ws became even more firmly locked as her gaze drifted about.
She wrote away rapidly, but her attention did not seem to be on the document in front of her at all.
Instead, she was thinking of something else…

Actually, no matter how busy or difficult the affairs became, it was not too much of a problem for a Yang Soul cultivator to deal with them.
Just a single thought from her surpassed three whole days and nights of pondering by so-called wise men among mortals.

What truly troubled her was actually the same thing as the Qingyang Master.
It was the incoming crisis of the world.

Her position was higher than the Qingyang Master’s.
She was closer to the “sky”, so she could see many more things—she had already caught the bloody scent of war, as well as the foul smell of death.

With her talent and cultivation, she had already possessed the opportunity to become the “first senior sister”, but the “lord of the country” needed to preside over the battles in the Demon domain.
It was exactly for distancing herself from war that she settled on being the “prime minister” for all this time.
She cherished herself.
She cultivated arduously for longevity, not to throw her life at demonfolk.

However, when it came to certain matters, it was useless no matter how clever she was.
Once the crisis of the world arrived, even True Immortals would struggle to protect themselves, let alone a measly Yang Soul cultivator.

Not to mention the fact that a True Immortal had already perished the moment the daemon star of misfortune, Yinghuo, emerged.
Regular cultivators might not have been able to distinguish between the gods and the trichiliocosm, but she could.

Back then, she watched the star erupt brightly with her own eyes before shooting across the sky and falling to the ground.
Under her whirling thoughts, everything regarding it in her memories seemed so slow as if it fell inch by inch.

And in the pitch-black depths of the sky, a scarlet star suddenly began to shine, which led to an entire night of nightmares for her.

After that, she changed.
Fear, anxiety hung over her head like a catastrophe.
Her thoughts were also riddled with troubles that foolish men among mortals were unable to think through with three whole days and nights of pondering.
She was like a gambler who owed a colossal debt with the creditor about to visit tomorrow with over a dozen lackeys, yet she was unable to produce a single cent.

The atmosphere over the entire Myriad sect changed as well.
The Spirit Reverend of Ocean Returnance closed the Pavilion of Heavenly Tomes.
He stopped reading and stopped meeting with anyone.

The direct disciples all began to cultivate desperately or gather arcane treasures and weapons for the crisis.
More and more middle-sized and smaller sects wanted to merge with the Myriad sect.

Strangely enough, beyond the Nine Heavens instead fell into silence.
The stars all seemed to be stunned by the daemon star of misfortune, monetarily uncertain about how to respond, or perhaps they had a much deeper plan in mind.

As a result, with Human Immortal as the boundary, the cultivators below all began to worry and seek out paths of survival, like ants right before a storm, desperately climbing up a tree.
The gods, immortals, and emperors above instead became completely silent, so much so they refused to pass any orders.
Who knew what they were planning with their slight understanding of the scarlet star that appeared in the sky.

Within this confusion and silence, there seemed to be an invisible string being drawn.
The moment it snapped was when everything before her eyes would collapse.

And, there was a very ill omen that tormented her vaguely, as if something bad was about to happen to her very soon.
Even worse, she was unable to verify whether this was just regular fear or if something was actually going to happen.

All she could do was concentrate on the work before her eyes, clinging onto the hint of sensation of control over fate.
Her scribbling right hand left behind a string of afterimages, filling up pages like a printer.
Right when she felt like she was about to succeed, the female disciple from earlier entered again and immediately broke her train of thought.

“What now?” There was a hint of irritation in her voice.

“Third senior sister, the Qingyang Master has a female disciple who says she’s an acquaintance of the first senior brother,” the female disciple said shakily.

Dai Mengfan stopped writing and raised her head.
“Really now?”

“That’s what he said.”

“Send them in… hold on, I better meet with them myself!”

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