Severing Ties: The Sect Regrets My Departure

Chapter 232: I, Qin Meran, Will Prove Myself This Time!

A figure draped in darkness crouched outside the protective formation of the Listening-to-Rain Pavilion. His eyes darted nervously, scanning the shadows with extreme vigilance. In his hand, he gripped a wooden nail that pulsed with a faint, jade-green luster. He pressed it against the invisible barrier, driving it slowly toward the pavilion’s outer wall.

Strangely, the grand formation remained dormant. It did not ripple, flash, or counter-attack, as if it were completely oblivious to the intrusion.

“Tsk, tsk. To think they actually have a Night Illuminating Nail!”

Inside the courtyard, Sui Xing—the Star Shattering Forging Platform—immediately recognized the tool. As the most knowledgeable among the artifacts, he eagerly lectured Gu Xiu.

“The Night Illuminating Wood is an exceptionally rare material with a unique property: it can phase through spiritual formations. Ordinary formation-breaking tools often incorporate a sliver of it.”

“However,” Sui Xing continued, sounding like a connoisseur, “a skilled Refiner can forge hundreds of catties of this wood into a single Night Illuminating Nail. It is a divine object for saboteurs. With the right technique, one can manipulate an enemy’s formation silently, spying on everything inside without the master ever noticing.”

“The only reason we detected him just now,” Sui Xing added with a scoff, “is because we know this formation intimately, and that clumsy oaf outside missed a beat when he hammered it in.”

Gu Xiu nodded in understanding.

The spy had likely been working on the exterior for a long time. If not for that momentary lapse in control that caused a minute fluctuation, Gu Xiu might not have realized that a wooden nail had been driven into his defenses.

“Squeak! Squeak!”

The little black monkey screeched, eyes flashing with aggression. It immediately conjured a squad of puppets, ready to storm out the gate and drag the sneaker back by his collar.

But before the monkey could move, Sui Xing blocked its path.

“Wait, wait, wait! Look at him. That’s a death warrior. He dares to use a Night Illuminating Nail because he’s here to probe us, not attack us.”

Sui Xing’s voice took on a conspiratorial tone. “He wants to test the waters. If we grab him now, we lose the trail to his master, and we alert the enemy that we’re watching. That’s bad business.”

Gu Xiu glanced at the floating anvil. It had manifested a large, singular eye that curved into a wicked, cunning smile. Beside it, the Carefree Jade Pendant bobbed up and down excitedly.

Clearly, these two were cooking up a scheme.

“It’s not strange to be targeted,” Sui Xing reasoned. “Your identity as a consecrated elder of the Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion is a beacon for trouble. Everyone wants to know who you are. With the winds from the Eastern Wastelands blowing harder and new faces flooding Cloud Firmament City daily, remaining completely mysterious might actually backfire.”

“So,” the anvil suggested, “why not play along? Let him drive the nail in. Let them see exactly what we want them to see.”

“We might even catch a big fish,” Sui Xing finished with a metaphorical grin.

“That’s right, that’s right! Long line, big fish!” The Carefree Jade Pendant vibrated in agreement.

The little black monkey paused, scratched its head, and then squeaked twice in approval. Even the Duxian Sword, usually the most stoic of the group, hummed a low note of consent.

They were all in.

Watching his four artifacts buzzing with adrenaline and mischief, Gu Xiu turned his head to look at little Ping’an, who was quietly practicing calligraphy at a nearby table.

Is it really safe to let this child grow up around these four maniacs?

Then again, Ping’an had the remnant soul of Tantai Shi guiding her. Gu Xiu decided not to worry.

“Since you’re all so enthusiastic, I’ll leave it to you,” Gu Xiu said, declining to interfere.

His Ten Thousand Demon Ancestor Dao Platform had just formed, and he needed to stabilize it. Furthermore, he had inspiration for his eighth Dao Platform and wanted to test it within the Mountain River Remnant World. He didn’t want to be distracted by petty spies.

If the “Four Ancient Sages” wanted to play, he would let them play.

Outside the gate, the black-clad spy had no idea he was being hunted by four sentient artifacts.

He stared intently at the Listening-to-Rain Pavilion. When he confirmed there was absolutely no reaction from inside, his shoulders sagged in relief, and a look of disdain crept onto his face.

He was a professional. His mission was simple: plant the bug, hijack the formation’s sensory feed, and spy on the owner.

That slip-up earlier had nearly given him a heart attack. He had been ready to detonate his dantian or flee instantly. But it turned out to be a false alarm. The master of this pavilion was clearly mediocre; he hadn’t noticed the fluctuation at all.

Emboldened, the spy resumed his work.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

He struck the nail rhythmically. This time, the process was flawless. The formation membrane parted like water, and the nail sank deep.

A smile touched his lips beneath the mask.

He performed a series of hand seals, imprinting his spiritual signature, then wrapped several red threads around the exposed head of the nail. In the blink of an eye, the wood turned transparent and vanished, fusing perfectly with the formation.

It was done. The nail was now part of the array; it could not be removed without destroying the formation itself.

He cast one last sneering glance at the Listening-to-Rain Pavilion, turned on his heel, and vanished into the night.

However…

What the spy did not notice was that on a roof beam across the alley, a scholar had watched the entire performance.

If any citizen of Cloud Firmament City were to look up, they would recognize the figure immediately. It was the refined, polite teacher, Ning Yuan.

Ning Yuan glanced at the spot where the Night Illuminating Nail had disappeared, hesitating for a fraction of a second. She did not approach the pavilion. Instead, she silently dropped from the roof and trailed the spy.

To the world, she was Ning Yuan. But in truth, she held a status that would make the city tremble.

Azure Mystic Sacred Land. Peak Master of Ink Scroll Peak.

Qin Meran!

She had been in Cloud Firmament City for some time. Her goals were twofold: to severe her Inner Demon, and to uncover the truth about the “Ink Chill Tower.”

Homage of Ten Thousand Rhymes.

Her previous investigation into the phenomenon had hit a dead end, and sect politics had forced her to divert her attention. But she had never forgotten. This courtyard—this Listening-to-Rain Pavilion—was the epicenter of her suspicions.

Even her own Teacher had once tried to infiltrate this residence.

She intended to follow the vine to find the melon. She would play the mantis stalking the cicada, unaware that she was the oriole waiting behind.

Or so she thought.

The “scholar” Ning Yuan moved with ghostly grace, completely unaware that from the silent courtyard she had just been watching, a nearly transparent longsword had slipped out.

The Duxian Sword hovered low to the ground, invisible and soundless, trailing behind her.

Who was the mantis? Who was the oriole? Until the final strike, no one could say.

The black-clad spy was cautious. After leaving the alley, he didn’t head straight to his rendezvous. He spent the entire day wandering the city, browsing stalls, eating at taverns, and acting like a bored rogue cultivator.

Only when night fell, just a cup of tea’s time before the city-wide curfew, did he suddenly accelerate.

He darted toward the northern district, arriving at a nondescript, humble courtyard. He knocked a rhythmic code on the door and slipped inside.

He stopped at the entrance of the main hall. He did not enter.

A voice from the shadows inside spoke first. “Done?”

“As per your instructions, it is done.”

“Did you alert them?”

“The master of Listening-to-Rain Pavilion has some reputation, but he is blind to the subtleties of the Night Illuminating Nail. He detected nothing.”

“Very good. You have done well.”

“My mission is complete. Regarding the promised reward…?”

“The reward is no problem,” the voice inside chuckled, sounding warm and inviting. “Step forward.”

The spy’s eyes lit up with greed. He took two eager steps toward the hall.

But the moment his foot crossed the threshold, a chill spiked his spine. Instinct screamed danger.

He spun around to flee.

He was too late.

His body froze mid-turn. His hands flew to his throat, his eyes bulging as he stared back at the open doors.

A figure in a gray robe stood there, calmly retracting a razor-thin silver thread.

“I will burn your reward for you,” the gray-robed man said indifferently. “I guarantee it will be a generous amount. Go in peace.”

The spy tried to scream, to curse, to beg, but only a wet gurgle escaped his lips.

Thud.

His head slid off his shoulders and hit the ground.

The gray-robed man moved efficiently. He stepped out, stripped the corpse of its Storage Ring, searched the clothes, and retrieved the bundle of red threads used to control the nail.

Then, he walked out the back gate.

Perched on a high wall, Qin Meran watched the execution with eyes as calm as a stagnant pond. In the cultivation world, silencing a pawn was as natural as breathing. She did not flinch.

She waited a beat, then followed.

Curfew had fallen. The streets were empty.

The gray-robed man was skilled. He wove through the northern district’s alleys, doubling back twice, before slipping into a second, even more secluded courtyard.

Then, silence.

“What is he doing?”

Qin Meran frowned. She waited patiently in the darkness. Ten breaths. Fifty breaths. One hundred breaths.

Still no movement.

Finally, her patience snapped. She vaulted into the courtyard, her spiritual sense flaring.

It was empty.

Inside the main room, she found the remnants of a small, short-range teleportation formation. It was shattered—a one-time-use array designed to self-destruct after activation.

“Damn it!”

The trail was cold. No amount of tracking skill could follow a disintegrated teleportation signal.

Qin Meran’s face turned the color of a storm cloud. She clenched her fists, her knuckles white.

“My Teacher…” she hissed through gritted teeth. “I underestimated your cunning.”

She had lost the lead. But she had not lost the war.

“I may not know where you are hiding, Teacher, but since your target is the Listening-to-Rain Pavilion, it confirms my suspicion. You are also hunting for the Ink Chill Tower.”

“And the Ink Chill Tower is inside that pavilion!”

Qin Meran’s eyes burned with a fierce, competitive light.

“Do not blame your disciple for interfering, Teacher. Opportunities in this world belong to those with the fate to grasp them. I will compete with you for this one.”

“This ally… I, Qin Meran, will secure it!”

Yes, an ally.

The legends of the Ink Chill Tower were too vast to ignore. In the world of talismans, that name was a titan. Others might covet the tower’s inventory of talismans, but Qin Meran had a grander vision.

She didn’t just want the talismans. She wanted the heavyweights behind them. She wanted to bind the Ink Chill Tower to her chariot, or better yet, obtain its inheritance.

If she could return to the Azure Mystic Sacred Land with the backing of the Ink Chill Tower…

Her merit would be undeniable. No one would dare whisper about the “Earth Cloud Sprout” incident ever again.

She, Qin Meran, had come to Cloud Firmament City to prove herself.

She would wash away the stain on her reputation.

She would re-establish her dominance in Azure Mystic.

And no one, not even her teacher, would stand in her way.