Regardless of the outside gossip, Bai Maomao and Lang Junxian continued to leisurely enjoy their time together.
Ever since Bai Maomao had lost his temper that one time, the entire Lang Family treated him with even more respect, and their treatment had been upgraded to a whole new level.
The weather grew colder and colder, the biting wind chilling one’s bones.
Bai Maomao couldn’t stand it anymore and simply stopped going outside, staying indoors all day in a heated room.
With the heater on, Bai Maomao wore thin pajamas and walked barefoot back and forth on the carpet, his cheeks flushed from the warmth.
He held a wooden box in his hands, flipping it over and over.
“Who do you think sent this?”
“Open it and you’ll know,” Lang Junxian replied with a helpless sigh.
He opened the box and saw what was inside, then the sender would be clear.
“But this was sent to you.”
“What’s mine is yours,” Lang Junxian dismissed his words, “Just open it.”
Bai Maomao pouted and opened the box. Inside lay a red tail feather, its vibrant crimson like flowing flames.
The feather’s tip formed an eye-shaped pattern, adorned with rings of golden streaks.
“A Phoenix Feather?”
Bai Maomao exclaimed in surprise.
Lang Junxian was equally stunned.
He hadn’t expected the box to contain this.
“Who sent it?”
“I don’t know,” Bai Maomao shook his head.
“The Butler said the sender didn’t give a name and left quickly.”
“Call the Butler over and ask.”
The Butler arrived promptly.
Being an ordinary man, he was a bit nervous when Lang Junxian summoned him and faced the pressure of two high-level cultivators alone.
“Second Young Master, Young Master Bai, what are your orders?”
Lang Junxian scrutinized the Butler’s expression closely.
“Who sent this wooden box?”
“It was a young man, said he was your friend.”
The Butler relaxed hearing this and recounted everything in detail.
The man who delivered the box was very young, no older than thirty, dressed entirely in black.
He didn’t look ordinary.
What did he look like exactly?
The Butler racked his brain but suddenly realized he couldn’t recall the man’s face at all.
Cold sweat broke out on the Butler.
“Forgive me, Young Master. I…I can’t remember what he looked like.”
Lang Junxian and Bai Maomao exchanged a glance but said nothing, letting the frightened Butler leave first.
“Who do you think he was?”
“Hard to say,” Lang Junxian shook his head.
“Do you still remember the black phoenix we saw on Rain Marsh Mountain?”
“And the time at Huangquanzhuhai,” Bai Maomao added.
“Now this Phoenix Feather appears. Could it be related to the ancient Yaowang?”
Lang Junxian fell silent.
The Yaowang had long since vanished without a trace.
So, were the two phoenix visions they saw mere coincidences or something deliberately orchestrated?
And this Phoenix Feather—was it meant for him…or for Bai Maomao?
One mystery after another, but too few clues.
Perhaps they should ask Mother.
Meanwhile, Lang Junqi was at a tavern when he encountered someone—a young man dressed in black, smiling amiably.
Recently, Lang Junqi had been neglected by his father.
The major affairs of the Lang Family were handled by Lang Junxian.
Although Lang Juntian hadn’t officially declared his heir, everyone could see the likely candidate was Lang Junxian.
For decades, Lang Junqi had been groomed as the heir, managing the family’s affairs.
Though his talent was mediocre, he had decent management skills and had studied management in university.
Under his control, the Lang Family had never made any major mistakes.
His life had been smooth sailing all these years, but he never expected Lang Junxian’s return to snatch everything away.
Lang Junqi gritted his teeth and slammed his wine cup onto the floor.
If only his cultivation had advanced, he wouldn’t have ended up like this!
But now, there was nothing he could do.
He leaned back in his chair in despair.
“Second Young Master, no need to despair like this.”
The room was quiet.
Lang Junqi had asked his bodyguards to leave so he could be alone, but now there was suddenly someone else.
“Who are you?”
Lang Junqi asked warily.
The man in black curled his lips into a smile.
“Who I am doesn’t matter. Second Young Master, just know I can help you.”
“You can help me?”
Lang Junqi didn’t believe him, his eyes full of ridicule.
“How do you intend to help?”
The black-clad man kept his calm demeanor.
He took a porcelain bottle from his pocket and placed it on the table.
“Take this, and you’ll ascend to the Qi Refining to Harmonizing stage.”
Lang Junqi’s eyes widened as he unconsciously stepped forward.
“Why should I trust you?”
“Whether you trust me or not, why not just try?”
The man pushed the small bottle toward him, his smile filled with temptation.
“What’s your price?”
Lang Junqi stared at the bottle, gripping it tightly with both hands.
“Just a small favor from you,” the man said as he unscrewed the cap, releasing a strong medicinal fragrance.
“Care to try?”
Lang Junqi hesitated, not taking it.
The man smiled, capped the bottle, and placed it in his arms.
“Seems like you need time to think. This pill will be a gift for Young Master Bai. I’ll expect your good news in three days.”
Lang Junqi returned to his residence, restless.
Instead of going back to the Lang Family Estate, he went to another private home he owned in Shangjing.
He placed the porcelain bottle on his desk.
After much hesitation, he took the pill and went to see a trusted alchemist that very night.
This night was destined to be anything but peaceful.
Bai Maomao and Lang Junxian spent the entire night piecing together the events.
First, the mysterious intrusion into an isolated space on Rain Marsh Mountain, where they saw a black aura-shrouded phoenix and a pitch-black rift; then, during the field assessment, the Illusion Realm they saw at Huangquanzhuhai…including this time, a total of three occurrences.
“Not only that,” Bai Maomao suddenly said, “Do you remember the time we studied the Xuanjing Gui Stone? There was also a phoenix in the Illusion Realm. And another person…”
Bai Maomao frowned.
The memory was hazy, but he was certain the Illusion Realm and Huangquanzhuhai were somehow connected, especially with that song ‘Phoenix Seeking Phoenix.’
These events seemed unrelated but were secretly linked by a thin thread.
There had to be some detail they hadn’t yet discovered.
Bai Maomao was fixated on the phoenix, while Lang Junxian suddenly recalled something from an ancient text—the Yaowang Lihuo, who was originally paired with the Renhuang.
Lang Junxian murmured, “What was the Renhuang’s name again…”
“Xuanyuan!”
Bai Maomao’s eyes lit up.
“Renhuang Xuanyuan Shi! The person who appeared in the Illusion Realm was also named Xuanyuan.”
What was their relationship?
Or were they actually the same person?
Then, what role did the red-clothed man they played have in all this?
Bai Maomao was at a loss, feeling like there was a thread he desperately wanted to grasp but couldn’t.
He vaguely knew that if they could connect all these pieces, they would uncover the truth.
“The two tribes’ great war ended with Yaowang Lihuo’s death, but what about Xuanyuan Shi?”
“There are many records about that war. The Yaowang’s fate is clear, but the victor Xuanyuan Shi’s story is rarely mentioned.”
Lang Junxian slowly spoke his thoughts.
“Maybe we should start with Xuanyuan Shi.”
Bai Maomao agreed.
They searched the Chongshu Pavilion for three whole days but found no records of Xuanyuan Shi.
Praises for the victors were abundant, but any record of Xuanyuan Shi seemed deliberately erased.
Only a semi-historical tale mentioned that Lihuo and Xuanyuan Shi were once Dao Companions.
Xuanyuan Shi coveted the riches of the Southwestern Great Marsh and betrayed Lihuo, leading over a thousand human cultivators to invade the Yao’s forbidden lands, slaughtering the Yao almost to extinction.
In anger, Lihuo self-destructed his Yao pill.
The Phoenix True Fire scorched the Southwestern Great Marsh.
The humans returned victorious, sealing the Yao who failed to escape in the Hundun Zhidi.
After the war, Xuanyuan Shi went into seclusion, and no further records were found.
Bai Maomao read the few words in the tale and felt inexplicably troubled.
“Do you think Xuanyuan Shi could still be alive?”
Lang Junxian shook his head.
“That war was a thousand years ago. If he were alive, the Heavenly Dao would not have let him remain. Now, spiritual energy is thin in the world. Even the most gifted cultivators can only reach the Qi Refining Harmonizing stage with a lifespan of eight hundred years. Beyond that, the realm is beyond what this world can support. If one forces further advancement, the result is either shattering into the void or being erased by the Heavenly Dao. No exceptions.”
The alchemist Lang Junqi consulted studied the pill for seven days.
He concluded that the pill was non-toxic and indeed helped improve cultivation, but without anyone trying it firsthand, the exact effects were uncertain.