Chapter 4: Since We’re Calling Each Other Brothers, What More Is There to Say?

In the imperial guard camp, Zhang Jingfeng stood proudly on the command platform, watching the soldiers below sit cross-legged, frantically absorbing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth. His heart burned with boundless ambition.
“Just a bit more, just a little more…”
Feeling the spiritual energy gradually filling his body, Zhang Jingfeng was on the verge of breaking through to the Foundation Establishment stage, just one step away.

The emergence of the Qi Introduction Record naturally caused a phenomenon in the heavens and earth—though it was man-made.
Ordinary people might only feel the air growing slightly drier, but to cultivators, the terrifying vortex of spiritual energy was impossible to ignore.
In Anyang City, an unremarkable middle-aged man suddenly halted, his gaze shimmering as he stared at the spiritual storm not far off.
“That’s the direction of the imperial guard camp. So much spiritual energy gathering in one place—something’s definitely amiss.”

The middle-aged man swiftly left the area, covering several miles in a few strides. When he reappeared, he was in a room at an inn where six others awaited.
Seeing him, one of them hurriedly asked:
“Elder Tao Han, what’s happening at the imperial guard camp? Why is there such intense spiritual fluctuation?”
Tao Han glanced at the speaker and retorted:
“Doesn’t your Huanling Sect claim ‘no one understands spiritual energy better than us’? Can’t you tell what’s going on out there?”
“Uh…”
The man gave an awkward chuckle, responding unhurriedly:
“Of course I know. There are only two possible causes: either a spirit-gathering array or a large number of cultivators practicing together in one place, each absorbing spiritual energy with high efficiency.”

The other five nodded in agreement. With the Huanling Sect’s member setting the tone, everyone’s tongues loosened.
“Our Chiyan Sect also has a spirit-gathering array, but the spiritual storm it creates is nowhere near as intense as what’s happening outside.”
“That’s exactly what worries us. Baihe City was supposed to be ours for the taking, but today’s phenomenon is coming from the imperial guard camp. This isn’t good news for us.”

Tao Han didn’t deny it. They all knew this clearly, and he only hoped Emperor Dingwu had stumbled upon some lucky break, like acquiring a spirit-gathering array.
If it was the latter case—a new cultivation technique—things would be far more serious. It meant Emperor Dingwu held an unknown method, greatly increasing uncertainty.
A spirit-gathering array could be destroyed, but a cultivation technique? They had no counter for that.

Suddenly, the most inconspicuous of the seven, a short figure wrapped entirely in a black robe reeking of mold, stepped forward. His presence always left an empty space around him.
“Emperor Dingwu visited the National Teacher’s residence and returned in high spirits. He obtained a cultivation technique from the National Teacher and passed it to the imperial guard commander, Zhang Jingfeng.”
At these words, all eyes turned to him.

Tao Han spoke first:
“As expected of the Xuehun Sect. Your bugs are hidden deep.”
“Jie jie jie…”
The Xuehun Sect member’s eerie laughter sent chills through the room, and the others subtly distanced themselves from him as his creepy voice sounded again:
“The Liu Han royal family are all mortals now, and the few cultivators they have are no match for the Xuehun Sect. Times have changed. Mortals can only be slaves or fodder—how can they be emperors?”

Tao Han’s eyes filled with wariness, but bound by their unbreakable alliance, he could only cooperate with the Xuehun Sect for now. Once Baihe City was theirs, he’d keep them as far away as possible.
After a brief silence, the Huanling Sect member made a suggestion:
“Why don’t we head to the imperial guard camp and stop those mortals from absorbing spiritual energy? Crush them before they reach the Qi Refining stage.”
“Sounds good. Our Chiyan Sect loves dealing with old friends.”
“Whatever, I’m fine with anything.”

Tao Han looked at the idea guy, then at the action faction, and finally at the majority who were indifferent. Ignoring the mysterious figure beside him, he shook his head decisively under their surprised gazes.
“Not feasible. Killing one batch of guards won’t help. The emperor still holds the technique—eliminate one, and another will take their place.”
The mysterious figure’s eerie voice filled the room again:
“What’s your brilliant plan, Elder Tao?”
“Capture the leader to defeat the thieves.”

Tao Han’s words were resolute:
“All of this points to the National Teacher’s residence. As we all know, the current Great Han National Teacher rarely appears, and the royal family is secretive about them. There’s no denying that two hundred years ago, the National Teacher helped the founding emperor sweep the six regions, showing immense strength—but that was nearly three hundred years ago.”

His words plunged the room into contemplation as they weighed the feasibility of this plan.
Seeing their reaction, Tao Han pressed his advantage:
“Brothers, we’re at a critical juncture. It’s confirmed that a rare treasure will soon appear in Baihe City. With spiritual energy growing denser, we must seize the initiative. We don’t need an emperor who’s a fellow cultivator—we need a puppet emperor!”

His words struck a chord, hitting their deepest desires. The burly man from the Chiyan Sect was the first to respond:
“Elder Tao’s calling us brothers, so what more is there to say? The National Teacher is yours!”
The Huanling Sect member quickly followed:
“Everyone here is at the Golden Core stage, and Elder Tao is at the peak of Golden Core, half a step from Nascent Soul. Even if the Great Han National Teacher is formidable, they’re just one person. Seven against one—the advantage is ours!”
The Xuehun Sect member gave a mysterious nod.

Seeing the consensus, Tao Han decided to act immediately, while sending a secret order to his sect: once they succeeded, the Jingwu Sect must secure the prime territory in Baihe City and never let it fall to others—especially the Xuehun Sect.
After the discussion, the seven left the room and began their preparations.

Time passed slowly. The moon’s gentle glow replaced the sun’s harshness, and the bustling capital fell silent, with only the patrol teams and the night watchman’s gong echoing through the streets.
Tao Han saw the seven again in a woodshed near the National Teacher’s residence.
His gaze swept over familiar faces, then suddenly froze:
“Where’s the Xuehun Sect? Didn’t they come?”
As soon as he spoke, the tightly shut wooden door creaked open. Tao Han was about to act when a woman’s voice rang out:
“How could the Xuehun Sect miss something like this?”

Tao Han’s eyes narrowed. Outside stood a woman dressed as a peasant, her exposed skin crawling with red veins that converged at her blood-red eyes.
“You’re a woman?”
“Jie jie jie… In the Xuehun Sect, gender is the least important thing. This is my finest puppet, here to assist you.”
Seeing her evade the question, Tao Han didn’t press, only sneering:
“They say the Xuehun Sect is like rats in the fields. It seems they weren’t wrong.”
The woman didn’t respond, only squinting with a faint smile.
“Let’s move. This concubine can’t wait any longer.”

…
At the National Teacher’s residence, Baizhu reclined on a chaise lounge, occasionally picking up a grape from the table with her slender fingers and slowly bringing it to her mouth.
Her bare jade feet swayed unconsciously.
Carved as if from mutton-fat jade, her delicate ankles and smooth soles gleamed, her ten round toes curling slightly like pearls.
Her hand, holding a grape, paused in midair.
Baizhu glanced toward the gate and sighed helplessly:
“Alas, it’s so late, and they still come to disturb me. Can’t they pick a more suitable time to visit?”

As the host, Baizhu believed proper etiquette was necessary. She had to make her guests feel valued.
So, she pulled out a black banner.