Myriad Images Sect’s Main Mountain Gate.
The array space within the Myriad Phenomena True Form Array is vast and boundless, akin to a new world.
Here, there are neither ordinary mountains and temples nor halls, but a limitless sea of clouds. All around, it is enclosed by the Cloud Seal Boundary Wall.
This wall is neither stone nor jade, but a semi-transparent crystal membrane condensed from Chaos Mica through Earth Vein Spirit Quenching and Heavenly Wind Carving. Its surface naturally flows with various cloud patterns, resembling the All Heaven Star Orbit, as well as the maxims of the great Dao, constantly exhaling Innate Pure Qi, with flowing brilliance that never ceases.
Within the Cloud Wall, the vast sea of clouds surges like boiling water, its color not merely plain white. At dawn, it becomes brocaded with golden clouds, and at dusk, it transforms into Purple Qi veiling the sky. Sometimes it appears as azure washed clean, other times as dark and profound concealing thunder, teeming with mist, within which the Nine Apertures Spirit Vortex appears and disappears, inhaling and exhaling primal essence, nurturing the myriad phenomena.
When a cultivator’s divine sense enters the array core and knocks against the Cloud Seal Boundary Wall, wondrous images are born, forming a cloud body clone.
At this moment, eight cultivators representing the eight main peaks have all extended their divine senses into the array, forming eight cloud body clones, gathered together.
Each cloud body clone sat cross-legged on cloud-like cushions, with the chief position held by Wei Ji.
He appeared as a middle-aged man of about forty, with regular features, smooth brows, a nose neither too high nor too low, entirely unremarkable, the sort who would blend into a crowd instantly.
His complexion was a light wheat color, like that of a riverbed stone polished smooth by running water, due to rarely seeing intense sunlight.
His pupils were of a deep hue, nearly pure black, looking at others with calm and detached eyes, as if observing the world through a layer of transparent glass, rarely showing emotional ripples.
He surveyed the surroundings and slowly spoke: "This gathering of your divine senses to the array is solely for deliberation on the matter of Baizhi Immortal City."
Before Wei Ji’s voice had faded, a massive cloud body to his right laughed heartily: "We should have discussed this matter long ago! Baizhi Immortal City should have been in the palm of our Myriad Images Sect long ago."
"As for that little brat Wen Ruanyu, as long as he capitulates, we can officially get involved with Baizhi Immortal City."
"It is stuck with him now!"
"As a disciple of our sect, his refusal to cooperate is truly infuriating."
The one speaking was Tuoba Huang.
This person was the master of Ten Thousand Beasts Peak, towering like a mountain, nearly a zhang tall, with muscles knotted like old tree roots, exuding an explosive sense of primal power.
His skin was a wind-and-sun-darkened ancient bronze color.
Thick black hair and beard, like a lion’s mane, grew wildly, nearly obscuring half his face, adding to his unruly nature.
His features were sharp and angular, seeming hewn by an axe. A vicious claw scar slashed from the left temple down to the right cheek, crossing the bridge of his nose. His eyes were sharp like those of an eagle, carrying the natural authority and disdain of the king of beasts, gleaming with a burst of brilliance, making one dare not look directly.
Tuoba Huang’s words were immediately met with objections from others.
"Master Tuoba, the bones of the Confucianist are harder than Mystic Iron of the Cold Pool; is it something sheer force can break? Wen Ruanyu has guarded the isolated Baizhi City for decades, nurturing the wild with his benevolence, his blood not cold, his Dao not extinguished. To him, the words benevolence and righteousness are the foundation of his life, the spine that reaches the heavens. To make him break his benevolent bones and submit... it’s as hard as ascending to heaven."
The speaker shook his head slowly, a few strands of ink-scented hair falling beside his cheeks, his sleeves moving without wind, as if pages were being lightly turned by an invisible hand.
His frame was thin and tall like bamboo, his skin pale as if never seeing the light of day for long years.
While objecting to Tuoba Huang, his eyes were half-closed and half-open, appearing both awake and asleep, his pupils scattered like covered in a gray mist.
This was none other than Lu Zhenshu, Peak Master of Fuyao Peak.
For a moment, many turned their eyes to Lu Zhenshu, each with a hint of an unusual expression.
In such meetings, Lu Zhenshu rarely spoke, and his presence was always low. However, knowing that Wen Ruanyu was a Confucian Cultivator, and given that Lu Zhenshu has always had a favorable view of Confucian Cultivators, his current objection was reasonable.
"Hmph! Benevolence? Bone of benevolence? It’s nothing more than a woman’s benevolence!" Tuoba Huang snorted angrily like thunder out of blue sky, glaring at Lu Zhenshu.
"Wen Ruanyu is merely a Golden Core, even if he’s a True Disciple, can he truly disregard our orders? This is simply intolerable!"
What Tuoba Huang was most enraged about was exactly this point.
His nature was rough, and at his command, thousands of pet beasts rush into battle, overwhelming the enemy like a tide.
He has always been decisive, hating such insubordinate subordinates the most.
Just then, another voice interjected: "Benevolence? Backbone?"
The person speaking had the corners of their mouth curving into a cold and playful arc, the voice was not loud but carried a peculiar penetration: "It’s merely a matter of the right price not being reached."
"As I see it, Wen Ruanyu is not a stubborn stone, but a jade waiting for the right price."
"This so-called ’resistance’ is just waiting for our sect to offer a high price."
"Even a stubborn stone can nod when the price is right, not to mention Wen Ruanyu?"
The speaker laughed disdainfully.
His face was like sculpted jade, with smile-laden brows, resembling a dashing and elegant scholar, and was Meng Wuyan, the Deputy Peak Master of Purple Thunder Peak.
Meng Wuyan shifted the topic: "However, this jade is not our only concern. Even if Wen Ruanyu submits, what about the group of scholarly Confucianists who always huddle together for warmth behind him?"
"This group," Meng Wuyan’s voice lowered slightly, "Although their positions are merely mid-level, they are like a centipede intertwined and intricately rooted! Should this issue provoke their empathy-driven unity and resistance... the daily affairs of the various peaks might descend into chaos!"
His purple eyes suddenly turned sharp, articulating every word, his voice devoid of any levity: "Especially, among them is the old gentleman Duanmu Zhang."
"He hails from Huazhang Country, renowned as one of the country’s eminent Confucian scholars. Originally, he was to enter the Flying Cloud Country’s political scene. Yet, due to the earnest invitations of the former sect master, this elder joined our Myriad Images Sect."