Chapter 46: The Lingering Regret of the Ancient Melody Bird

After three days of revelry, Cloud Shadow City finally welcomed the opening of the ancient ruins. Wei Zhen led the members of the Owe Profound Sect out of the inn early, believing that if they arrived ahead of time, they could secure a favorable spot. However, upon arrival, they discovered they were actually late.

Within Valley Ghost Sect, a glance revealed a sea of heads, dense and dark. Since coming to this world, Shen Wan felt that the grand plaza of the Owe Profound Sect was already impressive, but compared to what lay before him, it was like a coaster beside a banquet table. Each sect had casually claimed a patch of ground and sat down; though a bit chaotic, everyone instinctively maintained a respectful distance between sects.

The prominent sects ranked top in the valley were arranged meticulously by Valley Ghost Sect. Not only did they have designated areas to rest, but attentive maidens served them with enthusiasm.

Wei Zhen knew well that his sect, though among the top hundred, was at the very bottom of the list. Luckily, the venue was vast, so he led his group to an unobtrusive spot to wait for the opening of the ruins.

Just as they settled down, a raspy voice rang in their ears. “Hey, isn’t that Wei the Second? What’s this—Owe Profound Sect fallen on hard times? Only brought a handful of disciples?”

Looking around, under a mulberry tree to their right, more than forty cultivators in white glared fiercely their way. In the seat of honor, a burly old man with a red beard arched his brows, eyes full of disdain.

Wei Zhen's brows twitched, but he ignored the provocation, quietly tidying his robe.

Shen Wan tilted his head to glance at the red-bearded elder, then at his second senior brother.

“Wei the Second…” The nickname could mean many things—rich in implication.

The disciples of Owe Profound Sect had never heard their elder so addressed; they exchanged puzzled looks.

Wei Zhen lowered his eyelids, his face betraying nothing, yet a cold glint at the corner of his eye gave him away.

“Thank you, Red Beard. Who are you mourning with all these brats—your father? Then you’re missing a mourning banner.”

The crowd erupted. The red-bearded elder’s group, all in white, looked like a funeral procession—add black armbands and it would be complete.

The old man’s brows shot up, his lips trembling with rage. He was about to retort when Wei Zhen, not even sparing him a glance, seemed unsatisfied and actually pulled a banner from his storage pouch.

“Third-grade mortal tier—should suffice.”

With a flourish, he tossed the banner toward the red-bearded elder.

The man gritted his teeth, glared fiercely, and before the banner could approach, it was snapped in two midair.

With two crisp sounds, the pieces hit the ground.

The old man sprang up, pointing furiously at Wei Zhen. “Wei the Second, you old scoundrel! If you’ve got guts, pick a spot and settle this with me—see if I don’t twist your guts into eight hundred knots!”

Wei Zhen stood up at once upon hearing this.

“Thank you, Red Beard. No need to change locations. I’ll stand right here and pluck every last hair from your head!”

“Come on, then! Think I’m afraid?”

“Make your move! Or are you too cowardly?”

Back and forth they bickered, neither yielding, but aside from verbal sparring, no one made a move. After all, fighting was forbidden within Valley Ghost Sect—regardless of status, anyone caught would be expelled. Neither was foolish.

Shen Wan watched his senior brother spit words with gusto, hurriedly covered his face, and scooted away, lest others realize they were acquainted.

As the sun rose, the dim sky gradually brightened.

Three chimes rang out, and the patiently waiting sects rose to their feet.

Wei Zhen and the red-bearded elder, as if by tacit agreement, fell silent simultaneously.

At that moment, seven colorful banners shot up across the grand plaza, scattering golden powder as they swept over the crowd.

Wherever the banners passed, everyone felt invigorated—a warm current coursed through their meridians, fleeting yet deeply stirring.

Moans echoed throughout the venue.

Shen Wan stood bewildered, feeling as if he’d wandered somewhere he ought not to be. If he had a phone in his pocket, he’d have called the police without hesitation.

The banners converged near the edge of the plaza, merging into one, then transformed into a seven-colored phoenix soaring into the sky.

“This… Is that the remnant will of the Ancient Fortune Bird?”

“A seven-colored Ancient Fortune Bird? How can that be?”

“I heard these creatures went extinct several cycles ago.”

“It’s just a remnant will.”

“I recall a few centuries ago, the Thousand Spirit Gate auction house sold one for thirty million top-grade spirit stones. Could this be it?”

“Surely. Since then, nothing like it has appeared on the market.”

“Valley Ghost Sect is truly extravagant!”

“Ah, Valley Ghost Sect—the first in the valley. Truly magnificent!”

“….”

Across the plaza, sects murmured in awe, stunned by the display of wealth and power.

Legend had it the Ancient Fortune Bird could boost one’s luck—a divine beast, whether true or not, Valley Ghost Sect’s spectacle won universal acclaim.

The seven-colored clouds spread, soon enveloping all of Cloud Shadow City.

After this baptism of fortune, the cultivators about to enter the ancient ruins stood tall and confident, as if assured of great opportunities, the swagger almost comical.

Shen Wan stood among them, wanting to call the police again…

Finally, while everyone was still elated, a figure strode up the main stage, steps light.

“Thank you all for coming to attend the wedding of our Valley Ghost Sect’s young master, despite your busy schedules.”

A deep, resonant voice filled the venue, and instantly, silence fell.

Everyone turned their gaze to the stage.

Shen Wan was startled once more; to him, these people seemed bewitched—at times enraptured, at times excited, now collectively silent. The synchronized mood was almost unnerving.

Following their gaze, he spotted someone speaking on the stage. Too far away to see clearly, he could only make out the slight movement of lips—like a cult leader casting spells over the crowd.

Having experienced the pre-Ten Prison Tower ceremony at Owe Profound Sect, Shen Wan understood what was happening, though adapting to it would take time.

Fortunately, the speaker was brief, wrapping up in about twenty minutes.

Afterward, commands were issued, and Shen Wan saw the crowd begin to move.

Sect after sect, disciples joined the procession, heading toward the Valley Ghost Sect’s rear mountain.

Wei Zhen summoned his eldest disciple, Wu Xi, and gave careful instructions.

Wu Xi bowed in response, then rallied those entering the ruins.

The group readied themselves, and under the guidance of the sect’s assigned leader, they joined the massive procession.

Elder Yu Yan walked slowly to Wei Zhen’s side. Watching the Owe Profound Sect disciples march off, her face shone with both pride and worry.

“The children have grown. It’s time they faced some real trials.”

Wei Zhen spoke gently, sharing Yu Yan’s feelings.

In the sect’s seventeen-hundred-year history, trials outside their control had been few and far between.

Yu Yan sighed softly.

“Let’s hope they return safe and sound.”

Gradually, the packed venue thinned to scattered clusters.

Watching the departing disciples, Wei Zhen finally turned to the other elders and Yu Yan.

“Let’s go; Valley Ghost Sect has prepared a lounge for us. We can return to the inn and wait.”

The elders nodded. The ruins would be open for ten days, so Valley Ghost Sect had prepared resting places for each sect.

Thus, guided by “staff,” they moved off.

As they neared the main hall, Wei Zhen sensed something amiss.

He turned instinctively, scanning the elders.

Something was missing.

Then, a sudden realization hit him.

That little rascal Shen Wan… was gone again!