jurisdiction of the Malevolent Spirit Sect to stand guard here.
Besides the emperor himself, probably only the princes and the empress dowager had heard rumors of their existence, without knowing who among the palace staff was an immortal. They might even think it was all just a rumor deliberately spread by the emperor to intimidate would-be troublemakers. After all, they had never seen anyone who could fly through the sky or burrow through the earth. Over time, they had become skeptical.
The two Foundation Establishment cultivators were in seated meditation, completely unaware that a fellow cultivator like Li Yan had arrived in the Imperial Capital. Of course, cultivators like Li Yan, or even those with higher cultivation, occasionally passed through mortal capitals. But they were all well aware that The Four Great Sects had a hand in every mortal dynasty. They wouldn't dare cause trouble among mortals, not even if they had ten times the courage. Even sensing that only two minor Foundation Establishment cultivators were stationed here, they wouldn't dare to provoke them.
Although the secret archives of the Grand Council were rarely visited even during the day, Li Yan didn't want any complications. After all, officials did occasionally come to review documents. So, he waited until the dead of night to begin. Even though there were patrols at this time, they only passed by outside. No one would enter the archives to consult files now, which would have forced Li Yan to consider how to deal with them.
After setting up a screening restriction, Li Yan sat cross-legged in a corner of the room. Instantly, his Divine Sense split into countless invisible threads that shot toward the rows of bookshelves. The archival scrolls began to rise in orderly rows...
Time ticked by. Within the threads of his Divine Sense, a flood of information assaulted Li Yan's Sea of Consciousness. Ninety-nine percent of it was swiftly filtered out by him. Anything completely unrelated to the words "Li Yan" or "Green Mountain Pass" was discarded. Only when there was even the slightest connection would Li Yan's Divine Sense probe further.
The archival scrolls continuously floated up and then settled back down in neat rows...
Over an hour later, the meditating Li Yan's expression suddenly flickered. A scroll from a bookshelf thirty-five rows away immediately flew towards him and hovered in the air before him.
The scroll was sealed in a greased paper bag, the opening marked with a fiery red wax seal. Li Yan had no intention of breaking it. A dark light flashed in his eyes, and a strand of his Divine Sense pierced through the seal. Inside, he saw a wanted poster.
"Marshal Li Yan, stationed on the southern border, defeated the army of the State of Meng at 'Fallen Immortal Slope' on the tenth day of the fifth month in the thirty-seventh year of the Taishi era of the Imperial Dynasty. Went missing after returning to Green Mountain Pass to eliminate the traitor Kong Xiao. Anyone who sees this person is to report to the local authorities immediately. Upon verification, a reward of gold…"
This was the archival copy of a wanted poster. From its contents, it was clear that it was a notice issued by the court to find Li Yan after his disappearance. Li Yan calculated from the date at the bottom that the poster had been issued at least half a year after he had gone missing. This matched what Cui Feng had said about the court concealing the news to buy time for military deployments.
Of course, that wasn't what Li Yan was most concerned about at the moment. In the upper left corner of the poster was a portrait of a person, the artistry of which was quite refined. His Divine Sense focused entirely on the portrait, only to find that it bore at most a twenty to thirty percent resemblance to him. Furthermore, it depicted a square face, completely different from his own facial structure. Apart from a slight similarity in the eyebrows and mouth, anyone holding this portrait and standing next to him would never think there was any connection between them.
'For a wanted poster, even one drawn by an ordinary artist should have at least a sixty to seventy percent resemblance. And from this archival copy, the brushwork and details are extremely fine, not a hasty sketch. This shows the court took this matter very seriously; they must have hired a master painter. Furthermore, the artist would have had to rely on descriptions from those familiar with Li Yan, make repeated revisions, and get approval from reviewers before it could be issued. So why is there so little resemblance to me?'
For a moment, Li Yan thought he might have found the wrong person. But no matter how he analyzed it, the authenticity of this portrait should be over fifty percent. Yet why did Cui Feng insist he looked exactly like the Li Yan he had seen back then, even suspecting him of being an elaborately disguised impostor?
Li Yan frowned in thought for a moment, then placed the scroll back and continued his search.
Another half hour passed, and Li Yan retracted all his extended Divine Sense. He had to admit, with some frustration, that while there were indeed records of "Li Yan's" origins and some major battles among all the files, that "Li Yan" was not from the Great Green Mountains but from a place in the Imperial Dynasty called "Yuguan City." Li Yan clearly remembered this city was in the far north of the Imperial Dynasty, near the border of the territory under the Jingtu Sect's jurisdiction. He had passed through there once while searching for materials to refine his Gui-Yi Water-Parting Spike; he wouldn't misremember that.
That "Li Yan" was the descendant of a pugilist and had shown a great talent for martial arts since he was a phantom…
After reviewing all the information, what frustrated Li Yan the most was that there was only that one portrait on the wanted poster. If the court hadn't been looking for him, this archival copy might not even exist.
After looking through all the scrolls, Li Yan did not leave immediately. He remained seated cross-legged on the floor, lost in deep thought...
In Yuhai City, within the Duke's Manor, Cui Feng was circulating his energy and regulating his breath in his study. At his level of martial arts, two hours of sleep a night was more than enough. He had already cultivated a sliver of Innate True Qi, and he had a vague feeling that with a little more progress, he might reach a realm yet untouched by current martial arts.
It was now the middle of the night. Cui Feng, who was sitting in meditation with his eyes closed, suddenly twitched his ears. His eyes flew open. He reacted with extreme speed, gently pushing open a window. With a twist of his waist, he shot out of the room without a sound.
The moment his feet touched the ground, he pushed off again, twisting his waist, and leaped onto the roof like an incredibly agile wildcat. He then clasped his hands behind his back. Under the moonlight, the hem of his silver robe swayed gently in the wind, his silver hair like threads of silk and snow.
The guards patrolling the manor did not notice anything unusual about their general.
In several corners of the Duke's Manor, Lin Yuxing and the Shi Ning couple, who were on duty tonight, were spread out across the vast estate, equally oblivious.
Soon, a figure as faint as smoke appeared in Cui Feng's line of sight. The figure was initially on the rooftops of other manors, but with a few flickers, it had already entered the Duke's Manor. Even masters like Lin Yuxing and the Shi Ning couple were completely unaware, still hidden in the shadows, vigilantly watching their surroundings.
The figure's target was clear—it was heading straight for Cui Feng's study. But just as it crossed walls and leaped over rooftops from the front courtyard to the back, its figure suddenly came to an abrupt halt. It saw, under the moonlight, the indifferent face of Cui Feng, staring coldly at it.
"Since you dare to come to my manor, why hide your face? Show yourself!" Cui Feng's voice spread through the silent night. It wasn't loud, but it was like a clap of thunder in a clear sky.
Cui Feng saw that the intruder was of medium build, dressed in a tight black night-prowler's suit, with a pair of unknown weapons crossed on his back. His head and face were covered by a black hood, revealing only a pair of sharp, gleaming eyes.
"Oh? As expected of the Imperial Dynasty's number one master. You detected me so quickly!" the black-clad night-prowler's voice was somewhat shrill, as if he were deliberately pinching his throat to speak.
As the two spoke, the sound of hurried footsteps began to converge on their location from below. The entire Duke's Manor was surprisingly quiet; there was no clamor.
With the sound of clothes tearing through the night air, three figures were the first to arrive. It was Lin Yuxing and the Shi Ning couple. The black-clad night-prowler glanced at the assembling guards and Lin Yuxing's group and praised them inwardly.
'Truly soldiers trained by Cui Feng. They show no panic when faced with an enemy, but instead gather silently and swiftly!'
Lin Yuxing and the Shi Ning couple were one thing; they were renowned masters of the martial world, experienced in facing enemies in the night, and would naturally react with skill. The three of them moved with tacit understanding to surround him. But what surprised the night-prowler were the ordinary guards. There was no shouting or yelling, not even a single challenge. They had clearly heard Cui Feng's voice and were now assembling quickly according to military protocol, remaining as quiet as possible to hear their commander's next order.
"Number one master? I wouldn't dare claim such a title. There are many in the martial world more skilled than me, such as yourself, Your Excellency!" Cui Feng said, his tone icy.
"General Cui is too modest. You have dominated the martial world for nearly a century and have slain countless enemies on the battlefield. How could I compare to you?" the black-clad night-prowler said, watching as the people around them drew closer.
Suddenly, he pushed off the rooftop, launching himself into the air. He tucked his head, arched his back, touched the tips of his feet together, and crossed his hands into a tiger's claw, swiping down at Cui Feng's Celestial Crown.
Cui Feng felt a fierce gust of wind approach. Without any visible movement, he simply shifted his footing, sidestepping the vital point. He raised a hand and slapped upward and diagonally. With this slap, a "whosh!" sound was heard, and a faintly visible pillar of wind materialized in the air. Though the palm had not yet arrived, the wind it generated made the black-clad night-prowler's clothes flap wildly as he dove through the air.
The next moment, with a "Bang!", their claw and palm collided. A powerful shockwave spread out from between them.
The black-clad night-prowler was sent tumbling backward through the air. After several flips, his feet landed heavily on a thick tree branch nearby. The massive tree was shaken by the immense force, its green leaves falling like snowflakes. With a "crack!", the branch, as thick as an arm, snapped. The night-prowler fell again. Tapping another branch with his toes, his body swayed a few times before he finally regained his balance.
On the roof, Cui Feng slid backward as if on ice, but the tips of his feet were firmly hooked onto the roof ridge. The tiles beneath him shattered as he passed. He slid back seven or eight feet before his figure came to a steady halt.
A single exchange had turned the courtyard into a mess, as if a tornado had swept through it, with broken tiles, branches, and shredded leaves flying everywhere.
"You are 'Ghost Flame Hand' Zhong Wusi! The rumors said you were poisoned to death by your enemies over thirty years ago. I didn't expect you to be alive. What brings you to my Imperial Dynasty? Simply to challenge me to a duel?"
Cui Feng glanced at his palm. There was a black, scorched mark on it, yet there had been no flames on his opponent's claws just now. As he circulated his internal energy, green liquid seeped from under the skin of the black mark, followed by fresh red blood. Only then did Cui Feng relax inwardly.