Peking Opera Cat: I Became A Zi's Brother

Deep within the gloomy valley, where no sunlight is seen, only an intense, murky aura, like thick ink, slowly flows and churns in the air. Occasionally, it crashes against the rock walls, producing a dull "gurgling" sound, as if countless demons are lurking and whispering within.

On a high platform in the center of the valley, there is a soft cushion woven from millennia-old chaotic silk threads, gleaming with a cold, eerie light.

An leaned against it, propping his head up with one hand, his fingertips casually tracing the edges of an old black book on his lap—the pages were yellowed and curled, covered with obscure and incomprehensible dark red runes, which, even without wind, seemed to exude a sinister, malevolent aura.

His eyelids were lightly closed, his long eyelashes casting a faint shadow beneath his eyelids. He exuded a lazy yet dangerous aura, as if he were just taking a short rest, yet he could perceive every blade of grass and every tree inside and outside the valley. Even the slightest rustling of the wind a thousand miles away could not escape his senses.

After an unknown amount of time, his fingers, which were supporting his head, paused slightly, and the casual force suddenly lessened.

The next second, her eyelids opened gently like butterfly wings, without any haste, but with a calm that seemed to know everything.

Those eyes were as deep as an abyss, so black that one could not see the bottom. There was neither anger nor surprise in them. They were simply looking calmly in the direction of the traitor, with a very faint, almost playful smile on the corner of their lips, as if they felt that everything in front of them was just a play with a pre-written script.

"Hmph, ruthless, are you incapable of that either?"

His voice was as calm as if he were talking about the wind and frost outside the window, without a trace of mockery or disappointment, only a knowing indifference, as if he had foreseen this outcome from the very beginning.

His fingertips continued to slide across the pages, tracing the eerie runes, his tone as casual as if chatting with an old friend:

"Back then, when you fought Mo Yun, you were able to fight to the death, so full of vigor and spirit. Now, after ruling the Pan Sect for decades and wielding the power of chaos, you can't even withstand a single blow from him?"

"but……"

He abruptly changed the subject, a barely perceptible glint of interest flashing in his eyes, and his playful smile deepened.

"Iron Face is more loyal than I imagined. Even though he was in dire straits and his meridians were injured, he still held on to you and refused to let go, preferring to slow down so that you could be safe. This brotherhood stands out particularly in this chaotic world where cats are all looking out for themselves."

He shook his head slightly, seemingly finding it amusing, yet also seemingly laughable. With a flick of his fingertip, a wisp of condensed chaotic energy quietly rose, swirling in the air several times before solidifying into a semi-transparent water mirror.

The light and shadow in the mirror shifted, vaguely reflecting the figures of Iron Face supporting Ruthless as they staggered forward through the forest—their clothes were stained with blood, their steps faltering, yet they still moved with difficulty in the same direction, the location of the Supervisor Sect, and also the location of the Black Rock Cave.

"Does he want to return to the Du Sect to recuperate, and also rely on Tang Ming and the three great magical artifacts to turn the tide?"

Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he chuckled softly, his voice still calm and even, yet carrying a disdainful air as if looking down upon ants.

"It's a pity that you are not facing the same Mo Yun who could have fought you to a draw back then. Moreover, Black Rock Cave is hidden deep in the mountains of the Duzong territory, separated from the Duzong only by the Soul-Severing Ridge. Mo Yun will inevitably set foot on the Duzong's land sooner or later if she wants to save Tang Ming. The retreat you think you have is just moving the battlefield to your own doorstep."

As soon as he finished speaking, a dark figure emerged from the thick chaos like a ghost. It was a slender figure surrounded by a faint black mist. It was Huan Ye.

She knelt on one knee below the platform, her head slightly bowed, her voice respectful yet carrying a barely perceptible hint of solemnity:

"My lord, the ruthless sect has been completely purified by Mo Yun. Judging from the aura, Mo Yun did not expend any effort. He simply relied on the natural spread of his own power to uproot the chaos of the entire sect. Even the three altars that nourished the chaos have been reduced to ashes."

"I know."

An didn't look at her, still gazing at the water mirror, his tone calm and unwavering, as if Huan Ye had only reported a trivial matter.

"To purify the entire sect with a mere wave of your hand, to touch the barrier of the world, that's quite interesting. Mo Yun, your strength is indeed growing stronger."

Huan Ye was slightly taken aback, seemingly not expecting that An had already seen through everything, but she did not ask any more questions—in front of this lord, too many questions were always superfluous.

She composed herself and continued her report methodically:

"According to our informants, Mo Yun has taken Xiao Qing, Bai Tang, Wu Song, Da Fei, and Mo Zi, a group of six, and headed towards Black Rock Cave. Wu Qing and Tie Mian are currently crossing Broken Soul Ridge and fleeing towards the headquarters of the Du Sect. Judging from their route, they intend to return to the Du Sect first to stabilize their injuries with secret medicine before activating the three major magical artifacts for defense. It seems they want to confront Mo Yun head-on within the territory of the Du Sect."

"The three great magical artifacts?"

An raised an eyebrow, and the water mirror at his fingertips dissipated, transforming into a wisp of chaotic energy that re-entered the surrounding environment.

"The Qiankun Demon Suppression Tower, the Soul Locking Chain, the Codex of Laws... these are the orthodox treasures of the Du Sect, passed down for thousands of years. They were once famous and could set up the 'Three Realms Demon Suppression Array' to suppress chaos and weaken high-level spiritual power. Unfortunately, in the face of absolute power, even the most powerful array is nothing more than a self-deceiving decoration."

Just then, several figures emerged from the chaos and stopped beside Huan Ye, bowing respectfully to An on the high platform. Their movements were uniform and showed great reverence.

Master Lingzuan stood with his hands behind his back, his metallic armor gleaming coldly in the chaos, emanating an aura of cold hardness like refined iron, his voice deep and resonant:

"My lord, the Pan Sect has fallen, and the Chaos stronghold has suffered severe damage. If we don't intercept them in time, Mo Yun and her group, after rescuing Tang Ming, may very well launch an attack on the Du Sect. At that time, our Chaos forces in the Central Plains will suffer heavy losses. Should we mobilize manpower to intercept them at Broken Soul Ridge?"

Ma Buliang was dressed in a faded blue robe, his posture upright like bamboo. In his hand he held a black writing brush, the handle of which was wrapped with fine, chaotic patterns, and the tip of the brush gleamed with a faint light.

Although he possessed a scholarly elegance, a barely perceptible ruthlessness and cunning lurked in his eyes. He bowed slightly and said:

"My lord, in my opinion, there is no need to rush to intercept him. Wuqing and Moyun have an old grudge, and the enmity from when they both suffered heavy losses may not be easily forgotten. It would be better to let Wuqing return to the Duzong to set up defenses, let him fight Moyun to the death, and then we can reap the benefits. This would save us effort and allow us to see Moyun's true strength. Wouldn't that be better?"

Zhi Rou stood beside Ma Bulang, her figure slender. Her plain white dress shone like a sudden ray of moonlight in the chaos. A paper umbrella slung across her back, its surface simple and clean, yet its edges were embroidered with faint chaotic patterns, clashing with her gentle aura and creating an eerie sense of contradiction. Her voice was soft, like a spring breeze brushing across water, yet it carried a penetrating power that seemed to pierce through the chaos itself.

"The chaotic barrier of Black Rock Cave was set up according to your instructions, Lord An. Although it cannot stop Mo Yun, it can delay him for at least three hours. If Tang Ming is rescued, we will lose one bargaining chip to restrain Xiao Qing. If Wu Qing can use the terrain of the Du Sect and the three great magical artifacts to hold back Mo Yun, we may be able to find a weakness in Xiao Qing and the others and capture them to eliminate future troubles."

The other members of the Twelve Sorrows echoed each other, some advocating for a proactive interception, others agreeing to watch from the sidelines. For a moment, various discussions arose in the valley, but no one dared to make a loud noise, maintaining their awe of An.

Only Yinmolu remained silently standing at the end of the crowd, holding his signature broom in both hands, his posture as upright as a pine tree, without uttering a word.

A faint aura of death swirled around him, intertwining with the dense chaotic energy around him, like a silent shadow. He neither participated in the discussion nor expressed any attitude, but simply stood quietly, as if he had merged with the valley, waiting for An's final instructions.

An listened to the discussions below, his face still showing that lazy and indifferent expression. His fingers gently tapped the black leather book on his lap, making a soft "tap, tap, tap" sound.

The voice was neither fast nor slow, but it carried an undeniable pressure, striking everyone's heart like a heavy hammer. The originally noisy discussions gradually subsided, and the valley fell silent again, with only the sound of flowing chaos remaining.

"No hurries."

He spoke slowly, his voice not loud, yet it carried clearly to every corner of the valley.

"If Mo Yun wants to save Tang Ming, let him do it. If Wu Qing wants to return to Du Zong to set up defenses, let him do it. Black Rock Cave is in Du Zong's territory, and Du Zong is the foundation of Iron Face. This play will be more interesting if it takes place in Du Zong."

He looked up towards the direction where Black Rock Cave connected to the Supervisory Sect, a deep light flashing in his eyes. That light contained endless calculation and amusement, as if everything in the world was merely a piece on his chessboard.

"A good show has only just begun. What we need to do is not to interrupt, but to watch closely. Let's see just how strong this powerful figure who has touched the world's barrier really is; and let's see if Ruthless and Iron Face can stir up some waves on their own turf with their trump cards—an imprisoned Tang Ming and the three old artifacts, the Qiankun Demon Suppression Tower."

He paused, the smile on his lips growing increasingly playful, carrying a chillingly eerie quality:

"As for the bargaining chips... Tang Ming has never been our only bargaining chip. Mo Yun's weakness, his ruthless obsession, the foundation of the Du Sect, and even the 'justice' in the hearts of those little guys are all pawns that can be used. We just need to wait patiently until the most crucial moment, and then give it a gentle push, and we can make this play develop in the direction we hope for."

As soon as he finished speaking, he closed his eyes again, resuming his previous reclining posture. His languid aura grew even stronger, as if the discussion and report just now were merely an insignificant interlude that had never happened.

Huan Ye and the others exchanged glances, still harboring doubts, but daring not to speak further—they knew An's methods well, and understood that in this lord's schemes, any unnecessary intervention could lead to unpredictable consequences. They all bowed respectfully and responded in unison:

"I will follow your orders, sir."

Then, it quietly retreated into the chaos, its movements light and without making a sound.

Ma Bulang put away his brush and left side by side with Zhi Rou. As Zhi Rou walked away, the oil-paper umbrella on her back swayed gently, making a soft "rustling" sound that was particularly clear in the quiet valley. Master Lingzuan, on the other hand, led several of his men in the direction of the report from his informant, as if he was going to investigate further.

Only Yinmolu remained, still holding his broom, standing silently in place, like a silent statue in the valley, blending into the surrounding chaos and darkness. Only after a long time did he slowly turn around, transforming into a black shadow and disappearing into the depths of the valley.

The gloomy valley fell into extreme silence once again, with only the gurgling sound of the chaotic energy flowing and the occasional soft turning of pages from the black book on the high platform, echoing quietly in the darkness.

Meanwhile, in the direction of Black Rock Cave, Mo Yun and her group had arrived at the edge of Broken Soul Ridge. In the distant mountains and forests, they could vaguely feel the fluctuations of the Chaos Barrier.

Inside the main camp of the Du Sect, the disciples left behind have received the news and are busily preparing secret medicines and magical artifacts; Wuqing and Tiemian are still struggling to cross the Broken Soul Ridge, heading towards their last escape route.