Lai Li’an felt cold sweat trickle down his back. At least the man wasn’t here to arrest him. With the crowd this thick and the distance this far, Yin Wuji shouldn’t be able to recognize him.
But the mere fact that Yin Wuji was here was enough to shatter his otherwise pleasant mood.
Why was an elder of the Blood Lotus Sect standing together with a disciple of the Wuyue Sect?
This Alchemy Grand Assembly was probably not going to be peaceful.
He stood on the steps, watching Yin Wuji and Shao Jiao’s figures disappear into the crowd, a bad feeling churning in his gut.
But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. He had more important things to do—first find Meng Qiuran and secure his judge qualification.
The problem was, he didn’t even know where the judges were supposed to report.
‘Damn it, Meng Qiuran. You said you’d roll out the red carpet for me, so where the hell are you? I can’t even catch a glimpse of you.’
Lai Li’an circled the plaza twice and asked a few cultivators who looked like staff. The first two simply took him for a rogue cultivator trying to sneak into a restricted area and waved him off impatiently.
The third was more polite. He pointed to the Vermilion Tower at the highest point.
“The judges should all be there, Fellow Daoist. But that area has dedicated guards—ordinary people can’t get in.”
Lai Li’an thanked him, straightened his robes, and headed toward the Vermilion Tower.
Sure enough, two guards stood in front of the tower, one on each side, both at the Late Foundation Building Stage. Magical swords hung at their waists. When they saw him approach, they raised their hands to block his way.
“This is the judges’ restricted area. No trespassing.”
Lai Li’an wasn’t offended. He said calmly, “Venerable Self has been invited to serve as a judge for this assembly and has come to report.”
The two guards exchanged a glance.
“Invited? Does Fellow Daoist have an invitation letter?”
Lai Li’an paused. Meng Qiuran had indeed invited him, but he had only been given a jade slip recording the time and location—no formal letter.
“No invitation letter,” Lai Li’an said truthfully. “But Junior Meng of the Dan Sect Branch, Meng Qiuran, personally invited Venerable Self.”
The left guard’s brow furrowed even tighter.
“Invited by Senior Brother Meng? Fellow Daoist, we’ve already turned away seven or eight rogue cultivators trying to sneak in over the past few days, but this is the first time we’ve heard an excuse like this. If you can’t produce an invitation letter, please leave.”
The right guard was even less polite. He sneered.
“What status does Senior Brother Meng hold? Would he personally invite you? Fellow Daoist, we don’t mean to look down on anyone, but everyone sitting on the judges’ panel is a renowned Dao Alchemy Grandmaster in the Cangwu Realm. You… hiding half your face, not even daring to show your true appearance—how can we trust you?”
Lai Li’an suddenly remembered he was still wearing the mask. He hesitated for a moment, then removed it, revealing a clean, handsome face.
The two guards stared at his face with no change in expression. Clearly, they didn’t recognize him.
“Taking off the mask won’t help,” the right guard said, crossing his arms. “No invitation letter means no entry. If Fellow Daoist truly was personally invited by Senior Brother Meng, why not send him a voice transmission right now? If he replies to confirm, we’ll naturally let you in.”
Lai Li’an’s expression stiffened slightly.
He didn’t know any voice transmission technique. He couldn’t even send one to Meng Qiuran—he had no idea where the man was at the moment.
“Venerable Self did not keep his transmission imprint,” Lai Li’an said without changing his expression. “Why don’t you find Fellow Daoist Meng and verify it yourselves?”
The suspicion on the two guards’ faces deepened. The right one scoffed.
“We don’t know where Senior Brother Meng is either. And you didn’t even keep his transmission imprint, yet you claim he personally invited you? Fellow Daoist, that lie is awfully flimsy.”
“Enough, enough. Hurry up and leave,” the left guard said impatiently, waving his hand. “The assembly is about to start. We don’t have time to waste on you.”
Lai Li’an stood at the entrance, unable to advance or retreat. In all his years of pretending to be a great master, this was the first time he’d been blocked at the door by a pair of gate guards—and couldn’t even get in.
As they were locked in a standoff, a voice came from behind him.
“What’s going on?”
Lai Li’an turned around and saw an old man climbing the steps. The elder had graying hair and a gaunt face, but his eyes gleamed with restrained sharpness.
It was Elder Sun.
Lai Li’an’s heart jolted. This was the same Elder Sun who had presided over his trial in the Public Trial Hall.
Elder Sun approached. His gaze landed on Lai Li’an’s face, and he paused slightly. He clearly recognized that face.
“Elder Sun,” the left guard quickly clasped his fist in salute. “This man claims to have been invited by Senior Brother Meng to serve as a judge, but he has no invitation letter. I was about to—”
“Fellow Daoist Lai?” Elder Sun interrupted him, a hint of surprise in his tone. “You’re here for the assembly too?”
Lai Li’an inwardly groaned, but kept his face calm as still water. He cupped his hands toward Elder Sun.
“Elder Sun, we meet again. Venerable Self was indeed invited by Junior Meng to serve as a judge. However, Junior Meng only gave the time and location back then, and left no formal invitation letter. That was my oversight.”
Elder Sun raised an eyebrow at that.
This fellow surnamed Lai—a judge?
His impression of Lai Li’an was still stuck in the Public Trial Hall: a rogue cultivator who had been completely fooled by a con man and had nearly been branded a thief.
Though it had turned out that Qian Fu was indeed a swindler, Fellow Daoist Lai hadn’t exactly shown great acumen during the whole affair. If Meng Qiuran hadn’t stepped in with five thousand spirit stones to bail him out, he might have been eating prison rations for a few days.
A man like that could be a judge at the Alchemy Grand Assembly?
Elder Sun pondered for a moment, but his words weren’t particularly polite.
“Fellow Daoist Lai, the judges for this assembly are all renowned Dao Alchemy Grandmasters of the Cangwu Realm. Although you… well, have an extraordinary bearing, to be honest, your name is hardly known in the Cangwu Realm. Without confirmation from Junior Meng, I dare not let you through casually.”
Lai Li’an caught the subtext. He laughed bitterly inside. In the cultivation world, he was indeed a nobody. The only time he had “made a name” was when he was arrested as a thief and dragged into the Enforcement Hall.
Just as Lai Li’an was racking his brain for a plausible background, a lazy voice drifted down from the stairs.
“What’s all the racket? It’s early in the morning. Can’t a man get some rest?”
A man who looked about thirty came down the stairs. He wore a dark purple brocade robe. His narrow, phoenix-like eyes were half-lidded as if he hadn’t woken up yet, and the teardrop mole at the corner of his eye was particularly striking in the dim hallway.
The moment this man appeared, the two guards immediately stood at attention, even more respectful than they had been toward Elder Sun.
“Greetings, Elder Pei.”
Elder Sun also gave a slight nod with a note of respect.
“Alchemist Pei, you’re up early today.”
Pei Changjing, Elder of the Dan Sect Branch, sixth-rank alchemist. He lazily leaned against the stair railing, his gaze sweeping across the group before settling on Lai Li’an.
“And this is?”
Elder Sun explained, “This Fellow Daoist Lai claims to have been invited by Junior Meng to serve as a judge, but he has no invitation letter. I was just verifying.”
Pei Changjing raised an eyebrow, a glint of interest appearing in his sleepy eyes.
“Oh? That brat Meng Qiuran personally invited him?”