Chapter 430

After a brief pause, Han Li spoke slowly, under Wen Wen Qiang's hopeful gaze:

"Brother Wen, since you're now of the Miao Yin Sect, you should know I'm merely an elder in name only—I've never interfered in any sect affairs. But if what you say is true—that Sister Siyue has suffered great injustice—I'll mention it to Sister Zhao Ziling when I see her. Whether she'll listen, however, is another matter."

Wen Wen Qiang felt a flicker of disappointment upon hearing Han Li wouldn't take full responsibility.

But he knew his bond with Han Li was shallow; that Han Li had saved his daughter and gone this far already showed considerable regard for old ties, so he harbored no resentment, only gratitude, and bowed repeatedly in thanks. He urged Wen Siyue to kneel again before Han Li, but Han Li laughed and refused.

Yet Han Li seemed to have a sudden thought and asked another question.

"Isn't Sister Siyue a disciple of Right Deputy Zuo? Why didn't you bring this matter to him?"

Upon hearing this, Wen Siyue's expression darkened further, and she whispered softly:

"Master Han, you don't know—this mission was assigned to me by a close relative of my master. My master even hoped I'd form a dual-cultivation bond with him, but I refused. It made my master furious!"

As she spoke, her face bore an expression of utter helplessness—so tragically beautiful that even Han Li paused, momentarily stunned. But he quickly looked away and said to Wen Wen Qiang:

"I have other urgent matters to attend to—I can't travel with you. I'll take my leave now!"

With that, Han Li bowed to the two.

Wen Wen Qiang, of course, could not beg him to stay; after a few more words of gratitude, Han Li smiled faintly, transformed into a green streak, and shot into the sky.

Watching the green streak vanish, Wen Wen Qiang and his daughter fell silent for a while. Finally, Wen Siyue pouted:

"Father, you never told me you knew Elder Han of our sect! And from your conversation, it sounds like you knew him even before he formed his Golden Core. Can you tell me about it? To us disciples, Elder Han is so mysterious!"

As she spoke, her earlier resentment had turned into curiosity.

Hearing this, Wen Wen Qiang sighed and said, with a touch of affection:

"I only met this Master Han a few times—we weren't close. When I first knew him, his cultivation was roughly equal to mine, nothing remarkable. When I saw his portrait suddenly in the Offering Hall, I nearly jumped out of my skin—and for days afterward, my heart couldn't settle. To think he'd reached Core Formation and become our sect's elder… truly unbelievable!"

As he spoke, memories of his first meeting with Han Li surfaced in his mind, and he fell silent, lost in thought.

Seeing this, Wen Siyue seemed to know what her father was recalling, and she waited quietly beside him. The father and daughter fell still once more—only the wind rustling their robes could be heard, "whish-whish."

…

A month later, a vast, empty sea suddenly grew bustling.

Every few days, cultivators would speed toward this spot, then fly upward in utter delight.

There, floating motionless in the sky, stood a grand, colossal palace.

The palace stood about a hundred zhang tall, entirely crafted from flawless white jade, exquisitely magnificent, emitting a faint luminescence.

Around it hung a thick golden light shield, suspended a thousand zhang high. The arriving cultivators flew straight toward the palace, and with a flash of white light, passed effortlessly through the shield and entered.

One day, a green streak shot swiftly toward the area. When it reached the sea beneath the palace, it abruptly halted.

The green light faded, revealing an ordinary-looking young man—it was Han Li, who had come following the map.

He frowned at the brocade map in his hand, scanning the surroundings—but the sea was empty, nothing to be seen.

He stared long at the sea below, yet found nothing.

Han Li's expression grew even more puzzled.

Suddenly, he remembered something and looked up sharply.

"Huh."

Seeing the palace floating among the clouds like a jade pavilion, Han Li gasped, his face filled with astonishment.

He stared at the palace for a long while before snapping back to awareness.

Yet he did not rush toward it; instead, he stood still, pondering, then his expression shifted—his body flashed green, and he vanished without a trace.

Moments later, a crimson cloud shot rapidly toward the spot where Han Li had disappeared, stopping nearby.

The cloud dispersed, revealing an old man with fiery red hair, holding an identical brocade map.

He glanced at the map, scanned the surroundings with cold eyes, then looked straight up—and immediately spotted the floating palace. His face lit up with joy.

Without hesitation, the red-haired old man transformed back into a crimson cloud and soared skyward.

Only when the old man's body flashed white and slipped through the golden shield did Han Li reappear nearby.

His brow furrowed, his expression dark and uncertain.

In the following Qiba days, Han Li patiently concealed himself and watched two more Core Formation cultivators fly into the shield and enter the palace—each also holding a brocade map.

Han Li could no longer wait. One day, he flew to the edge of the golden shield, flipped his hand, and pulled out the map.

He slowly infused spiritual power into the map, and instantly, white spiritual light erupted from it, enveloping Han Li.

Then, with a light step, he passed through the golden shield as if it were air.

He glanced back at the shield, then at the magnificent palace, and without further hesitation, flew forward.

As he neared the palace, he noticed above its entrance, more than ten zhang high, three large silver ancient characters: "Xu Tian Dian."

These characters radiated overwhelming power; their brushstrokes were razor-sharp and piercing. Merely gazing at them a moment longer caused his eyes to ache faintly.

This startled him deeply—he quickly lowered his head, refusing to look again, his heart pounding with shock.

He glanced at the deep entrance of the palace, gritted his teeth, and stepped in cautiously.

Upon entering the hall, Han Li froze in surprise.

Before him stretched a narrow, straight corridor, stretching endlessly into the distance. The corridor, too, was built of translucent jade.

That alone might have been unremarkable—but the corridor was only two or three zhang wide, yet thirty to forty zhang high. Walking inside, one felt an oppressive weight on the spirit, deeply uncomfortable.

Han Li frowned, thought for a moment, then extended his spiritual sense—immediately, his expression changed slightly.

His spiritual sense struck the walls and was violently repelled, unable to penetrate even a fraction, let alone explore the palace's interior.

Han Li's eyes flashed with sharp light as he stared intently at one jade wall.

Only then did he notice faint, flickering luminescence on its surface—invisible unless examined closely.

Clearly, the entire corridor had been sealed by a powerful restriction.

Han Li extended a finger and gently traced the jade surface.

Though he couldn't identify the exact nature of the restriction, the boundless spiritual power within made his heart tremble slightly.

He silently withdrew his finger, rested his chin on his hand, and stood motionless in the corridor for a moment before stepping forward again.

Han Li squinted, moving slowly through the corridor, glancing left and right.

Since this place was sealed by restrictions, he no longer feared ambushes—he could advance boldly.

Yet this corridor, like a narrow gorge, was truly long. Han Li walked for the duration of a full meal before finally reaching its end.

Before him appeared an exit glowing with blue light.

Han Li's spirits lifted slightly; he quickened his pace and hurried forward.

What he saw next made his eyes contract and his heart leap in alarm.

Within the blue glow stood a vast, square hall.

The hall spanned three to four hundred zhang, immense and majestic—thousands could enter without crowding.

More strangely, dozens of thick jade pillars stood evenly spaced throughout the hall.

Each pillar required several men to encircle, exquisitely carved with all manner of rare birds and beasts—some Han Li had seen, others he hadn't—each lifelike, brimming with spiritual energy, none identical.

Upon the tops of some pillars sat or stood dozens of cultivators, dressed in varied robes.

Except for a few, each occupied a single pillar alone, none speaking loudly—each absorbed in their own affairs.

Han Li's arrival drew only lazy glances from a few cultivators, yet several showed clear surprise.

Han Li's face twisted into a wry smile—he recognized those few!

Wang