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Jiang Yuezhan was abducted on the outskirts of West Street.

He strolled through the city as planned. As he passed a courtyard wall that had half-collapsed, an extremely faint sound of footsteps suddenly appeared behind him.

He did not look back and continued forward. As he passed an alley entrance, he caught a glimpse of a shadow flickering in the corner of his eye.

When he reached a narrow alley, a cloth soaked in medicinal vapor covered his nose and mouth from behind. He held his breath and struggled twice before his body went limp. It was a drug specifically designed for cultivators...

By the time he woke up, the light before his eyes was dim and murky.

He lay in an underground space, the scent of damp earth and an indescribable smell of decay filling his nose.

He closed his eyes, choosing not to open them immediately. Beneath him was a rough stone floor, the air damp and stagnant. He could hear the faint crackling of a burning oil lamp and the breathing patterns of two people.

One was heavy and ragged, as if they were ill; the other was steady and even, sounding like a cultivator.

He slowly opened his eyes, slightly rolling them to scan his surroundings.

Then, he saw a scene he never wanted to recall again.

A humanoid thing sat cross-legged on a stone platform not far from him.

It could only tentatively be called ‘humanoid,’ because aside from his head, his entire body was covered in twisted, horrific burn scars. His skin and muscle looked as though they had been repeatedly scorched by high temperatures, only to scab, crack open, and scab over again, piling up in layer upon layer.

His limbs curled in an unnatural posture, making him look as though he had lost the ability to move entirely.

Half of his face was severely burned, the eyelid of one eye fused shut, while his other eye stared straight ahead.

That gaze was a mixture of agony and something deeper—

Standing beside him was a stout figure in a gray robe. Lowering his voice to a whisper, he said to the twisted figure on the stone platform, “Patriarch, the newly captured cultivator is at the late-stage Foundation Establishment. We need to halt for now... I feel the immortal sects have already noticed us.”

The twisted figure on the stone platform suddenly moved his neck, letting out a raspy, broken growl, as if something had been ignited inside him: “Not enough! Kill... Qi Yan! Cough, cough, cough—”

His subsequent words rattled in his throat, as if his windpipe had been damaged, preventing him from speaking in full sentences.

But Jiang Yuezhan had already heard the name. His pupils constricted sharply.

Qi Yan? The person he spoke of was none other than his master, Qi Yan?

He curled on the ground without moving, keeping his breathing extremely shallow as his mind raced. This man, addressed as “Patriarch,” held a grudge against his master. From the sound of it, he was trying to use the Nine-Turn Spirit-Sustaining Array to reconstruct his spiritual root and body, with the ultimate goal of seeking revenge on his master.

Peeking slightly, he saw that the hem of his outer robe at his waist was still intact and covering his side. Through the fabric, the bluish-green Wandering Dragon Pendant emitted a faint warmth.

He calmed his mind. Senior Sister was definitely already looking for him.

He closed his eyes again and slowed his breathing, pretending to still be unconscious.

The footsteps of the gray-robed man echoed on the stone floor as he walked around, finally stopping in a certain direction, seemingly crouching down to tinker with something.

Meanwhile, in a hidden courtyard within the city, Lin Zhiyue sat by the window, looking down at her palm.

Her connection to the Seven-Colored Deer, which had been a faint thread moments ago, now felt as if it had been severed by something—her perception had become sluggish and hazy. Standing beside her, Ye Qingwu had clearly noticed the anomaly as well, whispering, “As expected, that place has a barrier that cuts off transmissions.”

Lin Zhiyue did not panic at all.

Who could blame her when she had a cheat? Honghong was a system product and possessed a special connection to the system—as long as she wanted, she could find Honghong's location at any time.

It was a pity this connection did not work on outfits, or she wouldn't have had to go through the trouble of stuffing Honghong into the jade pendant.

She lowered her eyes and pinged the system in her mind: Help me locate the Seven-Colored Deer.

The system screen popped up slightly faster than usual. A tiny point of light flickered on the map before stabilizing. The location was deep within the abandoned residential area in the west of the city, slightly to the northwest, perfectly overlapping with the blank area marked on her map.

A line of text popped up from the system: [Seven-Colored Deer location confirmed. Current coordinates: Approximately thirty feet underground in the abandoned residential area in the west of Yunting City. Location is continuously updating.]

Lin Zhiyue watched the point of light glowing steadily on the map, mapping its position and the surrounding alleys in her mind once more.

She turned to look at Ye Qingwu, her voice hushed but resolute: “Honghong's location is confirmed. It is underground in the abandoned residential area in the west of the city, about thirty feet deep. I have a rough idea of the route. We can bypass their sentries by going through the abandoned dry well behind the northwestern wall. There's a narrow gap between two sections of the courtyard wall nearby that we can pass through to avoid detection.”

Ye Qingwu glanced at her, asking no questions about how she had located it. She simply nodded and took a step toward the door. “Gather everyone. We move tonight.”

An hour before the operation, Lin Zhiyue spread the marked map across the table. Liu Fengyao squatted beside her while Cen Xi'er sat at the corner of the table. They laid out all their observation logs from the past few days to compare them.

Liu Fengyao traced a few imaginary lines on the map with her finger. “I've been watching the lookouts at the entrance of Qibao Pavilion for three days. Their shift changes are fixed at the hour of Wu, the hour of You, and the hour of Hai. The shift change at the hour of Hai has the most people, so I suspect they usually make their moves during that period.”

Senior Sister Qiao flipped open her booklet to add some information: “The families of the missing children mentioned that the disappearances mostly occurred during the evening or around the time they began their meditative state.”

Lin Zhiyue looked up at Ye Qingwu. “Venerable Qingwu, the guards inside should be at their fewest during the hour of Hai. What if we strike then?”

Ye Qingwu fell silent for a moment before nodding slightly in agreement.

Liu Fengyao folded up the map. Senior Sister Qiao went out to notify the other disciples of their assignments, while Senior Brother Zhou went to scout the terrain.

Lin Zhiyue blew out the oil lamp, running through the route one last time in the darkness to ensure every point and potential variable had been accounted for.

She stood by the window for a while as the distant sound of patrolling footsteps drifted across the street in the night.