Dual Cultivation: Gathering SSS-Rank Wives in the Cultivation World

Chapter 711: Chapter 711- What is this?

’But different. This one is not a parasite. Not a possessive entity. The boy is the vessel, not the parasite. The force chose him, not consumed him. He is genuine.’

’Unlike Sun Wuji... a reincarnation placed as backup plan? What a plot.’

’In this town to mature till Sun wuji played in body of Lin Feng. In this academy. Then he must hide forbidden knowledge from the outside world, and he can do it only if he becomes the son of...’

His gold-crimson eyes lifted. From the burn mark. From the stone. Through the crowd. Through the barrier.

To the woman in the back.

Madam Yueying felt the gaze. The weight of those gold-crimson eyes, even at a distance, even through the crowd, pressed against her spiritual sense. Her peak Golden Core qi recoiled. Her dantian trembled. Her knees buckled.

She caught herself. Her hands, at her sides, clenched. Her fingernails dug into her palms. The pain, sharp, grounded her.

’He’s looking at me. He’s looking right at me. He knows. He knows my son is the source. He knows I’m the mother. He knows everything.’

’What do I do? What do I do?’

Tianlong stood. His formal attire, the dark silk and crimson rope, settled. He turned. Not toward the delegation. Toward the barrier. He walked.

The procession followed. The sect leaders, the Soul Formation women, the Core Formation guards. The formation barrier, as he approached, dissolved. The golden qi wall, the formation array that had blocked access, simply ceased to exist. The diagrams on the stone went dark. The spiritual energy dissipated.

He walked through. Into the delegation.

The mayor, standing at the front, nearly collapsed. His round face was white. His knees were shaking. His hands, extended in a gesture of greeting, trembled.

Tianlong stopped before him. His gold-crimson eyes, looking down at the short, round man, held no hostility. No warmth. The neutral assessment of a being examining something unremarkable.

"Are you the mayor of this town?" he said.

His voice was calm. Conversational. The tone of a man asking for directions.

Mayor Chen Hu’s mouth opened. The words, the formal greeting he had rehearsed, the pleasantries he had prepared, died in his throat. His eyes, looking up at the tall, golden-skinned man, at the gold-crimson eyes, at the divine qi radiating from his body, went wide.

"Y-yes," the mayor managed. "I am Mayor Chen Hu of Qinghe. Welcome, Lord Immortal. Our town is honored by your presence. We..."

He bowed. Deep. The bow of a mortal before a god. His round body bent, his hat falling off, his forehead nearly touching the ground.

"Please," the mayor said, his voice muffled by his position. "Anything you need. Anything. Qinghe is at your service."

Tianlong looked at the bowing man. His gold-crimson eyes held mild amusement. The reaction of a mortal, the groveling, the fear, the submission, was familiar. Expected. Almost endearing in its ordinariness.

"Rise," he said.

The mayor rose. His round face was flushed. Sweat ran down his temples.

"Tell me about this town," Tianlong said. His voice was casual. As though he were a tourist inquiring about local attractions.

The mayor, grasping at the normalcy of the request, launched into his rehearsed presentation. His voice, initially trembling, steadied as he spoke. The familiar words, the civic pride, the statistics and history, gave him something to hold onto.

"Qinghe was founded four hundred years ago, Lord Immortal. It began as a trading post at the base of the Jade Mountain. The mountain’s spiritual energy, the natural qi veins that run through the stone, attracted cultivators. The trading post grew into a village. The village grew into a town. Today, Qinghe has a population of fifty thousand, with three thousand cultivators among them."

He gestured behind him. At the town elders.

"These are the elders of our six guilds. The alchemist guild, led by Elder Mo. The blacksmith guild, led by Elder Fang. The merchant guild, led by Elder Qian. The formation guild, led by Elder Shu. The beast taming guild, led by Elder Yan. And the healing guild, led by Elder Lin."

Each elder, as they were named, bowed. Their faces, pale and tight, held expressions of controlled terror.

"And these," the mayor continued, gesturing to the academy heads, "are the heads of our seven academies. Headmaster Zhou of the Jade River Academy. Headmaster Lei of the Blazing Sword Academy. Headmaster Guo of the Iron Mountain Academy. Headmistress Tang of the Lotus Pavilion Academy. Headmaster Bai of the Cloud Forest Academy. Headmaster Sun of the Starfall Academy."

He paused. His hand, trembling, indicated the final figure.

"And Madam Yueying. Headmistress of the Crimson Peak Academy."

Tianlong’s gold-crimson eyes found her.

The name, the introduction, the formal identification, was all he needed. His gaze, already knowing, already aware, locked onto the thick woman at the back of the delegation.

Madam Yueying felt the gaze. The full, undivided attention of a being whose divine qi pressed against the mountain, the town, the entire region. The weight of that attention, focused solely on her, was physical. Her peak Golden Core qi stuttered. Her dantian, her golden core, the cultivation base she had spent thirty years building, trembled like a candle in a storm.

She bowed. Deep. Deeper than the mayor. Deeper than the elders. Her thick body, the formal robes pulling across her breasts and hips as she bent, lowered. Her forehead touched the ground. The stone was cold against her skin. The sweat on her temples mixed with the dust.

"Lord Immortal," she whispered. Her rich voice was thin. Barely audible. "This humble one greets you."

Her thoughts were screaming.

’He knows. He knows. He knows. The burn mark. The energy. The forbidden technique. My son. He knows. He’s looking at me and he knows. Why else would he look at me? Why else would he single me out? The mayor, the elders, the other academy heads, he barely glanced at them. But me. He looked at me. He’s looking at me now. He knows.’

’Please. Please don’t ask. Please don’t...’

"Madam Yueying," Tianlong said. Her name, in his voice, in the calm, conversational tone of a man who was not asking but confirming, fell into the silence.

"Yes, Lord Immortal," she said. Her face was still on the ground. Her voice was shaking.

Tianlong’s gold-crimson eyes held her. The thick body, bowed, the formal robes straining across her curves, the dark hair pinned with silver, the beautiful mature face pressed to the stone. The fear, the absolute, overwhelming fear, radiated from her in waves.

He smiled. The smile was small. Knowing.

"You and the mayor," he said. "Follow me."

He turned. He walked. Back toward the plateau. Back toward the burn mark. Back toward the center of the mountain.

Mayor Chen Hu, his round face white, looked at Madam Yueying. She looked back. Their eyes met. The shared terror, the mutual incomprehension, the desperate, unspoken question of two people who had been summoned by a god and could not refuse.

They followed.

The soldiers parted. The sect leaders parted. The delegation was left behind. The three of them, the immortal, the mayor, and the headmistress, walked across the plateau. Past the ships. Past the soldiers. Past the Soul Formation women who stood at the edge of the burn mark, watching.

They reached the center.

Tianlong stopped. He stood at the edge of the purple scar. His gold-crimson eyes looked down. At the mark. At the altered stone. At the residual energy.

He turned to the mayor. To the headmistress.

"Do you know what this is?" he said.