A cacophony of indistinct voices rose around him.
The murmurs seemed to drift in and out, now near, now far as though countless people surrounded him, whispering secrets to one another.
Or perhaps it was a crowd pressing in, countless eyes fixed upon him, countless mouths moving soundlessly, calling his name…
Mu Congyun felt his heart constrict violently. Just as he was on the verge of suffocation, his eyes flew open-
The voices that had been hovering at the edges of his consciousness receded like a tide.
Tense, Mu Congyun scanned his surroundings, only relaxing when he confirmed he was alone in the room.
He exhaled slowly.
Just a dream.
Wiping the cold sweat from his forehead, he sat cross-legged to meditate and calm his mind.
Ever since transmigrating to this world and being taken in by his master at Xuanling Sect, he had lived a secluded life cultivating at Moonlight Hidden Heron Peak.
It had been years since he last experienced that suffocating feeling of being surrounded by people.
This terrible dream dredged up long-buried memories from before his transmigration-dust-covered recollections morphing into blurred faces that encircled him, their lips moving to release shrill, piercing voices:
“He never says a word. Is he mute or something?”
“That lifeless expression of his is downright depressing.”
“Handsome face, but clearly something wrong with his head.”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but if you’re sick you should get treated. Don’t refuse treatment out of fear of doctors.”
The receding tide surged back, plunging him into an icy abyss where unseen currents dragged him deeper…
He hurriedly cleared his mind, steadying his thoughts as he cycled through his cultivation techniques.
After fifteen minutes, his turbulent emotions settled, though his forehead remained damp with sweat.
With a casual wave of his hand, an oval water mirror materialized in the air-its surface smooth and flawless, reflecting every detail.
Mu Congyun adjusted his appearance in the mirror.
The reflection showed a figure in immaculate white robes, ink-black hair half-bound by a white jade lotus crown, half cascading down his back.
A few loose strands fell across his chest, lightly brushing against porcelain-pale cheeks that accentuated his delicate features.
He had been ten when his soul entered this body.
Now twenty, his appearance remained identical to his previous life.
Yet as those people had said, even the most attractive face became off-putting when perpetually frozen in expressionless stillness. Mu Congyun attempted a smile at his reflection.
The young man in the mirror responded with a stiff grin.
Attempt number 3,285: failure.
Pursing his lips in resignation, he let his expression go blank again.
Dispelling the water mirror with a flick of his sleeve, he went to meet his fellow disciples.
The old wooden door creaked shrilly as it opened.
Despite it being midsummer at sunrise, no sunlight penetrated the thick gray haze blanketing the sky.
Thin wisps of gray mist drifted through the air, enveloping the entire farmhouse. Even the lush old tree in the courtyard appeared gloomy and withered.
Passing through the cramped front yard and crossing the main gate revealed a narrow brick path-barely wide enough for three people— that curved forward.
Houses lined both sides haphazardly, with broken water vats, winnowing baskets and other discarded items piled carelessly along the roadside by nearby residents.
This was an utterly ordinary rural scene, yet the entire Nanhuai Town was now shrouded in gray mist, eerily silent without even the crow of a rooster or the bark of a dog, creating an indescribable sense of strangeness.
But Mu Congyun had always been allergic to people. Such a quiet, deserted environment instead made him feel safe and relaxed, his very footsteps exuding ease down to the strands of his hair.
It wasn’t until he reached a nearby house that he tensed again, raising his hand to knock.
The abrupt “thud thud” of knocking shattered the silence.
The quiet street seemed to come alive in an instant, with faint creaking sounds emerging from all directions, followed by numerous hidden gazes settling on Mu Congyun’s back.
The homeowner took an eternity to answer, and there was no response to the message he’d sent to his junior brother Jin Ni.
The prickling sensation of being watched made it hard for Mu Congyun to breathe, though outwardly he remained expressionless as he raised his hand and knocked again—”thud thud thud.”
Finally, the door opened.
An old woman in coarse gray-blue clothing cautiously cracked the door just enough for one eye to peer through, her gruff voice thick with wariness and impatience:
“What do you want?”
Mu Congyun: “…”
They had only been in Nanhuai Town for three days. On the first day while searching for lodging, this very same old woman had warmly welcomed their group into her home with great hospitality, though her limited space had forced them to split up among three households.
Yet just two days later, the old woman now wore an unwelcoming, frosty expression.
How fickle, Mu Congyun thought to himself.
He shifted slightly to stand directly in the door’s gap so she could see him clearly before stating simply, “I’m here for my junior brother.”
To his surprise, the moment the old woman got a proper look at him, she gasped as if seeing a ghost: “You’re still here?”
“?”
That phrasing… sounded almost like she was asking why he was still alive.
Mu Congyun slowly furrowed his brows, sensing something off about her words.
But he wasn’t one for verbal sparring, so he merely repeated, “I’m here for my junior brother.”
The stares boring into his back were making him increasingly agitated.
He badly wanted to turn and leave, but reason kept him rooted in place, waiting for the old woman to let him in.
Yet his frown and restrained demeanor only reinforced the old woman’s strange reaction.
Not daring to scrutinize him further, she reluctantly opened the door, offering a sheepish explanation:
“The immortal masters all went to the back mountain early this morning. I thought you’d gone with them.”
The back mountain?
Nanhuai’s back mountain was an ancient forest so dense it blotted out the sky.
They had already investigated it thoroughly on their second day in town and found nothing unusual.
Why would Jin Ni suddenly go back there?
Something wasn’t right. A chill ran down Mu Congyun’s spine-if Jin Ni had discovered anything, he would never have acted without informing him first.
The investigation into Nanhuai’s anomalies was being led by Mu Congyun and his junior brother Jin Ni.
A month ago, anomalies had appeared in the Corrosive Mist Sea, causing breaches in the Decalogue Barrier.
The corrosive mist invaded villages along the western border, triggering strange transformations.
Upon hearing the news, major sects dispatched nearby disciples to handle the anomalies and aid the civilians.
As the foremost Daoist sect and the largest in the western region, Xuanling took responsibility for relief efforts along the borders of Central and Eastern Provinces.
Originally, the Southern Locust Town incident was assigned to Su Ming, an inner disciple of the Golden Treasury Palace—one of the Nine Palaces of Xuanling.
However, after arriving in the town, Su Ming and his team lost contact, and the soul flames they left at the Golden Treasury Palace gradually dimmed.
Subsequently, the palace dispatched two more groups totaling sixteen disciples to investigate, but all vanished without a trace.
As the situation grew increasingly dire, the matter was transferred to the Celestial Mechanism Palace, with Mu Congyun and his junior disciple Jin Ni leading the investigation.
Today marked their third day in Southern Locust Town.
Over the past two days, they had scoured every corner of the town but found no trace of the missing Xuanling disciples.
When they questioned the townsfolk, most either shook their heads in ignorance or shut their doors, treating them like harbingers of disaster, unwilling to speak.
Had it not been for a few households willing to take them in, they would have been forced to camp in the wilderness.
But now, Mu Congyun found the old woman’s sudden hospitality suspicious.
Suspicious that something had gone wrong, he wasted no more time on her and strode past her toward the guest quarters where Jin Ni and the others had stayed—only to find them empty, devoid of any traces.
He hurried to another household where they had lodged, but again found nothing.
The host’s explanation was identical to the old woman’s: the group had gone to the back mountain.
What could possibly be amiss in the back mountain?
Suppressing his unease, Mu Congyun immediately set off in that direction.
Along the way, he felt countless eyes watching him, hastening his steps.
The back mountain was only about two li from the town.
Arriving swiftly by sword, Mu Congyun hesitated before entering, pondering the truth behind the old woman’s words.
Though the townsfolk behaved strangely, they were undeniably ordinary people.
Jin Ni, despite his usual lax cultivation, had already reached the peak of the Transcendent Shell Realm, just a step away from the Forgetful Dust Realm.
These common folk posed no threat to him.
But that didn’t mean the old woman’s words were entirely truthful.
The previous two groups of Golden Treasury Palace disciples had similarly vanished without warning.
Now, Jin Ni’s group had disappeared just as abruptly-proof enough that the town was hiding something.
Hovering midair on his sword, Mu Congyun scanned the dense forest below but detected nothing unusual.
Sheathing his blade, he cautiously stepped forward.
Yet the moment his foot crossed the boundary, his entire body stiffened.
A chilling sensation crawled up his scalp, forcing him to recoil in alarm.
In that instant, he felt countless eyes turning toward him.
It was as though the trees before him were not trees at all, but people—standing motionless until he approached, then silently watching him.
The sensation was horrifying.
He would rather battle living corpses or demons than endure the scrutiny of so many unseen “gazers.”
The wind rustled gently through the leaves, the scenery serene, the air fresh-yet Mu Congyun’s skin prickled, his breath tight.
He wanted nothing more than to turn and leave.
But after an internal struggle, duty to his sectmates overcame fear.