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Chapter 41: Unexpected Discovery

~8 min read 1,562 words

“Liang Jingtang, your duty as master and disciple is to lead the way ahead—not to dodge and flee! If this happens again, your fate will be the same as Xiong Feiyeh’s!” Xuzhi Ji’s cold, commanding gaze forced all the martial masters to lower their heads; his eyes finally settled on Liang Jingtang.

“Yes!” Liang Jingtang replied, head bowed, his eyes deep with humiliation and fury—but he dared not show it.

An eighth-rank Great Martial Master was far too powerful—he could not possibly resist.

Seeing this, Xuzhi Ji’s expression softened slightly; after one more glance at Xia Daoming, he withdrew his gaze.

Xia Daoming’s sharp reaction had indeed surprised Xuzhi Ji—but only slightly!

His fifth-rank Great Martial Master realm was firmly established; it was not enough to stir any wild thoughts.

Seeing Liang Jingtang reprimanded and forced to continue leading the way, the surviving martial masters showed no sympathy; instead, each secretly rejoiced, and some even wore smug, malicious smiles.

Xushi Sen’s face twisted into a sneering sneer.

Xia Daoming observed every reaction, silently sneering within.

This was human nature!

The group pressed forward.

Three days later.

The group stood atop a mountain peak, gazing down.

At this point, only eighteen remained from the five factions; the Xu family still had seven.

Below lay a valley encircled by mountains.

The valley was shrouded in mist; sunlight pierced through, causing the clouds to churn, revealing only faint glimpses of the terrain below.

“Below lies Cold Mist Valley—our destination,” Xuzhi Ji said, his gaze serious yet tinged with excitement.

Hearing this, everyone’s hearts trembled; their expressions grew solemn as they strained to peer downward, as if willing themselves to part the mist and see clearly.

Only Xia Daoming seemed distracted.

He did not focus his gaze downward like the others; instead, he gazed far off at three distant peaks with quiet excitement.

Those three peaks stood like three towering emerald swords piercing the sky—exactly matching the faded, torn map Liu Qiaolian had given him.

“I never expected—by sheer accident—I’d find the place where the Dragon-Transformation Fruit grows!” Xia Daoming’s heart surged.

The Dragon-Transformation Fruit was the key to his becoming a Grandmaster!

Yet Xia Daoming quickly stilled his emotions and joined the others in gazing downward.

As the saying goes: “Seeing a mountain doesn’t mean you’re close to it!”

Those three sword-like peaks looked near, but no one knew how many more ridges they must cross or how many dangers they must endure to reach them.

Xia Daoming was only sixth-rank; even though his strength far surpassed that of ordinary sixth-rank Great Martial Masters, he dared not venture alone into those ridges.

For now, his urgent priority was to obtain Cold Rabbit and Cold Purple Shouwu, and quickly reinforce his meridians and elevate his cultivation.

“Haste makes waste—stay calm, stay calm!” Xia Daoming muttered to himself as he stared downward.

“Liang Jingtang, you two go down first!” Xuzhi Ji ordered coldly.

“Yes!” Liang Jingtang nodded, then stepped closer to Xia Daoming and whispered, “Be careful, Daoming.”

“You too, Master!” Xia Daoming nodded.

With that, the two walked to the cliff’s edge.

Below, the sheer cliff dropped over ten zhang; they would need ropes or vines to descend.

Further down, through the mist, the slope grew gentler—safe enough to climb down by hand.

Old vines hung from the cliff’s edge; no additional ropes were needed.

“I’ll go first, then you follow,” Liang Jingtang said, stepping forward to grasp a vine.

Before he could finish speaking, Xia Daoming had already leaped forward, seized the vine, and slid down it.

“Brat!” Liang Jingtang cursed, then grabbed a vine and leaped after him.

“You all go down now!” Xuzhi Ji said, watching Liang Jingtang and Xia Daoming vanish into the mist below as they carefully climbed the gentle slope; he turned to the others, voice calm.

“Ancestor, the mist below obscures everything—wouldn’t it be safer to wait until Liang Jingtang and his disciple scout the path?” asked an elderly sixth-rank Great Martial Master, nearly seventy, cautiously.

“Yes, yes!” The other martial masters echoed.

Xuzhi Ji said nothing; his icy gaze swept over them, finally settling on the elderly man. “Yan Shushan, take your men down first. The rest follow.”

Yan Shushan’s face paled; his lips moved, but he finally nodded helplessly. “Yes, Ancestor.”

Soon, Yan Shushan and his two disciples descended along the vines.

Seeing Yan Shushan’s fate, the other martial masters dared not protest; they followed one by one.

The seven Xu family members descended last.

Beneath the mist.

Xia Daoming and Liang Jingtang carefully descended the steep slope.

The slope was not only steep, but patches of mist had frozen into ice, making it dangerously slippery.

After cautious progress, the master and disciple reached the valley floor without incident.

The valley was thick with mist; visibility was poor.

Worse still, the mist clung to their skin, freezing cold.

Fortunately, both were sixth-rank Great Martial Masters; their internal qi and blood flow kept them warm.

They looked around, waiting for the others to arrive and regroup.

“Ahh!”

A scream shattered the valley’s silence.

Then—*thud!*

Someone tumbled down from above, blood and brain matter splattering across the ground.

It was a fourth-rank martial master.

“Another one!”

Liang Jingtang stared at the gruesome corpse thirty feet away and sighed softly.

“Master, watch out!”

At that moment, Xia Daoming cried out, his spear lashing out like a dragon.

*Clang!*

An ice arrow was struck midair, exploding into shards that rained down.

In the mist nearby, a white shadow flashed and vanished.

Liang Jingtang’s face turned pale; he instinctively wiped sweat from his brow.

He had been distracted—had Xia Daoming not reacted so swiftly, he would have been struck.

“You’ve saved my life again,” Liang Jingtang whispered, his gaze toward Xia Daoming filled with complex emotion.

The stronger a martial artist’s qi and blood, the higher their realm, the keener their senses—especially their awareness of danger, far beyond ordinary men.

Along this journey, it had always been master and disciple leading the way.

Naturally, they encountered more dangers than others.

It was not strange that Xia Daoming had warned him once or twice.

But nearly every time, Xia Daoming sensed danger before he did—that was strange.

“They’re coming!” Xia Daoming whispered, his eyes scanning the surroundings warily.

Liang Jingtang paused, then indeed heard the sound of martial masters stepping onto the ground.

He glanced at Xia Daoming again, surprised—but said nothing.

“Master Liang, what’s the situation?” From the mist, the nearly seventy-year-old Yan Shushan approached with his two disciples.

“There are Cold Rabbits here—they’ve already fired ice arrows at us. We must not act rashly; wait until everyone arrives before making plans,” Liang Jingtang said gravely.

“I hope all goes well,” Yan Shushan replied, his expression tightening.

Soon, the martial masters arrived one by one; the seven Xu family members were the last.

“At the valley’s center lies a cold pool; Cold Rabbits usually gather near it. Adult Cold Rabbits, though lacking intelligence, possess raw combat power so great that even I would not claim victory in direct confrontation.”

“So we cannot charge in en masse—if we alarm a whole pack, we’ll all die here.”

“Then what do we do?” asked a sixth-rank martial master, pale-faced.

“The main group stays here to set traps. One person goes to lure one or two Cold Rabbits into the trap. Once they’re caught, we strike together.”

With that, Xuzhi Ji slowly scanned the group.

All martial masters paled, lowering their heads in silence.

Joking? Juvenile Cold Rabbits were equivalent to fifth- or sixth-rank Great Martial Masters; adults matched seventh- or eighth-rank.

Entering their den alone was no different than a lamb walking into a wolf pack.

Nine times out of ten, the rabbit wouldn’t be lured—but the man would be left behind.

“Heh, Granduncle, Liang Jingtang and his disciple have shown remarkable alertness on this journey—clearly, the task of luring the rabbits falls to them!” Xushi Sen’s gaze was sinister as he stared at the pair.

“Exactly, exactly!” Many martial masters quickly agreed.

Even Yan Shushan and his two disciples joined in.

As long as it wasn’t them.

Xuzhi Ji said nothing, only cast a cold glance toward Liang Jingtang and Xia Daoming.

“I’ll go first,” Liang Jingtang said, face grim.

“I’m the disciple—I don’t need my master risking himself!” Before Liang Jingtang could even rise and step toward the thickest mist, Xia Daoming had leaped up, vanished into the fog with a few bounds.

“Daoming!” Liang Jingtang cried, springing after him to follow into the mist.

“Liang Jingtang, return! More people won’t help—if your disciple fails, you can go after him!” Xuzhi Ji had already blocked Liang Jingtang’s path, voice cold.

"Good!" Liang Jingtang stepped back, his face ashen, fists clenched tight, veins bulging across his hands.

PS: This book’s upload time was poorly chosen, causing the recommendation to arrive late; last week was its first trial push. Readers were incredibly supportive—during the first trial push on Sunday, this book rose to number one on the Immortal Fantasy Signed New Books chart. Thank you so much.

Please continue supporting this week—try to bookmark and follow regularly, and if you have time, leave more reviews to boost activity.

Since Monday is a ranking battle, the first update has been moved to midnight; the second update remains at noon. Tomorrow’s updates will return to normal schedule.

End of Chapter

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