The sun was dipping low, casting long shadows across the otherwise tranquil encampment, its peace abruptly shattered by the jarring drone of engine hums.

Two massive Hummers, tires spitting gravel, barreled down a slope before finally grinding to a halt just outside the perimeter of the camp.

Zhang Yang stepped down from the lead Hummer, followed by Mi Xue and Qu Meilan. Their arrival had not gone unnoticed; numerous figures spilled out from the tents and structures, eager to see what commotion had disturbed their isolated refuge.

Four or five middle-aged men emerged first. Their cultivation levels were unremarkable, hovering somewhere between the second and third layers of Neijin, with the strongest among them barely touching the mid-stage of the third layer.

“May I ask who you are?”

The man among the group possessing the highest cultivation—mid-stage Neijin third layer—stepped forward, addressing Zhang Yang directly.

“We are travelers passing through. Dusk is falling, and we noticed your encampment. We hope to find lodging for the night. Being together would surely offer greater safety, wouldn't it!”

Zhang Yang stood at the forefront of his group, offering a straightforward reply to the Neijin third-layer cultivator.

The man frowned deeply upon hearing this. The young man speaking was flanked by several adults who nevertheless deferred to him, yet no matter how closely he scrutinized Zhang Yang, the youth appeared utterly devoid of any discernible foundation in cultivation—just an ordinary person.

Perhaps they are truly just regular travelers who somehow stumbled upon this place, the man mused, his gaze softening as he studied Zhang Yang’s guileless, inviting smile, his mind lost in thought.

“Sect Master Zhao, isn’t this inappropriate? They look like common folk!”

As the middle-aged man pondered, a gaunt figure nearby suddenly interjected, casting a look of suspicion toward Zhang Yang and his companions.

“Indeed, Sect Master Zhao. We formed this joint alliance precisely for stability, to band together and avoid being bullied by the larger sects until that treasure appears. Adding a few ordinary people is nothing but a burden!”

“Exactly, Sect Master Zhao. We trust you enough to make you the temporary leader of this collective, but you shouldn't make a mistake right out of the gate!”

The men surrounding the initial speaker began murmuring amongst themselves in hushed tones.

Their voices were low enough that if Zhang Yang and his party were truly ordinary, they would have had no chance of hearing. Yet, every word landed distinctly in their ears.

“Husband, are they all cultivators?”

Mi Xue moved forward from the rear, drawing close to Zhang Yang’s side, and whispered her question while glancing at the group.

Zhang Yang nodded. After listening to their brief exchange, he had already managed to deduce their origins and intentions.

It seemed these people had all heard the rumors regarding the imminent appearance of the Ten-Thousand-Year Peach of Kunlun Mountain, converging here in hopes of catching a lucky break, anticipating they could profit merely by being present near such a peerless marvel. For these minor sects, even gaining nothing would have no lasting consequence.

Zhang Yang’s deduction proved entirely correct; this was the very reason they were gathered.

Upon reaching Kunlun, they discovered that they were far from the only ones coveting the Ten-Thousand-Year Peach. Numerous reclusive major sects, usually remaining hidden, had dispatched envoys. Not to mention the Shaolin, Wudang, and other renowned grand sects, or the great aristocratic families like the Shu Shan Li clan, the Changbai Shan Hua clan, and the Demon Gate Zhou family.

The sect masters and elders of these smaller factions likely couldn't match even a third or fourth-generation disciple from those prominent powers. Being under such close watch was naturally uncomfortable.

Thus, initially, some minor sects proactively formed alliances, grouping together so their collective strength would elevate them at least one level, preventing them from being easily slighted.

The encampment at the base of Kunlun Mountain represented just such an arrangement, though this specific camp was marginally stronger than others formed by similar small groups.

The residents here were the more capable elements among the third-rate sects. Recently, their ranks had been bolstered by the addition of the Yitian Sect, which was considered a second-rate power in the cultivation world.

The Yitian Sect was originally a splinter branch of the Emei Sect. However, as the once-famous Emei faded into the currents of history, the Yitian Sect managed to survive, though severely depleted. They maintained their second-rate standing only by possessing core Neijin techniques and spiritual elixirs inherited from the vanished Emei lineage.

The Zhao Sect Master, possessing the strength of the mid-stage Neijin third layer, was indeed Zhao Zhicheng, the head of the Yitian Sect.

From the moment he assumed leadership, Zhao Zhicheng had nurtured grand ambitions: to revitalize the Yitian Sect and restore the splendor of the great Emei School. He practiced diligently, striving constantly, but after more than a decade, with no discernible improvement in the sect’s standing, Sect Master Zhao grew disheartened and began to lose steam.

It wasn't until the recent circulation of news about the Ten-Thousand-Year Peach on Kunlun Mountain that Zhao Zhicheng’s ambition reignited. If he, Zhao Zhicheng, could somehow acquire that peach... he might achieve immediate breakthrough to the Great Perfection stage. With a Great Perfection master as their protector, the Yitian Sect would naturally ascend to become the premier power on Mount Emei, and recreating the glory of the old Emei would soon follow.

It was for this reason that Zhao Zhicheng led every promising disciple of the Yitian Sect to Kunlun.

Upon arriving, Zhao Zhicheng’s initial enthusiasm was again brutally doused by reality. The number of sects and families vying for the peach was staggering; his small Yitian Sect had no foothold. In this environment, Zhao Zhicheng chose to ally with these relatively stronger minor sects, joining their collective. His underlying thought was that with the Yitian Sect’s superior strength, he could better control these smaller factions for his own benefit within the alliance.

Now that he had just been appointed leader, he could not afford to be reckless or alienate the masters of the lesser sects.

Having settled his thoughts, Zhao Zhicheng turned back to Zhang Yang and his group, ready to speak. “I apologize, friends, but this is a private camp. Outsiders are not welcome…” He paused, then exclaimed, “Wait!!”

Zhao Zhicheng had been about to reject their request outright, but the sight of Mi Xue made him freeze. Immediately after, he noticed Qu Meilan standing behind the others.

Mi Xue’s stunning beauty caught his eye, but even more arresting were the subtle traces of Neijin cultivation he sensed on her person, as well as on the other adults accompanying the young man.

Zhao Zhicheng, being a mid-stage Neijin third layer cultivator, couldn't gauge Qiao Yihong's true strength, but he could estimate the levels of Mi Xue, Qu Meilan, and the couple, Yan Yefei and Li Juan.

This sudden realization caused him to instantly reverse course. He asked, his voice laced with shock, “Are you cultivators?”

Zhang Yang nodded; he had no intention of concealing the fact.

Seeing Zhang Yang nod, those around Zhao Zhicheng revealed expressions of astonishment. They lacked Zhao Zhicheng’s perceptive abilities, and coupled with the fading light, they hadn't clearly discerned the true power of Zhang Yang’s party.

“I am Zhao Zhicheng, Sect Master of the Emei Yitian Sect. May I ask which lineage you belong to?” Zhao Zhicheng inquired under the scrutiny of the surrounding men.

“We are the Medical Saint Martial Sect. We came to Kunlun Mountain merely to broaden our horizons.”

Zhang Yang answered directly. The Medical Saint Martial Sect was one he had recently founded, and as yet, only the foremost major powers like Wudang and Shaolin, and the grand families such as the Shu Shan Li clan and Changbai Shan Hua clan, had heard whispers of it. Most in the cultivation world knew of the Medical Saint Zhang Family and Zhang Yang, but had no idea what the Medical Saint Martial Sect represented.

Zhao Zhicheng gave no thought to associating Zhang Yang with the Medical Saint Zhang Family. The recent emergence of Zhang Yang, the heir of the Medical Saint lineage, had propelled the Zhang Family to become arguably the foremost aristocratic family in the current cultivation world, surpassing even established powers like the Shu Shan Li family and the Xuanyuan Long family. These few cultivators, seemingly only at the first or second layer of Neijin, could not possibly be connected to such a powerful lineage.

As for the sect name, Medical Saint Martial Sect, Zhao Zhicheng dismissed it completely. Nowadays, there were countless examples of small sects deliberately affixing names suggesting connections to great families or major sects to sound more formidable. His own sect, for instance, initially referred to itself in the cultivation world as the Emei Yitian Sect.

Zhao Zhicheng’s gaze settled upon Qiao Yihong. To him, Qiao Yihong exuded the aura of a true master, while Zhang Yang had already been relegated to the background. Having achieved the profound realization of returning to simplicity at the Leshan Giant Buddha, Zhang Yang now appeared to everyone as an ordinary mortal. Unless he chose to act, no one could discern his true depth.

It was precisely because of Qiao Yihong that Zhao Zhicheng felt inclined to forge an alliance. Anyone he couldn't clearly read likely possessed at least the strength of a Neijin third layer. Regardless of what minor sect the Medical Saint Martial Sect was, Qiao Yihong alone made them worth cultivating ties with.

Making up his mind, Zhao Zhicheng ignored the frowned faces of the surrounding sect masters and spoke directly to Qiao Yihong. “Since you are fellow cultivators, you may naturally stay the night within our camp!”

Qiao Yihong completely disregarded Zhao Zhicheng’s focus and turned his head toward Zhang Yang, awaiting his direction.

This action caused Zhao Zhicheng to regard Zhang Yang with a second, more intense look. He simply couldn't fathom why Qiao Yihong, along with all the men and women present, displayed such deference toward Zhang Yang.

Drawing closer, Zhao Zhicheng meticulously scrutinized Zhang Yang once more. But no matter how closely he looked, he could detect absolutely no trace of internal energy cultivation on the young man.

“Very well, we will trouble you then,” Zhang Yang conceded with a nod, leading Mi Xue and the others into the camp behind Zhao Zhicheng.