Li Muzhan never stopped his steps, returning to the inn. Qinghe Town was the domain of the Qinghe Sword Sect, and all outsiders were under their watch.

However, these five individuals possessed peak cultivation, having returned to simplicity; the Qinghe Sword Sect disciples might not recognize this subtlety, potentially leading to trouble.

Li Muzhan sat on the couch in his inn room, shaking his head with a smile. He had no intention of warning them; the Qinghe Sword Sect was not easily cowed and wouldn't be resolved so simply.

He sat cross-legged, quickly suppressing his aura and entering meditation, immersing himself in the Gazing at Heaven, Man, God, and Illumination Sutra. Having experienced several worlds, Li Muzhan realized his foundation remained the Gazing at Heaven, Man, God, and Illumination Sutra.

Time flowed unnoticed in the trance. When he slowly awoke, the sky outside was still pitch black. Li Muzhan felt as if he had emerged from water, the world before him fresh and new.

As the Gazing at Heaven, Man, God, and Illumination Sutra deepened, he experienced this sensation every time he awakened from meditation: a feeling of a new life beginning, a rebirth, filling him with beauty and emotion, deepening his love for life, and making him cherish his existence all the more.

He knew this meditation had lasted at least a full day and night. His Void Eye surveyed the surroundings, searching for the five individuals. Guided by the intuition enhanced by the Heavenly Secret Art, he soon located them in the very inn where he was staying.

Li Muzhan frowned, discovering ten more top-tier masters. Judging by their attire, they seemed to be a different group, not affiliated with the Huaqing Sect.

Li Muzhan surmised that the Huaqing Sect disciples were either there by chance, watching the excitement, or perhaps preparing to exploit the situation and add insult to injury.

He slightly lowered his eyelids, once again splitting his consciousness in two: one portion fixed on the thirteen top masters, while the rest of his mind continued to decipher the Grand Heavenly Cycle Sword Technique.

The Grand Heavenly Cycle Sword Technique held him captive; it was as exhilarating as solving a riddle. Within the transitions and turns of its moves, there was always a trace of profound mystery that intoxicated him.

The full moon drifted toward the west, bringing the deepest part of the night. The hazy moonlight seemed to have lost its power, unable to illuminate the surroundings any longer.

Li Muzhan’s spirit stirred, and he slowly awoke. The thirteen top masters exited the inn, darting across the night sky like phantoms, utterly silent.

Li Muzhan raised an eyebrow. His Void Eye had been tracking them, watching them silently neutralize the Qinghe Sword Sect's visible and hidden sentinels before charging straight into the sect’s compound.

Li Muzhan had expected them to be blocked by the talisman formations, but they passed through unimpeded, rushing straight into the Qinghe Sword Sect grounds.

Witnessing this, even Li Muzhan, though slow, understood: the Qinghe Sword Sect had an internal traitor, and one situated at a high level, whose actions were interfering with the talisman arrays.

Soon, people rushed to meet them. Li Muzhan even saw Deng Jiuru personally engaging. The Qinghe Sword Sect, having already suffered a heavy blow from him previously, was indeed severely weakened.

While masters were numerous, few reached the level of these thirteen grey-clothed figures. Li Muzhan shook his head; their cultivation was profound, comparable to his own state before entering the Mingjing Sect.

When he was alone, he had thrown the Qinghe Sword Sect into chaos; how could thirteen individuals now withstand them? Despite the numerical advantage, the Qinghe disciples were retreating steadily.

Li Muzhan shook his head. It seemed the Sect Master’s sources of intelligence were extraordinary; the Qinghe Sword Sect was truly facing immense trouble, and relying only on themselves, they stood little chance.

Just as he was about to move, two long cries echoed, and two phantom-like shadows floated into the fray, instantly knocking two grey-robed elders backward.

Li Muzhan focused his gaze. These two newcomers were elders with beards and brows as white as snow, their faces ruddy like infants. Their actual age was impossible to discern; their eyes were like lightning, and their presence was divine, utterly imposing.

Li Muzhan admired them; the depth of these two elders' cultivation surpassed even that of the thirteen grey-clothed figures. They must be the foundational masters of the Qinghe Sword Sect.

The two elders wore simple homespun robes, appearing like mere rustics at first glance. Their beards and brows fluttered in the wind, their imposing aura breathtaking, like unsheathed precious swords whose sharpness none could withstand.

The moment they struck, they repelled two grey-robed elders. The disciples of the Qinghe Sword Sect cheered, their spirits greatly bolstered, and they charged forward fearlessly. However, their impact was limited; the cultivation of these thirteen elders vastly surpassed theirs—like ants attempting to shake a mountain.

Four grey-robed elders separated and floated forward to meet the two. They moved their palms slowly and deliberately, their expressions solemn, forcing the two homespun-robed elders to meet their defense with full concentration.

"Bang!" "Bang!" The collision of palm strikes produced dull thuds that could be heard throughout the town, each sound like rolling thunder.

The four grey-robed elders retreated, while the two homespun-robed elders stood firm, their complexions unchanged. Their robes billowed as if buffeted by a strong gale.

The four grey-robed elders stepped back five paces, then rushed forward again, slowly pushing their palms toward the two elders in homespun, forcing a direct confrontation.

They managed to tie up the two elders in homespun robes, but the Qinghe Sword Sect masters, despite their numbers, could not hold off the remaining grey-robed attackers. The two who were initially knocked back were already back on their feet, showing no signs of serious injury.

Li Muzhan watched as Qinghe Sword Sect disciples fell one after another. Shaking his head, he flashed into the midst of the battle and called out in a deep voice, "Sect Master Deng!"

Deng Jiuru, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, injured significantly, turned at the sound, frowned, and asked, "Young Hero Li has not left?"

Li Muzhan smiled, "I dare not defy the Sect Master's command. Sect Master Deng, perhaps you should rest a while; let me handle this!"

A flash of sword light shimmered at his waist. He slowly drew a line across the wrist of a grey-robed elder. His movement was unhurried and deliberate, yet the elder inexplicably moved his wrist forward to meet the blade.

Seeing this single move, Deng Jiuru understood that Li Muzhan’s swordsmanship was far beyond his own level.

He turned to watch his disciples charge forward repeatedly, seemingly rushing to their deaths, unable to shake the grey-robed elders at all. Sorrow welled up in his heart, and he slowly nodded, "I trouble Young Hero Li!"

He had only one thought: as long as he could stop these people from killing more disciples, he would pay any price!

Li Muzhan’s smile was slow as he thrust his blade. His feet moved lightly. The grey-robed elders seemed to be offering themselves up, each presenting their wrists to the edge of the sword.

In the blink of an eye, six grey-robed elders suffered wrist wounds, their swords flying from their grasp. However, their left hands remained, and though their ferocity was somewhat diminished, they could still defend themselves.

Li Muzhan's footwork drifted as if riding the wind, and he attacked another grey-robed elder. This elder instantly swept aside to avoid the sword tip.

Li Muzhan followed smoothly, his sword tip still enveloping the foe. The grey-robed elder avoided direct engagement, merely retreating continuously, swift as a phantom.

Li Muzhan inwardly shook his head; this person's movement technique possessed a unique subtlety, excelling in evasion and redirection. Unless he employed his instantaneous movement divine ability, truly stopping him would be difficult.

Deng Jiuru commanded in a deep voice, "Everyone, gather near me!"

The crowd surged toward him like ants. Seeing this, the grey-robed elders exchanged a look, let out a long cry, and floated away, resembling thirteen bats sweeping across the night sky.

Li Muzhan shook his head; these opponents were troublesome. The moment they realized success was impossible, they fled instantly, without any lingering hesitation. Enemies like this were terrifying.

Seeing them depart, Deng Jiuru let out a breath of relief. He pushed through the crowd and came before Li Muzhan, cupping his hands and saying deeply, "Many thanks to Young Hero Li!"

Li Muzhan returned his sword to its sheath, cupped his hands, and smiled, "Sect Master Deng, I was merely carrying out orders; no need for pleasantries! I shall not intrude further and take my leave!"

With that, he nodded and smiled toward the two elders in homespun robes in the distance, then floated away under the watch of the assembled group.

"Little Deng, who was that?" one of the elders in homespun asked gravely.

Deng Jiuru waved his hand as a handsome middle-aged man gathered personnel to aid the wounded. Deng Jiuru approached the two elders in homespun, sighed helplessly, "Martial Uncle Meng, Martial Uncle Jing, may we speak aside?"

The two elders frowned at his secretive manner but said little, following him into a nearby main hall, staring intently at him.

Deng Jiuru offered a wry smile, "He is Li Wuji."

"Li Wuji... Chuan..." The two elders pondered deeply, finally shaking their heads. They had been in seclusion practicing and paid no heed to worldly affairs.

"Li Wuji of the Tianyuan Pavilion," Deng Jiuru clarified.

"It is him?!" The two elders immediately widened their eyes, sharp light flashing forth, their killing intent almost tangible. Deng Jiuru felt a chilling sensation throughout his body, as if plunging into an icy river.

"Little Deng, how did you let him in!?" one elder demanded loudly.

Deng Jiuru managed a strained smile, "Martial Uncle Meng, he is now a disciple of the Mingjing Sect!"

The two elders suddenly realized the situation, their gazes softening. They recalled the beginning of this entire affair. Li Muzhan had previously inflicted heavy damage on the Qinghe Sword Sect, nearly forcing them to intervene, but they were a step too late; he was taken in as a disciple by the Mingjing Sect. Were it not for the Mingjing Sect’s mountain-like prestige, they would have secretly struck to vent the bile in their hearts.

"It's that boy..." The two elders frowned, ultimately shaking their heads with a long, wistful sigh.

They had witnessed Li Muzhan's swordsmanship and judged themselves incapable of defeating him. They never expected his progress to be so vast; now, even if they wished to kill him, they lacked the power.

"This Li Wuji is indeed a prodigy. How long has it been since he entered the Mingjing Sect, and he's already descended the mountain?" Deng Jiuru sighed, shaking his head. "Sect Master Huang sent him here for aid; I suspect he intends to mend relations!"

"Handle six..." The two elders shook their heads and sighed.

They were of advanced age, having cultivated diligently for so many years, yet they could not contend with such a young man. It was a profound shame to speak of.

However, they still had a layer of face-saving dignity: the heart method of the Mingjing Sect was indeed exquisite, far surpassing that of the Qinghe Sword Sect; otherwise, they wouldn't have sent their most gifted disciples there!

"Forget it. Regardless, he is the one who saved us!" The other elder waved his hand, sighing, "If he hadn't intervened, we would have been in dire peril this time!"

Although the two of them could hold off four of the grey-robed men, the remaining ones were sufficient to wipe out Deng Jiuru and his group, and then turn to deal with the pair.

"Do you know who they were?" the first elder inquired.

Deng Jiuru nodded slowly, his expression turning grim, "Martial Uncle Meng, they should be from the Xijiang Gang!"

"The Xijiang Gang?!" Martial Uncle Meng frowned, "They have quite the audacity!"... "So many masters?"

"It is rumored that the Xijiang Gang are the descendants of the Great River Sect; it seems the rumors are true," Deng Jiuru stated.

The complexions of the two elders darkened.

"The Great River Sect collapsed over a hundred years ago. It seems they are staging a resurgence!"

"It must be the old foundation of the Great River Sect," Elder Jing muttered, knitting his brow, "Little Deng, you must personally make a trip to the Mingjing Sect!"

The other elder slowly nodded, "To deal with the Great River Gang, we must rely on the Mingjing Sect!"

"Yes, I will set off for the Mingjing Sect tomorrow to offer my personal thanks."

Without Li Muzhan's intervention this time, the Qinghe Sword Sect would truly have been facing overwhelming danger. He deeply felt the weakness of the Qinghe Sword Sect and their need for the Mingjing Sect's protection.

They were completely unaware, yet the Mingjing Sect had received prior notice. This very quick dissemination of intelligence demonstrated the sect's profound background.

"Be cautious. Perhaps the Xijiang Gang hasn't given up their ambitions."

Deng Jiuru nodded, "Yes, I will disguise myself; I won't be recognized."

Having reached his level of attainment, he was no longer concerned with pride or reputation; his focus was entirely on how to persuade the Mingjing Sect to help and annihilate the Xijiang Gang, otherwise, the Qinghe Sword Sect would know no peaceful days. (To be continued)