Though Xuan Mountain City bore the name "Mountain City," it was actually established upon flat plains. To its left flowed the Great River, to its right rested the imposing peaks, and nearby stretched ten thousand li of fertile land, the terrain lying like a crouching dragon and a coiled tiger.

Beyond the city walls, fifty li in circumference, stood walls forty zhang high and thirty-two zhang thick, wide enough for four carriages to drive abreast atop them. Constructed entirely of Gang Rock slabs, reinforced by Spirit Formations, these defenses radiated a majestic, imposing aura visible even from ten li away, giving the distinct impression of impregnable might.

At this moment, Xuanyuan Yiren stood upon a nine-story pavilion, leaning against the railing to gaze outward toward those distant ramparts.

However, her eyes were not fixed on the high walls, but farther toward the southeast. She only regretted that the walls were so tall, blocking her sight and preventing her from seeing what lay beyond.

"It has been three months now, and you still refuse to change your mind?"

Four zhang from the wooden railing stood a noblewoman around forty years of age, attended by more than ten maids behind her. The composure of her features was currently marred by barely concealed fury. "You should know exactly what kind of person that Zong Shou is! A man with a Dual Meridian physique, incapable of cultivation—a complete failure. Is he truly worth this? Yiren, you are going to ruin your entire life!"

Xuanyuan Yiren offered no reply, merely allowing the corner of her lips to lift slightly. As for what kind of person Zong Shou was, she certainly knew best.

Had she not made that trip to Cloud Saint City months ago, she might truly have believed he was incapable of cultivation. He had kept his true abilities hidden from her skillfully.

In recent days, whenever her mother spoke like this, she used to feel compelled to argue. But after recalling the words of Hu Qianqiu, she managed to restrain herself. Lately, she couldn't even muster the motivation to consider arguing.

Tian Yue also understood Zong Shou’s mindset back then. A man of that caliber possessed an innate arrogance of the strong. He disdained argument, never wishing or needing to prove anything—simply acting as he pleased, unconcerned with the opinions of others.

During the past month, that man had likely viewed her efforts with the amusement of a spectator, which was irritating.

However, what brought her the greatest joy on this journey eastward was neither his formidable Sword Dao nor his Nascent Soul stage Spirit Master cultivation. It was his character, which she found truly delightful—"It’s all your father’s fault for teaching you poorly, always rambling about the Way of Benevolence and Righteousness, and then setting up this damned engagement! What good is the Way of Benevolence and Righteousness? Can it be eaten?"

The middle-aged noblewoman maintained an elegant and stern demeanor, veiled authority beneath it, yet her words were shockingly crude, carrying the flavor of intense disappointment that iron would not turn into steel.

But when she saw Xuanyuan Yiren ignoring her completely, staring blankly into the distance, she suddenly felt a pang of doubt. Was her daughter really maintaining this stance for the sake of her own principles?

No matter how one looked at it, she appeared just like a young girl lost in thoughts of a man.

Her eyes darted, and the noblewoman’s tone shifted again: "Didn’t you always say that if you married, it would be to an unparalleled hero? Han Nishui of the Upper Firmament Sect, what an outstanding figure! Marrying him would be a perfect match. What is so good about that Zong Shou that you cling to him? One is heaven, the other is the earth. One is flawless, radiant white jade, the other is mud crushed underfoot. Yiren, are you so willing to be dragged into the mud by him that you refuse to be cherished in someone’s hands? How could I, Lin Shina, raise such a foolish daughter?"

Xuanyuan Yiren smiled faintly, offering no comment. If one spoke of an unparalleled hero, perhaps Zong Shou did not yet qualify.

But when it came to swordsmanship, how many peers in this world could truly stand against him?

Involuntarily, she recalled the peerless, sharp brilliance of the sword strike from three months ago, one that even Hu Qianqiu dared not lightly challenge. A stirring suddenly began in her chest, and her heartbeat quickened slightly.

She felt no shyness. In this world, what girl had never pondered romance? If she, Xuanyuan Yiren, missed him, what was so wrong with that?

The middle-aged noblewoman started slightly, already growing agitated. She stamped her foot: "My little Yiren, even if you don't think of yourself, you must think of your family! That vortex in Dry Heaven Mountain, once you are caught in it, even your father will be reduced to dust. Do you know that if you married Han Nishui, with the support of the Upper Firmament Sect and the Fountain Spring Sect, even establishing a foundation like Dry Heaven Mountain would not be difficult for your father? This is also for your life! Your Senior Brother said that that Xuan Moon Brilliance Art has too high a risk of mid-stage failure, requiring the aid of the Upper Firmament Sect’s elixirs. If something happened to you, what would your mother do? You always speak of benevolence and righteousness, but do you know that filial piety is part of that?"

Xuanyuan Yiren's expression finally shifted slightly. She turned around. "Mother! If Father heard these words, he would surely disapprove. Given Father's character, he would never rely on his own daughter to achieve some grand ambition. And you need not worry about my cultivation; Yiren has her own methods, and I have found some leads recently. As for filial piety, in my view, true filial piety means preventing one's parents from straying further down the wrong path. On the other hand, Mother, you are perfectly healthy, yet you feign illness to trick your daughter into returning—is that entertaining? Furthermore, Dry Heaven Mountain City will definitely belong to Zong Shou. He disdains outside help, even without Father’s assistance. My fiancé is not some mud to be stepped on either. Mother, I am very unhappy that you speak of him that way!"

"I insist on speaking that way! He is mud! A good-for-nothing! A scoundrel! A fool on the brink of death! A weakling! You wicked girl, you are truly defying heaven!"

The middle-aged noblewoman suddenly shouted loudly, venting her frustration violently. Seeing Xuanyuan Yiren’s delicate eyebrows furrow slightly before she casually looked away again, the noblewoman choked with anger, feeling as if a heavy punch had landed on empty air, leaving her chest unbearably stifled.

Then, she took a deep breath, forcing her emotions back into calm. She let out a cold laugh: "Dry Heaven Mountain City will definitely be Zong Shou's? I think your mind has been thoroughly clouded! Does that Young Master of Dry Heaven Mountain possess even a shred of capability? Once he lost his status as the Young Monarch Demon King, he is nothing—if he’s not mud, then what is he?"

Xuanyuan Yiren shook her head, unwilling to say more. The deadline they had set—the fifth month, when Zong Shou would personally come to Xuan Mountain City to meet her father—was fast approaching.

Her marriage was not for her mother to decide, nor her Senior Brother; only her father held that authority.

The noblewoman felt even more helpless, snorting coldly, "I won't bother persuading you anymore! Even if your father agrees to your marriage with that Zong Shou, I absolutely will not consent. For these next few months, you will stay right here! You are not permitted to leave unless you come to your senses yourself!"

With that, the noblewoman swept her sleeves away in a huff. Her following maids hurried after her.

In the blink of an eye, only two people remained in the nine-story pavilion.

Xuanyuan Yiren breathed a soft sigh of relief, a trace of weariness flickering in her eyes as well. Then, when she turned around, her expression was utterly cold, frosty and piercing. Without a trace of warmth, she looked at Li Yuniang, who had remained standing behind her.

"What are you still doing here? Why aren't you going with Mother?"

Li Yuniang’s body trembled, and two streams of tears immediately spilled from her eyes. "Miss! Why don't you listen to the Mistress? Although Zong Shou possesses exceptional talent, Han Nishui is surely not inferior to him. Moreover, he has the backing of the Upper Firmament Sect. Miss’s cultivation flaw also critically requires the Ancient Elixir of Cold Profundity..."

Xuanyuan Yiren let out a dry laugh. "Didn't I tell you before? Even if it meant actual death, I, Xuanyuan Yiren, would never act against my conscience for the sake of my life. Even less so now. Also, stop calling me 'Miss.' There is no longer any connection between us."

Li Yuniang’s breath hitched, and her expression grew agonizingly sorrowful. Then she heard Xuanyuan Yiren shift her gaze: "I am only curious now why you have refused to mention to anyone the matter of Zong Shou slaying Li Xieling and defeating Hu Qianqiu with his sword. I know he has reservations and does not wish to draw too much attention to himself, but what is your reason?"

"It’s not that I am unwilling—" Li Yuniang looked up, unconsciously biting her lip. "It's that I don't dare speak!"

"You don't dare?" Xuanyuan Yiren paused, her expression momentarily blank, then enlightened: "You don't want my father to know prematurely after he emerges from seclusion and change his mind? I understand now!"

Li Yuniang’s face was pale; she neither agreed nor denied it.

It was not as simple as her Miss suggested. The true reason she dared not speak lay elsewhere.

In fact, she still hadn't clearly ascertained what had truly happened near her.

Who was the person capable of threatening her life to the extent that she was forced into silence?

North of Narcissus Lake, roughly two thousand li away, within an unnamed gorge, two figures sat atop a mountain peak a hundred li distant, both looking utterly battered.

Yan Fan’s shoulder was thoroughly stained crimson. And before Xuanyuan Yiren, several light sword wounds marred her attire.

Meanwhile, in the gorge below, less than a hundred li wide, the landscape had been ravaged beyond recognition. Countless sword marks and pits were scattered everywhere. The fierce blasts of earlier had pulverized and annihilated every living thing within the area.

Yan Fan glanced at his wound, casually extended a hand, and sent out a wisp of sword energy. His muscles tensed, and the sword gash automatically healed.

"Fairy Shui's swordplay grows more seasoned with every encounter, each strike sharper than the last!"

He murmured in faint admiration, a hint of regret coloring his expression. "These past few days, I’ve felt a touch of regret! Binding ninety percent of my true energy and being forbidden from using the Jueshan Sword—if this continues, I truly won't be the Fairy's match in a few more rounds..."

Shui Lingbo raised an eyebrow, her disdain evident. "I, Shui Lingbo, have also bound eighty-five percent of my strength! And I haven't even used my Thunder Arts. You, Yan Fan, have studied swordsmanship and spirit arts for several hundred years, yet today you come to bully a junior like me by saying such things. Do you even feel shame? If you are unwilling, we can still fight with all our might. Fighting like this, holding back, is truly tedious and unsatisfying!"

Yan Fan chuckled, daring not to retort, merely showing a contemplative expression. "Time is drawing near; it has been over three months now. By this point, that child Zong Shou should be approaching the threshold of the Innate Realm. I wonder what his situation is like now? Has he touched the barrier between Man and Heaven? That threshold is not easily crossed..."