On the edge of Tingyang Prefecture. A run-down county town.

Two Daoist priests moved with barely-concealed haste, drawing curious looks from passersby.

Elder Chunyang’s eyes had been full of barely contained fury for days, but he kept it down with visible effort and sent his voice across the distance to the woman in the long jacket.

“Senior Xiao — is this the right direction?”

Xiao Qiangwei’s expression had gone somewhat cold. “He moved again.”

Ten full days. The qi trace had wound back and forth, leading the group across nearly the entire length of Tingyang Prefecture. At the farthest it had been four or five hundred li away. At the nearest, somewhere almost directly alongside them.

Every time they sensed even a trace of movement, he vanished immediately — and however hard they pushed, the best they could manage was not losing him entirely.

Xiao Qiangwei had started to suspect that most of the reason they hadn’t lost him was that Yan Xingkong kept stopping to wait.

This was simply mockery.

She turned and walked toward Shen Yi, voice dropping.

“I misjudged this. I’ve wasted your time.”

She’d assumed the Thief King understood limits — that the game had a floor, given that his wife’s life was still in the General’s hands.

She hadn’t expected this level of brazenness. Even if he could run forever, could he move Pingsha Valley?

“That’s not on you.”

Shen Yi shook his head. His mood was still even.

Even if this trip produced nothing, it had been educational. The speed difference between practitioners at the same cultivation level could be this extreme.

The two Daoist priests came back. They didn’t direct the frustration at the court representatives — partly respect, partly something else. This young Commander Shen had surprised them over the past few days.

They’d expected him to slow the group down. Instead he’d kept pace with both of them at full-core stage without showing signs of strain.

“This humble Daoist suggests the Division surround Pingsha Valley, cut down his disciples, and take the Unfettered Wind-Riding Art. Let’s see where the thief runs then.” Elder Chunyang squeezed his fist, fury and all.

As jianghu forces, Baiyu Monastery didn’t seem to care about dragging themselves into the fire.

Xiao Qiangwei glanced at him. These Daoist priests were probably the reason the Division had never found a real fault with the Monastery after all these years.

“Say something useful.” Elder Qingjing frowned with quiet frustration. “If we go much further we’ll be completely out of the twelve prefectures. I’m genuinely starting to wonder if Yan Xingkong has made a deal with a demon and is leading us out.”

Otherwise the past ten days made no sense.

“What is there to fear — Shen Commander can rest in this town while we go deal with the Thief King.” Elder Chunyang’s voice carried confidence that his eyes didn’t entirely back up — the real concern was visible in the suggestion itself. Once past Qingzhou’s borders, even practitioners of their standing had no guarantee of protecting him.

Going out on their own was one thing. Being led out step by step was more dangerous entirely.

Both priests went quiet, waiting on the woman’s decision.

Xiao Qiangwei turned to Shen Yi instead and said nothing at all.

Elder Qingjing thought back to what she’d said at the start — Commander Shen is in charge — and realized it hadn’t been dismissive deflection. This young man was actually running things.

Something shifted in his assessment. Perhaps, beyond a remarkable pace on the road, there was something else to this person.

Shen Yi considered briefly.

“If we go beyond Qingzhou’s borders and he still won’t stop — can Pingsha Valley be surrounded?”

Xiao Qiangwei had expected disappointment. Instead she caught a faint edge of something like anticipation in his eyes. She let out a surprised sound, then smiled.

“Are you interested in things like this? Did you go to Qingfeng Mountain too?”

She nodded with conviction. “This time he’s gone too far. Doesn’t matter if he knelt outside the General’s compound for a night or a year — that doesn’t give him license to lead demon-hunters into demon territory.”

“One last chase.”

Shen Yi walked toward the county town’s edge. Beyond the Solar-Splitting Bow and the Twin-Harmony Sword Intent — the Thief King’s Unfettered Wind-Riding Art had also caught his interest now.

Of course, his ability had limits.

If it genuinely couldn’t be done, it couldn’t be done.

Seven hundred li outside Tingyang Prefecture. Completely beyond Qingzhou’s range.

Jagged mountain ranges rose in front of them, the shapes like crouching beasts. The stillness made both Daoist priests increasingly uncomfortable.

Open territory this vast, and not a trace of demon qi.

That was genuinely rare. There was only one explanation — the demons knew something that lived here wasn’t worth disturbing.

Xiao Qiangwei divided the qi trace into four threads, feeling something between relief and unease. “He’s stopped. Surround from four sides. Try not to disturb anything else in the area.”

“I’ll go with Commander Shen.” Elder Chunyang reached for one of the threads.

“No need.” Shen Yi took a thread himself.

Based on Xiao Qiangwei’s read, seven hundred li was about the limit of safe range. Going deeper meant risking being unable to disengage. If this was the last chance, no gaps could be allowed.

The two priests exchanged a look and didn’t press further. In a place this dangerous, even they were tense — no mood for arguing about someone being reckless.

They split routes quickly and moved toward the direction the qi pointed.

“…”

Moving alone through the dense forest.

Shen Yi’s expression stayed careful, but something in his movement had actually loosened compared to before.

Like the Black Stone Deep pool — stepping fully into this mountain wilderness, the mountain lord’s ability within the Immortal-Demon Nine Transformations came into its own.

Without releasing any qi — the broken terrain underfoot, the tree canopy overhead — none of it was an obstacle. All of it felt familiar.

Every sense sharpened. The grass and trees around him felt alive.

He stopped.

Looked ahead into silence.

In the dead thorns ahead, after a long moment, came a drawn-out sigh.

Then a tall figure stepped out.

Disheveled hair. The flush of someone drinking off a drunk. Eyes thoroughly bloodshot. The whole bearing had come apart.

The man licked cracked lips and gave Shen Yi a brief, dismissive look. The voice was rough.

“If I’m remembering right, what Yan stole was You Longtao’s Heaven-Piercing Solar-Splitting Bow. Not the leftover food from his General’s compound. He sent someone like you to investigate?”

He dug fingers into his own hair with a headache.

“Fine. Whatever. Nothing between me and a demon-hunter at your level. I’m here to kill a demon. Not feed one.”

He waved a hand with open contempt.

“Run along, run along.”

Before the words finished — a shadow filled his vision. Then a knee drove into his stomach with sharp force, and a palm sealed the major channel in his right leg.

Yan Xingkong felt the tearing pain and his eyes snapped open. A mix of blood and wine-breath left his mouth.

He burned full-core stage qi on instinct and threw himself back three feet with everything he had.

Three feet of distance — and his form became like wind in an instant, and he was simply gone.

“…”

Shen Yi had his blade half out.

He looked at empty air and pushed the blade back in.

He’d wanted to hold him first and ask questions. But he genuinely hadn’t anticipated—

A man with a sealed leg could still move that fast?

(End of Chapter)