Ye Yu’s words were not a spur-of-the-moment excuse for Nangong Yantian—they were his explanation to everyone: yesterday’s slaughter of the Burial Gods Alliance was entirely Xie Buyu’s doing and had nothing to do with him. His strength was too low; from now on, don’t call on him for dangerous tasks.
He truly wasn’t feigning modesty—he couldn’t hide his weakness any longer. As Hong Zhencheng’s reaction proved, blind confidence in him meant reckless thrusts into danger. To prevent others from acting on impulse, Ye Yu felt he had to downplay his power.
Of course, no one believed him—especially Hong Zhencheng, who insisted Ye Yu was merely trying to blend in as an ordinary member. No matter how Ye Yu protested, Zhencheng refused to listen. Fine—the words were out there: whether the Celestial King himself descended, he was at Early True God Realm; any missions above that realm should exclude him. Or perhaps there would be no future missions at all.
Ye Yu had no intention of staying long. He planned to move on to another place.
Nangong Yantian opened his right palm, producing a spirit-stone snapshot showing Ye Yu’s special-effects spectacle from yesterday. Judging by the angle, someone had filmed it from behind! Ye Yu’s scalp tingled—such dishonorable tactics! He’d risked his life holding the rear guard, and they’d secretly filmed him? Unacceptable!
Nangong Yantian suppressed his stiff smile and murmured, “Fellow Daoist, why hide your true cultivation? Our Wuliang Hall gods are known for bold, decisive action—not timidity.” He held out a small, white jade bottle. “Don’t worry—no ulterior motives. I appreciate your aid yesterday; you saved many lives. Accept this Qianlong Ninefold Divine Pill!”
Ye Yu was surprised. The Qianlong Ninefold Divine Pill was a top-grade elixir in the Divine Realm, vastly enhancing a god’s divine power consolidation. He’d sampled it in other dreams and found it excellent—never expected Nangong Yantian to give a whole bottle. Such generosity!
Ye Yu cupped his hands in thanks. Nangong Yantian said nothing more; he turned and departed, lightly twirling his umbrella handle as if showcasing his spoils.
Once he disappeared, Ye Yu tucked the pill away and made for Elder Ge’s hall. To his surprise, Xie Buyu—the alliance leader—was there. When she saw Ye Yu, her calm eyes flickered with interest. Softly she said, “You have talent. If you have time later, come to the main hall and speak with me.”
Indeed, strength was the true measure of respect. Today’s Xie Buyu was more cordial than yesterday. Ye Yu neither accepted nor declined, simply bowed. She did not linger, and soon departed.
Before Ye Yu could speak, Elder Ge addressed him: “Young one, whether ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) you’re a dragon crossing the river or a divine serpent, heed my warning—stay clear of Nangong Yantian and Xie Buyu.”
In the Divine Realm, a “divine serpent” referred to a fearsome-looking creature that was pure show and easily broken. The comparison fit Ye Yu perfectly: after activating special effects, any onlooker saw limitless power—but in truth, he was a hollow facade.
Yet so far only Elder Ge had called him a divine serpent; everyone else believed he was a river-crossing dragon hiding his strength.
Curious, Ye Yu asked softly, “Elder Ge, you think I’m a divine serpent?”
“In my view, you are,” Elder Ge’s voice echoed within Ye Yu’s mind—Ye Yu could sense thoughts directly. “A real dragon needs no arsenal; it shatters any weapon by sheer force.”
Ye Yu marveled at the old man’s inscrutability—the perfect example of “eyes slanted, heart not slanted.” Perhaps that unorthodox gaze was his steadfast nature.
Ye Yu retrieved the resources he’d received—celestial materials and the Qianlong Ninefold Divine Pill—and recounted the morning’s events. Elder Ge examined the pill, then tossed it back.
“The pill is genuine; feel free to consume it. Nangong Yantian wouldn’t give such a treasure unless he believed you a dragon crossing the river. He admires your strength.”
Ye Yu’s face grew dark. “Elder Ge, I don’t like men.”
Elder Ge’s expression froze, but he restrained his anger. “I know—and Nangong Yantian doesn’t either. When I said ‘admires you,’ I meant your power, not you personally. You could mention the pill to Xie Buyu; she’ll regard you accordingly.”
Puzzled, Ye Yu asked why. Elder Ge reclined in his chair and began his tale:
Wuliang Hall had once been the Caihuo Sect, a third-rate alliance of weak gods. Its leader Yan Yong incurred the wrath of a great power and was mortally wounded. On his deathbed he summoned his six disciples—Xie Buyu, Zhu Qiyuan, Ma Tongtian, Dongfang Yelai, Jiang Mingtian, and Nangong Yantian. He warned them the sect must end, or its enemies would exterminate them. They were free to forge their own paths or form new small alliances—but never to seek vengeance.
With that, Yan Yong passed away, and Caihuo Sect dissolved. A century later, a new small alliance named Wuliang Hall arose in the north, with Senior Sister Xie Buyu as leader and the others as elders. From its founding, its motto in the alliance manual was simple: “Don’t submit? Fight!” And that year, the six had lived up to it.
