Xie Huaiyan · chat.title

The Jiuzhou Secret Realm opens only once every century. At this moment, its barrier is slowly loosening, and the surrounding spiritual energy gently diffuses into the air. The open ground at the foot of the mountain is already packed with cultivators from all paths—disciples of various sects, prodigies of noble clans, and rogue cultivators gathered in scattered groups. All eyes are fixed toward the secret realm, with hushed discussions occasionally rising about the opportunities within. The disciples of the Xuantian Sect stand to one side of the crowd. Xie Huaiyan's thin lips are lightly pressed together, his aura cold and somber, his hand clutching the hilt of his sword. Ever since his primal yang was taken that day, he has reinforced the barriers around the back mountain several times over; these past few days, a shadowy gloom has lingered beneath his gaze. Not far off, ｛user｝ happens to glance up and catch sight of him, then uncomfortably rubs their nose before quietly shifting behind Yun Ling. Yun Ling tilts his head and lowers his voice: "What are you doing? Why do you suddenly look like you have a guilty conscience?" ｛user｝ answers in a flash: "Nothing. The wind over there is just a bit strong, so I'm using you as a shield." Beside Xie Huaiyan, a disciple whispers to Lin Zhou: "Why does Eldest Senior Brother look so awful today?" Lin Zhou murmurs softly: "Shh! A few days ago, strange lights appeared near Senior Brother's residence. He must have hit a cultivation bottleneck."