Spirit Ruin, Sword Coffin, Blind Swordsman

Ji Yuchuan froze, not expecting Li Guanqi to explain the meaning behind his name. “Your knowledge is remarkable. You’re the first to ever interpret my name.”

Ji Yuchuan didn’t show too much enthusiasm. Li Guanqi simply smiled and continued walking to the highest seat.

Once Li Guanqi sat down, Ji Yuchuan lowered his head, silently toying with the teacup. Li Guanqi was in no hurry. He chatted casually with Ji Yuchuan, drifting between serious and lighthearted topics.

“Fellow Daoist Ji, do you practice the sword? Uh… I mean, do you fight with a sword?” Li Guanqi asked.

“I don’t fight with a sword. I fight with the brush.”

“Oh, is the brush a good weapon? Also, how many family members do you have? Any Dao partners?”

“Just one.”

“Ah… what a pity. My wife is beautiful. By the way, are you a local?”

“Yes…”

Behind him, Song Yunshu struggled to suppress a laugh, her face flushing red.Over a hundred empty chairs stretched out in front of Li Guanqi, the long table running so far that the seats at the back blurred into shadow. After sitting down, Li Guanqi lit an incense stick on the table. Ji Yuchuan’s expression softened at the sight of it, his smile widening. This was precisely why he’d been willing to talk. He wanted to see what Li Guanqi would do during the meeting. He was genuinely curious.

Tu Yongsi sat opposite Ji Yuchuan, hands clasped and eyes closed, appearing uninterested.

Li Guanqi glanced at the incense, now halfway burned, and his smile widened. To Ji Yuchuan, the smile carried an unsettling intensity.

Just as Ji Yuchuan braced for a spectacle, Li Guanqi shifted the conversation. His pure white eyes locked onto Ji Yuchuan, and he said quietly, “Are you the only one in the Blue Tower?”

Ji Yuchuan, a cultivator at the peak of the early Illusory Refinement Realm practitioner, felt as if a giant hand had gripped him tightly. Li Guanqi hadn’t used any techniques. A single glance and his sheer presence alone sent shockwaves through Ji Yuchuan’s mind.

Only then did Tu Yongsi speak. “Old Ji is indeed the only one in the Blue Tower. All others ranked above a hall master are his clones.”

Understanding dawned on Li Guanqi’s face, his eyes softening as he smiled.

“Ah, see? I misunderstood you, fellow Daoist Ji. How embarrassing. My mistake, my mistake. Care for a drink?”

To everyone’s surprise, Li Guanqi stood and sat down right next to Ji Yuchuan.

Ji Yuchuan was dumbfounded. That seat belonged to Jiang Yi, master of the Purple Tower.

Even Tu Yongsi’s eyes flickered. A faint smile tugged at his lips before he calmly closed his eyes again.

Li Guanqi pulled out the spirit wine he had brought from the Falling Sunset Territory and poured Ji Yuchuan a cup.

“Pavilion Master, I don’t drink…”

“You don’t drink? That won’t do. We’re just having a little. Look, this cup barely even has a quarter of wine. I’ve been holding this cup for ages, and I misunderstood you earlier. I’m sincerely apologizing. How can you not drink?”

Li Guanqi continued, “Come on, I’ll refill it for you. Take it slow, take it slow.”

Ji Yuchuan couldn’t resist Li Guanqi’s insistent hospitality. Bit by bit, the wine disappeared, and the conversation flowed.

Li Guanqi glanced at the incense. Only a third remained, yet he continued drinking with Ji Yuchuan at an unhurried pace.

Creak!

The hall doors swung open. A stout man in an ornate brocade robe stepped in, a golden crown on his head. He plastered a smile on and bowed to Li Guanqi. “I am Yuan Hongyi of the Yellow Tower. Greetings, Pavilion Master. My apologies for the delay. I was too far away and only just managed to return. Please forgive me.”

His eyes were little more than slits in his plump face. Seeing Li Guanqi casually pouring wine for Ji Yuchuan, his heart skipped a beat. Have Ji Yuchuan and Li Guanqi already formed an alliance? That sickly man doesn’t even touch alcohol, and he’s drinking with an outsider?

Li Guanqi lazily reclined in his seat and smiled. “It’s not your fault, Old Yuan. You were away. It’s understandable. Come, sit.”

Yuan Hongyi bowed in acknowledgment, then quietly took a seat next to Tu Yongsi.

He folded his hands in his sleeves and sat across from Li Guanqi, watching the pair drink with a smile. With Yuan Hongyi’s arrival, the hall began to fill. Even his son, Yuan Hao, was present. Nearly everyone with authority in the other four towers had arrived.

After everyone was seated, Li Guanqi stopped drinking with Ji Yuchuan and began to drink on his own.

Though the grand hall was brightly lit, the atmosphere was heavy and tense. No one spoke or whispered. A hush fell over the room, with every gaze fixed on the table before them, as if its carved patterns held a captivating beauty that commanded their attention.

Li Guanqi glanced at the nearly burned-out incense, tapping his fingers on the table.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

The dull knocks seemed to echo in the chests of those present, and more than a few faces went pale. They realized in horror that their heartbeats had begun to sync with Li Guanqi’s rhythm.

As he slowed the taps, more faces darkened, their skin turning a purplish-red. His fingers hovered in the air for over ten breaths.

Just as the incense ash was about to fall, a gentle, apologetic voice rang out. “I am Jiang Yi of the Purple Tower. Something delayed me on my way back. Please forgive me.”

Li Guanqi turned toward the door, his raised fingers still unmoved. Some cultivators of mid-tier realms were already bleeding from their noses and mouths, veins bulging. They were clearly at their limit.

Tap!

A single, light sound echoed through the hall, followed by heavy, staggered breathing.

Li Guanqi looked at the vigorous elder, and a distant glint flashed in his eyes. “Oh? Is everyone from the Purple Tower always this busy? Master Jiang, you’re quite arrogant…”

Jiang Yi’s expression remained calm, his tone indifferent as he said, “The Purple Tower handles intelligence across the Six Territories. Of course it’s busy.”

The rebuttal came sharp and firm, but then Jiang Yi shifted tack. “I did hear a bit of news on the way, though. I got held up over a small matter.”

Li Guanqi gave him a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Oh? What kind of matter could hold you up?”

Jiang Yi’s lips curved into an inscrutable smile. He tore open the space before him and dragged out a half-dead figure in black. The man’s arm had been severed, the wound scorched black. Lingering sword qi and traces of lightning still crackled there.

Li Guanqi’s face betrayed nothing, but his mind raced.