Chapter 682: All the Fourth Realm Cultivators

After Wang Ping finished reading Wei Kong’s file, his Communication Token pulsed with energy. It was a message from Mansu, one of the nine second-in-commands of the Daoist Palace. The message was about two things: first, he reminded Wang Ping to dispatch disciples to assist in the search for Wei Kong. Second, he asked when Wang Ping planned to visit the Chongxing Taoist, adding that he would come to Qianmu Temple to go with him.

He was another impatient one. In fact, most Cultivators who returned from the front lines were impatient, which could be considered a strength. Anything they handled would be taken care of immediately.

“You’re so busy. What is it now?”

Yu Lian asked.

Wang Ping casually told Yu Lian what was going on, then asked, “Who do you think we should send to search for Wei Kong?”

Yu Lian tilted her head and thought for a moment. “There’s Commander Leng Kezhen, a Former Guard Captain, and Xiu Yu’s head disciple, Qingjiang. I saw them in the square just now. They’ve both already advanced to the Third Realm. If we also assign some Second Realm Cultivators from the Southern Cultivation Realm, that should be more than enough.”

“Heh…”

Wang Ping chuckled. “You certainly have a knack for picking people. You know that once they accept this mission, they might have to spend the rest of their lives dealing with Outer Realm Demons.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing for them!”

Yu Lian replied softly.

Wang Ping nodded thoughtfully. ‘Leng Kezhen was my choice as well.’ As for Qingjiang, he had actually forgotten the man even existed. Both of them were in an awkward position in the Southern Cultivation Realm—or rather, in the entire Cultivation Realm. They were like rootless duckweed, forced to depend on Qianmu Temple for their survival.

“Did you notice an aura inside Leng Kezhen that doesn’t belong to her?”

Wang Ping’s Primordial Spirit swept across all of Qianmu Temple, locking onto Leng Kezhen’s aura in an instant.

Yu Lian sounded unconcerned. “I noticed it the first time I saw her. It’s the aura of a magical artifact array from Qiuwang, the Sect Leader of the Single Saber Sect. But I didn’t sense any obvious backlash, which at least means Qiuwang gave his magical artifact array to her voluntarily.”

Wang Ping nodded in agreement.

Then, he took out the handwritten letter that the Chongxing Taoist had sent him via Li Miaolin. What he hadn’t told Ao Hong was that the letter contained a meeting address.

Wang Ping’s gaze rested on the address for a moment. Then, an imperceptible wisp of Wood Spirit emerged and shredded the letter to pieces.

“You’re going to see him?”

“Yes, but I don’t have to go in person.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m a Taiyan Cultivator!”

Wang Ping summoned the Pocket World Mirror. His vision blurred, and in the next instant, he was in a cavern deep beneath Qianmu Mountain. When the mountain had been relocated, the entire landmass was moved. Although the subterranean Dark River had been re-charted, the mountain’s underground caverns remained unchanged.

Once in the cavern, Wang Ping sat cross-legged on a stone dais and connected his consciousness to the Pocket World Mirror. It didn’t take long for him to lock onto a puppet he had placed in Shangjing City.

「Shangjing City.」

Datong Country had established its capital here upon its founding.

Present-day Shangjing City is divided into three main districts. The largest is South City, situated south of the Nong River, where most of the common folk reside. North City is home to the families of the capital’s various officials and the Royal Family, and it is further subdivided into twelve wards. Farther north still lies Yong’an Palace, a district in itself, reserved exclusively for the Emperor’s residence and as a workplace for all government officials.

The three districts are connected by Yong’an Dao, which runs through the city’s center. The four-sided city walls also have twelve major gates connecting to six main streets.

「South City District.」

Inside a private room at the Pingwang Inn, the shopkeeper, a man in his fifties, was taking a break and smoking a long-stemmed pipe. Suddenly, a flash of Spiritual Light flickered in his eyes. As if recalling something important, he shot to his feet, expertly knocked his pipe against the corner of the table, and pushed the door open to exit.

This was, of course, Wang Ping’s puppet!

For a Taiyan Cultivator engaging in clandestine affairs, puppets were the perfect tool.