The Chiyan Dynasty

Lin Zhiyue had been cultivating exceptionally hard lately.

Every morning after sword practice, she spent her free afternoon hours meditating to comprehend sword arts, and before nightfall, she would practice condensing sword qi for an extra fifteen minutes.

She had already broken through to the second form of the Tiance Sword Art given to her by Qi Yan. When she struck, the silver-white sword glow could persist in the air for over three zhang before dissipating.

She had also broken through the first form of the Thousand Mountains Cold Prism Sword Art, “Ten Thousand Prisms of Ice Rain.” Although the spread of the scattered frost prisms was not yet very wide, she could control their accuracy to a satisfying degree.

She felt the spiritual energy circulating inside her body was significantly faster than before she went to Yunting City. Around the outer edge of the ice-blue Golden Core in her dantian, a fine ring of frost patterns had appeared—a natural feedback from her sword qi cultivation.

That afternoon, as she was wiping away her sweat by the side of the martial arts field after practice, Qi Yan stood up from a blue stone. He glanced at Chu Zhixun standing nearby and said in a flat voice, “Spar a round with your Eldest Senior Brother as an assessment to test your recent progress.”

Hearing this, Lin Zhiyue's eyelid twitched. Sure enough, she still couldn't escape the final exam...

Chu Zhixun, who had been yawning nearby, was taken aback by these words. He quickly swallowed his yawn, stood up straight, and nodded seriously.

He drew the broad-bladed heavy sword from his waist, weighed it in his hand, and stretched his wrists, shoulders, and neck. Within a few breaths, his entire demeanor transformed.

He was usually all smiles, with a voice so loud it sounded like he was shouting across mountains. But now, with his sword in hand, his smile vanished, replaced by a calm and focused gaze. Even his posture shifted from a relaxed, loose stance to a grounded, battle-ready stance.

He tilted the tip of his sword toward Lin Zhiyue. “Come, Little Sister.”

Lin Zhiyue drew her Azure Scale Sword, and ice and wind spiritual energy condensed into a thin layer of frost on the blade.

Taking a deep breath, she lowered her stance slightly and made the first move.

Chu Zhixun's sword strikes were much heavier than she had imagined. Every blow from his broad-bladed heavy sword carried a heavy, crushing downward pressure. Her first strike was blocked with such force that her wrist went numb, forcing her to quickly step back to create distance and readjust her rhythm.

Instead of rushing into a direct clash, she utilized the agility of her movement techniques to weave in and out of the openings in Chu Zhixun's heavy sword defense.

Chu Zhixun's reactions were faster than she expected. Despite changing directions several times, she couldn't find a clear opening, only barely managing to avoid being suppressed.

By the seventeenth exchange, Lin Zhiyue found an opportunity.

The moment Chu Zhixun's horizontal slash missed, she took half a step back. Ice and wind spiritual energy condensed into a denser layer of frost prisms at the tip of her sword, and she unleashed the first form of the Thousand Mountains Cold Prism Sword Art, “Ten Thousand Prisms of Ice Rain.”

Dozens of fine ice prisms shot out from the blade of the Azure Scale Sword, scattering in a semi-arc that blocked Chu Zhixun's forward and lateral paths.

The ice prisms struck the heavy sword with a series of crisp, clinking sounds. Chu Zhixun was forced to pause his steps to adjust his sword angle. Seizing this brief window, Lin Zhiyue slipped past the side of his heavy sword. The Azure Scale Sword, trailing a solid trail of frost, grazed the spine of his blade, and the tip lightly tapped the fabric of his shoulder before she withdrew it.

Chu Zhixun froze, looking down at the faint frost mark on his shoulder. Then, sheathing his heavy sword, he laughed, returning to his usual good-natured self. “That was an impressive move, Junior Sister! I almost couldn't block it.” He patted his shoulder and gave Lin Zhiyue a thumbs-up. “Keep practicing. I'll definitely block it next time.”

Lin Zhiyue sheathed her Azure Scale Sword, her chest heaving as she caught her breath, her palm still slightly numb.

Qi Yan stood at the edge of the field and glanced at her, offering no immediate critique.

Lin Zhiyue returned her sword to its scabbard and walked back to the edge of the field to drink some water. Beside her, Chu Zhixun had already leaned over to gesture the angle of the ice prism scatter from earlier, his voice returning to its usual high-volume register, laughing to himself as he spoke.

Lin Zhiyue listened while drinking water, occasionally nodding.

The branches of the old pine tree by the martial arts field swayed in the wind, dropping a few pine needles that curled slightly under the sun.

A few more days passed.

That afternoon, Lin Zhiyue was sparring with Jiang Yuezhan.

Frost trails and sword shadows flickered alternately under the sunlight as their sword techniques clashed.

While they were deep in practice, footsteps sounded from the stone steps of the martial arts field. Chu Zhixun walked up quickly, clutching a letter with curled edges, his expression quite different from usual.

He stood at the edge of the field for a moment, his gaze pausing briefly on the two sparring before turning to Qi Yan, who was sitting on the blue stone. Scratching the back of his head, he said, “Master... a letter has arrived from the Chiyan Imperial Dynasty.”

Qi Yan looked up at him, his gaze sweeping over the letter in his hand, but he did not speak immediately.

Chu Zhixun took a few steps forward, placed the letter on the stone table, and then stepped back to his original spot, as if weighing his words.

He was silent for a moment before speaking, his voice slightly lower than usual. “It is my imperial father's sixtieth birthday. He hopes I can return to the palace to celebrate, and he also wishes to invite you, Master, to attend as an honored guest.” He paused there, rubbing his fingers together.

Lin Zhiyue sheathed her Azure Scale Sword and stood at the edge of the field. Eldest Senior Brother is actually a prince? Ancient imperial palaces, royal banquets—things she had only ever seen in tourist spots and historical dramas in her previous life suddenly became real and concrete.

She was genuinely curious about the difference between a real imperial palace and the reconstructed ancient buildings in tourist attractions.

Qi Yan leaned against the blue stone, not answering immediately. His gaze lingered on the edge of the opened letter on the stone table.

Chu Zhixun remained silent for another moment, as if preparing himself mentally. Then he spoke, his voice even slower than before. “Imperial Father also said that the national fortune of the Chiyan Imperial Dynasty has been severely depleting recently. He wants to invite you, Master, to... help look into it. He said that if this continues, the national fortune of the Chiyan Imperial Dynasty will collapse, potentially bringing about total ruin. He urged me to make sure I invite you.”

After those words fell, a brief silence blanketed the martial arts field.

Jiang Yuezhan also sheathed his sword. This matter seemed very serious—

Qi Yan finally raised his eyes.

His gaze moved from Chu Zhixun's face to the letter on the stone table. Then, he stood up. His tone was as flat as usual, but his words carried an unquestionable weight: “Follow me to the Tiance Platform.”

Chu Zhixun dithered for a moment before following, his steps slightly more hurried than usual.

Lin Zhiyue hesitated for a split second, then also stepped forward to follow. Jiang Yuezhan trailed at the very back.

The Tiance Platform was situated on an open, elevated platform at the highest point of the main peak. Unobstructed on all four sides, the entire vault of heaven stretched directly overhead.

Lin Zhiyue had never been here before—this place was sealed off year-round, and outsiders were forbidden from approaching. Yet today, following Qi Yan all the way up, she encountered no obstacles whatsoever.

Only now did Lin Zhiyue truly see what the Tiance Platform looked like. In the center of the platform, a formation plate embedded in the blue stone lay quietly spread out. Countless intricate lines crossed and extended across its surface, resembling the veins of mountains and rivers, or a network of intersecting meridians.

Qi Yan walked to the side of the formation plate and bent down slightly, his gaze slowly scanning across the surface. At the other end of the Tiance Platform, Xiao Sheng stood with his hands behind his back, though no one knew when he had arrived. Lin Zhiyue and the others quickly bowed in greeting, but Xiao Sheng merely waved his hand, signaling them not to stand on ceremony.

His gaze bypassed the others and fell upon Qi Yan at the edge of the formation plate. Seeing him inspecting the plate, Xiao Sheng sighed softly, as if he had known all along that Qi Yan would come.

Xiao Sheng's gaze also settled on the formation plate, his tone laced with a touch of gravity. “The national fortune of the Chiyan Imperial Dynasty is growing weaker and weaker. Yanchen, you must make a trip there. If the Chiyan Imperial Dynasty truly collapses, the mortal realm will fall into chaos as well.”

Qi Yan reached out and lightly brushed the edge of the formation plate. As his fingertip passed over the reddish light spot symbolizing the Chiyan Imperial Dynasty, he released a thread of spiritual energy to probe it. The red spot jerked violently, then dimmed a fraction.

He straightened up, his voice flat. “A fiend has descended to the world, stealing the national fortune.”

Standing a few paces away, Chu Zhixun stared at the dark red point of light, his expression shifting from confusion to a choked, heavy silence.

Standing at the edge of the Tiance Platform, the wind swept across, brushing the stray hairs on her forehead up and down.

Tiance Palace—she seemed to have found the answer as to why it had remained the leader of the various sects for hundreds of years...