Xiang Fan stood at the back of the crowd, his figure obscured by those in the front. He was short, his slight frame a stark contrast to the bustling scene around him. He lowered his head, his gaze fixed with a complex gaze on the worn-white cobblestones beneath his feet. His lips were pursed, his expression heavy.
"These profound matters are simply not for a Qi training disciple like me to participate in..." He muttered softly, his tone tinged with self-mockery and a deep sense of helplessness. He glanced at his fellow disciples, who were discussing the situation enthusiastically. Most of them, like him, were at a lower level of cultivation and were powerless to address this enormous crisis.
However, even though he knew his weakness couldn't change the situation, he unconsciously clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. He wasn't content with the status quo, but he knew even more clearly that his strength wasn't enough to make a difference at this critical moment.
The atmosphere in the square grew increasingly tense. After the deacon finished his command loudly, he quickly departed, leaving the disciples to disperse in silence and a faint sense of panic. Xiang Fan walked behind the crowd, dragging his slightly heavy steps, around a small path and reaching a small path in the back mountain.
The scenery behind the mountain was tranquil and beautiful. A gentle breeze rustled through the treetops, bringing a touch of coolness that contrasted sharply with the tense atmosphere within and outside the sect. At the end of the road, in a grove of ancient pines, Lu Qingli stood quietly beneath a tall, ancient pine, gazing out at the sky and the distant mountain peaks. Her snow-white robes fluttered gently in the wind, and her figure was cold and lonely. Although her expression remained her usual indifference, the slight frown on her brow betrayed a deep worry.
At that moment, a gentle sound of footsteps could be heard from behind. Lu Qingli turned around and saw her father, Lu Tianze, slowly approaching. His expression was as majestic as ever, but a hint of deep fatigue lingered in his eyes. He stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the mountain scenery before him, and sighed.
"Qingli," his voice was deep and powerful, but with a hint of heaviness in his tone that was difficult to conceal, "The matter of the Baixing Sect is no longer a matter for us to choose how to deal with. It is a problem for the entire Yunxuan Star."
Lu Qingli turned and met her father's gaze, a complex emotion flickering in her clear eyes. She pursed her lips slightly, a hint of unease in her tone: "Father, has the situation with the Baixing Sect truly reached a point of no return? The threat of the poisonous insect... is there really no other solution for us?"
Lu Tianze's gaze was deep, and his tone was firm and deep: "Qingli, you must understand that this is not just a problem for the Hundred Star Sect. The order of attack from the Star Lord Mansion has already said it all. Their plan involves the entire psychic network. If we can't stop them quickly, the order of this star field will completely collapse. This battle is no longer something we can escape."
Hearing this, Lu Qingli was silent for a moment. She nodded slowly, a hint of struggle in her eyes, yet also a hint of determination. "I understand, Father. If the Baixing Sect's plan succeeds, the consequences will be unimaginable."
Lu Tianze looked at his daughter, a complex emotion flickering in his eyes. He said nothing more, only a slight nod, then turned and walked away, his steps steady yet subtly heavy. Lu Qingli watched her father's back disappear into the depths of the pine forest, then turned again and gazed into the distance. The sky seemed particularly empty at that moment, as if shrouded in an invisible haze.
Meanwhile, within the sect, martial law had brought everyone's lives to a standstill. The once bustling training grounds were now hushed. Disciples were strictly forbidden from leaving, and even their daily practice was severely restricted. Xiang Fan walked along a small path leading to the back mountain. The bluestone slabs beneath his feet had been worn smooth by time, and each step carried a hint of silent loneliness.
Standing at the end of the path, he gazed toward the sealed gate with a complex expression. The gate was engraved with delicate psychic runes, gleaming in the sunlight, appearing mysterious and cold. Xiang Fan's brow furrowed, a wave of powerlessness welling up in his heart.
"I can't do anything..." He murmured to himself, a deep sigh etched in his voice. He lowered his head, his gaze fixed on his hands. His calloused fingers now seemed utterly empty. At the Qi Condensation stage, he couldn't even participate in the sect's defense, let alone face the threat of the Baixing Sect.
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