Yinlan City

Su Qing opened the map, borrowed from Kouya Pavilion for two hundred contribution points.

According to the map, the world had five continents, with Sword Sect on the easternmost one, at its farthest eastern edge.

The back mountain, Heaven’s Sword Mountain, was thus at the world’s fringe.

Beyond the mountains—world’s end or another continent? The map didn’t say, and Su Qing couldn’t guess.

The Earth Mother Goddess, deity of the land, dwelt near these mountains.

Was it her birthplace, her domain, or was her power limited to this region, perhaps waning, forcing her to the continent’s edge?
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Yinlan City, their destination, was the northernmost of the thirty-six cities around Sword Sect, bordering the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest, a beast domain with minimal human activity.

Sword Sect gave students one week to prepare, buying supplies or readying for battle.

Rumors said they’d head straight to the beast tide’s frontlines—a life-or-death mission, no room for optimism.

Replacing the second secret realm, this beast tide aid was urgent, likely lasting years, not months.

Like the Dragon Boat Secret Realm, three to five years in Yinlan City wasn’t unexpected.

Despite the rush, Su Qing handled her affairs.

Thanks to Zhu Xing’er’s competence, their businesses—thriving and organized—needed little oversight.

Before leaving, Su Qing visited the back mountain, securing a deal to trade pills for spiritual plants with the beast clans. With the wolf clan’s backing and mutual benefits, the deal took off. The sect leader mediated, skimming a cut, but with everyone profiting, Su Qing didn’t mind.
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Jiang Shuang and Jia Song, seasoned over years, made Honey Spirit Tea nearly independent, requiring minimal attention.

Even Li En had grown from a scrawny girl to a vibrant teen, apprenticing under Zhu Xing’er, aiming to manage a Tianque City shop.

Su Qing tried helping at the herb shop, even just weighing herbs, but Li En fussed—bringing a chair, serving tea, fanning her like a toddler.

Su Qing laughed helplessly. “I’m here to help.”

“Sister Su Qing, you’ve got big things ahead. Save your energy!” Li En’s eyes sparkled, already ordering tea snacks. “Leave the small stuff to me.”

After circling Sword Sect and Tianque City, Su Qing was stunned to find nothing left for her to do—her people had handled everything.

As Zhu Xing’er put it, “Just prep your healing salves, sharpen your weapons, eat well, and come back soon. Don’t worry about the rest.”

Her face turned serious. “Three years ago, my last caravan trip to Yinlan City felt off. The vibe was strange. I was there for trade, but I sensed multiple forces at a stalemate. I didn’t dig deeper—knowing too much could trap me—so I sold my herbs and left fast.”

“You’re different,” she warned. “You’re going to solve problems. Even with Sword Sect’s protection, stay cautious.”

Three years ago, sensing trouble, Zhu Xing’er abandoned Yinlan City’s trade.

Life came first—earning money was pointless without surviving to spend it.

Her other city businesses thrived, so losing Yinlan’s trade didn’t hurt.

Her only worry was Xiu Fu.

Xiu Fu hadn’t sent a letter in six months.

Though her letters were sporadic before, such a long gap was unprecedented. As a medic on the beast tide frontlines, she couldn’t be at peace, but her role should ensure basic safety.

Su Qing headed to Yinlan City partly to rendezvous with her.

In the remaining time, she restocked healing salves, pills, and bought life-saving artifacts. Owning a shop, these came from her inventory, so she didn’t feel the pinch.

The day before departure, Sword Sect issued uniforms—not the usual cyan or blue disciple robes, but formal sect attire, like those worn by the sword-bearing disciples who greeted them at selection.

Silky, with dark sheen when moving, they had plum blossom embroidery on collars, cuffs, and hems.

A plum blossom badge adorned the chest, with a single character for each school—Su Qing’s bore a small “Body” (体).

During selection, as a mortal, she couldn’t gauge the robes’ quality.

Now, seasoned, she saw they were second-tier top-grade artifacts, with first-tier top-grade defensive arrays on chest and back.

They could block a full strike from a late Foundation Establishment cultivator, maybe even save half a life from a Golden Core strike—enough to write a will before dying.

A single defensive second-tier robe cost a few thousand spirit stones—negligible. But nearly two thousand robes? Millions, maybe tens of millions.

Su Qing, stunned, found her voice. “When did Sword Sect get so rich?”

Their sect was so poor it half-sold itself. Where’d the money come from?
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Many students shared her doubt, suspecting Sword Sect either struck it rich or snagged a noble sponsor.

Sect Leader Wang Quan, outwardly calm, smugly tapped his fan. “Money’s not saved—it’s earned. Who says Sword Sect’s poor? We’re not poor at all!”

The stewards silently scoffed: *Earned? Extorted.* Good thing they had Tai’a Sword, or they’d have no sect leader.

The robes gave students a safety net. For now, no one badmouthed Wang Quan on the confession wall, leaving him feeling life lacked spice.

But it warned students: with Sword Sect’s finances, spending so much meant dire circumstances. Other sects, like Herong or Yanyi, gave disciples three sets of third-tier robes, plus unified hairpins, accessories, and shoes.

They were them; Sword Sect was Sword Sect. Comparisons were futile.

Still, new clothes were nice.

A week later, departure arrived.

Six cloud boats were summoned, students boarding by school. Body School, led by Lin Hebai, included third-year senior sister Ling Yunxiao.

For first-years, this was their first off-campus practical mission. With classmates and teachers, they boarded excitedly, leaning over railings to peer at clouds, reaching to touch the sea of mist.

Ling Yunxiao, leaning on a mast, sighed complexly. “My first cloud boat mission, I was this thrilled, thinking Sword Sect wasn’t so poor. Now I know—if they spend, it’s never good news.”

Cloud boats traveled a thousand li daily, burning countless spirit stones. Two weeks later, Body School’s boat crossed eight cities, reaching Pinghe City near the northern border.

North of Pinghe City was their destination, Yinlan City.

Pinghe City’s name came from the wide Pinghe River, a moat separating it from Yinlan City.

The cloud boat shouldn’t have stopped, meant to head straight to Yinlan City.

But Boat Elder halted above Pinghe City, grimly telling Lin Hebai, “Elder Lin, something’s wrong. There’s fog ahead.”

Lin Hebai, at Foundation Establishment Perfection, had a vast divine sense and had noticed the fog earlier. Not pure white but grayish, like dust, it loomed over Yinlan City like a calamity, obscuring vision. Rashly entering could trap the boat.

Ling Yunxiao frowned. “Should we land?”

“Watch your juniors,” Lin Hebai said, squinting. “I’ll check the fog.”

“Got it.” Ling Yunxiao nodded, patrolling the boat.

First-years greeted her; she responded casually, no airs.

With her there, Lin Hebai was at ease. She tapped her foot, becoming a streak of light, vanishing into the foggy barrier.

In the boat’s cabin, Su Qing sat cross-legged, playing cards with Tang Yueling and Tian Ning.

With many students, trouble brewed easily. Lin Hebai ordered Body School students to take turns strolling the deck, otherwise staying in cabins to cultivate or read—no noise or fights. Violators would be hung from the boat’s tail, dragged as it flew.

Su Qing thought wind-blade tempering sounded fun but respected Lin Hebai too much to provoke her. Still, cooped up in the cabin, cultivation felt restless. Tang Yueling pulled out a delicate bone card deck, and the trio played to unwind.

Su Qing’s luck was abysmal, losing all her chips quickly.

She sighed, stunned that even Tian Ning beat her. Not overconfident, but as Su “Microexpression Master” Qing, she could read Tian Ning’s face to guess her cards—yet still lost. Her luck was rotten.

Tang Yueling slammed down a hand, digging for money. “What cursed luck! Does this mean our trip’s doomed, or are we saving luck for later?”

“Don’t jinx it.” Su Qing resignedly pulled out spirit stones. “No flags.”

Tian Ning’s pile grew mountainous. Unfazed, she pocketed it all.

Unsure why she won, winning was good—maybe she was the dorm’s smartest.

Glancing out the window, she said, “There’s fog.”

Su Qing looked, frowning. “Weird fog—grayish.”

“Yinlan City’s name comes from its fog,” Tang Yueling said, shuffling cards. “*Lan* means mountain mist. The city’s often hidden in fog, like it vanishes among the thirty-six cities.”

She kept winning and wanted to lose, but couldn’t resist crushing Su Qing and Tian Ning.

Su Qing mused—fog wasn’t odd then.

But a city with beast tides and constant fog—how did so many residents thrive? Yinlan City ranked high in population among the thirty-six.

Likely due to the Ten Thousand Beasts Forest—living by mountains or seas meant resources aplenty.

Shuffling done, Su Qing drew cards, despairing with each one. A full hand, utterly hopeless.

She glanced at Tian Ning, whose lips curved a millimeter—good cards, as expected.

Sighing, she played, asking, “What causes the fog? Geography? Environment?”

“Bomb!” Tang Yueling slapped down cards. “No clue, but we’ll stay long enough to find out.”

Su Qing gaped. “Bombing me already? You and Tian Ning are teaming up, aren’t you?”

Tian Ning played a massive “straight,” nearly clearing her hand, leaving one card.

Su Qing was speechless. Tang Yueling was out to slaughter.

No one countered.

Tian Ning laid her last card, her tone smug. “Pay up.”

Lin Hebai returned from the fog, landing on the boat.

Boat Elder asked, “Well?”

“Land first,” she said, brow furrowed. “It’s not normal fog—it’s poisonous.”
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