The sun hung high in the sky, casting golden light over the courtyard. With the day still young, Ye Xian decided it was the perfect time to practice the second stage of the Shrouded Aura and Triad Illusion Manual.
He closed his eyes, recalling the intricate diagrams and instructions stored in his memory. Slowly, he began to guide his ki through the 108 ki entrances, aligning them precisely as the manual described.
On his first attempt, something incredible happened—his form split. One remained his real body, while the other became an illusion.
However, the illusion only lasted for a fleeting moment before it dissipated into thin air.
Surprisingly, Ye Xian wasn't discouraged. On the contrary, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
For a first attempt, even reaching this stage was already remarkable. The illusion had looked identical to him—down to the smallest detail.
Encouraged, he continued his practice with focused determination.
After numerous tries, sweat dampening his robes, Ye Xian finally succeeded in maintaining the illusion for two to three seconds. It wasn't long—but it was progress.
More importantly, when he observed the illusion using his spiritual perception, he discovered something astounding: the illusion emitted the exact same aura as his true self.
In the cultivation world, aura was often the truest identifier. Even if one used masks or disguise techniques, their aura would betray them—unless they possessed high-level concealment artifacts or techniques.
But this illusion... it replicated even that.
"This technique could save my life in a deadly encounter," Ye Xian thought with a flicker of excitement.
He began testing the movement mechanics. When he stepped to the left, the illusion moved to the right. When he raised a hand, it mirrored him perfectly. This inverse synchronization created a strange, disorienting visual—one that would surely confuse any opponent in battle.
The afternoon faded into evening as he practiced relentlessly, refining every motion, every flicker of ki, until the illusion could hold for up to ten breaths. Though he could only split into two forms for now, the manual hinted that mastery would allow for three fully independent illusions—a goal he was now eager to reach.
Exhausted but satisfied, Ye Xian finally let out a long breath and sat down beneath a tree, cooling his body with steady, meditative breaths.
Inside Ye Xian's inner world, Aureliana quietly watched him train. Her golden eyes showed a hint of surprise. She hadn't expected him to learn so quickly. Even Adler, a proud genius of the past, had taken an entire month just to split his illusion for a single breath before it faded. Yet Ye Xian had already formed a clear illusion on his first day.
"Interesting…" she muttered softly to herself.
But Ye Xian didn't know she was watching. Focused and calm, he didn't let success get to his head. He understood one simple truth: being too proud could lead to a painful fall. Overconfidence could be more dangerous than any enemy.
Then, his thoughts drifted—unbidden—to Sheng Qianying.
He hadn't seen her since the unsettling visit this morning, when the Meng Clan had come to announce his betrothal to Meng Xueqing.
'I should check on her.' He thought.
He made his way to her residence through the winding paths of the estate. The orange glow of the setting sun warmed the tiled rooftops, casting long shadows.
However, when he arrived, a soft-spoken maid bowed and informed him, "Young Mistress Sheng has entered closed-door cultivation and is not receiving any visitors."
Ye Xian stood in silence for a moment, his thoughts swirling.
'Could she be upset or angry about my engagement to Meng Xueqing? But... she already knew about it. Then again, is she really in closed-door cultivation?'
He chuckled to himself. 'Why am I being so self-absorbed?'
Shaking his head, Ye Xian decided to leave and visit her tomorrow. He took a quiet stroll around the estate before finally returning to his room.
Night descended upon Azure Sky City, casting a silver glow as the moon floated on a dark, shimmering sky.
Within the Lu Clan Estate, in a dimly lit room, four figures were present. A young man, around twenty years old, sat at a round table, enjoying bowls of steaming traditional Chinese noodles topped with slices of meat. Seated beside him was a person dressed in robes and wearing a mask.
Standing behind them was a middle-aged man with sharp, eagle-like eyes, staring coldly at the fourth figure in the room—Di Wi, a trembling servant from the Ye Clan.
Di Wi knelt on the floor, his face streaked with tears and snot as he repeatedly slammed his forehead onto the ground in a desperate plea.
"Forgive me, Young Master Lu! I—I failed the task you gave me," he sobbed. "But I swear, I never mentioned your name! Please… have mercy…"
Lu Aotian, the young man at the table, sneered in disgust.
"Mercy?"
He scoffed, his expression turning icy.
"Without me, you'd already be rotting in prison. And now, not only did you fail, but you let them trace it back to me?"
Di Wi's voice trembled as he tried to explain. "Young Master Lu, I had no choice! They caught me and demanded to know who was behind the plan… I—I said it was a young master from the Lu Clan. Your champion told me to speak if I had no way out!"
His terrified eyes flicked toward the masked figure beside Lu Aotian. Though the robe was loose, it was clear from her figure that she was a woman.
"You idiot!" Lu Aotian shouted, slamming his palm onto the table, causing the bowls of noodles to rattle.
Di Wi whimpered and lunged forward, grabbing Lu Aotian's leg desperately.
"Young Master, please! I beg you!"
In his panic, he bumped the table, and one of the bowls tipped over, spilling broth, noodles, and meat onto the wooden surface.
Lu Aotian's face twisted in fury. His patience had run out.
"Kill him," he ordered coldly.
Di Wi's eyes went wide with terror. He jumped up and ran for the door, gasping, his heart pounding. Just as his hand touched the handle, a cold presence appeared behind him.
The middle-aged man behind Lu Aotian vanished in a blur. In an instant, a shadow streaked across the room.
Before Di Wi could react, a hand clamped around his throat and lifted him off the floor. He kicked and clawed at the iron grip, choking.
"Pl–please…" he gasped, barely audible.
The assassin's expression remained blank, emotionless. Then, with a twist, a sharp crack echoed through the room.
Di Wi's body went limp. His neck had been snapped like a twig.
The assassin released him, and the corpse crumpled to the floor.
Lu Aotian leaned back in his chair, exhaling in annoyance as he watched.
"Clean it up," he said flatly.
The masked figure beside him chuckled softly.
"Harsh," the voice murmured, androgynous and unreadable. "But necessary."
Lu Aotian smirked. "Only the useful deserve to live."
As Di Wi's body was dragged away, the masked person spoke again in a calm, thoughtful tone.
"Don't worry. They won't think you're the mastermind," the figure said. "They'll suspect your older brother."
Lu Aotian narrowed his eyes. "Why?" he asked.
The masked figure leaned in slightly, amusement in their voice.
"Because your older brother, Lu Yin, crippled the Ye Clan Patriarch's only son. As a result, he was disqualified from the competition and even swore publicly that he wouldn't let the Ye Clan go unpunished. It's only natural that people would suspect him."
Lu Aotian chuckled, tapping his fingers on the table. "You're clever." His smile faded. "But I have a bigger concern. I can't let that trash Ye Xian marry her. How could a worthless piece of scum deserve such a rare gem?"