Chapter 535: Turn Their Scheme Against Them!!

The Western Heaven Dao lies in the western reaches of the Zhou Realm, requiring passage through Jiannan Dao, then crossing Hannan Dao and Xiangnan Dao—a long and arduous journey.

Even with Chen Mu's Tiangong realm cultivation, pushing full speed, it would take no small amount of time; moreover, he must also accommodate Ning Zhixi's and Zhuqing Daoren's pace, as well as anticipate possible disturbances along the way.

They traveled westward.

Chen Mu suppressed most of his Tiangong realm aura, revealing only the Di Tan realm's "Perceiving the Divine, Unbreakable" cultivation level; Ning Zhixi and Zhuqing Daoren likewise altered their appearances and concealed their qi, striving to avoid notice.

They did not choose to fly through the air.

Amid the context of the orthodox-magic great war, aerial flight was too conspicuous and invited unwanted attention.

More often, they opted for swift overland travel along relatively secluded routes, or moved under cover of night.

Yet shortly after entering Hannan Dao's territory, Chen Mu sensed an unusual trace.

In the northwestern reaches of Hannan Dao, at the edge of a rugged mountain region known as "Heifeng Ridge."

Chen Mu halted beside a seemingly ordinary mountain path, collapsed by flash floods.

"Brother Chen, have you found something?" Ning Zhixi glanced warily around.

Chen Mu crouched, his fingertip brushing the fractured edge of a fallen boulder.

On the fracture, there was an extremely faint, nearly imperceptible charred mark; along its edge, a trace of weak demonic qi lingered.

This demonic qi was not naturally residual—it resembled a tracking or marking technique, deliberately diluted.

"The Xuemo Sect's 'Blood-Branded Yin.'"

Chen Mu spoke slowly, his gaze chilling, "A highly concealed tracking mark, requiring special blood mixed with demonic energy to cast. It adheres to objects the target passes over—or even residual qi in the air—leaving a signature detectable only by the caster and their sect members. Judging by the freshness, it's no more than a day old."

Upon hearing this, Zhuqing Daoren immediately drew out the "Jia Mu Ling Xin," focusing her senses on the surroundings.

After a moment, her delicate brows furrowed: "Besides this faint demonic qi of the 'Blood-Branded Yin,' there seems to be another, even more subtle and yin-soft qi—but far more refined and concealed. Had Brother Chen not pointed out the Xuemo Sect's trace, I would have missed this anomaly entirely."

"More than one faction."

Chen Mu rose, his gaze sweeping over the surrounding woods.

His spiritual sense spread like molten mercury, meticulously probing every inch of land and every wisp of qi within a radius of dozens of li.

Soon, he uncovered more clues.

"Xuemo Sect, Jiuyou Sect…"

Chen Mu listed his findings one by one, his voice calm, yet sending a chill through Ning Zhixi and Zhuqing Daoren.

So many factions were secretly tracking them?

Or rather—tracking the "Four Seasons Key"?

"When we left the secret realm, we were careful—we erased all traces…" Ning Zhixi frowned.

"It may not have begun at the secret realm's exit."

Zhuqing Daoren mused, "Perhaps when we obtained the 'Spring Key,' or even earlier, during our clash with the Mo Sect, certain factions had already marked or surveilled us through special means."

Chen Mu nodded, agreeing with this assessment.

"Judging by the distribution and freshness of these traces, they are not allied—they act independently, wary of each other, which is why they use such concealed methods to leave marks, so that their own disciples can track them."

Chen Mu concluded, "They are merely tracking now, not daring to act rashly. But if we continue westward into Xiangnan Dao, especially as we near Western Heaven Dao, they will likely lose patience."

"Then what should we do now? Lose them? Or…" Ning Zhixi asked.

"Losing them wouldn't be hard, but since we've been marked, fleeing only looks guilty—and may invite stronger pursuit."

Chen Mu paused, thinking, "Better to turn their scheme against them."

"Turn their scheme against them?"

"Precisely." Chen Mu's eyes flashed with cold light. "If they want to track us, let them. We accelerate, heading straight for Western Heaven Dao. Along the way, we choose a suitable 'place'—see how many 'friends' follow, and what kind of fools they are. If an opportunity arises, we cut down some tails—save ourselves trouble later."

Zhuqing Daoren and Ning Zhixi understood Chen Mu's plan.

Lure the snake out of its hole, turn the tables.

With Chen Mu's Tiangong realm strength, as long as he wasn't surrounded by multiple peers or confronted by a legendary Wan Xiang realm cultivator, he could handle nearly any scenario.

This was the perfect chance to identify which factions secretly coveted the "Four Seasons Secret Treasury," and perhaps even glean more information about it.

"Then we follow Young Master Chen's plan," Zhuqing Daoren nodded.

"We increase our pace. No need to conceal our trail completely—but don't reveal our full strength either."

Chen Mu said, "Miss Ning, Master Zhuqing, stay close to me."

Immediately, the three no longer moved with caution. They slightly increased their speed, no longer avoiding populated areas entirely, occasionally even passing near small towns—but their movements remained elusive, hard to predict.

Chen Mu detached a thread of spiritual sense, constantly sensing movements behind and to the flanks—like the most patient hunter, waiting for prey to reveal more flaws.

Thus they traveled for several more days, entering Xiangnan Dao's territory.

Xiangnan Dao was mountainous and malarial, with fierce folkways and overlapping orthodox-magic factions—far more chaotic than Hannan Dao.

Along the way, traces of demonic cultivators increased noticeably; in remote mountain regions, small bands of Mo Sect bandits had begun attacking villages and plundering merchant caravans.

That evening, the three reached a treacherous gorge known as "Luohun Gorge."

The gorge's cliffs rose sheer and jagged, with only a narrow plank path winding between them; below, a roaring, bottomless torrent surged with thunderous sound.

This terrain was a vital chokepoint between Xiangnan Dao and Western Heaven Dao—and precisely because of its peril, it had become an ideal lair for bandits and assassins.

Chen Mu and the others stepped onto the ancient plank path, barely wide enough for two horses to pass side by side.

The path, suspended by thick iron cables and wooden planks, clung to one cliffside, while the other side dropped into a chasm thousands of zhang deep; the churning torrent below roared like the breath of a great beast, pounding against their eardrums.

"This place is heavy with malevolent qi, saturated with lingering resentment—likely an ancient site of slaughter."

Zhuqing Daoren held the "Jia Mu Ling Xin," its jade emitting a soft green glow, dispelling the invisible cold and spiritual corrosion around them.

Yet even so, walking the swaying plank path still sent shivers down the spine.

Ning Zhixi also remained alert; she keenly sensed that, beyond the natural perilous aura, faint, disparate waves lingered in the air—new and old, mingled with wind and water, easily overlooked unless deliberately sought.

Chen Mu walked at the front, his steps steady, as if treading a flat road.

His spiritual sense had already spread like an invisible web, silently enveloping the entire gorge and the cliffs above for dozens of li.

Every movement and sound was under control.

As the plank road reached its midpoint, a relatively open platform, naturally hollowed from the mountainside, appeared before them.

The platform was small, roughly ten zhang square, seemingly meant for travelers to rest, yet now empty, with only a few massive stones, smoothed by wind and rain, scattered about.

The instant the three stepped onto the platform—

Sudden transformation!