When David got up and left the Sutra Repository, he had already made a complete assessment of the situation of the outer sect of the Tian Shu Sect.
Among the more than 300 people in the area under investigation, at least dozens, like Ye Qing, have been placed under the shackles of orthodoxy because of their “deviation” in their Dao foundation.
They were confined in this stone house, forced to undergo “orthodox Taoist teachings” day after day. Each “tutoring” session would forcibly instill the operating path of orthodox Taoist teachings into their bodies, attempting to completely cover and rewrite their Taoist foundation.
When the overwrite fails and cannot be corrected, they will be sent to the Heavenly Trial Realm.
On his way back to the stone house, David suddenly sensed a very subtle gaze.
He turned his head without making a sound and saw a figure standing in front of the window of the outer elders’ courtyard.
She was a middle-aged woman with a cool and aloof appearance, wearing the brocade robe of an inner sect elder of the Tian Shu Sect. She possessed an extraordinary temperament and a restrained Daoist aura, and her cultivation level was at the fourth rank of Immortal Lord.
She was looking at him too.
The two locked eyes for a moment across the darkness. In that gaze were scrutiny, wariness, and something extremely faint and indescribable.
David withdrew his gaze, turned and walked into the stone house, closing the door behind him.
He sat down against the wall, closed his eyes, and a very faint smile appeared on the corners of his mouth.
The twenty-sixth heaven has cracks.
And he will begin from this crack, tearing open the entire cage of orthodoxy.
The following night, after the entire outer gate fell silent, a very faint knock sounded outside David’s stone house.
A cold, aloof middle-aged woman stood outside the door.
She stood in the night, looking at the door David had opened, her tone calm yet carrying an ancient, oppressive weight: “My name is Ling Shuang. Inner sect elder of the Tian Shu Sect.”
The way you looked at number seventy-three during the day doesn’t fool me. You’re no ordinary ascended cultivator.
David leaned against the doorframe, his purple eyes calmly looking at her: “What are you doing here?”
Ling Shuang remained silent for a moment, then raised her eyes to look at the majestic Heavenly Palace of the World Patrol in the distance. Her voice was cold and clear: “I will tell you a story. It is about how, three thousand years ago, my Daoist partner was captured by the World Patrol Division, sent to the Heavenly Trial, had his essence drained, was reshaped into a puppet, and then sent back to me.”
“Then I’ll tell you what the Heavenly Trial is, what heresy is, what orthodoxy is, and what the Border Patrol Bureau is.”
“After you finish speaking, you can decide for yourself whether or not to take action.”
David stepped aside to let the door open.
“Come in and speak.”
David stepped aside to clear the doorway, and Ling Shuang stepped into the stone house.
Her footsteps were extremely light, almost making no sound. Her aura was completely concealed, so much so that even the spirit lamp inside the stone house did not sway.
David noticed that the moment she stepped across the threshold, she flicked out an extremely thin silver light thread from her fingertip. The light thread spread silently along the inner wall of the stone house, weaving a thin, cicada-wing-like barrier on the four walls, the floor, and the ceiling.
The entire process was smooth and effortless, with not a trace of spiritual energy leaking out; the skill was so adept it was almost heartbreaking.
“There were already patrol marks from the Border Patrol Bureau inside the stone house,”
Ling Shuang spoke, her voice very low, as if she hadn’t spoken at a normal volume in a long time, “My isolation net can suppress them temporarily, but it can only last for the time it takes for an incense stick to burn.”
After an incense stick has burned, the mark will automatically revert to its original state and report an ‘abnormal fluctuation.’ Therefore, we don’t have much time to speak.
David nodded slightly, sat down at the table, and gestured for her to sit down as well.
Ling Shuang did not sit. She stood in the center of the stone house, her back to the spirit lamp, her face shrouded in shadow, only her clear, cold eyes gleaming faintly in the darkness.
She remained silent for a moment, as if sorting out her thoughts over three thousand years, before slowly speaking.
“Three thousand years ago, I was just an ordinary disciple of the inner sect of the Tian Shu Sect, with a cultivation level of only the second rank of Immortal Lord.”
My Daoist partner is named Shen Yue. He is an outer disciple with an even lower cultivation level, only at the first rank of Immortal Lord.
But his talent is very special. He was born with the ability to sense the most subtle Daoist fluctuations between heaven and earth. He can understand the core of any cultivation method or Daoist technique after just one look.
People in the sect called him “The Eye of Daoist Rhyme.”
Her voice was calm, as if she were telling someone else’s story, but David could sense a very faint tremor in her aura.