[Year 958]
[Your family escorted the remains of the Spear Saint back to the Imperial Capital.
The Imperial Dynasty held a magnificent funeral, extolling Gu Fenghua's heroic deeds.
For his supreme sacrifice in protecting the nation and mutually perishing alongside the Wu Tribe's mighty figure, the Nirvana Sage Elder, he was titled the Duke of National Defense.]
[The entire nation wept in mourning.]
"Animals!"
Inside the ancestral hall, Li Chang flew into a rare, unbridled rage.
Li Xinghuo stepped forward to console him. "Uncle Chang, please calm your anger. Senior Gu's remains have been returned home, securing his eternal renown in both life and death, and..."
Yet, as the words left his lips, they tasted like ash; he found he could not continue.
Li Xinjue's eyes narrowed, gleaming with a cold light.
"The Imperial Dynasty killed him. That bastard surnamed Min was acting on the orders of that demon empress, Wenren. Now that he is dead, she dares to bestow a title upon him.
When a man lays down his life for his own convictions, who cares for such trivial titles? Let alone one steeped in hypocrisy.
With this grand proclamation, who knows how many ignorant cultivators—yearning to become the proud and unyielding heroes of Gu Fenghua's fabricated legend—will blindly march to serve that demon empress."
"To exploit even the dead one final time... she is worse than pigs and dogs."
Seeing Uncle Chang's expression darken further, Li Xinghuo hastily intervened to silence the indignant Li Xinjue.
"Let us speak no more of this for now. The major factions of Clearpeak Prefecture are preparing to evacuate. Come with me to see them off."
The two young men departed.
Left behind, Li Chang could not dispel the heavy gloom marring his features, ultimately releasing it in a long, weary sigh.
He gently stroked his dantian, where a formidable long spear was being nurtured. Its silver radiance pulsed with profound Dao rhythm, prompting him to exhale a heavy breath of stale air.
...
Elsewhere, at a grand banquet in Clearpeak Prefecture, the major factions of the Prefecture had gathered.
After a hollow round of pleasantries, they began to disperse. Of the thousands of factions that once flourished, only a sparse hundred-odd thousand individuals now remained.
The old comrades the family had made within the Department of Immortal Suppression back in the day were all present.
Zhangsun Buhuo gazed at the retreating backs of the evacuees, a trace of melancholy flashing across his face.
"It was so difficult to find a place to settle and rebuild, and we did not even get to enjoy a few fleeting days of peace..."
The expressions of everyone seated at the table turned visibly strained.
The Zhangsun Clan was cursed with truly abysmal luck.
Decades ago, when the Wu Tribe invaded Sunreach Prefecture, the Zhangsun Clan had been forced to uproot, wandering in destitution for nearly thirty years.
Eventually, they had found refuge in Clearpeak Prefecture. Over the past century, they had painstakingly forged marriage alliances, hoping that in a few more centuries, they could fully integrate into the hidden faction, the Xuanyuan Clan.
Yet now, the Blood Moon had completely consumed the Southern Frontier.
Rumor had it that the Old Ancestor of the Zhangsun Clan was currently driven half-mad, desperately scouring the world for a genuinely safe sanctuary.
Lately, no matter how deep their past friendship, anyone unfortunate enough to cross paths with the Zhangsun Clan's Old Ancestor would be subjected to a bitter scolding, regardless of the topic...
"What are the Eternal Immortal Sect's plans?" Zhangsun Buhuo asked, turning toward Duanmu Qi, whose expression was equally unsightly.
"What else can we do?" Duanmu Qi gritted his teeth. "Go ask the Li Clan."
Instantly, pairs of anxious eyes fixated on Li Xinghuo and Li Xinjue, who had been drinking together in stoic silence.
Neither of these two Li Clan juniors was a simple character.
Li Xinghuo served as the Li Clan's external affairs elder, managing the family's worldly dealings.
In the outside world, he was infamously known as the Cold-Faced Asura.
Just days prior, assassins from the Peerless Hall had attempted his murder; in response, he had hunted them across three entire prefectures before finally letting the matter rest.
As for Li Xinjue... he was the head of the Shadow Division within the Li Clan's Hall of Heavenly Principles. That title alone carried a terrifying, suffocating weight.
Nowadays, the major factions had gradually grown numb to the continuous, unnatural emergence of rising stars from the Li Clan.
It was such a common occurrence that Duanmu Qi had once gone to secretly study them, earnestly asking the old Li family how they managed to cultivate so many peerless geniuses.
No one had answered him. Later, Duanmu Qi had accidentally wandered into the cemetery at the rear mountain of the Li estate. After gazing upon those rows of blood-red epitaphs, he never asked again.
"Past Grandhaven Prefecture, then to Clearpeak Prefecture, and finally past Westfall Prefecture—crossing the towering mountains, lies our Azure Cloud Prefecture."
Li Xinghuo picked up his wine cup, utterly ignoring their expectant gazes.
He took a fierce gulp, exhaling a breath thick with the stinging chill of winter and strong alcohol.
"The people of every land are different.
For the major factions of your Clearpeak Prefecture, upon hearing of the Blood Moon and its mighty figures, your first instinct is to relocate if you can.
Several decades to a century is more than enough time for you to pack up and escape the danger."
"Between simply surviving or fighting desperately for your lives, surviving is undoubtedly the wiser choice. This is human instinct."
His cold expression gradually softened into nostalgia, his thoughts drifting back to a distant past.
"I heard from my elders that in the past, outsiders used to call the people of our Azure Cloud Region 'barbarians'.
Centuries have passed, and outsiders now politely call us the people of Azure Cloud. But deep in our bones, we are still barbarians."
"Barbarians cannot enjoy wealth and fleeting glory; we simply aren't used to it. The food from back home still tastes the best, and the beds back home are still the most comfortable.
When I returned from the slaughter in the Northern Frontier, having not slept for over a century, I slumbered for a whole month straight the moment my head hit the pillow."
Everyone at the table frowned slightly. The people of Azure Cloud would not run; they would only fight to the bitter end.
This stubborn habit had started back in the Azure Cloud Region. These barbarians simply never relocated. Even if they ventured out to conquer the world, their roots had to remain firmly planted in Azure Cloud Prefecture.
Soon after, the crowd's eyes shifted, fixing squarely on Duanmu Qi.
"Why are you all looking at me?" Duanmu Qi asked, his gaze darting evasively.
Jiang Tianjun's expression turned exceedingly peculiar.
"I heard a rumor long ago that in your rear mountain, there is an ancient tree. A travel bundle hangs from its branches, and whenever the wind blows, it jingles with packed belongings."
"Who?!!" Duanmu Qi's weathered face flushed an indignant red. "Who is spreading such baseless rumors? There is no such thing!"
"I did." Li Xinghuo's expression was incredibly solemn. "I saw it with my own eyes; it is absolutely no lie."
"Hahaha!"
The tension broke, and everyone at the banquet erupted into roaring laughter.
The disciples and elders of the Eternal Immortal Sect were known to be incredibly formidable, but right now, their representative had been reduced to a helpless laughingstock.
"I won't argue with you, there is no such thing!" Duanmu Qi remained as stubborn as a mule. Seeing the crowd practically crying from laughter, he had no choice but to bury his embarrassment in his cup and keep drinking.
The conversation soon drifted back to ordinary matters: which family had produced a new genius, and which family's genius had lost their life.
Through it all, Li Xinghuo did not mention a single word about offering the Li Clan's help.
These major factions had far too many worldly entanglements. Just like the Zhangsun family, even Zhangsun Buhuo himself could not firmly decide whether they should flee or stay.
Yet, as the crowd smiled brightly and raised their cups in a toast, Li Xinghuo silently murmured a single vow to himself:
"When the Blood Moon finally descends, regardless of which family steps up to block it... on the very foremost mountain peak, I will be there."