Mount Yan Pass.
Li Qinghong had only been cultivating at the pass for a few months when an order from Azure Pond Sect arrived. It was then passed along within the pass until it reached Zhao Tinggui of Moon Lake Peak. The man rode the wind to the peak of the pass, bringing a group of people in tow.
Li Qinghong came out of her cave dwelling to greet him. The white-robed Zhao Tinggui gestured for the others to stay outside the main hall and entered alone.
His expression was calm, but Li Qinghong sensed his mood was low and softly said, “Daoist Friend Tinggui.”
“I wouldn’t dare... Senior is too courteous.”
All of Zhao Tinggui’s Foundation Establishment Realm cultivators at Mount Yan Pass were being transferred out. He had no idea how many would be lost at Chengshui Tomb, which placed immense pressure on him. On top of that, he had to explain the situation to the families and factions of these cultivators, which was an utterly messy affair.
How could he explain the inevitable casualties to everyone? They’d just end up transferring more Foundation Establishment Realm cultivators, and he would be the one making enemies. They wouldn’t dare hate Azure Pond Sect, so wouldn’t they then direct that hatred toward him?
He wasn’t the kind of person who liked making enemies, but he was being forced into this role. Naturally, he felt extremely irritated inside, yet he remained polite and said, “I received the sect’s order to transfer everyone. After reading it, I saw how urgent it was and rushed over at once.”
Li Qinghong acknowledged him, and Zhao Tinggui sighed, “One cannot shirk the sect’s orders. Please take care, senior. After all... we now share fortune and misfortune. My junior brother just fell in battle. I truly don’t want anything else to happen.”
Li Qinghong nodded and simply replied, “I’ll be heading north. I’ll trouble you to look after Yuexiang.”
She didn’t know who would be leading the northern expedition, nor how dangerous it might be. She had already prepared herself for the possibility of dying.
Worried about Li Yuexiang, she said a little more, and Zhao Tinggui replied with a serious expression, “Please be at ease, Senior. I have always treated her as one of my own peak’s disciples...”
When he saw the lingering worry on Li Qinghong’s face, Zhao Tinggui paused for a moment, then spoke solemnly, “My parents passed away early. Though I do not claim to be a good person, I’ve always regarded my peak’s disciples as my own siblings. Since I’ve promised your esteemed family, I will certainly keep my word.”
Li Qinghong let him speak. Still, the order had been marked as urgent, and there was no time to delay. She exited the cave dwelling, summoned Li Wushao and Kongheng, and broke through the sky toward Mount Bianyan.
In recent years, Kongheng had spoken less and less, seemingly growing increasingly immersed in silent cultivation. Li Wushao, as usual, wore a serious expression. It was only at this moment that Li Qinghong found a chance to speak with him in detail.
As they rode the wind, she softly said, “About that matter with the White Serpent Gu’er... Lanying feels deeply apologetic. After all, affection must go both ways...”
“My lord.” Li Wushao was momentarily startled before he understood, then rasped, “We serpents are not like humans. We don’t concern ourselves with mutual affection. If the scent cannot arouse desire, then it simply cannot. Even if emotions run deep, it’s all empty talk if the body doesn’t respond. There is no such thing as mutual affection for us, my lord, you overthink it.”
His words caught Li Qinghong by surprise, leaving her stunned for a second. Li Wushao continued calmly, “This was already common when I was in the Eastern Sea. The high-ranking Pristine Water white snakes had difficulty bearing offspring, so they took on hundreds of wives and concubines. The lower-ranking Valley Water gray snakes and Water Mansion black snakes served as their mates, producing offspring like grains of sand.
“It's not so bad with higher cultivation... but when one's cultivation is low, even if two snakes are in love, a single call from a white snake is enough to make them lose their minds and run off to be his consort.”
Li Wushao’s expression turned complicated, as if many words were lodged in his throat. He said quietly, “It seems there’s still discrimination by bloodline even after forming my Foundation Establishment... My father once said that our kind, the Hooked Serpents, would be better off dull and ignorant. But to possess human-like intelligence and yet be unable to resist our physical instincts, that is our greatest sorrow.”
Li Qinghong looked away as she listened, unsure how to comfort him. Li Wushao continued softly, “Even if there is mutual affection, once we return to our true forms and inhale each other’s scent, we feel instantly repulsed. Disgust wells up uncontrollably from the heart! Such is the nature of us demonic creatures.”
Kongheng, who had been silent, finally opened his eyes and said with a hint of heaviness, “It’s not just demons, humans, too, are not necessarily above such things.”
Kongheng’s words made Li Qinghong think of her family’s heir. She fell into silent reflection, and Li Wushao said no more.
This incident might have been a minor matter in the world of Hooked Serpents, but it had led Lingu Lanying to personally pay a visit, which had embarrassed Li Wushao. The chance to freely speak his thoughts now gave the old serpent much relief.
The group rode the wind and quickly descended into the mountains. Most of the cultivators had already arrived, and many familiar faces could be seen.
Li Qinghong looked up. A middle-aged man with black hair and golden robes stood at the highest position. His brows were sharp and fierce, and he exuded menace, as if he might transform into a tiger or leopard and pounce at any moment.
Golden light rippled across his body. He held a grand, ornate golden bow in his large, powerful hand. He stood alone atop the stone platform, with core disciples of the Immortal Sect bowing beside him and Foundation Establishment Realm cultivators of all families paying their respects.
“Uncle...”
The sight brought Li Qinghong back to decades ago in an instant. Her father Li Xuanling had still been alive, and Li Xuanfeng was the family’s most gifted cultivator, newly ascended with high spirits.
She had gone up the mountain with her elder brother Li Yuanxiu, while her second brother Li Yuanjiao laughed and praised Li Xuanfeng’s godlike archery skills. Even before she had seen him, Li Qinghong had already looked forward to meeting him.
She lowered her eyes and silently thought, Uncle may have had another breakthrough.