To Qingzhou, a Wutong Mountain disciple was very nearly an immortal out of legend.

And now this Senior Tong had offered to lead the way himself.

You Longtao came out of his astonishment and hurriedly brought everyone after him.

They passed through several courtyards and came out before the War Temple's First Court.

Tong Xinchuan did not need to say a word; Lin Baixi picked out several graceful figures in the crowd at a glance.

Fewer than ten people in all, and the factions among them were unmistakable.

Martial Sister Jiang, whom she had not seen in a long while, seemed exactly as before, standing quietly at the very front. Behind and to one side of her stood a woman whose eyes had been gouged out.

On the other side, led by an old woman, a middle-aged man stood with two young women behind him.

And at the very back were several people in Custodian's robes.

Seeing how grave they all looked, Lin Baixi felt a tremor in her chest and a bad premonition. She slipped quietly in and stood in a corner.

"Lord Wu, could you not go in and ask what the situation actually is?"

The Xu family's Fifth Ancestor turned, worried.

She had moved the entire clan to Great Qian, where they knew neither the place nor the people, and their only support was Shen Yi.

If something had happened to him, the Xu family would be left in an extremely awkward position.

"I could not. Lord Shen's order is that no one is to set half a foot inside the First Court."

Wu Dao'an answered without letting his eyes stray.

"When did our martial brother give that order?"

Beside him, Zhu Jue hovered in place and asked it under his breath.

In truth, War Temple disciples though they were, the two of them knew nothing either — only that the golden dharma form had appeared without warning and taken up guard here.

The reason the atmosphere had turned so grave was entirely Wu Dao'an's string of orders: seal the Imperial Capital, activate the grand formation.

"……"