At high noon, the sun baked the leaves until they curled, and the cicadas droned their long, screeching calls, layering an extra coat of agitation onto the stifling heat. Inside the spacious carriage, He Yiming, seated opposite Shui Xuanjin, glanced out the window. It was during the New Year period that he had been ordered to accompany his elder uncle to the Jinlin Yuan family estate; that time was still deep winter, with heavy snow falling relentlessly. But now, months had flashed by, and the weather had turned sweltering hot. Half a year seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.

He turned his head to look at Shui Xuanjin across from him. This elder had long accepted that his lifespan was limited, yet emanating from him was absolutely no sense of despair or dejection. If it weren't for the instincts afforded him as a Xiantian realm master confirming the fact, he simply would not have believed that the body of this lively and cheerful old man appeared to be decaying at such an alarming rate. As if sensing He Yiming's gaze, Shui Xuanjin opened his eyes, which had been closed in repose, and chuckled, "Brother He, I am just an old man nearing the grave, not some maiden of peerless beauty. Why are you staring at me so?" As he spoke, the elder even blinked twice, a look of good-natured teasing glinting in his eyes.

Although the two had only met a handful of times, their acquaintance barely spanning three days, for some unknown reason, they found themselves quite congenial. Perhaps this was because Shui Xuanjin, knowing his time was short, had cast off all reservations, whereas He Yiming’s own feelings were far more complex. But one thing was certain: he held a genuine affection for this old man.

Hearing the elder's playful jibe, He Yiming was suddenly reminded of the scene in the study yesterday. His face flushed slightly. "Brother Shui, how did you know?" His mind was filled with surprise. With his cultivation and strength, he had failed to notice this elder—that seemed almost impossible.

Shui Xuanjin let out a hearty laugh, and his normally nimble ears suddenly twitched. These ears seemed to come alive, slowly extending until they reached the same size as when He Yiming first saw him. If an ordinary person witnessed this sight, their first reaction would undoubtedly be that they had encountered a monster. If a contemporary from the twenty-first century had been transmigrated here, they too would surely believe the old man before them was a pig demon in disguise. But He Yiming knew the truth: the reason the elder could achieve such a shocking feat was simply that he had cultivated the innate divine art, Shunfeng Er (Wind-Following Ear), to its absolute peak.

Even ordinary people experience subtle contractions and extensions in their ears when enraged and yelling, but Xiantian realm masters have even greater control; they can command every single part of their bodies. It was similar to how He Yiming, after cultivating the Huagu Shu (Bone-Melting Art), could only manage to extend one head at the Houtian realm, but upon reaching the Xiantian realm, forget one head, even two heads presented no problem. Since Shunfeng Er itself was a Xiantian-level technique, it was hardly an exaggeration for the ears to swell somewhat prominently when the art was mastered to perfection.

Watching these ears move without any breeze, He Yiming suddenly understood, "Shunfeng Er?" Shui Xuanjin roared with laughter, a sound brimming with inexpressible delight. "Brother He, while Shunfeng Er has limited use in actual combat, it is nonetheless a Xiantian technique. If one cannot even detect such a small disturbance, how could it possibly be listed among the Xiantian techniques?"

He Yiming's expression darkened slightly. "You were spying on me?" Shui Xuanjin waved his hands repeatedly. "I was merely practicing my daily cultivation when I suddenly heard a slight sound. How could I possibly be specifically monitoring you?" His tone was frank and open, and his gaze was as clear as water, utterly lacking the murky confusion common to old men.

He Yiming nodded slightly. For some inexplicable reason, he believed the elder’s words. Though there was no evidence, he simply believed him. However, looking at those ears, He Yiming felt an intense surge of envy. He made a firm resolution: upon returning today, he absolutely must learn this technique. As if perceiving He Yiming's thoughts, Shui Xuanjin sighed softly. "Brother He, I know you wish to learn this technique, but this art is not like the Five Elements Force. Without a constitution naturally suited to cultivating Wind-element techniques, I fear that no matter how hard you try, grasping its essence will remain elusive."

A subtle, profound smile played on He Yiming's lips. "I understand, thank you for your guidance, Brother Shui." Shui Xuanjin shook his head. He could clearly see that He Yiming hadn't truly given up, but letting him hit a snag now might be beneficial. Only after suffering a setback would one truly internalize the lesson.

The carriage finally slowed to a halt; they had left Shaoming Residence and entered the territory of the Tianluo Kingdom's royal domain. Stepping down from the carriage, He Yiming’s gaze swept around, inwardly marveling that the power of the Tianluo Kingdom indeed seemed to surpass that of the Huowu Kingdom. Before them, the palace built of red bricks stood towering, with white stone steps splitting to the left and right. In the center was a colossal dragon carved into the steps, exuding an aura of solemn majesty. Waiting before the carriage was the Crown Prince, Yu Xiaoyi, himself.

In front of Shui Xuanjin, Yu Xiaoyi shed all pretense of being a Crown Prince, instead acting as respectfully as a disciple. Upon seeing the elder descend, he immediately stepped forward, gently taking the old man's arm. The smoothness of the movement clearly indicated this was not the first time he had performed such an action. Shui Xuanjin nodded slightly to him, his gaze carrying the doting affection of an elder toward his descendants. Contacting this flicker of affection, He Yiming was suddenly reminded of Elder Bao, who was currently exerting himself to the utmost back at the He Family Village, striving to break through to the tenth level of Neijin. He wondered if the old man had succeeded.

Ascending the steps, they soon arrived before the Longting Hall. Looking up, four fierce-looking, writhing Azure Dragons coiled around the roof ridge. Between the two central dragons hovered a luminous pearl. The two dragons craned their necks back, gazing with greedy eyes at the pearl so close at hand, extending their massive claws toward it... This sculpture of "Two Dragons Playing with a Pearl" was so lifelike it was almost indistinguishable from reality. He Yiming’s gaze lingered there for a moment before retracting. Inside the main hall, the purple-red pillars were intricately carved with soaring dragons and dancing phoenixes, vivid and lifelike, seeming ready to leap out. The four walls of the hall were covered in dazzling, colorful murals that were impossible to take in all at once.

Inside the hall, they followed ancient customs, seated at separate tables. There were already over a hundred seats arranged, and with a quick glance, He Yiming immediately spotted his uncle, He Quanxin, and He Yitian among the assembly. He was slightly taken aback; it was somewhat unexpected that they, given their status, would be present here. The father and son nodded slightly toward He Yiming in greeting but remained seated in the rear section, making no move to approach.

He Yiming returned a slight nod but did not linger his gaze on them, for he had already spotted the Xiantian realm master occupying a specific seat in the hall. Every Xiantian master possessed a unique aura. The one seated here was a man with an overwhelmingly powerful presence. He sat calmly in a corner of the hall, yet whoever entered the hall, the first thing they saw and felt seemed to be this middle-aged man in that corner. He wore a rare, deep-crimson robe, resembling a massive light bulb, radiating endless brilliance and heat, constantly demanding the attention of everyone present. He Yiming had never before encountered anyone who maintained their aura at such a high intensity so brazenly. However, upon sensing his pressure, He Yiming had to admit that this man was certainly qualified for his arrogance. The power he sensed emanating from him was absolutely the strongest He Yiming had ever encountered; even the three Xiantian masters He Yiming had met before seemed inferior.

Although the man appeared middle-aged, He Yiming had heard from Xue Lie that this person’s true age approached a hundred years. Yet, for a Xiantian master, that age was not considered particularly advanced; barring accident, he likely had at least another century of life ahead of him. Shui Xuanjin and He Yiming entered the hall almost simultaneously. The moment they stepped inside, this man immediately opened his eyes. His eyes flared suddenly, powerful Xiantian True Qi surging between them, his sharp gaze slicing over like a blade’s edge.

Yu Xiaoyi, who was supporting the elder, inadvertently looked up and met this gaze. He immediately felt a searing pain in his eyes, an unbearable sting as if pricked by needles. He inwardly cursed his bad luck, knowing this was a clash between Xiantian masters, and he was merely an unfortunate soul caught in the vortex. Although he immediately shut his eyes, the painful sensation did not immediately recede, and two clear streams of tears immediately slid down his handsome face.

He Yiming's expression tightened. He took a step forward, surprisingly moving ahead of Shui Xuanjin, raising both hands to form a sudden seal. His fingers interlaced, and a bizarre vortex seemed to materialize on his hands. His palms vibrated like taut drums, and a wave of invisible, colorless True Qi instantly shot out. When he dealt with Lü Xinwen, the True Qi he unleashed had not yet reached a state of being soundless and formless, but after studying the original texts of the Fudi Yin (Subduing Earth Seal) and the Yunyue Yin (Cloud Rain Seal), he had made subtle improvements to his seal arts. The needle-like True Qi generated by the Cangzhen Yin (Hidden Needle Seal) was not only three parts more powerful but also significantly harder to detect and evade.

Cheng Fu’s expression shifted slightly. His previous probe had not been a full-scale attack. He hadn't expected his opponent to immediately strike without a word—this lacked the demeanor of a Xiantian master. He snorted coldly and waved his hand. The robes he wore were wide and voluminous, especially the sleeves, which extended far beyond the norm. As he waved his hand now, the sleeves instantly transformed into a sea of crimson, surging forward to meet He Yiming’s needle-like True Qi. A crisp sound suddenly rang out in the hall, like the clash of metal against stone, sharp and melodious.

He Yiming’s eyes lifted slightly, and then he heard Shui Xuanjin’s voice behind him: "It is well known that Brother Cheng’s long robe is woven from silk spun by Fire Silkworms found in active volcanoes combined with steel wire. Though not a treasured artifact, even a true artifact would struggle to damage it. Seeing it now confirms the reputation is well-deserved." He Yiming felt a subtle shift within, knowing that Shui Xuanjin’s words were meant for him. If he were to fight Cheng Fu barehanded without knowing the nature of this robe, he would inevitably suffer a significant loss.

Cheng Fu slowly stood up, gazing quietly at Shui Xuanjin. After a moment, he spoke, "Brother Shui overpraises me. This small robe is truly inferior to Brother Shui’s discerning eyes." Shui Xuanjin offered a slight smile, reached out, and gently rubbed Yu Xiaoyi’s temples a few times. Yu Xiaoyi let out a long breath and opened his eyes. Although his eyes were still slightly red and swollen, the injury was no longer serious. He lowered his head and murmured, "Thank you, Martial Great-Uncle." Shui Xuanjin pressed slightly on his hand, then entered the prepared seating area with He Yiming.

As they took their seats, the elder chuckled softly, "Brother He, thank you for stepping in to help." He Yiming gave an embarrassed smile. "He was disrespecting me; it had nothing to do with you." Cheng Fu had deliberately provoked Shui Xuanjin the moment he entered the hall, clearly attempting to force Shui Xuanjin into action. He Yiming knew Shui Xuanjin's physical condition meant he was absolutely unfit to contend with a master of the same rank, which is why he had instantly intervened. But how could such a thoughtful motive escape the aged yet ever-aware Shui Xuanjin?

The two exchanged a look, both fully understanding. The old and the young shared a feeling of having met too late. Especially for He Yiming, the thought that the elder's lifespan might be short, perhaps only a few years remaining, brought a wave of sadness. Some people, after meeting only once, feel like friends of many years, connecting instantly. But others, even seeing each other daily, remain like strangers. The affections between people are truly the most elusive thing in the world, and often utterly irrational. Even He Yiming himself found his actions somewhat questionable—they lacked prudence. But if one considered the consequences of every action, life would be utterly tedious.

In the seat adjacent to Cheng Fu sat a handsome pair, a man and a woman, both appearing to be only around twenty years old. They bore a slight resemblance to each other and exuded an air of noble elegance that deterred scrutiny. As He Yiming’s gaze fell upon them, the pair both bowed slightly in their seats. Despite their noble status, they were unwilling to show disrespect before Xiantian masters, nor were they eager to invite the aversion of a Xiantian master over some minor matter.

A clear, resonant bell sounded, and then an elder dressed in magnificent robes entered from the rear hall, preceded by several attendants. When he appeared in the hall, everyone except the three Xiantian masters stood up, including the young man and woman. However, unlike the others who knelt in reverence, these two merely inclined their heads in greeting. This elder did not immediately take his seat but first approached Shui Xuanjin, apologizing, "Martial Great-Uncle, these are Master Cheng Fu from Kailong, His Highness the Third Prince, and Her Highness the Fifth Princess. They insisted on seeing you, so I had to trouble you to make the journey. I beg your forgiveness, Great-Uncle."

Shui Xuanjin smiled faintly. "Your Majesty, it is also my honor to meet the royal family and the State Protection Master from Kailong. You take too much thought for me." He Yiming naturally recognized this man as Yu Rupei, the contemporary King of the Tianluo Kingdom. He was surprised that the King himself showed such profound respect to Shui Xuanjin. However, a moment of thought made it clear: Shui Xuanjin had been a sworn brother to several previous generations of kings, and he had spent the latter half of his life residing in the Tianluo capital. These kings had, in essence, grown up under his watch. This relationship was naturally incomparable to that between other rulers and their State Protection Masters.

After greeting Shui Xuanjin, Yu Rupei’s gaze settled on He Yiming, and a genuine smile immediately spread across his face. "Master He, it is truly a fortune for our nation that we could invite Your esteemed presence." He Yiming bent slightly at the waist. "Your Majesty, you flatter me." When facing the ruler of a nation, He Yiming could not maintain the same level of composure and arrogance as Shui Xuanjin. After all, the King's two hundred-plus years stood in stark contrast to He Yiming's mere sixteen years, leaving him with considerably less footing.

Yu Rupei did not linger too long with He Yiming. He then paid his respects to the three distinguished guests from Kailong before ordering wine, dishes, and musical accompaniment to be served. Moments later, the atmosphere in the hall grew lively. Those present in the hall accompanying the King were all figures of renown within Tianluo, representing the absolute pinnacle of the nation. By his status, He Yiming should have occupied a separate table, but when he and Shui Xuanjin insisted on sitting together, no one dared to object.

At the banquet, He Yiming often felt a scorching gaze drift toward their table. This gaze felt substantial, as if trying to penetrate and dissect them entirely. Yet, strangely, this undisguised scrutiny held no sense of hostility or challenge; it only made him feel profoundly stifled. Frowning slightly, He Yiming murmured quietly, "Brother Shui, what exactly does that Cheng Fu want?" Shui Xuanjin offered a wry smile. "He wants to see if my final days are truly approaching, as the rumors suggest." He Yiming blinked in surprise. "Didn't he see it?" Shui Xuanjin chuckled softly. "Of course, he didn't see it. Unless we truly engage in a battle, who would dare to underestimate me while I sit here calmly?"

He Yiming opened his mouth, then stopped, wanting to say something more. Shui Xuanjin smiled gently. "But it is strange. When I first met you, I could sense that you had discerned my physical discomfort. Have you cultivated some peculiar technique?" He Yiming managed a bitter smile. "Brother Shui, to be honest, I haven't cultivated any strange technique, but I simply sensed that your life force seemed to be continuously draining away, which is why I displayed that expression at the time." Shui Xuanjin showed surprise on his face and sighed deeply. "So it is an innate gift. Truly enviable." He Yiming knew in his heart that this sharp intuition must be connected to that fortuitous encounter at the bottom of the lake that day.

Suddenly, Shui Xuanjin's helpless sigh reached his ears: "Cheng Fu failed to see through my true state today. I fear there will be more trouble in the future. It is truly a headache." Watching his troubled expression, He Yiming was suddenly flooded with a powerful emotion, a desire to offer to take on the position of State Protection Master. But the words caught in his throat, and he ultimately restrained himself, though an unspoken sentiment settled in his heart.