Yao Shen’s expression was masked by a veneer of cold composure as he gazed at Wenjun Long. Inwardly though, he was shaken.

He was no stranger to the subtle verbal dances and cloaked exchanges of swords and daggers that politics at the highest levels demanded of those seeking a seat at the table. Which was why Yao Shen immediately understood that Wenjun Long’s initial outburst followed by his show of vehement defiance was merely posturing.

Posturing that served as misdirection for the true poisoned dagger to snake past his defenses and thrust at his heart.

For Yao Shen was astute enough to read between the lines, to understand the crux of Wenjun Long’s sly declaration.

‘You are not my enemy,’ The Former Patriarch of the Divine Mountain Sect had said, his disarming words divorced from the bitter question contained within.

‘Are you really a member of the Heavenly Sky Sect?’

Try as Yao Shen may to simply banish the question, a small, lingering part of him refused to simply let it slip by unanswered.

His allegiance to the Heavenly Sky Sect had been born out of consideration to his Master, the late venerable Nascent Soul Cultivator Yufeng Hu.

Yao Shen distinctly remembered the astonishment that was written on the faces of the other outer sect disciples when an honorable member of the acclaimed Legacy Hu Family, renowned for their graceful control over the wind and their beguiling sword techniques that left even the most adroit of swordsmen struggling to reach for a counter had approached him, out of all the disciples that had gathered there.

Yao Shen had been chosen over Inner and Core Disciples that had likely surpassed him in strength and cultivation. The future had proven Yufeng Hu’s decision to be a wise one— perhaps too wise, in the eyes of the Legacy Family Patriarchs.

Most Outer and Inner Sect Disciples of the present day Sky Division were under the impression that it was Yao Shen’s iron will and perseverance alone that had drawn Yufeng Hu’s interest; so moved had been the senior cultivator by the sheer breadth of Yao Shen’s resolve that he had decided to personally take responsibility for his tutelage.

And like most recollections of history, the nuance had been lost, perhaps deliberately forgotten as Yao Shen’s legend grew.

Yufeng Hu was indeed a member of the Legacy Hu Family, just as the currently reigning Patriarch of the Hu Family, Liewei Hu was an esteemed Elder of the Wind Distribution Hall.

However, there was one, little known key difference in their statuses.

Yufeng Hu’s bloodline traced back to one of the branch families, while Liewei Hu was a descendant of the main line and was eligible to become Patriarch. The Legacy Family’s core inheritances, techniques and natural treasures were reserved to protect the purity of the main line; to maintain their hegemony within the Legacy Family through martial superiority.

Yao Shen’s master had been an outcast among the elite, denied opportunity and power solely because of a warped tradition that had been designed to suppress his family line.

Though their bond had grown into a nigh unshakable bond, the inception of their relationship had been founded upon his Master’s desire to challenge the natural order— of the Legacy Families, that had chosen to prioritize archaic norms fueled by their own paranoia over deserving merit— and of the very sect system itself, by accepting a disciple from the lowest of the low ranks and elevating him to the status of an Elder’s True Disciple.

Yao Shen supposed that said defiance had rubbed off him over the years, but the fact remained. His debt was to his master, Yunfeng Hu— the Nascent Soul Cultivator whom fate had played a cruel trick upon by allowing him merely a fraction of his true potential.

Had his Master’s enemies been cruel demonic path cultivators or miscreants from a rival sect, Yao Shen would have either cut them down or sought recompense after his establishment as a Nascent Soul powerhouse.

But ultimately, it had been his Master’s own blood relatives that had let him down. The very system that had failed him.

Yao Shen owed nothing to the Hu Family.

The Heavenly Sky Sect had provided him much, but only after he had proven himself. Proven his ability to become an asset to the Sect. And much like his master, he was never offered the best.

It was true, after all.

Yao Shen had given much to the Heavenly Sky Sect. But had the sect truly reciprocated him for his unyielding determination and willingness to protect the Sect from external enemies?

Had any of the Legacy Families volunteered their core techniques and resources to bolster the strength of the one responsible for protecting the Sect against external threats?

No, they had not.

The one Natural Treasure he had received, he had practically taken by force from Dongmei Xue.

Yao Shen understood that Wenjun Long had accepted his defeat, at least temporarily. He had also interacted enough with Reserve Elders like Zixin Ren to know that one as seasoned a veteran as Wenjun was, would never consider the possibility of even a partial compromise, if he believed the situation to be set in stone.

The Former Patriarch of the Divine Mountain Sect believed that Yao Shen could be convinced— the situation could yet be worked in his favor.

Or, it was all a ruse and the Earth Division was only biding their time until they had a real chance at rebellion.

As Yao Shen allowed himself to be led by Wenjun Long, he forced himself to think. Not of the trappings of the past, but the present. A concept that was, to one as old as Yao Shen, counted in the preceding few decades.

He vividly remembered the day he met Shadow, a vortex of inky blackness in a sea of red painting a vista that was forever etched into Yao Shen’s memory.

He couldn’t help but fondly think of Duyi’s straightforward boisterousness, a frankness built atop a truly righteous moral compass.

He recalled the amusing sequence of events that led to him appointing his third true disciple, Xiaoli.

And now, Yanyue.

The fog clouding his mind cleared and Yao Shen allowed himself a small smile, one that was gone in the blink of an eye.

The past was set in stone.

The present was his anchor, one that brought him clarity.

And the future was what he fought for, who he fought for.

With those thoughts echoing in his mind, Yao Shen stepped into a chamber that no one outside the very highest echelons of the Divine Mountain Sect had been allowed to know about, let alone enter into.

As he sucked in a cold breath of air, Yao Shen couldn’t help but think that Wenjun Long would be the least of his worries if word of this got out before the Modern Sect was ready.