The Sect Leader's Seat (9)

Lin Qianshuang seethed inwardly. Who in their right mind would choose to become a demon cultivator? If circumstances hadn’t forced her hand, there’s no way she’d have swallowed that life-threatening magic core.

The layered barriers of the Demon Realm parted as the galloping carriage rolled forward, shimmering like clusters of pale violet cicada wings. They dissolved into nothingness the moment the wheels left the domain’s edge.

The familiar Demon Realm Light Gate loomed before her, just as radiant and impregnable as when she’d departed.

With the Azure Dragon Totem insignia from the Tianshu City Lord, the demon guards along the route bowed respectfully and let her pass unchallenged.

Once off the carriage, Lin Qianshuang naturally turned toward the Jiuchong Demon Palace. Before she took two steps, however, she was intercepted by Su Qing—the Demon Palace’s Left Protector, come to greet them.

Spotting the familiar face, Lin instinctively reached up to touch her cheek. Feeling the mask’s presence, she lowered her hand with a sigh of relief.

Su Qing glanced at the three of them, noting how Chen Shangqing and Xu Zheng flanked Lin Qianshuang’s sides. This confirmed his suspicion: Lin Qianshuang must be the envoy from Tianshu Scattered Cultivation City. He stepped forward politely and addressed Lin Qianshuang, “Messenger from Tianshu City, the Domain Lord is resting at Shuanghan Manor—not within the Jiuchong Demon Palace. Follow me, and I’ll guide you there.”

Lin Qianshuang trailed behind Su Qing, her brow furrowing. Does the Demon Realm even have a place called Shuanghan Manor? She’d traversed every corner of this realm yet never encountered it.

A faint outline of an immortal hall hovered atop the towering demon peaks suspended above. Jagged cliffs cradled hidden palaces and pavilions along endless mountain ranges.

Walking the cold, windswept plank road, Lin Qianshuang grew increasingly uneasy. The surroundings felt eerily familiar. It wasn’t until she glimpsed the unmistakable main square of the Penglai Immortal Sect that it clicked.

“So this is why it feels so familiar,” she muttered. Shuanghan Manor was modeled after her former sect’s architecture—a near identical one-to-one replica. The archway bore the characters Shuang-Han, etched in ochre stone and dusted with gold powder, triggering a flicker of memory.

Her master once joked that if she wanted to visit Penglai Immortal Sect, she would build one for her to save her the trouble of going back.

It wasn’t that she was narcissistic, but the name “Shuanghan” seemed to link the first and last characters of her and her master’s names together. And as she gazed upon the garden, filled with frost-covered trees like a landscape blanketed in snow, she couldn’t help but feel even more suspicious.

Su Qing led them along a stone path. His little attendant maid had somehow hit it off with Xu Zheng, now chattering away beside him. Noticing Chen Shangqing among the trio, dressed in Penglai’s disciple robes, the maid couldn’t resist sharing the rumors: “This manor was built for the late Demon Empress, who’s said to have been a Penglai cultivator. Since the Domain Lord returned from Tianshu City months ago, she abruptly lost all memory of her. When she saw the Manor, she openly condemned its construction as a colossal waste—costly and senseless. Now she stays here only periodically, complaining about the extravagance.”

“But this is strange,” she added. “The Domain Lord once doted on this mysterious Demon Empress. How could she just… forget?”

“Hongxiu, shut your trap,” snapped Su Qing. “You’re prattling like a magpie.”

The maid fell silent as Su Qing scolded her, clamping her lips shut.

Xu Zheng still wanted to question the girl about the Demon Realm’s layout, but she kept her distance, refusing to utter another word.

Su Qing led the trio to the reception hall of Shuanghan Manor before leaving on his own, offering no clue about when the Demon Emperor might arrive.

Chen Shangqing and Xu Zheng, intrigued by the Demon Realm’s vistas, soared upward on their swords to the highest cliff bridge in Shuanghan Manor, taking in the sweeping panoramic view below.

After all, if the Demon Emperor did come, they’d spot him instantly from this vantage point.

Lin Qianshuang sat waiting on a rattan chair in the main hall. When Han Shengyao still hadn’t shown after so long, she stepped outside into the courtyard.

Shuanghan Manor was laid out exactly like the Penglai Immortal Sect. As Lin Qianshuang walked, the layout felt eerily familiar, like she’d stepped back into her old sect. She followed a stream toward the manor’s edge, the Cold Cicada Zither in her storage jade slip shifting restlessly, drawn by the thick spiritual energy in the air.

When she pulled the qin free, its seven strings trembled violently. The frost-veiled forest’s dense spiritual energy surged into the curved patterns along the qin’s side, while a faint silvery-blue soul cloud coalesced beneath the strings where her fingers touched. The crystal-white body of the qin suddenly plucked its own strings, emitting a resonant hum. Tadpoles in the clear stream swirled together, twisting into two wobbly characters.

Miss you.

Ordinary human cultivators couldn’t decipher them, but Lin understood instantly.

Has Xuan Luowan’s soul been restored? she wondered, heart lightening with the joy of reconnecting with an old friend. This happiness had nothing to do with the progress made on the fourth locked “target”—her mission from the Beast Emperor to revive Xuan Luowan. Yet instinctively, she resisted linking the friend who’d aided her in darkness with the cold, calculated label of “capture target.”

Lin Qianshuang found a flat stone by the stream and sat down, placing the Cold Cicada Zither on her lap. Leaning close, she addressed it softly, “Xuan Luowan, is that you? Has your soul stabilized? What more must I do to free you?”

Even without the system’s prompts, she knew the Beast Emperor’s mission wouldn’t be simple. Xuan Luowan’s revival demanded more than empty gestures.

The tadpoles in the stream scattered, then swirled together to form a single character.

Wait.

Next, three more words emerged on the water’s surface.

Tianshu Mirror.

The words Tianshu Mirror appeared only briefly, scattering the tadpoles like startled fish darting through the clear water.

Lin Qianshuang noticed another shadow in the rippling reflections—a patch of crimson that wasn’t hers.

She started to rise, but the red shape pinned her down. Turning, she saw Han Shengyao leaning over her Cold Cicada Zither, her slender fingers resting on her shoulder. His lazy smile held an unreadable edge as she drawled, “Where did you get this zither?”

Lin Qianshuang stared at her as if seeing a ghost, scrambling to clutch the instrument close. Her pulse raced—when had the Demon Realm’s Domain Lord crept up beside her?

Before she could retreat further, Han Shengyao’s hand pressed her back into place. Dark purple eyes slitted lazily as she murmured, “No need to bolt. My guards have you cornered. You’ll not escape now. And here you are—a little demon cultivator—trespassing into Shuanghan Manor’s Tingfeng Pavilion. Bold of you.”

She edged away, hugging the zither possessively. “D-Domain Lord! I’m an envoy from Tianshu City. I didn’t mean to intrude… please forgive my mistake.”

Han Shengyao released her shoulders, her lazy gaze raking over Lin Qianshuang as she drawled, “The Tianshu City Lord only ever sends Du Shuang to the Demon Realm. Your attire and bearing mirror the figure in my paintings too perfectly—you’re clearly up to something. Do you truly think I’d fall for such a flimsy lie?”

Master truly has forgotten me. Lin Qianshuang tightened her grip on the Cold Cicada Zither. There must be a deeper purpose behind this ruse. For now, distance is safest.

Especially with the Tianshu City Lord’s agents lurking nearby.

She’d always distrusted the City Lord’s ambition—it hadn’t been contained to Scattered Cultivation City. If my connection to the Domain Lord were exposed, it would endanger her and shatter my plans.

Han Shengyao slouched into a wicker chair beneath the frost tree, smirking as Lin remained silent. “A demon cultivator posing so prettily… commendable effort. Since I’m in a generous mood, why not play a tune for me? Might just spare your life if I’m amused.”

Lin stood her ground, chin high. As Tianshu’s envoy, playing the zither now would dishonor her city—and provoke the very target she needed to manipulate. Not even ten of me would dare that gamble.

She stared blankly toward the cliff bridge. Chen Shangqing and Xu Zheng stood so high, their search range so vast—she and Han Shengyao were only a short distance apart. Even a Foundation Establishment disciple should’ve noticed something by now.

Han Shengyao slouched back in the rattan chair, her purple eyes narrowing with menace as they locked onto Lin Qianshuang. “You plan to die here, or play your zither for my amusement? Remove that mask—I won’t kill a ghost I can’t even see properly.”

Lin Qianshuang tucked the Cold Cicada Zither into her storage jade slip just as Chen Shangqing and Xu Zheng arrived, announcing their identities.

Han Shengyao heard Chen’s words—and spotted the ignored Tianshu City badge hanging from Lin’s waist. A sly smile crept across her face. Her voice dropped, heavy with implication, “My mistake. So this is Tianshu’s envoy?”

“Su Qing.”

The Left Protector materialized instantly at Han Shengyao’s side.

“Present, my lord.”

Han Shengyao gestured for Su Qing to secure the confidential scrolls carried by Chen Shangqing and Xu Zheng before giving orders. “Settle these distant guests here. As for the girl—”

She turned, her violet gaze fixing on Lin Qianshuang among the trio. “What is your name?”

Singled out, Lin tilted her head, bemused, and replied, “Lord, my name is Jieyu.”

Han Shengyao studied her with narrowed purple eyes. “Jieyu. Since you’re sent by the City Lord, you must know hexagrams. Tonight, help me decipher the ancient texts within the Demon Emperor’s Seal.”

Lin blinked, flustered. She couldn’t even read a single character of the script. Asking her to interpret star patterns would be futile—and her malfunctioning “golden finger” system, half-repaired and useless, offered no aid.

She had assumed the Tianshu City envoy was just a figurehead ambassador, but who knew they also bore the responsibility of spying on celestial phenomena for the city?

Lin Qianshuang didn’t care that she knew nothing of astrology—she’d play charlatan if she had to. She blurted out, “Domain Lord, though my skills are meager, I’ll give it my all.”

Chen Shangqing and Xu Zheng exchanged startled glances at her boldness.

Han Shengyao departed after speaking, leaving half of Lin’s reply hanging in the air. When she looked up, the emptiness around her made her cheeks burn.

Xu Zheng hid a smirk at her flustered expression.

Chen Shangqing shot her a considering look, his brow slightly furrowed.

Su Qing smiled at them and said, “The Domain Lord has prepared a banquet in the Jiuchong Demon Palace, and Hongxiu will lead you there.”