Chapter 43: Nether Moon and Profound Darkness

The Daoist spoke in this manner.

"This grand gathering held by the sect certainly carries a deeper meaning; it cannot be so simple. In all my years here, I've never seen a pill conference conducted like this."

"Within a single day, only these four registration points in the Valley of Yellow Springs exist, and only disciples aged twenty-four and under can sign up. The pill conference itself is scheduled for a mere half month from now!"

"The timing is hurried and constraining, as if something is being restricted. I couldn't make sense of it at first, but then I heard the sect recently mobilized a vast amount of medicinal pills..."

The two Dao companions sensed something was amiss, vaguely suspecting the sect was preparing for some grand event. Yet, they hesitated, unsure if they should involve themselves in such murky waters.

In the end, they gritted their teeth. In this sea of people, the sect might frame one or two, but it would never entrap so many disciples—especially since almost all were pill masters!

Like themselves, for whom pill refining was merely a pastime or side profession, not truly a path of pill cultivation; at best, they were pill masters. Still, this was enough—they could craft pills with their own hands.

No longer hesitating, they realized the hour was late. If they queued at the very end, they might wait until the end of time!

What could be done?

While searching for a way, Zhang Dai suddenly spotted an "acquaintance" at the front of the queue...

He quickly took Fang Fei by the hand, pushed aside those flanking them, and squeezed his way forward, ignoring the curses and protests around him.

"Brother Zhang!" Zhang Dai's beady eyes darted, his expression shifting from sour and sharp to a broad smile, as he laid a hand on Zhang Hui's shoulder.

To those nearby, it appeared as if these two were comrades in adversity—if not for their markedly different appearances.

Zhang Hui heard the voice behind him and shuddered inwardly, cursing this bringer of bad luck. Though annoyed, he maintained a smile, opened his arms wide, and gave Zhang Dai a bear hug.

Their performance convinced the crowd, though Fang Fei, standing behind, found the scene a little odd.

She knew Zhang Dai well—self-serving and opportunistic, not one for brotherhood or loyalty.

Like a turtle eyeing a green bean, they matched each other's interests and became Dao companions. In her understanding, Zhang Dai was up to no good, a suspicion soon confirmed.

"Brother Zhang Hui! I've finally found you!" After embracing, Zhang Dai's eyes reddened, tears streaming down his cheeks.

Zhang Hui, a straightforward man, had stumbled into the world of cultivation, relying on a bit of fortune and insight to steadily achieve modest progress.

He had met Zhang Dai by chance, and, unguarded, fell into his trap, owing him a large sum of spirit stones.

Though honest, Zhang Hui was no fool—he soon saw Zhang Dai's true face and resolved to follow his own path, avoiding him.

Yet, a debt is a debt, though fortunately, no deadline had been set. He hoped to evade him as long as possible, but fate had other plans—here they were.

Zhang Dai seemed in good spirits; perhaps, if Zhang Hui played along, he might escape trouble. He decided to go with the flow.

But Zhang Dai, now sniffling and wiping his tears on Zhang Hui, was hard to resist—after all, he owed him money.

Zhang Dai was cunning, knowing that with such a crowd, his scheme would be difficult. Cutting in line was an art.

"You must know, because of you! Not only did you leave the sect without permission, but you also made off with many secret treasures from the repository. Master is furious, bedridden, clinging to life!"

Zhang Hui saw the hostile looks around him and tried to explain, but Zhang Dai cut him off. "What? I..."

"Say no more. Master knows your heart is set elsewhere. I've persuaded him these past days, and finally, he's let go of his attachment."

"He said, since Zhang Hui has found his own way, so be it. But aside from the spirit stones, the secret treasures in the repository are the painstaking legacy of generations—they must not be lost to a greedy soul!"

Zhang Dai emphasized "spirit stones." Amid the noise, the crowd didn't catch it, but Zhang Hui, standing close, heard every word.

Simple-minded, Zhang Hui didn't catch the hidden meaning, thinking Zhang Dai truly wanted his spirit stones. He wondered why Zhang Dai spun such elaborate tales.

He was about to retrieve the stones from his pouch, but Zhang Dai interrupted again. "Let me just..."

Seeing Zhang Hui's slow wits, Zhang Dai grew exasperated and clarified, "Master may say so, but I could see in his eyes that he longs for you, senior brother!"

"If you return to the sect, kneel and apologize, I'm sure Master will forgive you!" He stressed "return immediately," then stared at him intently.

Zhang Hui was dumbfounded, thinking it over until he understood Zhang Dai's hidden message and left with a bow.

The crowd watched Zhang Dai's crafty face and thought, never mind his looks, he must be a true friend.

As for Zhang Hui, despite his honest appearance, he must be a scoundrel! If I get the chance, I'll teach him the meaning of sect loyalty!

Thus Zhang Dai and Fang Fei naturally claimed Zhang Hui's spot. Zhang Hui, tail between his legs, fled under their hostile gazes.

As the crowd pondered how to punish such faithlessness, Zhang Dai slipped two spirit stones to the person behind him, quietly securing his place.

When the crowd realized what had happened, Zhang Dai maintained a solemn expression, staring straight ahead. Those with words to say swallowed them.

After a long wait, as they were about to register, a commotion arose behind them. Turning, they saw several Blue Armored Guards, and an ominous feeling crept over Zhang Dai.

The leader was a young man in his early twenties, somewhat familiar. After a moment's thought, Zhang Dai shuddered.

"It's him—Mingyue Xuan Yin, Bai Fan!"

This man, though male, possessed the mysterious Yin constitution usually found in women. Compared to ordinary men, he carried a subtle allure, imperceptible even to himself.

This half-veiled, half-revealed aura tugged at the heartstrings.

Even Fang Fei, cruel and indifferent by nature, found her cheeks tinged with red without realizing it.

The scene unsettled Zhang Dai. Though they bore the title of Dao companions, theirs was a relationship of mutual exploitation, not true intimacy. Yet, why did he feel a pang of jealousy?

His gaze toward Bai Fan changed, from surprise, to envy, to a touch of resentment.

He cursed inwardly—Bai Fan, blessed with a unique constitution, spends his days flirting with women, shamelessly. Just another pretty boy, like those pampered courtesans in wealthy households!

Before he could rant further, Bai Fan began counting.

"Three, two..."

Though Zhang Dai thought these things, reason urged him to keep his head down. It was only a pill conference, after all. He was about to step out of the line when Fang Fei tugged at his sleeve, her eyes puzzled.

To Fang Fei, Zhang Dai should recognize the situation. For Bai Fan to speak so boldly in public, he must have backing.

If the Blue Armored Guards killed a few disciples, the sect would not blink.

Both knew well how to seek profit and avoid harm; when trouble loomed, retreat was wise. Why was Zhang Dai suddenly hesitant?

If it were before, he would have left long before Bai Fan finished counting. Was there some unseen variable here? Was that why he lingered, unwilling to let opportunity slip away?

Zhang Dai froze for a moment; by then, Bai Fan had counted to two. As he considered leaving, Fang Fei released his sleeve.

Suddenly, he recalled Fang Fei's flushed cheeks, steeled his resolve, and refused to leave.

He whispered tenderly to her, "Trust your husband!"

Fang Fei paused, feeling a strange sensation. Zhang Dai had never addressed her as "husband" before.

Seeing his resolute gaze, she was about to say, "If you stay, so will I!" when unexpectedly, Zhang Dai gave her a push from behind. She staggered forward, stepping out of the crowd.

Just as she turned, ready to curse Zhang Dai for greed, she heard Bai Fan count, "Three!"

The words had barely left his lips.

In a blink, a tiny blue serpent with red eyes shot from Bai Fan's sleeve. It twisted through the air, its blue and red glow flashing like a stream of light.

"Pop..."

A faint sound. A breeze brushed Zhang Dai's cheek, lifting a few strands of hair and a chill. It felt as if he'd been bitten by a large mosquito; his neck tingled.

He saw Fang Fei's face, both surprised and concerned.

"Ah." Her cheeks were flushed, so beautiful. This time, her gaze was not for Bai Fan, but for him—how wonderful.

His vision blurred, his head grew dizzy, his body cold. The world seemed to turn to porridge. He wished to see, just once more, the blush on his wife's face...

Zhang Dai died. The tiny wound on his neck released only a trickle of blood, instantly frozen by the cold. A drop landed precisely on Fang Fei's astonished cheek.

Bai Fan watched Zhang Dai collapse and was momentarily stunned, frowning slightly. His technique was newly practiced, and he hadn't meant to kill, but lost control.

Though it wasn't his intention, trouble was trouble. He wondered if he should send Fang Fei along as well.

Suddenly, he saw her grab Zhang Dai's pouch at his waist, snicker darkly, and disappear with a few quick leaps.