Wu Tian strained to hear Lin Xia’s voice, but her words were swallowed by the deafening roar of the black mist. The storm of shadows rolled and twisted like a living tide, surging forward with a hunger that threatened to devour everything in its path—including him. The mist was no ordinary fog. It pulsed with a sinister rhythm, as though it breathed, as though it possessed a will of its own. Its stench was acrid, metallic, like rusted iron soaked in blood. Every time it surged closer, the air grew colder, biting against Wu Tian’s skin, and the ground beneath his feet trembled as if recoiling from its touch. “May you find your way out of this darkness with Yueyin,” Wu Tian whispered under his breath, a prayer more than a hope. He could not linger. The mist hunted him relentlessly, and hesitation meant death. From the void, the voice of the Shadow Cultivator thundered once more, heavy and commanding. “Wu Tian… I still grant you a chance. Join me!” Wu Tian’s reply was sharp, unwav

“Embrace her! Embrace her!” The teasing voices of Xueyin and Changyi rang out like mischievous bells, echoing across the courtyard. Wu Tian stood frozen, bewildered, his face caught between confusion and embarrassment. Lin Xia lowered her gaze, her cheeks flushed crimson, her hands twisting nervously at her sides. “Wu Tian, what’s wrong with you?” Xueyin scolded, her tone playful yet insistent. “Poor Lin Xia has been waiting long enough!” At last, Wu Tian stepped forward, hesitant but sincere. His arms wrapped around Lin Xia in a gentle embrace, not of romance but of gratitude—a silent acknowledgment of the girl who had risked everything to save him. Lin Xia did not resist. She leaned into the moment, her face glowing red, her heart pounding like a drum. Changyi broke the silence with a firm voice. “Enough of this. We should return to Hu Nan City. I fear the Shadow Cultivator is already weaving his next scheme.” Xueyin nodded, her expression serious now. “He’s right. We must

“I want to meet Patriarch Mao Zhen. Uncle Cao, can you help me?” Wu Tian’s voice carried a quiet determination, though his eyes betrayed the storm of questions swirling within him. Wu Cao studied his nephew carefully, his gaze sharp. “Why do you wish to meet Mao Zhen? Is this about the Shadow Cultivator?” His tone was probing, unwilling to accept Wu Tian’s words at face value. Wu Tian shook his head, though his heart raced. “I only wish to thank him. During the Wind and Cloud Sect selection, when you intervened on my behalf, he allowed me to return home. I have yet to express my gratitude in person, on behalf of the Wu family.” Wu Cao’s lips curled into a faint, knowing smile. “You cannot deceive me, Tian’er. You want to ask him about Mao Xiang. But understand this—one does not simply walk into the presence of a sect leader. An appointment must be made.” Wu Tian leaned forward, his voice steady. “So… will you help me?” Wu Cao sighed, then nodded reluctantly. “As long as you

Wu Tian’s mind churned as he weighed Patriarch Mao Zhen’s invitation to join the Wind and Cloud Sect. Once, the thought of entering the sect had filled him with excitement—an ambition burning since childhood. But now, after everything he had seen, the allure had dimmed. The sect no longer felt like a sanctuary of wisdom; it seemed instead a place of hidden schemes. “I must first seek my uncle Cao’s blessing, Patriarch Mao,” Wu Tian said carefully, bowing his head. “Thank you for the honor of this opportunity.” Mao Zhen’s eyes gleamed, his voice pressing. “And you, Wu Tian… do you truly desire to join the Wind and Cloud Sect?” Wu Tian’s reply was diplomatic, his tone measured. “There is not a single youth in this city who does not dream of becoming a disciple of the Wind and Cloud Sect, Patriarch Mao. It is indeed a great honor.” Mao Zhen laughed, the sound echoing through the hall like rolling thunder. “Hahaha! I knew I judged you correctly, Wu Tian. Seek your uncle’s blessing

Defeat did not humble Zhou Chen. Instead of awakening regret or clarity, it only deepened the shadows that clung to him. The aura of darkness thickened, wrapping around his body like a living shroud, feeding on his bitterness and rage. “Zhou Chen, listen to me!” Wu Tian’s voice rang out, urgent and raw. “You can still turn back. There is still a path to redemption!” But Zhou Chen’s eyes gleamed with defiance, his lips curling into a twisted smile. “I don’t want redemption. I don’t need the so-called righteous path. I am satisfied with what I have now. Darkness gives me strength without limits!” Wu Tian’s chest tightened. He had never imagined that his participation in the Wind and Cloud Sect’s selection would unravel Zhou Chen’s spirit so completely. Rejection had twisted him, and the Shadow Cultivator’s influence had seeped into his soul, corrupting what remained of his humanity. The battle paused as Zhou Chen staggered, his wounds forcing him to catch his breath. Blood dripp