The bright moon hung high, casting its cool and ethereal glow through drifting clouds that made the celestial disc waver between brightness and shadow. Lü Mudui, his once-pristine white robe now tattered and stained with specks of blood, hobbled out of Wolong Ridge with the aid of a jade-green bamboo staff, each step trembling and unsteady.
Behind him, deep within the dense forest, night crows cawed as they soared into the sky. The coachman, who had been waiting outside, gasped in shock upon seeing Lü Mudui's disheveled appearance and rushed forward at once.
"Sir, did you encounter some wild beast in the mountains? I saw some mountain folk fleeing in panic just now—there must be some monster or spirit lurking in those ridges," the coachman said while helping Lü Mudui onto the carriage.
Though disheveled, Lü Mudui waved his hand dismissively, his entire being oddly exhilarated. Seated inside the carriage, his body trembled uncontrollably.
"To the Imperial Capital," he commanded.
The coachman hesitated momentarily but asked no questions. He cracked his whip, and the horse neighed loudly, galloping into the night.
…
Imperial Capital.
Night cloaked the world in silence, yet a teahouse nestled in the heart of the bustling city still glowed with candlelight.
Behind the counter, a young maid with her hair tied in a bun idly calculated the day's accounts, boredom written all over her face. Within the shop, chairs were overturned atop tables while a servant draped in white cloth swept the floors.
Suddenly, a soft sound echoed from the door.
The maid immediately grew alert. "Who's there? We're closed—no tea served at this hour!"
After a moment of stillness, a hoarse voice replied from beyond the door:
"Why divine fate through trifling hexagrams, when Heaven's will unfolds in subtle wonder?"
The maid's eyes lit up at the secret phrase. She hurried out from behind the counter and flung open the door.
There stood an old man in white robes, holding a verdant bamboo staff, his face weary and pale.
"Shishu!" she exclaimed.
"Shh." Lü Mudui raised a trembling finger to his lips.
The maid quickly closed the door behind him. Upstairs, footsteps had already begun to stir.
Lü Mudui pulled over a chair and sank into it, releasing a long sigh.
Descending from the upper floor came a graceful woman adorned in opulent brocade, her hair elegantly coiled.
"Old Lü, why such haste? The master ordered you to remain in Beiluo City—what brings you to the capital?" she asked, her beautiful eyes laced with suspicion.
A servant poured a cup of hot tea for Lü Mudui. He drank it without heed for its heat, then glanced at the woman and, with a flick of his fingers, cast out three copper coins.
She raised her delicate hand and caught them mid-air.
Her brows knit slightly. The coins had turned black, even cracked.
"What have you done?" she asked, drawing a sharp breath.
"I ventured into Wolong Ridge… and witnessed something… terrifying," Lü Mudui replied with a wide grin, revealing his wind-leaking teeth.
"Why did you go there?" she asked in confusion, tossing the coins back to him.
"Immortal fate manifests in Wolong Ridge; when the secret realm emerges, the world shall change."
"A great master whispered to me of immortal fortune appearing there. I cast the hexagrams and unwittingly glimpsed a presence beyond comprehension."
The grin faded from his face as Lü Mudui grew solemn. "Qianqian Shimei, may I borrow a Heavenly Messenger Pigeon?"
She gazed at him deeply. "Are you certain? Once released, those pigeons will shake the world. If this leads to disaster… can you bear the cost?"
Lü Mudui's eyes grew profound. "I shall bear all consequences alone."
"Very well." She nodded. Together, they ascended the tower.
The maid and the servant exchanged uneasy glances.
…
Top floor, hidden chamber.
Lü Mudui stepped inside, pulled out a sheet of xuan-yellow paper, struck his chest with his palm, coughed up blood, and began to write, ink soaked in crimson:
"By the command of the Ten Heavenly Qi, the ghost gods of Wolong rise.Spiritual essence awakens across the cosmos, and cultivation seizes eternal life.—By blood and fate, Lü Mudui of the House of Heavenly Secrets."
The woman read over his shoulder, her pupils contracting in shock.
If what he claimed was true… the world would indeed tremble.
"Is this… real?" she asked again.
"If I lie, may Heaven strike me with lightning," Lü Mudui declared, wiping away the blood.
He copied the message several times, slipped the letters into the messenger tubes, and forcefully released the latch.
With a fluttering sound, the white pigeons burst from the cage, spreading their wings and flying out from the capital in all directions.
Lü Mudui watched the birds vanish into the sky, a serene smile on his lips.
The woman furrowed her brows but said nothing, descending the stairs to dispatch riders toward Wolong Ridge at once.
…
Heavenly Messenger Pigeons were the secret clan's way of relaying urgent messages to the realm.
As one pigeon after another soared into the night, every branch of the House of Heavenly Secrets across the cities received their message.
Upon reading the letters, the elders of these branches were struck with disbelief.
Spiritual energy revives? Immortal fate in Wolong Ridge? A bearer of the Heaven and Earth Qi Command can claim this fate? What madness is this?
Yet disbelief quickly gave way to urgency. Powerful cultivators were dispatched posthaste, galloping toward Wolong Ridge.
Dust billowed across the land.
…
Wolong Ridge, at dawn.
Beneath the pressure of spiritual force, a "shell" shimmered, radiant under the morning light.
Countless figures stood in stunned silence, eyes fixed on the colorful glow of the mystical dome.
Their hearts clenched.
Immortal fate… it truly exists!
The news spread to all corners. Heavenly Messenger Pigeons flew out like a white storm, sweeping across Great Zhou.
…
Northern Prefecture, Dantai Manor.
Dantai Xuan stood grimly in the main hall. Below him, Mo Ju, robed and capped in scholarly attire, squinted at the letter in hand.
"An immortal chance lies beyond Beiluo City, in Wolong Ridge…"
Mo Ju pinched the paper, deep in thought.
The use of messenger pigeons by the House of Heavenly Secrets was never in vain. Once deployed, it meant the message was of seismic import.
"Mo Ju, do you deem this message credible?" Dantai Xuan asked, brows furrowed in concern.
"Ninety percent likelihood," Mo Ju said, gently waving his feather fan. "Does the Prefect recall the battle of Beiluo City?"
Dantai Xuan's expression darkened.
He had once assembled fifty thousand troops, on the cusp of victory—only for the tides to reverse in a baffling defeat.
Since then, misfortune had plagued him: the campaign against Drunken Dragon City had ended in disaster, the army routed by a single spear-wielding warrior—Jiang Li.
"That peerless woman back then was the servant of Lu Ping'an from Beiluo, and what she wielded was no mere martial technique—it was the power of cultivation, born of immortal fate," Mo Ju said, his eyes gleaming.
"Without her intervention, that battle would not have turned. The presence of cultivators is the true variable."
"Prefect, the tides of the realm are shifting. Immortal fate will reshape the world. We must seize this chance—train cultivators of our own, else we become prey in the chaos to come."
"Word has it that the Western Prefecture's overlord, Xiang Shaoyun, has already obtained such fate. His strength now defies comprehension—one man, an army unto himself."
Dantai Xuan's gaze sharpened. Xiang Shaoyun was already formidable. With immortal fate in hand, who could possibly oppose him?
"Mobilize the troops! Head for Wolong Ridge—seize the immortal fate!" he roared, slamming his palm onto the armrest.
…
Western Prefecture, army camp.
Inside a grand tent, Xiang Shaoyun sat imposingly in his great chair, eyes burning as he read the letter.
Before him stood an elderly man, hunched and frail, as if death loomed ever near.
"Shaoyun, you must make for Wolong Ridge. The emergence of immortal fate will shake the order of the world," the old man rasped.
"As for the Heaven and Earth Qi Command, I've already dispatched men to collect it. Prepare yourself. I will send Shougui to accompany you."
"There is no need, Uncle. I alone am sufficient," Xiang Shaoyun said coolly, casting a glance at the elder.
The man was none other than Mo Beike, patriarch of the Mo clan and a peer of the Grandmaster of Confucianism.
His words were stern, his gaze grave.
"Immortal fate chooses its bearer. You alone cannot devour it all."
…
Imperial Capital, Library Pavilion.
The Grandmaster of Confucianism held the letter, staring into the distant morning light.
"Immortal fate… the Heaven and Earth Qi Command…"
He recalled the Emperor's prophetic words and drew in a long breath.
The secret realm in Wolong Ridge has indeed stirred the world…
And yet…