As time passed, the icy cold light emanating from the Bingxuan Sect grew even more intense, and the crowd gathered around the sect swelled. Some arrived by sword flight, others rode mounts, and still others came in grand carriages pulled by spirit beasts.
At that moment, on the outermost edge of the massive iceberg formed by the Bingxuan Sect, many grand carriages drawn by spirit beasts were parked. They came in all shapes and sizes, pulled by steeds, tigers, wolves, lions, and leopards—none were ordinary beasts, but spirit beasts cultivated over many years.
Among these numerous spirit beast carriages was one drawn by four horses.
This carriage was rather unremarkable. Neither the four horses pulling it nor the carriage itself looked particularly special; in fact, it seemed somewhat worn. The driver was neither handsome nor beautiful, but a short, somewhat rotund fellow.
This dwarf stood just over a meter tall, wearing a custom-tailored robe and a bamboo hat. He stood properly to the side, not speaking, just standing there.
Inside the carriage sat a young man.
The man wore clean, neat white robes, his black hair loosely draped. His face, fairly handsome, bore a somewhat lazy expression. He looked young, yet his entire being lacked the vigorous vitality expected of youth. On the contrary, he exuded more of an aura of twilight.
This twilight aura was like the setting sun, like dusk itself, as if darkness could descend at any moment.
He leaned against the carriage, sitting casually with his legs crossed, sipping wine while occasionally glancing at the cold light of the Bingxuan Sect.
Clean white robes, a handsome face.
A lazy demeanor, a twilight temperament.
Under the dusk, before the night, the breeze was not a breeze, the man was ancient.
If not Gu Qingfeng, then who could it be?
He had come.
His time of arrival was neither long nor short.
Before coming, he had been very hesitant, pondering a question for several days.
That was whether he should come, and what he would do if he did.
For others, this might be a simple question, but for Gu Qingfeng, it held extraordinary significance.
Because this matter concerned his Karma.
One Yun Nishang.
One Hongxiu.
One Ouyang Ye.
Many signs indicated he had an unusual Karmic connection to this affair.
If it were merely simple Karma, Gu Qingfeng wouldn't have hesitated so much. The key was the old monk's mention of the 'Sea of Bitterness,' which truly unsettled him.
Back in the Nine Nethers, he had once heard an old demon mention the Sea of Bitterness and knew of it by repute. It was said that many great powers in the world had sought to trace their own Karma. The purpose was simple: Karma's existence was too complex, encompassing all phenomena. The three thousand Great Daos and all Laws fell within Karma. If one could comprehend Karma, then deducing the Great Dao and the Laws would naturally follow.
However.
Karma was ultimately Karma, hailed as the Great Dao among Great Daos, the Law among Laws, the root of all things.
Many great powers, in their tracing, would inexplicably fall into a strange cycle—a Karmic cycle. Once trapped, they could not leave, could not escape, could not break free. They would only sink deeper, patching more only to create more chaos, creating more chaos only to patch more, severing more only for more to appear, the more appearing the more they severed... repeating endlessly.
This was the so-called Sea of Bitterness.
The old monk said that if the path of Karma had an end, then it was the Sea of Bitterness.
The old monk said, the Sea of Bitterness has no shore; turn back and you reach the bank.
After much thought, Gu Qingfeng ultimately came.
First, he truly wanted to understand what Karmic connection existed between him and Yun Nishang.
Second, he felt that aside from investigating his own Karma, there seemed to be nothing else to do.
Third, since he happened to be around, he might as well come.
That was all.
...
On the massive iceberg formed by the Bingxuan Sect, the elders led by True Person Yuhua stood quietly. In addition, the Bingxuan Sect's eighteen chief disciples and nine direct disciples also stood silently surrounding that cold light.
At the very front stood a woman—a woman with striking beauty, draped in colorful light, her body shimmering with frost.
Everyone knew her.
She was precisely the Bingxuan Sect's new Sect Head, Leng Yanqiu.
Just then, the crowd erupted in commotion. A group of people could be seen flying grandly through the air toward them. Everyone focused their eyes—good heavens, they were all members of the Bingxuan Sect's Qianzheng Hall, and they were all famous experts like Wei Hong, Fang Chen, and others.
Without exception, these individuals were all first-generation Prism geniuses after the Great Calamity, having opened four bands of Great Nature Prisms, most of them Purple Prisms. There were hundreds of them.
Moreover, over a dozen commanders of various ranks from Qianzheng Hall had also come. Since they could become commanders of Qianzheng Hall, their cultivation and strength were naturally unparalleled. Indeed, the commanders of Qianzheng Hall were uniformly Prism geniuses, but they had opened not Purple Prisms, but Cyan Prisms.
The mysteries of the Great Nature Prisms grew more powerful and profound with each level.
One band was Common.
Two bands were Gold.
Three bands were Purple.
Four bands were Cyan.
The dozen-plus commanders of Qianzheng Hall all possessed Great Nature Cyan Prisms, their strength fearsomely high.
Was that all?
No!
Rumor had it that these Qianzheng Hall commanders' cultivation had all reached the ninth revolution of the Golden Core stage.
Among those who came, the leader was a man who appeared around thirty years old, wearing light cyan robes and a faint, gentle smile, appearing quite scholarly.
This man was named Si Qianhua, the Hall Master of Qianzheng Hall.
The Nine-Hua Alliance had eighty-one halls.
Those who could become Hall Masters all possessed great backgrounds, great status, and great capabilities.
Some Hall Masters' names were thunderous, shaking the four directions, while others' names represented a kind of low profile.
Si Qianhua was such a case.
No one knew what cultivation level Hall Master Si Qianhua of Qianzheng Hall possessed, nor what his strength was like. No one knew anything, because no one had ever seen him make a move.
Not only did others not know.
Even Wei Qing, who had lurked within the Nine-Hua Alliance for a hundred years, did not know.
Wei Qing knew the Nine-Hua Alliance had many mysterious existences, and this Si Qianhua was one of them.
"Sect Head Leng, congratulations," Si Qianhua said, arriving borne by the wind. He stood with hands clasped behind his back, smiling faintly, appearing calm and composed.
"Lord Qianhua."
Leng Yanqiu turned. Her beautiful face held a slightly arrogant expression as she looked at Si Qianhua and replied coolly, "It's been a while."
The dozen-plus commanders and hundreds of geniuses of Qianzheng Hall stood in the air, while only Si Qianhua and over a dozen old men landed on the Bingxuan Sect's iceberg. No one knew who these dozen-plus old men were; each wore an expressionless face as they followed behind Si Qianhua.
Si Qianhua walked forward, gazing at the cold light at the very center of the Bingxuan Sect. Then he closed his eyes, as if sensing something. After a moment, he slowly opened them, the smile at the corner of his mouth growing even richer. He chuckled and said, "Present the Taiyin Seed to Sect Head Leng."
As his words fell, an old man stepped forward, holding a Taiyin Seed, and offered it.