Near a valley draped in ivy, a graceful green-robed woman sat calmly upon a luminous spirit bird, her robes flowing like snow in the white light. In an instant, the bird surged through the air at breathtaking speed, reaching the valley's sky. Then, folding its wings, it dove downward, seemingly poised to plunge headlong into the dense tangle of ivy below. As the woman raised her hand, a spell was cast. Immediately, the ivy beneath shimmered with green light, then vanished entirely, revealing a soft, emerald-hued light screen. Without hesitation, she urged the spirit bird forward. A flash of white light, and the woman was gone—vanished into the screen. Beneath the screen, a different scene unfolded: six green-robed cultivators sat in stillness at the center of a five-pointed magical array. Though modest—only six or seven zhang in size—five of them sat in meditation at the corners of the array, their surrounding aura pulsing gently. One elderly man with a long white beard sat quietly in the center, his eyes closed. Suddenly, he opened his eyes and lifted his gaze toward the heavens. A sphere of white light descended slowly. A moment later, the young woman in green robes reached before the elder and bowed respectfully. "Disciple reports to Senior Master," she said, her voice low and respectful. "The mist in the mountain range has completely lifted. Many cultivators have already headed to Zhumó Valley." "Has the Gui Ling Sect departed?" the elder, stroking his long beard, asked calmly. "Most of the Gui Ling Sect members have not yet set out, though several disciples have already begun their journey." The woman thought carefully before replying. "Hmph! Since the elders of Gui Ling Sect have not yet departed, we need not rush. As long as we keep an eye on their senior monks and nuns, we will be safe. Niece Han, go and continue monitoring their movements. Report immediately should anything unusual occur." The elder issued the instruction with quiet composure. "Yes, disciple will set out right away," the young woman replied without hesitation. Then, she bowed once more to the elder and gracefully mounted the spiritual bird, taking flight into the sky. Soon burst through the light screen and vanished. The elder stared at the figure of the green-robed woman as she disappeared, his eyes flashing with keen thought, then quickly returned to his usual composure. The five male and female cultivators surrounding the spell array remained motionless from the moment the green-robed woman appeared until she departed—each expression unchanged, as if carved from stone. The elderly man with long white beard seemed entirely accustomed to this scene, showing no surprise at all, and closed his eyes once more. At that moment, the Daoist turned back and glanced at the two puppets, a touch of pride flashing across his face before he murmured softly, "With these two puppets assisting, my journey to the Valley of the Fallen Demon will surely yield significant results." Having said this, he raised his hand and cast two sets of spells. Instantly, the two evil spirit puppets shrank rapidly and shot into the folds of his robe. Then, the Daoist transformed into a streak of red light, speeding off toward the Valley of the Fallen Demon. The only elder that Han Li did not recognize had high, broad eyebrows and a lion-like nose with a wide mouth, his appearance and physique quite distinctive. These three remained silent, steadily pressing on without speaking, their luminous trail of light flashing brightly as it swept past the sky, transforming into three glowing points and then vanishing instantly. ... Similar scenes were frequently occurring in the vicinity of the Wanling Mountain Range. Many cultivators entered the journey to the Ruimagi Valley with full confidence. At this moment, Han Li had also arrived near the Ruimagi Valley. Standing on a small hillock some dozen miles from the valley's entrance, he gazed calmly toward the valley, silently pondering. Without needing to employ his spiritual awareness, he now knew that within a radius of several dozen miles, a gathering of over a thousand cultivators had assembled, among whom were no less than several senior masters at the Yuan Ying stage, quietly concealed. Though perhaps not as profoundly accomplished as the three senior cultivators, these masters were all formidable in their mysterious and intricate techniques, none of whom were easily to be dealt with. Yet Han Li did not boast—he truly believed that aside from the three senior cultivators and Mu Lan, the others would have no fear. A single moment of carelessness, and just as easily, their lives would be lost here. As he pondered, Han Li occasionally glanced at the entrance of the Zui Mo Valley. If it hadn’t been for the gathering of all the cultivators at the outset, Han Li would have never believed that such an ordinary mountain opening could serve as the valley’s entrance. Yet above the entrance, gray clouds rolled in ceaselessly, and the spiritual energy surged with numerous unusual phenomena, leaving onlookers struck with awe. From the outside, the entrance appeared only about ten to twelve zhang wide. Han Li extended his divine awareness into the valley, probing slightly. However, his awareness only penetrated a few hundred zhang before encountering an inexplicable seal within the valley, and he never observed the supposed spatial rift. Though Han Li could rely on his powerful awareness to force his way through, facing such a perilous place, he hesitated and ultimately chose to carefully withdraw his awareness. Then, Han Li settled himself upon the mound, closing his eyes and entering meditation. Who else could it be but Mulan Fashi! Han Li was slightly astonished by this development. Although he had heard rumors before that the Mulan people would also get involved, he had always thought it unlikely. After all, despite their peace agreement, both sides had suffered heavy casualties in the border battles. The Mulan people had deep grievances with many sects, and such enmities were not easily resolved without centuries of gradual reconciliation. Under these circumstances, it was truly surprising that they dared to venture deep into the southern reaches of the heavens, even to enter the Fallen Demon Valley in search of treasures. Could it be that they were afraid of being attacked by zealous practitioners eager for vengeance? As Han Li was pondering this, a massive flying carriage arrived in the sky above the entrance. The faces of the people inside were clearly visible to the naked eye. Han Li glanced at the two leading figures, and a sense of clarity began to form in his mind. If these two were leading the charge, then he need not worry about ordinary practitioners seeking retribution against them. Yet how could the three senior cultivators of Mulan allow them to reach this point? Han Li still found it puzzling. Standing at the front of the flying carriage, the male and female cultivators displaying their prowess were none other than Zhong, the scholarly junior master of Mulan, and Le, the woman in charge of the ancient lamps. Indeed, with Zhong's late Yuan-Stage cultivation, he could easily calm the grievances of ordinary cultivators. The flying carriage landed on a small hillock a short distance away from Han Li. The cultivators stepped down one by one. Le chanted a series of incantations and then shrunk the carriage, folding it up. The others kept their eyes fixed on the entrance to Zui Mo Valley, their faces expressing astonishment. It seemed they, too, were equally surprised. While the cultivators faced the arrival of the Mulan delegation with cold eyes and deep suspicion, a brilliant flash of light suddenly appeared on the distant horizon. A hundred or so streaks of flight lights burst forth and shot toward them. "Those are from Gui Ling Sect!" Someone immediately recognized the origin of these flight lights and whispered excitedly. Those who had been focused on the Mulan cultiv Han Li coldly snorted, his gaze flickering uncertainly. The glimmers of light, though not particularly swift, drifted steadily to the valley entrance and settled down at a distance of over a hundred zhang from the entrance. As the light faded, a group of more than a hundred black-robed cultivators emerged—all from the Gui Ling Sect. Three leading figures standing before the crowd immediately caught Han Li's attention. Among them, the one on the far left was someone Han Li recognized instantly: Wang Tiangu, a senior cultivator from the Gui Ling Sect. His eyes narrowed as he quickly scanned the crowd, and there, he spotted Wang Chan and Yan Ruqian. Wang Chan appeared fully intact, seemingly in good health. In contrast, Yan Ruqian looked somewhat worn, her expression pale and slightly weary. "Perhaps the initial Yin Mo Slash did not seriously injure her," Han Li thought, "or perhaps she has suffered additional limb injuries that remain undetected." His mind raced, instantly forming two unconfirmed hypotheses. However, with the current standing and reputation of Han Li, Wang Chan no longer posed any threat to him. Thus, his gaze shifted once more, settling on the two Yuan-Infancy cultivators leading the group. The middle-aged man in the broad black robe, with a stern expression and an aura of exceptional dignity, clearly held significant authority and frequently issued commands—immediately recognizable as a figure in charge. To his right stood an elderly man with pale complexion and completely white hair, his sharp eyes gleaming with vitality, radiating a strong sense of martial intensity. Both were Yuan-Infancy cultivators, though unfamiliar to Han Li, suggesting they had not participated in the Border Campaign. Notably, the elder had already reached the mid-stage of Yuan-Infancy cultivation, which prompted Han Li to pay him closer attention.