A Pawn's Passage

Chapter 554: What Was Seen and Heard in the Dream

Not far from Lu Shuihan’s dream was Bai Yuru’s, so Qi Xuansu decided to stop by.

Her dream setting was a vast, endless grassland. A man and a woman were riding on the same horse, galloping across the open plains.

At first glance, nothing seemed out of place. But upon closer inspection, their postures were rather strange. It was not the usual position of a man holding a woman from behind. Instead, the pair were facing each other, locked in an embrace, their bodies rising and falling with the galloping horse. Bai Yuru’s face was flushed, and her breathing came in soft pants.

Qi Xuansu was taken aback, marveling at how these highborn elites even managed to make their dreams of intimacy so bizarre.

The horse galloped toward a lush, verdant meadow, where the couple tumbled off and began intertwining in all sorts of positions.

That was when Qi Xuansu noticed something odd. The man’s face remained completely blurred—not just to him; it was likely that the dream owner did not picture a particular face.

Was this what they meant by erotic dreams left no traces? If a Diviner with ill intentions saw this, he could have easily replaced that faceless man, turning the dream into a real experience for both parties. Of course, Qi Xuansu had no interest in such depraved tactics.

Since he had already seen the dreams of both Lu Shuihan and Bai Yuru, he figured he might as well take a look at Zhao Huang’s as well. With that thought, Qi Xuansu jumped into another dream.

Unlike the previous two dreams, which were bright and colorful, the third was dark and gloomy. Countless walls and alleyways formed a massive labyrinth, where Zhao Huang was running for his life. Zhao Huang constantly glanced back in fear as he sprinted forward.

Behind him, a dark silhouette was in pursuit. Although the figure moved at a leisurely walking pace, it somehow matched Zhao Huang’s frantic sprint, ensuring that Zhao Huang never gained any distance.

This scene was like a cat playing with a mouse.

Qi Xuansu suddenly found the dark figure to be strangely familiar, with a horizontal blade in the right hand and a gun in the left. Huh...it kinda looks like me. Is he traumatized by my battle with Qi Jianyuan? Or has he heard some rumors?

But he had no intention of saving Zhao Huang from his nightmare. Without a sound, he silently exited the dream.

Having traversed three dreams, Qi Xuansu now felt much more proficient in dream-entering, so he turned his sights on finding Yao Pei’s dream bubble.

The higher a person’s cultivation, the larger their dreamscape would be. For example, the Qingping Society’s Dream Meeting was set in the dream of a cultivator with immense power—one that could accommodate hundreds or even thousands of guests. Moreover, guests who entered the dream could not alter the dream setting in the slightest.

There were only a handful of Heavenly Beings within the Wanxiang Daoist Palace, and with 99% of them not dreaming, Yao Pei’s dream bubble became particularly conspicuous.

Qi Xuansu quickly entered Yao Pei’s dream. Her dream setting was a misty Jiangnan town. Buildings with black-tiled roofs and white walls lined the canals, stone bridges arched over the sides, and canopy boats drifted along the water. Raindrops pattered onto the emerald river, forming delicate ripples, while others fell onto roof tiles, creating thin, white streams along the eaves.

Bai Yuru and Zhao Huang’s dreams appeared vast, but in reality, they were confined to a small, shifting area around them. As they moved forward, new parts of the dream generated ahead, while the sections behind them faded into nothingness. This created the illusion of a boundless dreamscape, even though the actual area was quite limited.

On the other hand, Yao Pei’s dream was fully formed and stable. Though it appeared smaller, the entire town remained intact, unaffected by the dreamer’s movement—neither expanding nor vanishing.

In other words, this was a stable world that did not shift unpredictably. It bore some resemblance to the Qingping Society’s Dream Meeting, suggesting that Yao Pei could fully control her dream. She could alter it at will rather than being swept along by its flow like an ordinary dreamer.

Qi Xuansu walked around the town once before spotting Yao Pei in a pavilion by the river. She leaned against the railing, with her back facing the rippling water.

He stepped into the pavilion and got straight to the point. “Where have you been?”

Yao Pei, who also disliked small talk, answered, “Qi Jianyuan is my senior brother. He asked me for a favor, so I couldn’t refuse for the sake of our master.”

Qi Xuansu did not ask for specifics. Instead, he asked, “Where are you now? Why are we meeting in a dream?”

“I’m in the Lower Palace,” Yao Pei replied, her tone as calm as ever. “Traveling back and forth between the Upper Palace and the Lower Palace is too troublesome, so I decided to meet you in a dream instead.”

Qi Xuansu was taken aback for a moment but quickly thought that it was expected. Although the Upper and Lower Palaces were strictly separated, Yao Pei was no ordinary disciple. She even dared to enter Tianshui Core Tower, so sneaking into the Lower Palace was nothing to her. Clearly, this niece of his had done extensive research before coming to the Wanxiang Daoist Palace, treating it as nothing more than her personal backyard.

“When are you coming back to the Upper Palace?” Qi Xuansu asked.

Yao Pei countered, “Do you need something?”

Qi Xuansu suggested, “I heard from Sage Sun that the founding masters of the Wanxiang Daoist Palace sank a statue of the Confucian Sage into Xingye Lake. It contains a massive amount of divine power. Are you interested in getting it with me?”

“Oh,” Yao Pei said expressionlessly, making it impossible to tell if she was interested or not. “Actually, what I’m working on right now is somewhat related to this matter.”

“What exactly are you working on?”

Yao Pei remained silent for a moment before replying, “Hunting down cult demons.”

Qi Xuansu was momentarily stunned. “That should be Tiangang Hall’s responsibility. Why would a Deputy Ziwei Hall Master be handling it?”

Yao Pei answered, “Even though the Daoist Order enjoys criticizing the Confucians’ emphasis on father-son and sovereign-subject relations, we can’t deny that this ideology is deeply ingrained in our society. As the saying goes, family scandals should not be made public. Some matters can only be handled by our own people.”

Qi Xuansu understood immediately.

Among the Three Great Halls, Tiangang Hall was under the Zhengyi Sect, Ziwei Hall belonged to the Quanzhen Sect, and Beichen Hall was controlled by the Taiping Sect.

Sage Donghua had assigned this matter to Ziwei Hall, deliberately bypassing the more qualified Tiangang Hall. So this only meant that it involved Quanzhen Sect disciples. It was an internal scandal, and Sage Donghua wanted to keep it within the sect.

Qi Xuansu’s first guess was the Qingping Society. But he quickly dismissed that thought.

Judging by Pei Xiaolou’s attitude, the Qingping Society was an ally of the Quanzhen Sect, and their cooperation was an open secret among the upper ranks. Surely, Pei Xiaolou and his elder brother, Pei Xuanzhi, would not have such opposing views on the matter.

But if not the Qingping Society, then which secret society was it?

The Seven Treasure Pavilion was made up of merchants, so they would not act unless there was profit to be gained. The Inn had extensive ties to the Imperial Court. Even if they wanted to target the Daoist Order, they would not waste resources infiltrating the Wanxiang Daoist Palace.

The Heavenly Court was a group of madmen and reckless fools. They were capable of stirring up riots, but infiltrating the Wanxiang Daoist Palace so subtly was beyond them.

The Lingshan Witch Cult and the Cult of Fates had both caused endless trouble for the Daoist Order, often sparking nationwide crises. But the Daoist Order was not one to suffer in silence. They had retaliated fiercely, dealing heavy blows to both cults. Thus, both cults had been lying low, licking their wounds.

That left only the most mysterious cult—Ziguang Society.

Ziguang Society was unlike the Heavenly Court, the Lingshan Witch Cult, or the Cult of Fates. It had few members and operated similarly to the Qingping Society, following an elite model rather than mass recruitment.

Its members were predominantly women, carefully selected and trained from childhood. Not only were they exceptionally beautiful, but they also excelled at understanding and manipulating men, making them perfect companions and servants. Each woman was assigned a meticulously crafted identity—some became Daoist disciples, others posed as innocent daughters from a normal family, and some even came from distinguished aristocratic families.

Ziguang Society specialized in long-term infiltration, playing slow and subtle moves across generations. They embedded themselves within a family lineage, passing down membership from grandmother to mother to daughter, ensuring that nothing suspicious would be found even if the authorities were to investigate. Once these women married into another household, they became nearly impossible to detect.

With their extensive networks and careful operations, these women were like spiders weaving an invisible web across the empire. Many unsuspecting prey were ensnared—some were devoured, while others became accomplices.

Qi Xuansu tentatively asked, “Is it Ziguang Society?”

“How clever.” Yao Pei’s praise sounded rather sarcastic to Qi Xuansu. “Someone from the Quanzhen Sect has been compromised by the Ziguang Society. A high-ranking Daoist even became an official member of the secret society. My master’s stance on this is clear—the fewer people know, the better. Everything must be handled in the utmost secrecy. That’s why he sent Qi Jianyuan to deal with it.”

Qi Xuansu suddenly felt a little guilty. He was currently both a high-ranking Daoist and a C-rank member of the Qingping Society. That was why Yao Pei’s words struck a chord with him.

However, Qi Xuansu quickly reassured himself that the Ziguang Society was known as a dangerous cult, while Qingping Society was a tolerated underground faction—something the Daoist Order could turn a blind eye to. The severity was not quite the same.

Qi Xuansu changed the topic. “If a ruler is not discreet, he will lose his ministers; if a minister is not discreet, he will lose his life. Qi Jianyuan picked a fight with me the moment he arrived at the Wanxiang Daoist Palace. Is he here to deal with cult demons or flaunt his authority?”

For once, Yao Pei kept silent.

Clearly, she agreed with what Qi Xuansu said. Yet, due to her position, she was unwilling to openly criticize Qi Jianyuan in front of an outsider. That would also be considered airing her family's dirty laundry.

Qi Xuansu asked, “You mentioned the cult demon is a high-ranking Daoist. That means they should be in the Upper Palace, so why did you go to the Lower Palace?”

Yao Pei did not want to reveal too much. “It’s not just one person; it’s a group.

Besides, we still need concrete evidence for final confirmation. These people have powerful backers—if they’re going down, they should at least understand why.”

Qi Xuansu probed again, “You said this has something to do with Xingye Lake...”

“The only reason they exposed themselves was because they planned to steal the divine power within Xingye Lake,” Yao Pei admitted. “While that divine power isn’t much in the eyes of the Daoist Order, it’s an abundant resource, a massive prize to a rogue cult.”

Qi Xuansu’s expression turned solemn. He found it intolerable for these heretical scoundrels to feast on Daoist resources, so he asked, “Can I help?”

Yao Pei pondered for a moment before nodding. “Sure.”