Chapter 89

The air in Chengtian Hall grew subtly strained.
Star Lord Baibiao, for his part, remained indifferent to the reactions around him. His task was merely to convey the will of the Emperor. What others made of it—that was none of his concern.
After all, managing public sentiment—whether praise or slander—and balancing rival factions was part of what made one worthy of the Celestial Throne.
Baibiao was a busy man. Showing up in person was already above and beyond—of course, he wouldn’t stay to chat. After exchanging a few polite formalities with Ling Qingxiao, he turned to leave.
Ling Qingxiao personally escorted him toward the gates of Chengtian Hall.
But just as they reached the entrance, a disciple came running over in a panic. He spotted Ling Qingxiao, eyes lighting up—then froze when he noticed the high official from the Celestial Court.
His face stiffened instantly.
Baibiao immediately understood and smiled. “Since you’re needed, Clan Head Ling, I’ll take my leave here. No need to escort me further.”
“Star Lord is too kind,” Ling Qingxiao replied with perfect calm. “Zhongshan has always been open and forthright. There’s nothing here that needs to be kept secret.” He turned to the disciple. “Speak. What is it?”
The disciple hesitated—surely this wasn’t something to be said in front of a Celestial envoy?
But Ling Qingxiao’s expression was steady, no sign of performance. The disciple had no choice but to bow his head and report formally:
“Clan Head...there’s news from below. It’s about Young Master Zhongyu. They say...he has fallen to demonic cultivation. And he’s changed his surname. From now on, he calls himself Ye Zhongyu.”
Ling Zhongyu had long been exiled from Zhongshan, stricken from the ancestral records. No one dared refer to him as Eldest Young Master anymore, nor even by his full name. All anyone could say was...“Young Master Zhongyu.”
Ling Qingxiao showed no ripple of emotion. “He is no longer of the Ling Clan. Whatever name he chooses is his own matter. As for his betrayal of the heavens—Ye Zhongyu is now a traitor to the Celestial Realm. Zhongshan, as a clan of immortals, has always aligned itself with Heaven’s interests. From this day forward, we shall spare no effort in exterminating remnants of the demonic path and upholding justice.”
He paused. His voice turned icy.
“Pass my command: from this moment on, should any disciple of Zhongshan encounter Ye Zhongyu, they are to take the lead in eliminating him—to show the world our unwavering stance against the demonic. Should any be found to have warned him, aided him, acted in duplicity, or defected to him, they will be charged with treason against the sect—no exceptions.”
The disciple broke out in a cold sweat but quickly bowed and acknowledged the command.
Star Lord Baibiao stood quietly to the side, listening with folded sleeves. A smile slowly spread across his face—so this was why Ling Qingxiao had chosen to speak so publicly. From the start, he must have known what the report would be. Everything he’d just declared was clearly meant for Baibiao’s ears.
Baibiao gave a courteous smile and cupped his hands. “The Celestial Barge awaits just ahead. Patriarch Ling, no need to see me off. I shall take my leave.”
Ling Qingxiao bowed slightly in return. “Safe journey, Star Lord.”
Once Baibiao departed, Ling Qingxiao returned to the main hall—only to be greeted by a change in atmosphere. Many of the guests now regarded him with different eyes.
He paid it no mind.
The moment he reappeared, a crowd gathered around him. Some came to pry for information, others to flatter, and still more to curry favor. Ling Qingxiao responded politely but dispassionately. Though his face remained composed, his mind was already elsewhere.
His gaze had settled on someone.
Luo Han, seated in a side hall with Ye Zinan and Zou Jibai, was laughing as they spoke. Her features were elegant and bright, naturally drawing the eye.
Before long, Yi Huaxuan made his way over to her.
Ling Qingxiao’s brow furrowed. Yi Huaxuan? What’s he doing over there?
Someone nearby was still rambling on about distant familial ties and great-uncle relationships. After going on for quite a while without receiving a response, he finally looked up—only to find Ling Qingxiao staring coldly into the distance, face dark and stormy.
“Patriarch Ling...is something wrong?”
Ling Qingxiao blinked, slowly returning to himself. “It’s nothing.”
The man tried to recover the conversation, but Ling Qingxiao cut in directly: “Apologies, I just remembered an urgent matter that requires my attention. Please excuse me.”
Though his tone remained courteous, there was no mistaking it—this wasn’t a request. It was a dismissal.
None dared stop him. The crowd parted, and they could only watch as Ling Qingxiao strode—straight toward the side hall.
Wait...wasn’t he going to handle urgent business? Why was he headed there?
Then, before their very eyes, he approached a particular woman and—casually—asked, “What are you all talking about?”
The group he’d just left: “…?”
Luo Han looked up in surprise. “You’re back already? I thought there were still so many people trying to speak with you.”
Ling Qingxiao answered evenly, “There were.” Then, glancing at Yi Huaxuan, he added coolly, “What brings Young Master Yi here?”
Ye Zinan raised a brow. Was it just me, or was that laced with vinegar? This was a public celebration—Yi Huaxuan had every right to be anywhere. What was with the tone?
Ye Zinan quietly took a step back, watching the drama unfold with unconcealed interest.
Yi Huaxuan immediately sensed the hostility—it was far too obvious. The moment Ling Qingxiao had reentered the room, he’d been glancing this way repeatedly. And now, here he was, directly inserting himself into their conversation.
There had always been tension between them, but in the presence of a beautiful woman, the rivalry had clearly escalated.
Yi Huaxuan replied smoothly, “Miss Luo and I found ourselves quite in sync—one conversation, and it felt as though we were old friends. As it happens, we both enjoy traveling. If fate permits, perhaps we could journey together someday.”
Luo Han recognized it as a polite platitude. Yi Huaxuan wasn’t actually proposing a trip, but etiquette demanded she respond graciously.
Just as she opened her mouth to answer, Ling Qingxiao cut in:
“She’ll be entering seclusion soon. Travel won’t be possible. Young Master Yi would be better off going alone.”
Luo Han's lips parted—then closed again. Seclusion? I’m going into seclusion?
When did that happen?
Ye Zinan looked like he was watching his favorite drama unfold. Zou Jibai, oblivious as ever, grinned. “You’re going into seclusion, Luo Han? How long? Yi Huaxuan was just telling us a bunch of people have mysteriously vanished in the First Heaven—sounds pretty thrilling. Why don’t we check it out first, then you can shut yourself away afterward?”
Luo Han hesitated. When exactly did I say I was planning to go into seclusion?
With Ling Qingxiao standing right there, she couldn’t just call him out. Instead, she smiled awkwardly. “I’m not sure yet. I haven’t decided. Anyway, about the First Heaven—what’s going on there?”
The topic had been brought up by Yi Huaxuan, who seized the chance to explain.
“The First Heaven borders the Milky Way. The spiritual energy is already highly unstable there—some areas barely differ from the mortal realm. Most who live there are either newly ascended from the lower world or those with poor spiritual roots who’ve lived in the lower heavens for generations.”
“Population turnover in those places is high. People going missing isn’t unusual. But recently, the disappearances have been far too frequent. At first, we assumed they were just moving on, but the numbers kept rising, and now...it’s alarming.”
Luo Han frowned. “Who’s gone missing?”
“Mostly low-level native immortals or unaffiliated rogue cultivators,” Yi Huaxuan said. “And that’s exactly why it’s suspicious. These people live quiet lives, rarely interact with the outside world. No one pays much attention when they vanish. One or two is coincidence. But case after case? That smells like deliberate targeting.”
Luo Han grew thoughtful. Yi Huaxuan, seeing her interest, pressed further: “If you’re inclined, I can request the investigation myself. Once your seclusion ends, we could go together to the First Heaven and uncover the truth.”
Before she could respond, she suddenly realized—everyone was watching her.
Yi Huaxuan looked at her expectantly. Ye Zinan’s smile was far too knowing. As for Ling Qingxiao—he hadn’t spoken a word, but the glacial aura radiating from his body made it clear enough.
It felt like watching a child sulk over losing a toy. Luo Han didn’t know why that image popped into her mind—but it did.
She gave a light laugh, trying to ease the tension. “I haven’t decided anything yet. Let’s wait until the celebration’s over—then we’ll talk.”
Classic neutral answer. Luo Han was a pro at smoothing things over.
Yi Huaxuan knew not to press. Ling Qingxiao seemed just satisfied enough, the oppressive chill around him slightly receding.
Only Ye Zinan let out a long, disappointed sigh—What a pity. I thought someone was going to throw a punch.
Zou Jibai looked from one person to another, finally catching on that...something felt off.
Had he missed something again?
Zou Jibai glanced around, confused. Clearly, something had happened under his nose—again.
Luo Han hadn’t given Yi Huaxuan a clear answer, but she had taken his words to heart. That night, back in her room, she immediately opened her interface and tuned it to the First Heaven.
In the celestial realm, the gap between rich and poor was vast. The lower heavens housed over 90% of the immortal population, yet barely 10% of the spiritual energy. Those who lingered in the lower realms were usually either untalented or unambitious. The further down one went, the more resources thinned—by the time you reached the First Heaven, it was no different from the mortal world.
It was precisely this kind of place where disappearances could easily go unnoticed.
Luo Han opened the population registry—and sure enough, many names had inexplicably gone gray. Even more startling: the disappearances had begun much earlier than Yi Huaxuan had assumed.
Her expression darkened. She was definitely going to the First Heaven.
As she was analyzing the missing names for patterns, a quiet knock sounded at the door. Three taps. Light, measured, evenly spaced. She didn’t need to open the door to know who it was.
With a flick of spiritual power, she opened it remotely. Without turning, she said, “You’re here.”
They’d been through this enough times that she no longer bothered with formalities.
Ling Qingxiao entered as if it were his own home and made his way straight to the east wing. Seeing Luo Han scribbling across her panel, he asked knowingly, “Still thinking about the First Heaven?”
“Mm.” Luo Han nodded. “It feels like more than just disappearances. There’s something bigger going on behind it.”
Ling Qingxiao sat across from her and brushed off his sleeves with practiced grace. “If it worries you that much, we should go take a look.”
Luo Han raised her eyes, surprised. Ling Qingxiao caught her expression and arched a brow. “What? Do you think I don’t even have that much sense of justice?”
“It’s not that,” she said. “I just thought...you wouldn’t be thrilled about me going there with them.”
Ling Qingxiao paused. His tone was casual. “Discreet investigations should avoid drawing attention. Too many people wouldn’t help.”
“So?”
“Once the ceremony ends, I’ll go with you,” he said, smooth and certain. “To avoid notice, we should keep a low profile. Yi Huaxuan carries the title of Kunshan’s Young Master—wherever he goes, he attracts too much attention. That wouldn’t be ideal.”
Luo Han looked at him with growing amusement. She set her brush down, leaned against the table with one arm, and smiled. “You make a good point. But since Ye Zinan and Zou Jibai are with us too, having more people means more help. If we don’t want Yi Huaxuan involved, we can just tell them secretly. The five of us can leave together after the ceremony.”
Ling QingXiaolifted the teapot and poured her a cup with the elegance of someone born to command. He placed it gently by her hand and said lightly, “More people, more help? Not necessarily.”
Luo Han nearly laughed aloud. He really just said that. He was talking about his old teammates, no less.
The Ling Qingxiao of the past had been so sincere, so upright—look at him now, playing games like a schemer.
She quickly hid her smile behind her sleeve and raised her head with a straight face. “You’re right. Then...we don’t tell Ye Zinan and Zou Jibai?”
“Correct.” After a brief pause, he added, “Best not to tell anyone. We’re traveling incognito—secrecy is key.”
“Got it,” Luo Han nodded. “So when do we leave?”
“After the ceremony.” He took out a storage pouch and placed it before her. “Everything’s already prepared. The moment the celebration ends, we’ll depart the next day.”
Luo Han picked up the pouch, feeling its weight. Of course. From the start, it only ever contained supplies for two.
She didn’t call him out—instead, she nodded in agreement. “You’ve really thought of everything.”
Only now did Ling Qingxiao feel a genuine sense of ease, as if a weight he’d carried all day had finally lifted.
And truth be told, while his comments about Ye Zinan and Zou Jibai were a bit harsh...they weren’t exactly wrong. For most people, more allies meant more strength. But next to Ling Qingxiao, a hundred Zou Jibais combined wouldn’t amount to much.
Even before the trip began, he had already arranged their full itinerary—lodging, route, departure time, sequence of travel, even daily objectives—all meticulously planned. With Ling Qingxiao around, they truly didn’t need anyone else.
—
The succession ceremony concluded in a flurry of celebration.
On the fifth day, guests began taking their leave. When the final visitor departed, the disciples of Zhongshan let out a collective breath of relief.
The atmosphere on the mountain relaxed. People moved slowly, cleaning and organizing.
And in the midst of it all, without anyone noticing, the clan head vanished at dawn.
—
Aboard the flying vessel, Luo Han asked, “It’s a crucial period of transition for Zhongshan. Won’t your sudden disappearance affect things?”
“It won’t,” Ling Qingxiao replied with complete calm. “All the necessary assignments have already been arranged. They just have to follow them. My presence is unnecessary.”
Luo Han blinked. “You assigned months’ worth of tasks...to that many people...in advance?”
Ling Qingxiao nodded lightly. “Mm.”
Luo Han didn’t know whether to admire him or pity his subordinates. Having a boss like this...a blessing? Or a curse?
Thanks to Ling Qingxiao’s planning, the journey—though long—was exceptionally comfortable.
After all, most problems in the world could be solved with money. And Ling Qingxiao happened to be wealthier than anyone should be.
Even before taking over Zhongshan, he’d been well-off. But now, his resources had multiplied exponentially. Zhongshan, with its long and storied history, had accumulated wealth beyond comprehension. Take Tianzhao City, for instance—one auction alone could rake in tens of millions of top-grade spirit stones. And that was just one city.
Add together all the cities under Zhongshan’s jurisdiction, and the annual tax revenue alone was an astronomical figure.
Ling Qingxiao wasn’t just rich.
He was absurdly, obscenely, terrifyingly rich.
And though the dragon race was notoriously obsessed with hoarding wealth, Ling Qingxiao was considered one of the more detached ones.
But when it came to practical matters...his business acumen made Zou Jibai look like a child playing with pebbles.
What was even more frustrating was that Ling Qingxiao didn’t even think he was managing money. He genuinely believed all of this was just...common sense.
…It was honestly a little heartbreaking.
Thanks to the power of wealth, the journey—though long—had passed in comfort. Luo Han barely noticed as two full months flew by. At last, they arrived at the First Heaven.
She stood at the edge of the flying vessel, watching as jagged peaks rose on both sides. In the west, sunset clouds blazed across the sky, casting streaks of crimson like ribbons of fire. A river twisted its way through steep cliffs, and great skyships slowly descended, following the rock face in a calm procession.
At the end of the passage stood two colossal statues of the Xuan Nu—the Mysterious Goddess.
The one on the left wore a serene expression, eyes lowered, scattering petals from her hand. The one on the right glared with righteous fury, a sharp sword in her grasp.
Between them floated a massive, circular array disk, shimmering with rippling blue light like the surface of water.
Luo Han turned and asked, “What is that?”
“The entry array for the city,” Ling Qingxiao replied. “Jiuren City is close to the Milky Way and crisscrossed by water routes. There’s a lot of trade traffic. If they stopped every ship to verify identity, it would take forever. So they created this verification array. As long as your vessel’s permit matches the entry rune pattern, you can pass through directly.”
Luo Han nodded in understanding.
Jiuren was a river city, entirely different from continental cities like Tianzhao. As always, Ling Qingxiao had handled everything—they passed through the glowing barrier without the slightest hitch. Luo Han hadn’t even noticed when the authorization was arranged.
By now, the sun had nearly set. Wind whipped across the river, growing stronger by the minute. Luo Han disembarked, glancing back at the water, where waves surged with the energy of arriving ships. Countless skyships bobbed at the dock, and in the near distance, the Milky Way stretched across the horizon—vast and strange.
As more ships docked, their spiritual energy stirred the waters, setting off wave after wave. The floating platforms along the harbor rose and fell in a slow rhythm.
Ling Qingxiao steadied her by the arm and reminded her gently, “The wind is stronger near the water. Be careful.”
Gazing out at the river, Luo Han couldn’t help remembering the day they buried the Demon-Sealing Stone during the Middle Era. She had been there too, watching as the desolate riverbed stretched empty and silent. Now, it had transformed into a bustling hub.
She asked quietly, “Isn’t one of the Demon-Sealing Stones buried nearby?”
Ling Qingxiao glanced into the distance and shook his head. “This section lies between the fifteenth and sixteenth stones. But the actual burial site isn’t here.”
Luo Han hadn’t expected much—she nodded and moved on.
The docks were uneven and shifting, but the moment they reached solid ground, the scene shifted entirely. The streets weren’t as wide as those in Tianzhao, but they were lively—overflowing with street vendors and open tea stalls. Shops spilled out onto the pavement on both sides.
Jiuren’s roads were already narrow, and now they were choked with stalls and displays, leaving just enough room for three people to walk side by side.
Luo Han had already had to make way several times. She sighed. “They say local customs shape local people. This place and Tianzhao feel like polar opposites.”
Tianzhao was meticulous to the point of obsession; Jiuren was relaxed to the point of chaos.
Ling Qingxiao carefully shielded her from the crowd—keeping anyone from bumping into her or brushing the edge of his robe. He was clearly not enjoying the experience.
He muttered, “Jiuren’s urban management is atrocious. If they planned to open shops, why design such narrow roads? And why allow merchants to occupy the entire street without regulation?”
Luo Han couldn’t help laughing. “This is the First Heaven. Their customs are much closer to the mortal realm. Bustling market streets like these are common among mortals. You can’t compare it to Tianzhao.”
The higher the heavens, the more solemn and dignified the immortal presence. But in the lower heavens, this kind of free-flowing, boisterous street life was the norm.
After spending so much time in the upper heavens, being back in the streets felt almost...nostalgic.
She wandered from stall to stall and noticed many of them selling red cords. Curiosity piqued, she picked one up. “What are these?”
The vendor, a cheerful, talkative middle-aged man, saw the strikingly beautiful pair stop at his stall and greeted them enthusiastically. “Young lady, are you engaged yet?”
Luo Han instinctively glanced at Ling Qingxiao, then replied, slightly embarrassed, “Why do you ask?”
“So you’re not engaged!” the vendor said triumphantly. Glancing back and forth between the two of them, he launched into rapid-fire explanation. “Then you have to buy one! These are the Red Cords of the Xuan Nu—used for prayers during the upcoming Goddess Festival. Whether you want love or children, just tie one of these and make a wish to the goddess. Guaranteed results!”
“If marriage and kids aren’t your concern,” he added quickly, “you can still use them to pray for good luck, cleverness, or fortune. They’re versatile!”
Marriage and children? Luo Han had already set the cord down by that point. She could tolerate the man hawking his goods to others—but now he was trying to sell this to her?
The vendor, seeing her expression cool, doubled down. “Don’t underestimate it, young lady. These cords are very effective. I swear, the ones I sell are especially lucky. Back in the day, I didn’t have the courage to confess to my wife, so I slipped a red cord under her door. Would you believe—just a few days later, she said yes!”
From the stall beside him, someone burst out laughing. “Old Zhang, again with that story about your wife? You’ve told everyone a hundred times in the past century. Aren’t you tired of hearing yourself?”
Luo Han and Ling Qingxiao couldn’t help chuckling. Old Zhang clicked his tongue and waved them off. “Shoo, shoo. I’m telling my own romantic history—none of your business.”
Then he turned back to Ling Qingxiao with an eager gleam in his eye. “With things like marriage, better to believe than not. It’s a joyful thing, after all—even just buying one is a way to accumulate blessings!”
Ling Qingxiao caught the man’s look. Normally, he would’ve dismissed this sort of superstition out of hand. But now...something in his heart stirred faintly.
He hesitated.
Luo Han, however, was firm. She shook her head. “No need. I don’t need divine help for my marriage fate.”
Without missing a beat, the vendor chirped, “Then how about children? You two are at just the right age—have you considered starting a family?”
Luo Han froze, her expression briefly stiffening. She cast a quick glance toward Ling Qingxiao—only to find him standing there with complete composure, making no effort to clarify the misunderstanding.
Embarrassed, she cleared her throat and said, “We’re not married or engaged. Shopkeeper, please don’t speak so carelessly.”
The moment the words left her lips, she wished she could vanish on the spot. Flushed, she turned and walked away in a near-haste.
Ling Qingxiao watched her retreating back and frowned slightly. Was she angry?
The shopkeeper, completely unfazed, turned to him and said, “Not taking one? Girls are shy—they won’t say it out loud. Most young lovers who come by do the same. Once their partner leaves, they sneak back to buy one.”
Ling Qingxiao had been about to follow after her, but those words made him pause. “But...she seemed genuinely upset.”
“Eh,” the shopkeeper waved a hand. “If she were really mad, she’d have glared at you on the spot.”
Ling Qingxiao blinked, confused. “How can you tell she wasn’t?”
The shopkeeper was momentarily stumped by the question. He studied Ling Qingxiao’s face and was surprised to find that the young man—who looked sharp and impossibly refined—was seriously confused.
He really didn’t know. He couldn’t tell the difference between rejection and bashfulness.
The shopkeeper scratched his head. “It’s something you feel, y’know? Hard to explain. But think about it—if she truly wasn’t interested, the moment she heard the red cord was for romance, she would’ve walked away. Why linger? Nobody’s that bored.”
Ling Qingxiao stilled. His dark eyes gleamed, expression calm—his usual look when deep in thought. And in that moment, he realized something. He’d been trapped in his own rigid logic.