Gou Zai Fei Men made up myths

The fat shopkeeper froze, his undergarments instantly soaked with cold sweat. He slowly turned his head and saw a pale face shrouded in a black cloak. It was none other than his superior, the "Soul Reaper" under the command of the "Poison Scholar," with whom he had a one-way communication.

"M-Sir..." the fat shopkeeper's voice trembled.

"What's going on with Zhou Tong?" The Soul Reaper's voice was devoid of emotion. "Why has contact been lost? Was the last message actually sent?"

"I have no idea!" The fat shopkeeper knelt down with a thud, kowtowing repeatedly. "After Manager Zhou sent someone to collect the items last time, we haven't heard from him again! I sent three messages as per the rules, but... there was no reply! I really don't know anything!"

The Soul Reaper stared at him with icy eyes, seemingly judging the truthfulness of his words. After a long while, he said in a sinister tone:

"The Black Crow Ridge matter wasn't handled well, and the higher-ups are very unhappy. Things are tense lately; the Azure Cloud Sect and the Hundred Treasures Pavilion are investigating like mad dogs. You here, remain silent for now. Without new instructions, do not take any action."

"If anything unusual occurs, immediately send an alert via Dead Mailbox No. 3. Understand?"

"Understood! Understood!" The fat shopkeeper nodded repeatedly.

The Soul Reaper said no more, and with a flicker of his figure, disappeared into the shadows in the corner like a ghost, as if he had never been there.

The fat shopkeeper slumped to the ground, panting heavily. It took him a while to get up, stagger back into the house, and tightly close the door. His heart was still pounding.

Unbeknownst to him, in a private room on the second floor of the teahouse across from the inn, by the window, a young man who appeared to be an ordinary tea drinker slowly put down his teacup. At the bottom of the cup, a faint, eerie mark, identical to the aura emanating from the Soul Reaper, flickered slightly before disappearing.

The young man paid for the tea, got up and left, merging into the crowd on the street. His consciousness, like an invisible thread, had long since been tied to the "soul-reaper" who had blended into the shadows.

The same thing was happening quietly in different forms in places like the Blackwater Marsh Ghost Market and the gathering points of rogue cultivators on the edge of the miasma rainforest.

The elite members of the Shadow Guard, like the most patient hunters, used the bait laid out by Zhou Tong and their own superb infiltration and tracking skills to gradually uncover the network of the Xuan Yin Sect's outer perimeter, recording the location of each node, the characteristics of each contact person, and the patterns of each information transmission.

Deep within the Crimson Sun Peak of the Blazing Sun Sect lies a secret chamber shrouded in layers of restrictions.

Huoyun Daoist's face was ashen, and he held a jade slip in his hand. It was a formal notification from the Alliance Council Hall regarding the punishment of his disciple for violating regulations. The jade slip made a creaking sound under the weight of his palm.

"Bang!" The jade slip was slammed to the ground and shattered into dust.

"This is outrageous! You brat Shen Mo, you old scoundrel Han Lin! Do you really think my Blazing Sun Sect is made of clay?!" Daoist Huoyun roared, crimson flames rising around him, illuminating the secret chamber in a fiery red glow.

Opposite him, a shadowy figure, its face hidden in distorted light, slowly spoke, its voice dry and hoarse. It was Jian Wuying: "Brother Huoyun, calm down. Shen Mo is as cunning as a fox. He's putting on this official act to force us to make a mistake so he can claim the moral high ground. If we act now, we'll be playing right into his hands."

"Are we just going to let him manipulate us like this?" Daoist Huoyun roared. "The disciples in our sect are full of complaints, saying that the alliance rules are above all else, and our Lieyang Sect has to tuck its tail between its legs! If this continues, morale will collapse!"

"A moment's patience can avert a hundred days of trouble." The illusory image of Sword Shadow flickered.

"Hasn't the Xuan Yin Sect already responded?"

Upon hearing the mention of the Xuan Yin Sect, the fierce glint in Huo Yun Dao Ren's eyes lessened slightly, and he lowered his voice: "'Ghost Hand' agreed? What does he want?"

"He doesn't want much." Jian Wuying smiled coldly. "After it's done, he can copy the core inheritances of the three halls of Qingyun Sect: alchemy, weapon crafting, and formation. In addition, the area three thousand miles south of Blackwater Marsh will be designated as a 'corpse-raising ground' for his Xuanyin Sect."

"What an enormous appetite!" Daoist Huoyun's pupils contracted. "The inheritance of the three halls of alchemy, weapon crafting, and array formation is one thing, but south of the Blackwater Swamp, there are several small spiritual veins and many mortal kingdoms!"

"You can't catch a wolf without risking your cub," Jian Wuying said calmly. "Without the Xuan Yin Sect's underhanded methods to disrupt the rear and distract Shen Mo, how can we exert pressure head-on? Besides, once it's done, all the resources of the vast Qingyun Mountain territory will belong to us. Why would we care about a few scraps?"

"What 'Ghost Hand' wants is nothing more than a place where he can stand openly and honestly, so he won't have to hide in the gutter forever. Give it to him."

Fire Cloud Daoist pondered for a moment, a fierce glint in his eyes: "Very well! Then let's proceed according to plan. How's the contact with the 'Sand Demon' in the Northern Desert going?"

"The leader of the Sand Demons, 'Old Monster Red Scorpion,' has tentatively agreed that as long as we provide enough resources and spirit stones from the Central Plains and promise to open five border markets after the matter is completed, he will deploy troops to the northern border at the agreed time to create pressure."

Jian Wuying said, "There's some trouble with the 'Witchcraft Cult' in the Southern Wilderness. Those barbarians are insatiably greedy and are asking for too much. We're still negotiating."

"Get this done as quickly as possible!" Daoist Huoyun gritted his teeth. "Press on multiple fronts, forcing Shen Mo to be unable to attend to both ends! Then, our two families will launch a joint attack, using the pretext of 'Qingyun Sect's perverse actions disrupting the balance of the Southern Region,' to force him to disband the alliance and hand over the secret realm and inheritance! If he doesn't comply... he will be courting his own destruction!"

Sword Shadow's illusory figure swayed slightly: "Indeed. However, before that, we must keep him in the dark. Tomorrow at the alliance meeting, regarding the allocation of the southern 'Crimson Flame Crystal Mine,' my Heavenly Sword Sect can make some concessions to show our sincerity in 'cooperation.'"

"Furthermore, our sect's 'Sword Master' competition is imminent. We can send out invitations to Shen Mo to attend. If he comes, it will be seen as weakness; if he doesn't come, it will be seen as arrogance. We can make a big deal out of this."

"Excellent!" Daoist Huoyun clapped his hands. "Let's do it that way! Let's see how Shen Mo handles this storm from all directions!"

In the secret chamber, the scent of conspiracy, mixed with the heat of flames and the chill of sword energy, permeated the air.

Shen Mo stood by the window, gazing at the deep night in the distance. The mountain wind was biting, blowing his robes. Su Xiao appeared silently behind him.

"Sect Leader, the incarnation of Sword Shadowless, appeared at Crimson Sun Peak of the Blazing Sun Sect an incense stick's time ago and had a secret conversation with Fire Cloud for about half an hour. The secret room was forcibly isolated, and the content of the conversation is unknown."

"But afterwards, there were abnormal spiritual energy fluctuations at several hidden sentries on the border between the Blazing Sun Sect and the Heavenly Sword Sect, which seemed to be setting up long-range communication arrays."

"In addition, our spies in the Northern Desert report that the Sand Demon Tribe is making unusual moves, with large amounts of supplies gathering at the border. The Southern Wilderness Witchcraft Cult also has envoys secretly entering the country, their movements shrouded in mystery."

Shen Mo listened quietly, his face showing no surprise, as if everything was within his expectations.

"Understood." He uttered three words softly, his gaze still fixed on the dark distance, where a faint flash of lightning disappeared deep within the clouds.

"The net is already cast. Now, let's see which fish can't resist taking the bait first."

His voice was soft, yet it carried a cold, all-knowing understanding.