After the intense clash on the streets of Heaven's Whisper City, Ling Xian and Yan Ruyin took a quieter route through the city's outskirts. The sun dipped low beyond the city walls, casting long shadows that stretched across rooftops and cobbled roads.
They entered a tea house tucked away in a quiet alley. The air inside was still, and the scent of spiritual mist teas calmed the senses.
As they sat across from each other, Yan Ruyin finally broke the silence. "You scared him."
Ling Xian stirred his cup lightly, his gaze serene. "He needed to be reminded that power doesn't always come wrapped in golden robes and flashy cultivation."
Yan Ruyin tilted her head slightly, studying him. "Your cultivation… You're hiding it again."
Ling Xian nodded. "It's best this way. I've revealed too much already—to you, and those who don't deserve to know."
He had re-concealed his cultivation once more, now appearing only as a Body Tempering Realm – mid stage cultivator. It was a deliberate tactic, especially after the wave of killing intent he'd let loose. He had no desire to attract unnecessary eyes… not yet.
That moment of killing intent… it wasn't his alone. Deep within, the ancient essence of the God of Destruction had stirred. Though barely awakened, a sliver of its wrath had leaked out—just enough to suppress even a sect master-level expert. The same God who had once brought ruin to powerful sects, who had crippled entire clans for threatening those he held dear. That was the weight behind Ling Xian's threat—and the reason the elder had backed down without question.
Yan Ruyin hesitated before speaking again. "About the ingredients… Ming Shen needed?"
"I gave him the recipe," Ling Xian replied, his tone casual but firm. "From now on, he'll collect them himself."
Ruyin blinked. "But what if he can't—"
"He will," Ling Xian said, cutting her off gently. "And if he can't… then he doesn't deserve the result. Let this be his trial."
It was not coldness that guided his decision, but wisdom. Cultivation was a journey of struggle, and if Ming Shen wanted the power promised by the pill recipe, he had to earn it himself.
Ling Xian leaned back, sipping his tea.
"Besides," he added with a faint smile, "I've wasted enough time collecting things that others should be earning. It's time I focused on what matters."
Ruyin's expression turned thoughtful, then resolute. "Then what's next?"
Ling Xian's eyes narrowed slightly. "I'll deepen my foundation. This city is only the beginning. Once I've stabilized my strength… we'll return to the sect."
She nodded slowly. "And what about Jin Yuze?"
Ling Xian didn't answer.
But the faint pulse of killing intent that radiated from his body for just a breath was all the answer needed.
Later that evening, the streets began to thin as lanterns flickered to life. Ling Xian left the alley behind and began walking calmly, his steps steady but swift.
"We'll need a place to stay," he said.
After a short search, they arrived at a modest establishment nestled between an old talisman shop and a smithy — Cloudveil Resting Inn. The scent of incense and quietude greeted them.
Ling Xian approached the counter and spoke calmly to the innkeeper. "One quiet room. Top floor, if available."
The man smiled. "Ten spirit stones a night, honored guest."
Ling Xian instinctively reached into his sleeve, but his coin pouch was nearly empty. Before he could speak, Yan Ruyin stepped forward and handed the innkeeper a pouch.
"Two rooms. For three nights."
The innkeeper beamed and handed them each a brass key. "Top floor, corner suites. Private balcony included. May your stay be peaceful."
Once inside, Ling Xian sat cross-legged, the wooden floors cool beneath him. He breathed deeply, regulating the flow of his qi, allowing his body to sink into silent meditation. His presence diminished further, hidden deep beneath layers of suppression.
Outwardly, he was a simple cultivator in the Body Tempering Realm – mid stage.
Inwardly, a slumbering God stirred… and waited.
Yet that night, as moonlight bathed the rooftop tiles in silver, Ling Xian's thoughts did not rest.
He walked onto the balcony and leaned against the wooden rail, eyes fixed on the horizon.
"Three days," he muttered. "Three days until the auction. Until the next turn of fate."
Yan Ruyin stepped out beside him, arms folded across her chest. "You're worried."
"Not worried," he replied. "Focused. There's always something more beneath the surface at auctions like this. Ming Shen… he's no ordinary man. There's something about him."
Ruyin looked at him with a frown. "Do you trust him?"
Ling Xian didn't answer immediately.
"Trust is earned," he said at last. "But he's earned enough of my interest. For now."
Far across the city, in a towering manor draped in silks and guarded by formation arrays, Ming Shen stood beside a massive jade scroll.
"The ingredients are hard to find…" he mused. "Violet Flame Orchid Petal. **Ninefold Jade Spirit Root **Sky-Searing Cinnabar Essence… This pill isn't just rare. It's mythical."
He turned to his steward. "Gather them. All five. Spare no effort."
"Yes, Lord Ming!"
As servants moved like shadows in the moonlight, the gears of fate turned quietly.
Meanwhile, in the silent stillness of Cloudveil Resting Inn, a sleeping God dreamed of fire, destruction, and love lost to the heavens.
To be continued...