The Grand Sovereign’s Stirring and a Spatial Abduction

A hush fell over the assembled disciples, a silence that endured for mere breaths.

The young disciple’s seductive whisper, “Let’s find out,” acted as a spark dropped into a cauldron of boiling oil, instantly igniting the dormant curiosity within every heart.

Humans, by nature, are drawn to spectacles, and the grander the show, the stronger the pull.

“Let’s go! We must see!” The round-faced disciple was the first to respond, their voice cracking with excitement as they bolted towards the sect’s forbidden ground, the very place where Grandmaster Jiang had entered seclusion. Despite their somewhat clumsy build, they moved with astonishing swiftness, clearly employing a mystical movement technique.

“Indeed, let us go! If the Grand Sovereign is truly emerging from seclusion, to miss such an event would surely be a lifelong regret!” The short-bearded Senior Brother gritted their teeth, then plunged into the throng, following close behind.

The disciples, moments ago gathered in a single cluster, now scattered like a flock of startled birds, a flurry of motion as they surged towards the beautiful, spirit-imbued peak. The steady rhythm of footsteps, the rustling of robes slicing through the air, and a chorus of irrepressible, excited whispers instantly shattered the tranquil silence of the mountain path.

****

Shuyu Valley—the very location of Jiang Jinyue’s secluded cave abode.

“Thump—! CRASH—!”

A dull, resonant thud, accompanied by the sharp crack of snapping branches, violently fractured the serenity at the valley’s entrance.

There, suspended precariously and askew in the unhindered air above the bamboo grove, hung a flying boat. Though its design was once quite refined, it now appeared utterly dishevelled and grimy, with suspicious tendrils of green smoke curling from its bow. The talismans of its tail propulsion array flickered erratically, emitting a sputtering, gasping “sizzle,” as if clinging to its last breath.

Meanwhile, the flying boat’s owner had already descended with serene grace, alighting upon the winding stone path before the valley, their countenance as cold and unyielding as frost. The night wind, sweeping through the valley, caused their green robes to flutter about them, erasing any lingering trace of the prior discomposure they had shown aboard the vessel.

At her feet, a woman lay prone, clad in the ceremonial robes of a mortal emperor, seemingly lost in slumber. Yet, the subtle, ceaseless flutter of her eyelashes, delicate as butterfly wings, silently betrayed her clumsy masquerade; this noblewoman’s pretense of sleep was, it seemed, far from convincing.

“When did you awaken?”

Lin Xiaoxiao, her gaze sweeping for any weakness in the valley’s protective enchantments, posed the question with an air of utter nonchalance.

Ye Jinghuang’s breath hitched, an almost imperceptible pause, before she forcibly smoothed it into a steady rhythm once more. Far from opening her eyes, she instead produced a deliberately drawn-out, faint snore from her throat, feigning an even deeper slumber.

However, as the undisputed leader among the second-generation disciples of the Sanyi Sword Sect, and standing but a single step from forming a pseudo-core and ascending to the realm of a Purple Mansion True Person, Lin Xiaoxiao was hardly one to be deceived by such a clumsy performance.

“Cease your pretense of sleep.”

Ye Jinghuang’s fingertips curled ever so slightly, yet she remained stubbornly silent, seemingly resolved to play out her clumsy charade until its bitter end.

Lin Xiaoxiao’s patience, at last, wore thin. She championed justice and harbored sympathy for the vulnerable, yet Ye Jinghuang’s deeds bore not the slightest resemblance to anything righteous. What was more egregious still—she had dared to imprison their Master! Such an audacious notion, even for Lin Xiaoxiao herself, was a fleeting, forbidden thought entertained only in the deepest hours of the night; to actually act upon it was utterly unthinkable.

“If you yearn for death, then by all means, continue your performance. Though Master declared he would exact his revenge personally, he has now lost all his cultivation. Should I slay you, I will simply confine myself to the forbidden grounds afterward. I shall count to three; if you do not rise by then…”

Despite the chilling tone of Lin Xiaoxiao’s voice, her heart harbored barely a flicker of true killing intent. The intense internal struggle she had endured aboard the flying boat had already led her to resolve against overstepping her bounds.

Yet, Ye Jinghuang, in her inherent naiveté, proved incapable of maintaining her composure.

Before Lin Xiaoxiao could even begin her count, Ye Jinghuang sprang upright like a startled rabbit, frantically brushing away the bamboo leaves clinging to her cheek. Her voice, laced with an almost imperceptible tremor of panic, rushed out in a plea for mercy: “Senior Sister Lin, please quell your anger! Senior Sister, I beg you, quell your anger!”

Years of tutelage beneath Mo Tingbei, coupled with the sharp instincts she had honed amidst the maelstrom of power in mortal dynasties, instinctively led her to choose the address “Senior Sister.”

‘This woman, who had previously shown such chilling killing intent towards me aboard the flying boat, is undeniably a disciple of Master Mo. Thus, this shared bond of discipleship might well be my sole lifeline in this perilous moment.’

‘Even if she despises me to the core, with Master Mo absent, addressing her as a fellow disciple might yet bridge some of the chasm between us. Even if it backfires, merely inflaming her anger at my disrespect toward Master, surely, recalling Master Mo’s words before his departure, I would not be instantly slain.’

In a flash of lightning, countless thoughts had already whirled through Ye Jinghuang’s mind.

When she next raised her gaze to Lin Xiaoxiao, the panic in her eyes had quietly receded by more than half, though she was far from feeling at ease. Her slightly swollen eyes fixed on Lin Xiaoxiao, conveying a forced calm interwoven with a cautious, probing uncertainty.

Lin Xiaoxiao let out a derisive scoff, the sound grating harshly in the quiet valley entrance. “So, with Master absent, you’ve decided to drop your pitiful act, have you?”

Her green robes stirred as if by an unseen breeze, and a chilling aura emanated from her entire being. Her gaze, sharp as a blade, sliced across Ye Jinghuang’s feigned composure. “That utterly pathetic display you put on in the prison even stirred a flicker of sympathy within me. Is it through such tactics that you managed to deceive Master?”

A sharp pang pierced Ye Jinghuang’s heart. All she had ever desired was to spend an eternity with the man she loved. Her decision to imprison Master Mo in the imperial prison stemmed from her belief that it was the safest place she knew; she merely needed to wait for the storm to pass, and then she would be able to…

A sudden, stinging pain across her cheek abruptly shattered her train of thought.

Lifting her gaze, she saw Lin Xiaoxiao’s sword already angled, its tip resting barely half an inch from her throat!

A powerful surge of humiliation and injustice welled up within her. Both of them desired to monopolize Master Mo, so by what right did this Lin Xiaoxiao presume to be his protector?

The pride that lay dormant deep within her bones ignited in an instant. She surged to her feet, her cheek grazing the tip of Lin Xiaoxiao’s sword, drawing a string of crimson beads, yet she seemed utterly oblivious to the injury.

Startled by Ye Jinghuang’s abrupt movement, Lin Xiaoxiao subconsciously drew her sword back several inches. While she wished to chastise Ye Jinghuang severely, she was unwilling to kill her outright without Master’s knowledge, fearing such an act might breed resentment in Master’s heart towards her.

Ye Jinghuang seized the moment to straighten her back, her ample bosom rising gently, a voluptuousness that even the heavy ceremonial robes could not fully obscure. Lin Xiaoxiao’s gaze instinctively dropped to herself, only to find her own elegant shoetips in view. A fresh wave of inexplicable irritation washed over her, deepening her existing vexation.

Though still half a head shorter than Lin Xiaoxiao, Ye Jinghuang’s aura was no less sharp, brimming with an unyielding intensity. Her eyes, swollen and reddened from weeping, now gleamed with the cold, hard resolve of an emperor:

“Senior Sister Lin, your words are mistaken!” Ye Jinghuang’s voice, devoid of its earlier panic, now held a sharp, confrontational chill. “You repeatedly accuse me of imprisoning Master, yet your own words and actions within that prison—did they possess even a shred of proper disciple decorum? You are merely ‘fifty steps laughing at a hundred steps’ (TL Note: A Chinese idiom, ‘wushibu xiaobaibu,’ meaning the pot calling the kettle black, or criticizing someone for a fault you share to a lesser degree).”

“You!” Lin Xiaoxiao choked on the sharp, articulate counter-attack, especially the idiom “fifty steps laughing at a hundred steps,” which struck a raw nerve in a hidden corner of her heart. Her profound distaste for Ye Jinghuang—was it not, in truth, tinged with a bitter jealousy that ‘she dared to do what I only ever dreamed of doing but never dared’?

This exposed humiliation instantly transformed into a surging torrent of rage. Cold light flared in her eyes, and the long sword in her hand rose, poised to strike down!

Just then, without the slightest warning, the stone path beneath their feet and the seemingly tranquil bamboo forest surrounding them began to ripple outwards in concentric, visible waves, like water disturbed by an unseen force!

These abruptly appearing, profound ripples were utterly silent, yet they emanated an overwhelming, irresistible spatial power.

“This is…? !”

Lin Xiaoxiao’s expression shifted dramatically as she instantly sensed an irresistible, drawing force emanating from within the valley, unmistakably targeting both her and Ye Jinghuang!

Instinctively, she plunged her Tianya Sword into the earth, channeling all her spiritual energy, desperately attempting to anchor herself and resist the formidable pull.

Yet, the power was utterly profound, seemingly acting directly upon space itself. The surrounding spiritual energy became completely uncontrollable, rendering her resistance as futile as a mantis attempting to stop a chariot.

Ye Jinghuang cried out in alarm, her body already swept up uncontrollably by the spatial ripples, tossed about like a fallen leaf caught in a gale.

Lin Xiaoxiao knew the nature of Shuyu Valley’s enchantments; they were unequivocally not spatial in type. Furthermore, with no spiritual energy fluctuations indicating the activation of any divine ability nearby, this could only be Senior Uncle Jiang… it had to be that old woman’s doing!

A sudden, chilling realization dawned upon Lin Xiaoxiao, yet her horror only intensified.

This utterly illogical method, which seemed to command space itself, transcended any divine ability she had ever witnessed. It was a true miracle, achievable only by those who had shattered the very boundaries of existence!

With the last vestige of hope vanishing from her heart, Lin Xiaoxiao ceased her resistance. With a flicker of thought, she retracted her Tianya Sword into her Dantian, surrendering herself entirely to the force that now swept her away.

In the very instant Lin Xiaoxiao’s thoughts spun wildly, the drawing force abruptly intensified!

A profound sense of vertigo enveloped her, and the light and shadows before her eyes twisted and shifted with dizzying speed. The bamboo grove, the stone path, the night sky—every familiar sight blurred, stretched, and spun into an indistinct maelstrom.