Starting as the heir of a marquis's mansion, I gained access to a summoning system.

East China Sea, Wanshe Island.

Pang Ban arrived at the dock at dawn the following day.

The sea fog was thick as cotton wool, and the ghost-headed flags on the dock fluttered in the morning breeze. He stepped off the small awning boat, his purple robe standing out starkly against the gray sky. The underworld guards on the dock alertly blocked his way with their spears.

"Who is it?"

Pang Ban did not stop, but merely flashed the black jade token for a moment.

When the soldiers saw the character "地" (earth) and the map of the five directions on the token, they all knelt on one knee. Although they did not know who the visitor was, the identity token of the Five Ghost Emperors of the Underworld could not possibly be forged.

"The Eastern Ghost Emperor Pang Ban has come to oversee the East Sea on the orders of the young master."

When these words reached the main hall, Song Que, Tie Zhongtang, and Jue Wushen were sitting around in the healing mist.

The three of them were taken aback upon hearing this—they all knew that Shi Zhixuan had already left the island and headed north, and the Underworld's forces in the East Sea were in a period of transition, so the new reinforcements sent by the young master had arrived too quickly.

But the moment Pang Ban stepped into the main hall, the medicine bowl in Song Que's hand shattered with a "crack".

It wasn't because of astonishment, but because of the intent behind the sword.

The moment the purple-robed man stepped into the palace, Song Que's sword intent spontaneously activated, like a hunting dog smelling the scent of a tiger. The hair on his entire right arm stood on end, and he instinctively gripped the hilt of his sword at his waist.

Then he noticed that his hands were trembling slightly.

This was a reaction Song Que had never experienced since he began repairing the knife.

Pang Ban glanced at him and nodded slightly: "A fine blade. Its sharpness has been concealed for forty years; its edge is impenetrable, yet its intent is divine. If you recover from your injuries and take another step forward, you will be half a step into the realm of the celestial."

Song Que took a deep breath and loosened his grip on the hilt of his sword. He slowly rose, clasped his hands in a fist salute, and said, "Eastern Ghost Emperor. Young Master mentioned in your letter that you would send a Celestial Being to oversee things—we originally thought it would be a half-step Celestial Being, but we didn't expect…"

Pang Ban raised his hand to interrupt him: "Whether you're a half-step Celestial or at the initial Celestial realm, you're all working for the young master."

He sat down on the only empty stone chair in the hall, his gaze sweeping over the injuries on the three men. "You are all seriously injured and should not engage in any further fighting for seven days. I will handle the matter of Penglai after seven days."

Tie Zhongtang said gruffly, "The King of the East Sea is at the peak of the half-step Celestial Realm, and he knows the island's restrictions like the back of his hand."

Pang Ban glanced at him but offered no explanation. His gaze was as indifferent as if he were looking at something whose outcome was already predetermined.

Tie Zhongtang shut up.

Jue Wushen did not speak from beginning to end, but he slowly straightened his originally hunched back in the medicinal mist, clenching and unclenching his left fist.

His right arm was still recovering and he couldn't exert any force, but his eyes were calmer than ever before—a sense of peace that only comes from knowing that someone was there to protect him.

"Seven days later," Pang Ban concluded, "if the King of the East Sea comes, I will show him what lies behind that door. If he dares not come..."

He didn't finish his sentence; he simply picked up the cold tea on the table and took a sip.

In the sea mist outside the palace, the dark golden vortex where Penglai Island sank was still slowly rotating.

Meanwhile, on the official road leading north to the capital region.

An unassuming blue-curtained carriage sped along in the morning light. Inside sat Shi Zhixuan, wearing a pale white robe over a worn, grayish-brown cloak, looking like a poor scholar on a long journey to take the imperial examinations. He closed his eyes to rest, his fingertips slowly tracing the outline of an ancient character on his knee.

"start."

He read it aloud, mentally comparing Pang Ban's comment with the ancient secrets he knew.

The view outside the window gradually changed from fields to hills, and then from hills to dense forest.

As they approached the capital region, the carriage suddenly stopped. The driver whispered:

"Sir, there's a roadblock ahead. Officials from the Imperial Mirror Bureau are checking passing merchants."

Shi Zhixuan peeked out from behind a corner of the carriage curtain. More than ten soldiers in black armor stood at the roadblock, the leader exuding a powerful aura, around the seventh level of the Grandmaster realm. Their inspection was extremely thorough; they checked every carriage, even bending down to look under them.

The Suspended Mirror Platform has made its move.

After a moment's thought, Shi Zhixuan took out another token from his pocket—not the Ghost Emperor's Token from the Underworld, but a cyan token with silver trim, on the front of which was engraved a soaring cyan dragon.

This is an identity document from within the Azure Dragon Society. He obtained it from Dongfang Weiwo by Shi Zhixuan before leaving the East Sea, just in case.

Instead of taking the main road, he signaled to the driver to turn around and take a detour via a side path.

The Azure Dragon Society operated several hidden passages near the capital for emergency access. After walking along the path for half an hour, Shi Zhixuan saw a low mountain. At the foot of the mountain was an abandoned tea pavilion, in which sat a man in white.

Dressed in white, as white as snow.

Ximen Chuixue.

He sat alone on the stone bench in the teahouse, a sword across his lap. He neither drank tea nor admired the scenery; he simply sat there quietly. As Shi Zhixuan's carriage approached, Ximen Chuixue didn't even lift his head, only uttering a single sentence:

"The Second Dragon Head and the Third Dragon Head are waiting for you three miles ahead."

Shi Zhixuan got off the train and stood in the pavilion, looking at the young swordsman in white.

The cultivation level of a Grandmaster at the sixth level was condensed to an extremely pure degree on this sword, and the air within three feet of it was as cold as if it were covered with thin ice.

"Where is Lord Ye?"

"Further ahead." Ximen Chuixue finally looked up at Shi Zhixuan. "He said he couldn't wait."

Shi Zhixuan smiled.

He got back into the car and continued onward.

After another incense stick's time, they indeed saw three people standing in a grove of withered trees beside the official road.

The leader was dressed in white, with a handsome face and an ancient longsword hanging at his waist. He stood among the withered trees, yet he was more serene than the shadows of the trees in winter. He was Bai Yujing, the second leader of the Azure Dragon Society, a half-step Celestial Realm peak expert, and a sword god who once repelled three half-step Celestial Realm experts with a single sword strike.

Standing beside him was a burly man in blue robes, with a rugged face but a commanding presence as imposing as a mountain. He was none other than Li Chenzhou, the Third Dragon Head, whose fist intent, "Reigning Supreme," was at the peak of the eighth level of the Grandmaster realm.

Ten steps further away, Ye Gucheng stood on a withered tree trunk, his sea-blue robe fluttering slightly in the wind. Although the sword in his hand was not drawn, the sword energy had already condensed into an invisible barrier within three zhang around him, silently severing even the withered branches and leaves that approached.

Shi Zhixuan got out of the car and exchanged a glance with Bai Yujing.

"Two dragon heads."

"The Wheel-Turning King."

Bai Yujing nodded in return. "Quite a few people have already gone into the imperial mausoleum. Last night, the Blood Shadow Elder of the Heavenly Demon Sect led four elders to sneak past the outer perimeter of the imperial mausoleum, and the sect leader of the Four Extremes Sword Sect and the head of the Chu family also set off this morning."

Before anyone from Wanfo Temple had even shown up, a disciple of Zen Master Liaochen had already been staying at an inn in the capital region for three days.

Shi Zhixuan said, "Liao Chen won't come in person. He's too old, and he's afraid that Demon God Lü will recognize him."

Li Chenzhou interjected, "So, shall we enter the imperial tomb now?"

"No entry."

Shi Zhixuan and Bai Yujing spoke almost simultaneously.

The two exchanged a glance, Shi Zhixuan smiled and gestured for them to proceed, and Bai Yujing continued:

"Those who go in now are just testing the waters. There are still three layers of protection around the imperial tomb that haven't been broken. Let the Heavenly Demon Sect clear the way for us. Once they reach the end of the path and the aura of the Demon God Lu scares them away—"

"Let's go back in and get some more things." Li Chenzhou grinned. "I like Erlongshou's temperament."

Ximen Chuixue and Ye Gucheng stood in different places, one leaning against a withered tree and the other standing on a branch, neither of them uttering a sound.

But everyone present could feel that the sword energy on these two swords had reached the tense state before battle—like a bowstring taut, just waiting for the order.

Shi Zhixuan looked towards the imperial mausoleum one last time.

Looking out from this withered forest, a faint golden halo can be seen in the sky in the direction of the imperial tomb. It is the remnant left after the aura of the Demon God Lü was released for the first time in a hundred years, like a sleeping person turning over and a trace of warmth leaking out from under the quilt.

He whispered to Bai Yujing, "The young master has gone south."

"The White Lotus Sect?"

"Yes. He wants to see what kind of moves the chess piece that Wanfo Temple has nurtured for a hundred years will make."

Bai Yujing paused for a moment, then said:

"Young Master's judgment has always been accurate. That line in the south may not be as conspicuous as the imperial tombs and the East China Sea, but it might be the line that affects the whole situation."