The Hollow Sect (the Southern Branch), as a major organization within the realm of evil professions, maintains an extensive network of eyes and connections across all sectors. Given the unique nature of their profession, if any of its members are officially hunted and killed, the authorities would inevitably uncover the truth. The Pure Yang Master was unearthed in an ancient tomb in Jiangnan Province. Jianghu Province, adjacent to Jiangnan, has recently seen a series of unexplained deaths among its illusionary practitioners—this makes it difficult for Zhang Yuancheng not to suspect the ancient cultivator. "The Night Wanderer of Taimei Sect has escaped unharmed, while the illusionary practitioners of the Hollow Sect have been targeted? Hm, it's like dogs fighting dogs—though evil professions may be ruthless, they still adhere to certain moral standards. In comparison, the Pure Yang Master is truly the most troublesome." Zhang Yuancheng interrupted the ritual of sacrifice and dialed the phone of Elder Gao Feng. "Elder Gao, I've received intelligence that the illusionary practitioners of the Hollow Sect's Southern Branch have been mysteriously disappearing recently—seemingly not as a result of official actions. I suspect the Pure Yang Master. You're in charge of apprehending him "Upon hearing this, the tone of Senior Peak grew serious," "There's absolutely no trace at all. Ah, I'm just a common earth-walker, not even particularly skilled in tracking—this Senior Grand Master is clearly setting obstacles for me." Pausing, he added, "I do have a few clues here. Since the ancient tomb incident, several cases of unexplained deaths have occurred in Jiangnan Province. Recently, there's been a ghostly phenomenon at the port of Yongcheng—officially, a water spirit assigned to patrol underwater went missing. After the Yongcheng branch dispatched teams to search underwater, they recovered a decomposed body with signs of combat, yet could not locate the colleague. I suspect this is directly linked to Master Pure Yang." "So, by consuming the spiritual essences of official practitioners and thus controlling the current status and distribution of the spiritual practitioners in this realm?" Zhang Yuanqing expressed his interpretation. "Therefore, the mysterious disappearance of the southern school's illusionists is likely indeed tied to him," Senior Peak sighed. As a terrestrial spirit, he possesses rare defensive capabilities and solid combat prowess, though he is not skilled in tracking, strategy, or calculation. It is well known that terrestrial spirits generally exhibit a steady, reserved, and gentle temperament. Tasks involving intricate planning and manipulation are typically handled by water spirits, wood immortals, and scouts. "Senior Master Gao, please rest assured—I will do my best to assist you," Zhang Yuanqing seized the opportunity to strengthen their relationship. "To be honest, the Lady of the Third Mountain also wishes to eliminate Pure Yang's Master. She says: 'As long as my master remains alive, I shall never find peace, neither in sleep nor in meals.'" Then he sent a detailed message back to Kou Beiyue, informing her of the situation regarding the Master of Pure Yang Sect. Kou Beiyue had likely been wondering whether to use the path of selecting a worthy successor to eliminate the threat posed by the Master of Pure Yang Sect—should this channel succeed in conveying the Master’s threat to the Huwu Sect, it would be a solid strategy. In handling the matter of the Master of Pure Yang Sect, the evil faction could also become a valuable ally. With the enigmatic skills and tactics of a spirit-magic practitioner, perhaps it would be easier to gather and control leads than through official channels. Later, he could leverage Liang Chen’s initiative in selecting a worthy successor to gather intelligence and relay it to Long Gao, the senior abbot. This leading figure in Hangzhou now owed him a tremendous debt. ... "Beep!" The phone on the table beside Kou Beiyue rang, but he didn’t check it immediately—instead, he clinked his wine glass against a blood bun and took a sip. "Message sent—message sent…" The plump young man quickly nudged his elder, urging him to check the message right away. Kou Beiyue set down her wine cup, picked up her phone, and swiped for fingerprint authentication. She stared at the screen, then slapped the table excitedly: "Whoa! Looks impressive—some ancient cultivator?" Then she went back to eating grilled skewers and drinking wine. The plump young man suddenly stood up. "Now that the workload's light, we don't need to work so hard—sit down, sit down," he invited his younger brother. "Let's continue drinking. Today, let's have the Peach Garden Oath—three of us, one bond." He was clearly getting carried away. Ah, the head of the team hadn't grasped the seriousness of the situation—lacking both brains and joy... How could the plump one drink when he felt so serious and uneasy? His round face bore a sense of gravity and unease. "Boss, I need to go back for a moment." Without listening to any further pleas from Kou Beiyue, he mounted the small electric bike by the roadside and rode off, dust swirling behind him. Zhang Yuanqing focused his attention on the parchment, confirming that all materials were sound. He placed the parchment over the materials and infused the power of the Moon, murmuring continuously: "Madam, Madam, come out, Madam, Madam, come out..." As the meaningless repetition flowed, the parchment rapidly drew out the spiritual essence of the materials. The spiritual scroll array drawn upon it rose from the surface, swiftly ascending into the sky and stabilizing at a height of about fifteen meters. The very next moment, the array collapsed inward, forming a circular channel. A few moments later, a powerful, radiant golden light surged forth from the dark, collapsing channel. Good heavens—the presence of the Madam had grown several times stronger, even surpassing that of the Mage's eyes in intensity. The overwhelming pressure poured down like a celestial tide, signaling the arrival of a high-ranking sovereign on Earth. Zhang Yuanqing, directly beneath, felt his knees give way, nearly bowing in reverence. He lay fully on the desk, motionless. Suddenly, as the golden light approached the channel's entrance, it was halted by an invisible barrier. After encountering resistance, the golden light reversed and collided with the subsequent wave of golden light, emitting a brilliant glow that transformed the entire circular passage into a miniature sun. At that very moment, Zhang Yuanqing received a spiritual realm notification: 【Ping! You are currently forcibly opening the entrance to the spiritual realm. Please immediately cease your efforts, or you will face consequences.】 Clearly, the spiritual realm had intervened to prevent the establishment of the channel between the spiritual and physical realms—the barrier itself was created by the spiritual realm. "Hmph!" A cool, clear sound of disdain echoed within the passage. Then, a crisp cracking sound resonated through the void, revealing cracks spreading across the invisible barrier at the base of the golden light. Soon after, the barrier shattered completely, and a beam of golden light descended, striking the ground with a solid "thud"—revealing a magical staff known as the Staff of Subduing Demons. This artifact was entirely different when held by its true master compared to when it was in the hands of an unskilled one. Once the passage opened, golden light poured down in overwhelming abundance, instantly reducing the flowers and plants in the courtyard to ashes. Zhang Yuanqing reacted swiftly, rolling away just before the passage began to crack. As the golden light descended, he eagerly watched the interior of the passage, waiting for the ghost mirror to fall. At the same time, he called out: "Madam, what shall we do about your grievously injured master? He's so polished and diplomatic—far more brilliant than the official 'dull' disciples, who simply can't be caught." A clear, resonant voice from within the passage replied: "Wait until your next visit to the spiritual realm to discuss it further. Then, go. From now on, make yourself useful in the mortal world and don't let your master down." "Ah? What do you mean, Madam? You're speaking to someone else?" Zhang Yuanqing was left stunned. At that moment, a reluctant voice came from within the passage: "Master, please, let me think about it a bit more..." "The passage is closing now. Shall you go on your own, or shall I push you down?" The elder's voice was cold and indifferent, far less gentle than when speaking to Yuan Shi Tian Zun. This—this voice was coming from a spiritual body, surely not? A thought utterly unexpected surged through Zhang Yuanqing's mind. The very next moment, a red-draped figure descended gracefully, accompanied by a thick aura of yin energy. As she landed, the passage could no longer be sustained, rapidly contracting and then vanishing. The spiritual interface tone faded, no longer issuing warnings. Zhang Yuanqing sat at the round table, wide-eyed, gazing at the woman who had descended. She wore a Ming dynasty ma mian qun, her upper garment embroidered with exquisite dragons and phoenixes, fitting tightly and accentuating her full, lofty bust. Her appearance was exceptionally beautiful, yet unnaturally pale, with dark, ink-black eye sockets and crimson pupils, streaked with luminous red veins—strangely beautiful and ethereal. Was this Lady Yin Yao? Zhang Yuanqing thought to himself. Oh, Majesty, I only asked you to fetch the ghost mirror to help me contain my heart demons—I never asked you to bring your disciple here! Lady Yin Yao's strange and breathtaking eyes gazed afar, then lightly exhaled, turning her head aside. Quite proud, wasn't she? Zhang Yuanqing felt an odd sensation within. Once, this lady had frightened him so badly he nearly lost his bladder; now, though she remained powerful, her aura at least at the fifth level, Zhang Yuanqing no longer felt afraid. In just one month, he had grown far beyond the humble transcendental realm cultivator he once was. At that moment, the young green tea and the Queen burst out of the villa. The former exclaimed, "Brother Yuan Shi, what happened just now? Li Chunfeng was so startled he collapsed to the ground!" Li Chunfeng, standing behind, hands lowered, holding his gun, seemed as if facing a formidable opponent. The three of them halted upon seeing Lady Yin Yao standing in the courtyard, all pausing with alertness and apprehension. On the other side, Fu Qingyang arrived with Ling Jun riding the wind, landing gracefully in the courtyard. Both of them appeared serious, having sensed the presence of a high-level master and the aura of the spiritual realm from their neighboring pavilion. Believing a major event had occurred, they had rushed over in haste. Noticing the fading of the sovereign and spiritual realm aura, Ling Jun relaxed, once again assuming his casual demeanor, and glanced at Yin Yao, the county lady, remarking, "Such a beautiful one! Hmm, a high-intelligence yin corpse—Master Yuan, you've finally reached the level of a corpse-bearer. What happened just now? I sensed the sovereign and spiritual auras earlier, yet you've been acting up again." The first part of his remark, whether true or not, didn't sit well with Fu Qingyang, his brother-in-law, who furrowed his brows and cast a questioning glance toward Zhang Yuanqing. As a promising up-and-coming guardian with the qualification to report directly to the Grand Elder, he holds a significant position. The high-level meetings of the illusionist council are conducted entirely within realms of dreams and visions. This is also one of the primary reasons they are so difficult to capture—when it comes to unpredictability, illusionists rank first among the three most enigmatic professions. After traversing a luminous, hazy expanse of shifting light, he finds himself in a grand hall. Sixteen sturdy stone pillars support the vaulted ceiling, with a crimson carpet stretching from the entrance to a golden throne at the far end. Seated upon the throne is a figure six meters tall, draped in a cloak that reveals a swirling, pulsating mass of deep black light—symbolizing the most impure and chaotic emotions in the world. "The auspicious moment has chosen the one to be slain. I bow to the Grand Elder!" The plump young man kneels, feeling the Grand Elder's presence profound and overwhelming, as if standing at the edge of a deep chasm, leaving him without the courage to lift his head. "What is it?" "The figure on the golden throne spoke slowly, his voice indistinct—difficult to tell whether male or female, whether young or old—and as if it were the combined voices of countless men, women, young and old. "I have learned the reason behind the mysterious disappearances of the illusionary mages within the sect," said the plump young man. "It is of great importance, and therefore I believe it must be personally reported to you."