167: Chapter 166 Three parts fake, seven parts real

Yun Ming picked up the wine cup and took a sip. The taste of the rice wine spread in his mouth, sweet with a hint of sourness. He set the cup down, thought for a moment, and began to speak.

"The Sect Master should know that the East Xuan Region hasn't been peaceful in recent years."

Ji Qingchuan's brow twitched slightly, then quickly returned to calmness. "This Lord has heard some rumors. But it's too far away, so the specifics are unclear."

Yun Ming spoke, half-truthfully, half-deceitfully: "Very unpeaceful. Soul Transformation Sects are at war, and even Nascent Souls are like ants. I came from there. I ran and ran, all the way to this sea. When I couldn't run anymore, I found a place to settle down. As for why I chose here—" He glanced out the window at the sea, blue to the point of blackness, "It's poor here. So poor that no one would fight me for it, so poor that no one would come to disturb me. Those Mortals, I've lived here for over a decade, watching them work from sunrise to sunset. It feels good. I don't want to disturb them, and I don't want anyone else to disturb them."

After listening, Ji Qingchuan fell silent for a while. It was unclear how much he believed.

He picked up the wine cup and downed the remaining wine in one go. Yun Ming refilled it for him. He took another sip.

"The great war in the East Xuan Region," Ji Qingchuan set down the cup, his gaze falling on Yun Ming's face, "is a war between Soul Transformation Sects?"

Yun Ming nodded: "Soul Transformation against Soul Transformation. More than one."

Ji Qingchuan's pupils contracted slightly. It was so quick that it would be missed if one wasn't paying close attention. But they did contract. Soul Transformation. Those two words were a taboo on this sea, a legend, a miracle that might not appear even once in millennia. The Wanze True Mansion had stood for thousands of years, and the strongest Cultivator it had ever produced was only at the Late Nascent Soul Stage. Soul Transformation was a Realm they didn't even dare to dream of.

"No wonder," Ji Qingchuan murmured, a hint of indescribable emotion in his tone. He didn't press for details, didn't ask which Sects were fighting, didn't ask how many had died, didn't ask who had won. He simply picked up the wine cup and took another sip.

Yun Ming didn't continue either.

The two of them just sat facing each other, drinking the village's home-brewed rice wine, eating salted fish and pickled vegetables, chatting idly like old friends who hadn't seen each other in a long time.

The sea breeze blew in through the window, causing the coarse cloth tablecloth to flutter slightly.

Neither of them mentioned Qian Jin. Neither mentioned the three missing Golden Core deacons. Neither mentioned the Wanze True Mansion's prestige and dominance over these seas in recent years. Those matters were like the half-eaten plate of peanuts on the table, chewed up, swallowed down, and not brought up again.

After Ji Qingchuan and Yun Ming finished the third pot of wine, he set down his cup and stood up.

"Thank you for your hospitality," he said, his tone still neither warm nor cold, but with an added trace of something indescribable—perhaps human warmth, perhaps something else. "If True Lord Mingyun has time, you are welcome to visit the Wanze True Mansion. Although my place isn't as quiet as yours here, I do have tea."

Yun Ming stood up and cupped his hands in a salute. "Certainly."

Ji Qingchuan nodded, turned, and walked out. At the doorway, his steps paused. He glanced back—not at Yun Ming, but at the small building. At the coarse cloth tablecloth, the chipped earthenware pot, the plate of salted fish. Having looked, he turned and stepped out. A deep blue streak of light rose from Wanghai Peak and flew into the distance. It was fast, disappearing in the blink of an eye where the sea met the sky. The mist over the sea gathered once more, swallowing that patch of deep blue.

Yun Ming stood at the doorway of the small building, watching the receding streak of light for a long time.

The sea breeze blew over, rustling his robe. He looked down at the leftovers on the table—half a plate of salted fish, a few peanuts, a pot of wine not yet finished. If Qin Wan knew, she would surely scold him, asking why he didn't invite the guest to stay for a proper meal, saying these dishes were too shabby, that next time he should prepare more.

Yun Ming turned and walked back inside, sitting down in the chair. He didn't clear the table, didn't go to Cultivate. He just sat there, gazing out the window at the grayish sea.

He rubbed his temples and closed his eyes.

He knew that today's trial was over.

Ji Qingchuan hadn't doubted his cultivation Realm, hadn't pressed about Qian Jin, hadn't dug deeply into his origins.

He hadn't even scanned him with his Divine Sense.

But Yun Ming knew this was only temporary.

Meanwhile,

Ji Qingchuan returned to the Wanze True Mansion. His light streak landed directly at the secluded cultivation area behind the main peak.

Then he sent a voice transmission, summoning several Elders to the main hall for a meeting.

The main hall of the Wanze True Mansion was built atop the main peak, the highest structure on the entire Wanze Island.

No lamps were lit inside the hall. All the light came from the luminous pearls embedded in the walls, casting an eerie blue glow that made everyone's faces look frost-covered.

Ji Qingchuan sat at the head. A cup of tea, already cold, sat on the long table before him. He didn't drink it.

Seven Elders at the Late Golden Core Stage arrived one after another.

The white-haired old man walked at the front, his steps hurried. The other six followed behind him, their expressions varied. Some looked puzzled, some thoughtful, some cautiously observing Ji Qingchuan's expression. They were all speculating about the reason for the Sect Master's summons. Was it the result of his visit to that "True Lord Mingyun"? Or something else?

Ji Qingchuan didn't keep them waiting long. He swept his gaze over the seven present and spoke.

"From today onward, regarding the Tianshui Sect and those islands, no one is to cause any disturbance." His voice wasn't loud, but each word was clear. "I have met that True Lord Mingyun. He participated in the Soul Transformation war in the East Xuan Region. Being able to escape alive means he's not as simple as he appears on the surface."

The expressions of the seven Elders changed simultaneously. The white-haired old man drew a sharp breath.

Everyone's attention was fixed on Ji Qingchuan's words.

Soul Transformation war.

That ordinary-looking Loose Cultivator had actually participated in a Soul Transformation war? What did that even mean? To survive in such a place and escape all the way to this sea—how could his strength and methods be something their Late Golden Core Stage selves could fathom?

"Sect Master," the white-haired old man spoke, his voice somewhat strained, "that True Lord Mingyun... is he truly from the East Xuan Region?"

Ji Qingchuan nodded. "He said so himself. Soul Transformation Sects in the East Xuan Region went to war. He didn't want to get involved, so he escaped. He ran all the way to our sea and found a poor place to settle. Probably three parts false, seven parts true."

The hall fell silent for a moment. A younger Elder said softly, "No wonder Qian Jin and the others..."

He didn't finish. But everyone knew what he meant.

"Fortunately, we didn't act then," the middle-aged female Cultivator patted her chest, her face still somewhat pale. "If we had shown disrespect to that True Lord then, we probably wouldn't have returned either."

The others nodded in agreement. The white-haired old man felt even more lingering fear. That day, he had led six people to "greet" True Lord Mingyun. Although their attitude was respectful, deep down, there was some arrogance of the Wanze True Mansion. Thinking back now, that arrogance had almost gotten them killed. If that person had been in a bad mood and casually eliminated them, the Wanze True Mansion wouldn't have dared utter a single word of complaint. Late Nascent Soul Stage, participated in a Soul Transformation war—who would say half a word against such a person killing a few Golden Core deacons?

Ji Qingchuan looked at the expressions on their faces and said nothing more. He picked up the cold cup of tea, took a sip, and set it down.

"There's one more thing," he said.