Moonlight Mystique

In the main hall of Piaomiao Island, Chong Zhao stood in his disciple's blue robe, adorned with three flowing clouds at his waist—the mark of the island's head disciple. Er Yun, dressed in a white gown, was strikingly beautiful, her pride evident between her brows, though she bore only two flowing clouds on her waist.

Sect Leader Song Feng, with a white beard and clad in Daoist robes, had a kindly and benevolent demeanor, clearly a gentle elder. At this moment, he gazed at his most accomplished disciple with barely concealed excitement as he descended the steps.

"To think that in just half a year, Zhao'er has already ascended to the rank of Immortal Lord! Splendid!" Song Feng approached Chong Zhao, his face filled with emotion. "If your father knew how hard you’ve worked, his immortal soul would surely rest in peace."

Hearing this, Chong Zhao was visibly moved, and Er Yun’s eyes reddened.

"Chong Zhao owes all his achievements today to the unwavering support of my Master and Junior Martial Uncle, the Sect Leader." Chong Zhao knelt heavily. "The kindness Piaomiao has shown me will forever be engraved in my heart!"

"Zhao'er! What are you doing? Rise quickly!" Song Feng hurriedly helped him up, both touched and proud. "Zhao'er, you are the first among Piaomiao’s younger generation in a century to ascend to Immortal Lord. This year, our sect finally qualifies to participate in the 'Wutong Martial Banquet' held by the Phoenix and Demon Races on Wutong Phoenix Island." Song Feng’s face lit up with excitement. "I will immediately report this to the Heavenly Palace and request our sect’s eligibility to enter Phoenix Island."

"Uncle, what is the 'Wutong Martial Banquet'? I’ve never heard of it before," Er Yun asked curiously.

Song Feng sighed. "Our sect has declined, and we haven’t had a disciple ascend to Immortal Lord in many years. It’s no surprise you haven’t heard of it. This matter traces back to the great battle between the Immortal and Demon Races two hundred years ago. Back then, Divine Lord Yuan Qi sacrificed himself to suppress the Demon Race, sealing them once more in the Nine Nether Purgatory. Since then, the Immortal and Demon Races have temporarily ceased their conflicts. Our Phoenix Queen Feng Ran ascended to the Divine Realm, leaving the Immortal Race under the governance of Immortal Lord Jin Yao. The Phoenix Emperor and the then-Demon Emperor Hong Yi were close friends since their humble beginnings. Fearing that the hard-won peace between the two races might not endure after their ascensions, they established the 'Wutong Martial Banquet,' held once every ten years."

Song Feng turned to Chong Zhao. "Every decade, the two races hold a spiritual power competition on Wutong Phoenix Island. All young members of both races who have attained the ranks of Immortal Lord or Demon Lord may participate. The victorious race gains control over the sacred lands at the border between the two races for the next ten years, preventing further conflicts and bloodshed. If the Immortal Race wins, the top disciple not only receives a Wutong Sword personally forged by the Phoenix Emperor but also gains the opportunity to study under one of the four High Lords in the Heavenly Palace, becoming a disciple of the Immortal Lords."

Song Feng clapped Chong Zhao on the shoulder. "The 'Wutong Martial Banquet' is a grand event for both races... Our sect hasn’t had the chance to participate for a hundred years. Zhao'er, if you can claim victory and bring glory to our race, Piaomiao will surely regain its place among the 'Three Mountains and Six Prefectures' of the Immortal Race!"

"Junior Martial Uncle, rest assured. Chong Zhao will train diligently and strive to bring honor to our sect at the 'Wutong Martial Banquet!'" Chong Zhao declared solemnly.

"Excellent!" Song Feng nodded in satisfaction and waved his hand. "You’ve just returned from slaying the octopus demon and must be exhausted. Go and rest now."

"Yes."

Chong Zhao bowed once more and turned to leave. Er Yun hurried after him but was stopped by Song Feng.

"Er Yun, stay here."Er Yun was taken aback as she watched Chong Zhao exit the hall. Pouting, she said, "Uncle, Junior Brother has just been promoted to Immortal Lord. I wanted to properly celebrate for him. What's so urgent that you had to call me away?"

Song Feng's expression turned serious. "Er Yun, Zhao'er is the hope of our Misty Isle. I promised your father I would nurture him well to bring glory to our sect. Don't let personal feelings interfere with his cultivation."

"Uncle, what nonsense are you saying!" Er Yun's face flushed as she hurriedly defended herself. "What personal feelings could I possibly have with Junior Brother? He's only been in the Immortal Realm for a short time. I merely accompany him in everything out of camaraderie between fellow disciples."

"If there's nothing, then good." Song Feng's expression softened slightly before continuing, "That Outer Sect Disciple from the herb garden—she was Zhao'er's acquaintance from the mortal world. All these years she's been dutiful, tending the garden conscientiously without overstepping her bounds. For Zhao'er's sake, don't make things difficult for her anymore."

"I never—" Er Yun stiffened, about to protest when Song Feng waved his hand dismissively. "If not, then good. You may go now."

"Yes, Uncle." Er Yun pouted, but her thoughts were still on Chong Zhao as she quickly rushed out after him.

"Junior Brother! A-Zhao!" Er Yun chased after him to the main hall's entrance, where she found many female disciples already gathered around Chong Zhao, their faces filled with excitement.

"What are you all crowding around A-Zhao for?" Er Yun frowned.

Seeing Er Yun approach, disciples like Er Li and Er Lan quickly made way. Er Li stepped forward eagerly. "Senior Sister, we heard that A-Zhao and you defeated that octopus demon, and now he's been promoted to Immortal Lord. We were thinking of holding a celebration banquet tonight for both of you, so we gathered here with the other disciples."

"That's right, Senior Sister! You and Senior Brother have worked hard, and now he's become an Immortal Lord—this is a joyous occasion! We must celebrate properly!" The disciples cheered loudly.

Seeing how her fellow disciples naturally paired her with Chong Zhao, Er Yun couldn't help but smile. "You're all quite thoughtful. Very well, since that's the case, A-Zhao, how about tonight we—"

"Senior Sister." Chong Zhao spoke gently, his expression resigned. "Junior Martial Uncle the Sect Leader just instructed me to focus on cultivation and prepare for the 'Phoenix Martial Banquet.' Perhaps we should forgo the celebration feast."

"But all your fellow disciples..." Er Yun hesitated, glancing at the eager crowd before noticing Chong Zhao's furrowed brows. Knowing his preference for quiet, she immediately cleared her throat. "The Sect Leader just gave orders—Junior Brother must enter seclusion for cultivation. No one is to disturb him. A-Zhao will soon depart for Phoenix Isle to attend the 'Phoenix Martial Banquet.' Once he wins first place, we'll celebrate properly then!"

Chong Zhao paused. Though he disliked ostentation, he said nothing further, merely thanking Er Yun before turning to leave.

Chong Zhao had always been aloof, so the disciples took no offense. Instead, they crowded around Er Yun, eagerly asking, "What's the 'Phoenix Martial Banquet'?"

Trapped by the crowd, Er Yun could only watch helplessly as Chong Zhao walked away alone.

Once outside the main hall, Chong Zhao transformed into a streak of blue light, heading southward across the island. When he arrived outside the herb garden, he saw Bai Shuo huffing and puffing as she carried a bucket, watering the plants.

Dressed in an herbalist's attire, her small bun slightly disheveled and a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, Bai Shuo brushed stray strands of hair from her face while watering the herbs, smiling carefreely at the plants."I take care of you diligently every day, so you must grow well for me. It'd be best if you could produce a few first-grade Immortal Plants, understand?" Bai Shuo crouched before the medicinal herbs, the bamboo flute hanging from her chest swaying as she poked at one plant and tugged at another, muttering under her breath.

Chong Zhao caught sight of the bamboo flute and a faint smile appeared on his face. Just as he was about to step into the herb garden, he suddenly remembered the task he needed to accomplish and retreated instead.

Never mind. He had waited this long—what difference would a little more time make? Once he completed what he must do tonight, there would be no more obstacles. He could openly stay by A-Shuo's side and never abandon her again.

"A-Shuo, wait for me to return."

Chong Zhao spoke softly, reluctantly withdrawing his gaze before transforming into a streak of light, flying away from Misty Isle.

Inside the herb garden, Bai Shuo seemed to sense something. She suddenly turned her head to look at the spot where Chong Zhao had stood moments ago, but saw nothing.

A pang of disappointment struck Bai Shuo's heart as she gently stroked the herbs. "No rush, no rush. Once he finishes meeting with the Sect Leader, he'll come to see me, right?"

Bai Shuo gazed toward the direction of the main hall, fingers brushing the bamboo flute hanging from her chest, her heart brimming with anticipation.

The full moon hung high in the sky, and even the imperial city of the mortal realm had quieted in the deep of night.

Chong Zhao hovered outside the palace, his gaze dark and heavy as he fixed it upon a brightly lit area within, his eyes filled with bone-chilling hatred.

Now that he had ascended to immortality, what did he have to fear from a mere mortal emperor?

After a long pause, Chong Zhao finally moved. A celestial Sword materialized in his palm as he flew straight toward the heart of the palace. The moment he approached, an intense immortal light suddenly erupted above the entire palace, forming a massive coiling Dragon formation that firmly shielded the imperial grounds. The phantom Dragon at the formation's center let out a deep roar, issuing continuous warnings to Chong Zhao.

Chong Zhao's expression shifted, but he did not retreat an inch. Immortal power surged endlessly from his hands. Seeing his refusal to withdraw, the coiled Dragon within the formation could no longer restrain itself. Its massive body leaped from the array with a thunderous roar, charging toward Chong Zhao.

The Dragon's tail lashed out, shattering the celestial Sword before slamming heavily into Chong Zhao's chest. Blood spilled from his lips as the Dragon's maw opened to engulf him. At that critical moment, a fiery Demonic Qi arrow shot from afar, forcing the Dragon back. A figure flashed past, catching the injured and falling Chong Zhao before vanishing beneath the moonlight.

The Dragon roared furiously toward the heavens, and several beams of immortal light descended from the celestial palace, streaking toward the mortal realm.

Back in Misty Isle's herb garden, Bai Shuo had been sitting by the doorway since evening, reading medicinal texts by the lamplight from the hut while stealing glances toward the garden entrance.

In a dilapidated temple outside the mortal imperial city, Chong Zhao lay pale-faced as Fu Ling fed him a Medicinal Pill, channeling spiritual energy into his body. Moments later, color returned to his cheeks, and he regained consciousness.

Demonic Qi?!

The instant he awoke, Chong Zhao's expression darkened. A celestial Sword materialized in his palm as he swung it toward the figure behind him—only for the strike to be effortlessly blocked. A cold, clear laugh rang out.

"After all these years, is this how Young Master Chong treats his savior?"

Chong Zhao slowly turned, his gaze falling upon Fu Ling. A faint memory of a delicate, pitiful face surfaced in his mind, and he hesitated. "You're... Fu Ling?" Suddenly, his expression shifted again as the celestial Sword reformed in his palm, pointing directly at her. "You're a demon?!"Fu Ling wasn’t angered. She gently pushed aside the sword tip, swayed the delicate Cloud Fire Arrow in her hand, and raised an eyebrow. “So what if I’m a Yao? If not for me, you’d already be a wisp of a ghost under the claws of the Imperial Guardian Dragon!”

Chong Zhao’s expression stiffened, the veins on his hand gripping the Immortal Sword bulging. Fu Ling chuckled, “Originally, I came to the mortal realm today for another matter. Who would’ve thought that passing by the imperial city, I’d run into an old friend. Young Master Chong, who would’ve imagined that in just three years, a mere mortal like you could cultivate into an Immortal Lord? Truly a rare fortune in the Immortal Realm for a millennium. But as an Immortal, surely you know that the mortal emperor is protected by a divine Dragon. Not to mention a lowly Immortal Lord like you—even an ordinary upper-rank Immortal wouldn’t dare barge into the imperial palace.”

Fu Ling took a step closer to Chong Zhao, a playful glint in her enchanting eyes as she whispered, “If I didn’t missee earlier, you were trying to kill the mortal emperor, weren’t you? You’re an Immortal—if the Heavenly Court finds out, you’ll face divine punishment!”

“Yao witch! Get away!” Chong Zhao’s face darkened as he swung his palm, his voice heavy. “So what if he’s the mortal emperor? He’s a heartless monster who slaughtered my entire family! Why shouldn’t I kill him? Don’t threaten me—since I dared to storm the palace, I’ll bear all consequences!”

Fu Ling stared at Chong Zhao, then suddenly smiled. “This is your Immortal clan’s business. What does it have to do with us Yao?”

She turned to leave but was stopped by Chong Zhao’s shout: “Wait! Yao witch! What really happened back then in Mu Xiao Mountain? Did you… deliberately lure me there?”

Both his and Bai Shuo’s memories had been erased. The last thing he remembered was rescuing Fu Ling in Mu Xiao Mountain, then leading the Chong family’s private soldiers back to save Bai Shuo. The next thing he knew, he was in the Heavenly Prison.

“You don’t remember?” Fu Ling looked surprised, then her eyes darkened as she frowned. “Back then, you begged me to tell you where that girl Bai Shuo was. I merely granted your request. No good deed goes unpunished.”

Chong Zhao frowned, half-believing, half-doubting. Fu Ling grew slightly angry. “Believe what you will. If I’d wanted to harm you back then, would you have survived? And why would I save you today?!”

“I…” Chong Zhao faltered, unable to refute. If Fu Ling had truly intended to harm him back then, with her Yao powers, a mere mortal like him would’ve died long ago.

“Why did you save me?” Chong Zhao’s expression softened slightly as he asked solemnly.

Fu Ling turned back, an unusual warmth in her eyes. “Back in Mu Xiao Mountain, you saved me once. Today, I return the favor. I saw nothing of what happened here.”

Chong Zhao was taken aback, then nodded. “Very well. In that case, there’s no debt between us. Immortals and Yao are different—next time we meet, you need not show me mercy!”

With that, Chong Zhao turned and left, transforming into a streak of Immortal light heading east.

The moment he vanished, a masked figure in purple appeared behind Fu Ling, confusion in his voice. “Second Palace Master, that boy became an Immortal Lord in just three years—a once-in-a-millennium Genius among the Immortals. By saving him today, you’ve surely planted a future calamity for our Yao Race!”

Fu Ling gazed in the direction Chong Zhao had disappeared, her lips curling into a smile. “Why the hurry? The future is unpredictable.”

“You mean…”

“His eyes are filled with hatred and resentment. Even as an Immortal, he’s no different from how I was back then…” Her voice trailed off as she stared into the distance, a rare trace of warmth in her icy smile.

Several streaks of Immortal light descended outside the imperial city, led unmistakably by Qing Yi.He stood atop the imperial city, casually waving his hand as the Coiling Dragon Grand Formation flickered in and out of existence. A corner at the center of the formation had been pierced, and the coiled dragon lay weakly upon it.

Qing Yi moved her palm slightly, channeling Immortal Qi into the formation. The dragon regained its vitality and leaped back into the formation to slumber.

"Your Majesty, who would dare intrude upon the Coiling Dragon Grand Formation and attempt to assassinate the mortal emperor?" an Immortal General asked.

Qing Yi furrowed her brow but said nothing more. "Leave ten to guard the formation. The rest, follow me to the Celestial Palace."

"As you command."

Several beams of Immortal light soared once more toward the Celestial Palace.

In the Nine Heavens Palace, Immortal clouds swirled, and a bright moon hung level with the Milky Way.

Within the Nine Heavens Hall, Jin Yao stared at the broken Cloudfire Arrow in Qing Yi's palm, unable to conceal his fury.

"That rebellious daughter of mine—did she breach the Coiling Dragon Grand Formation to disrupt the mortal world's Luck?"

"Calm your anger, Immortal Lord."

Though it was no secret that Fu Ling of the Cold Spring Palace was Jin Yao's daughter, few beyond a handful of high-ranking Immortals knew of it. Qing Yi spoke gravely, "This matter may not be so simple."

"What do you mean?"

"Your servant detected not only the aura of the Cloudfire Arrow on the Coiling Dragon Grand Formation but also a strand of Immortal Qi intertwined with it."

Jin Yao abruptly rose to his feet. "Are you saying an Immortal has colluded with the Yao Race? To slay the Purple Star and shatter the mortal world's Luck?"

"We cannot yet draw conclusions, but an Immortal is indeed involved."

Jin Yao's expression darkened. "Two hundred years ago, the rebellion of the Peacock Clan left our Immortal Clan severely weakened. We must not repeat such a mistake. Though peace has long reigned between Immortals and the Yao Race, the Cold Spring Palace acts with defiance and heresy. If Zhen Yu becomes the Yao Emperor, I fear the fragile peace between our races will shatter." Jin Yao commanded solemnly, "Qing Yi, investigate this matter in secret. You must uncover whoever is conspiring with the Cold Spring Palace!"

"As you command, Immortal Lord!"