Chapter 158 Falling into a Trap

The matriarch joined the circle of her longstanding sisters, while Ning Ruoying hurried off to mingle with her close friends. Ning Ruotong trailed behind Yu Youwei, following her lead, and found a quiet corner to sit, casually commenting on the renowned ladies gathered within the hall.

The Shufang Hall exuded an understated elegance. The cushions on the chairs appeared simple and plain, yet were crafted from cloud-patterned kesi silk—a material typically reserved for making ceremonial robes—rendering these cushions a rare luxury in the cultivation world. The tea served was a premium spiritual brew, rich with aura, presented in delicate blue-and-white porcelain cups. Yet the signature inscribed on the cups bore the name “Leisurely Bamboo Hermit,” the renowned master artificer Yao Li’s pseudonym.

Yu Youwei, well-versed in the cultivation realm, was familiar with Yao Li. Thanks to Ning Ruotong’s explanations, she learned that Yao Li’s mother was the aunt of the late emperor of the Qian Dynasty and had once shared a brotherly bond with him. For nearly a century, Yao Li had not appeared in public nor produced any new artifacts, with rumors suggesting he had secluded himself within the imperial palace.

Seclusion within the palace itself implied that Yao Li’s relationship with the late emperor was exceptionally close—or perhaps it was due to his unparalleled talent in artifact forging.

Holding the twin swords Chiqing in her hands, Yu Youwei felt little curiosity about Yao Li himself, but found herself captivated by the exquisite relief carvings adorning the hall’s walls and ceiling.

“Sister-in-law, do you understand formation arrays?” Ning Ruotong asked curiously.

“Are those reliefs depicting formation arrays?” Yu Youwei replied with a question of her own.

The intricate carvings on the walls and ceiling were lifelike, and embedded within them were array formations: the ceiling’s star cloud pattern contained a Radiance Formation, while the floral reliefs on the four walls concealed the Gentle Breeze and Dust-Repelling formations. Ning Ruotong was unsure if there were others, but though Yu Youwei did not understand formations, she could sense that there must be even more formidable offensive and defensive arrays concealed within.

Cradling her tea cup, Yu Youwei’s gaze lingered among the wall reliefs. The palace maid who had served her tea stood silently at her side; Yu Youwei assumed this was palace protocol and paid it no mind.

After a while, as Yu Youwei showed no intention of drinking, the maid’s eyes flickered with anxiety. Just then, Ning Ruotong refilled her tea, saying, “This tea is quite good. Sister-in-law, please try some.” The maid’s eyes brightened once more, a subtle expression that caught Yu Youwei’s attention as she turned around.

As her lips touched the rim of the cup and she inhaled the tea’s fragrance, a faint, elusive scent of Fireshade Blossom mingled with the aroma. Instinctively sensing something amiss, Yu Youwei smiled and snatched the cup from Ning Ruotong, teasing, “You forgot what Aunt Qi told you—drink less tea.” She then brought the cups beneath her nose to sniff, confirming the absence of the Fireshade Blossom scent. With a calm demeanor, she handed both cups back to the maid.

The maid pretended to fumble when taking the cups, causing the tea to splash out. Simultaneously, a subtle gust of finger wind struck Ning Ruotong’s right knee. Ning Ruotong cried out in pain and leaned toward Yu Youwei, who caught her without hesitation, disregarding the tea splashing onto her skirt.

“Are you alright?”

“My leg cramped up—an old problem,” Ning Ruotong replied.

By coincidence, Ning Ruotong did suffer from leg pain, which prevented Yu Youwei from confirming whether the maid had tampered with the tea. Suppressing her suspicions, she followed the maid to the inner chamber to change clothes.

Among Aunt Qi’s instructions the previous night was the advice to bring two additional sets of clothes to prepare for such unexpected incidents.

Besides the lotus-colored robe gifted by the Water Ancestor of the Xianchen Sect, the wardrobe in the Biwu Garden held three more robes, each with dust-cleansing and purification properties, though their designs were less elegant than ordinary garments.

Over the past two months, Ning family’s covert guards had accompanied Yu Youwei everywhere, silently handling any lecherous troublemakers encountered outside. Apart from a rare occasion at Wanxiang Tower when Yu Youwei herself initiated a fight in frustration, she seldom engaged in combat, and typically did not wear robes.

Today, she wore an ivory-white jacket embroidered with lilacs, paired with a flowing pale purple skirt that swayed with each step, lilac patterns fluttering like blossoms in the breeze. The tea stain on the hem was inconspicuous and could be steamed away with her internal energy, but for the family’s honor, she had to change.

She switched into a vibrant magenta, waist-cinched pomegranate skirt and adjusted her appearance before the mirror embedded in the wall. Yet, as she concentrated on the maid beside her, the woman vanished without a trace in the blink of an eye.

Was this maid a formidable expert? Yu Youwei shook her head, leaning more toward the belief that she had fallen into some kind of formation array.

The mirror embedded in the wall began to fill with white mist, and soon she found herself immersed in a boundless fog. Her body was seized by an unseen, mysterious force, irresistibly propelled forward.

Yu Youwei struggled to regain control of her body but only heard the rushing wind in her ears as she continued to fly forward. How long she traveled, she did not know; her head grew dizzy, yet she caught a faint scent of fresh foliage.

Was this an illusion?

As the thought crossed her mind, the scene before her suddenly brightened. The scenery transformed abruptly.

Sunlight pierced through the clouds above, casting a shimmering veil-like heavenly ladder descending over a valley winding from the horizon.

Below, the sparkling river mirrored the sunlight, while gray ferns sprouted from the rocky crevices along the riverbank, glistening faintly.

This was exactly the same as the space divided by formation arrays within the Yunhuang Marsh!

The vision was so vivid that Yu Youwei could not discern reality from illusion. The sunlight breaking through the clouds made her dizzy. Countless similar images and outlines overlapped repeatedly, swaying and converging with the shifting sunlight.

Deep within the palace’s shadows, in a dimly lit hall, Emperor Qian sat alone facing the wall. The large Shadow Stone occupying half the wall displayed the scene Yu Youwei saw—yet without her presence.

“Where is this place? It doesn’t seem to be on the Eastern Continent,” he murmured.

Behind Emperor Qian, the silent figure of the old ancestral gardener of the Xiang family emerged. He stared in horror at the image. “That is the God’s Remnant Space.”

“What is the Demon’s Remnant Space?” Many secrets were kept closely guarded by the ancestors; even Emperor Qian dared not inquire too deeply. For instance, the order to eliminate Yu Tianming was given by the ancestors, but the reasons remained unknown to him.

The old gardener gave no answer, his gaze fixed intently on the Shadow Stone.

The flickering image on the Shadow Stone gradually stabilized, coalescing into a vast picture—somewhat blurred and speckled with grainy spots. The shaft of sunlight illuminating part of the image revealed a leafy border, seemingly a wooded path with gentle undulations. In the middle of the path was a blurry black figure, apparently walking.

Just as Emperor Qian resigned himself to receive no explanation, the old gardener spoke, his words vague but weighty: “In ancient times, when the demon realm invaded, the spatial barrier once collapsed. Human and demon cultivators united to repel the demon alliance and rebuilt the barrier. Yet fragments tainted by demonic energy could not be cleansed and were sealed away, known as the Demon’s Remnant Space.”

“Who entered the Demon’s Remnant Space?”

The question startled Emperor Qian, who thought the old ancestor had lost his wits. “This is extracting Yu Youwei’s memories—it must mean she entered the Demon’s Remnant Space.”

The old gardener shook his head. “There’s no way her strength allowed her to enter that space. It must be that her father left some information for her. That Qing Shuang sword is a bloodline treasure. Yu Tianming likely knew his days were numbered, so he stored crucial information within the sword, which this girl has obtained. Do not alarm her; follow her quietly, and you will gain much.”

And so the mystery deepened.