"The wind has finally picked up, haha! I've been waiting in this godforsaken place for over two months!" "Idiot, a downpour is coming! Hurry up and run!"

The street instantly dissolved into chaos, a frantic scramble of overturned stalls and fleeing figures. In the blink of an eye, the thoroughfare, moments ago packed with people, was deserted, leaving only a wake of devastation behind.

Zong Shou gazed toward the distance again; indeed, the dense banks of clouds were slowly drifting away.

As the wind intensified, the massive mountain, perpetually shrouded in mist, finally revealed its true form across the way.

However, to the south, a blanket of oppressive, inky black clouds was also being driven towards them by the gale. Lightning flashed intermittently, punctuated by the deep roar of thunder.

But Zong Shou’s expression gradually grew wistful.

It was that time again. He wondered if she was already standing atop Mount Sheng, dancing in the wind? That habit, it was rumored, had begun centuries before the Age of the God-Emperor.

Recalling the memory of that figure—ethereal yet utterly captivating—Zong Shou fell into a brief, startled daze. After a long moment, his reverie was broken by a sharp 'knock-knock' at the door.

Yin Yang entered. The Huan Shou saber was belted at his waist, and he was fully prepared. Clad in a formal martial scholar's robe, he looked imposing and dignified. Pity his face remained rigidly stern and unyielding.

"Young Master, it is time we depart! Delay breeds complications; we cannot linger here any longer—"

Braving the torrential rain, the Cloud-Crossing Carriage sped ahead, exiting the valley first. The sixteen Cloud-Treading Steeds pulling it clearly resisted the violent wind, occasionally letting out dissatisfied whinnies. Yet, under Yin Yang's firm control, they trotted obediently ahead.

The carriage body frequently tilted under the force of the gale. Fortunately, the array etched into the carriage’s undercarriage served its purpose, always stabilizing it just before it could overturn.

After traversing a dense forest spanning a hundred miles and soaring over a river three hundred zhang wide, the Cloud-Crossing Carriage finally arrived at the base of a majestic peak.

The first thing to capture the three pairs of eyes was an impossibly vast mountain gate.

The stone gateway, nine hundred zhang high, was composed of eighteen colossal pillars, crafted entirely from deep emerald spirit jade, carved with intricate bas-reliefs that spoke of supreme grandeur and opulent beauty. The stairway carved within was also stone, extraordinarily broad.

It broadcasted the inherent dominance of the Eastern Lin Cloud Realm’s paramount sect without reservation.

"This is Danling Mountain? It's huge—"

Chuxue and Zong Shou jumped down from the carriage together, then craned their necks upwards, trying to see the summit. It remained lost in the swirling clouds, its true form obscured.

"This place is at least three times larger than our Qiantian Mountain! No, five times at least. Truly worthy of the Lingyun Sect—"

Zong Shou sneered inwardly. What did the size of Danling Mountain have to do with the Lingyun Sect? He snorted coldly under his breath, "This Danling Mountain may be large. But a mountain is not famous for its height, but for the immortal dwelling upon it; water is not revered for its depth, but for the dragon within it—"

He paused, remembering that currently, the strongest expert in this realm, one who approached the level of true immortals, was indeed stationed on this very mountain.

As for their Qiantian Mountain, besides a handful of veterans, they were severely lacking in talent. He pursed his lips, casting a glance of disdain toward the summit. Uttering that phrase felt utterly hollow.

He recalled when he was just a novice entering the God-Emperor Game, frequently ambushed by Lingyun Sect disciples who would steal his kills or even slay him to seize his treasures. From those early days, he became irrevocably embroiled in conflict with the foremost sect in the Eastern Cloud Realm, killing perhaps a hundred thousand of their disciples throughout his time there.

Later, having mastered the martial arts, he had even infiltrated their Cloud Palace and battled their Sect Master for a full day and night. Though he was forced to flee in the end, it was an honorable defeat.

His past and present lives were deeply intertwined with the Lingyun Sect’s grievances. Regardless, he simply couldn't stand them.

However, those past glories were confined to the game. Here and now, before the might of the Lingyun Sect, he was but an ant beneath a giant's heel. They wouldn't even need to act; their mere presence could crush him.

His greatest ambition had always been to place this sect beneath his heel and stamp down hard. He wondered if this life would allow him to fulfill that vow.

He then considered what would happen if his father’s connections proved useful and he was actually allowed to join the Lingyun Sect. What should he do then? Go with the flow, or maintain his defiance?

A storm awaited him outside. Having the backing of a major sect didn't sound entirely unpleasant.

He had long coveted the martial arts and spiritual techniques hidden within the Lingyun Sect’s ten-thousand-year heritage. Before acquiring the Zhou Ji Ming Shi Shu, he had been plotting to break into their Scripture Repository once more.

At worst, if he grew tired of it later, he could defect. Those old fools wouldn't be able to stop him anyway.

Chuxue found this puzzling and glanced back at him with curiosity. Then she shook her head, unaware that Zong Shou’s mind was currently churning with thoughts that would make any Lingyun disciple wish to tear him limb from limb.

The road Yin Yang drove them on had been a scene of relentless downpour. Yet, near Danling Mountain, the sky was clear.

The three climbed the steps, reaching the area before the towering gate in mere moments.

Beneath the massive stone pillars stood four or five Daoists, standing ramrod straight on either side of the structure.

Before Zong Shou and his companions could approach, a square-faced Daoist stepped forward and called out loudly, "Who goes there? Today is the day our Lingyun Sect accepts new Inner Disciples. The Outer Gate assessment must wait three days until the rain ceases. If you have no other business, you must withdraw quickly!"

Yin Yang immediately halted his steps, bowed deeply with a solemn expression, and replied, "Yin Yang of Qiantian Mountain, commanded by my Lord, I have come to pay respects to the Head of Danling Mountain! We seek to have our Young Master inducted into the ranks of the Lingyun Sect!"

As he spoke, Yin Yang produced a crimson token from his hand and presented it respectfully.

"This is the Lingyun Crimson Token!"

Zong Shou’s pupils contracted, and a realization washed over him. No wonder his father and Yin Yang were so confident in arranging his entry into the Lingyun Sect.

Only those who had rendered significant service to the Lingyun Sect were eligible to possess a Lingyun Crimson Token. Holding this token allowed one to demand a single favor from the sect at any time. Naturally, the value of the favor sought had to match the original contribution.

Seeing the single golden line beneath the characters 'Lingyun' on the token, Zong Shou surmised that the assistance his father or ancestor provided to the sect must have been substantial.

The square-faced Daoist also looked surprised, but after only a slight hesitation and a quick glance at Zong Shou, he nodded slightly. "So, you are of the Celestial Fox lineage! And this must be the Young Master of Qiantian Mountain? Since it is a High-Grade Lingyun Crimson Token, requesting discipleship, or even entry under the Head Seat, is entirely appropriate. My name is Huang Yi; I am a fifth-generation disciple of the Lingyun Sect. You three may follow me!"

After speaking, Huang Yi raised his hand slightly, and a cloud-shaped magical artifact flew out, hovering in mid-air.

Yin Yang and Chuxue ceased speaking and stepped onto the 'cloud' platform. Zong Shou followed suit, ascending with long strides.

"Please stand steady, all three!"

Huang Yi offered a brief reminder, then formed a hand seal and recited an incantation, finally uttering the word, "Rise!" The cloud immediately lifted into the air, slowly ascending toward the mountain peak.

The cloud’s speed was leisurely but far surpassed walking. In moments, they reached the mountainside.

This was Chuxue’s first time riding such a spiritual master's artifact. She stamped her foot slightly and then murmured with intense envy, "This Daoist Huang Yi is only a fifth-generation disciple of the Lingyun Sect, yet so young, not much older than me, and he can already command artifacts in the air. When will Xue'er ever achieve such success—"