Once the decision was made, the two of them wasted no time and immediately set about their tasks separately.
The old woman walked briskly down a corridor and, within moments, entered a room furnished in an extremely austere manner.
Inside, a young man clad in a white robe sat beside a stone table, his gaunt, sallow face fixed in concentration as he read a silvery book.
"Mother, what brings you here so suddenly?" The moment the old woman stepped through the door, the young man set down the book in his hands and spoke with a gentle smile.
"Er'er, pack your belongings at once. We're leaving immediately for the Yingxian Palace where the Long family resides." In stark contrast to her earlier somber demeanor, the old woman's face was now suffused with tender affection as she addressed the young man.
"The Long family! It seems the person you brought back truly is something of a handful." The young man's brow furrowed slightly upon hearing this, a note of helplessness in his voice.
"Oh? You know about this already?" The old woman looked somewhat surprised.
"Have you forgotten, Mother? My Magical Power may be modest, but I've already awakened the True Dragon bloodline and gained access to certain Divine Ear abilities. Even though I haven't left this room, I've been able to catch bits and pieces of your conversations." The young man smiled faintly.
"I see! But don't you worry, Er'er. No matter what, your father and I will transfer that person's inherited artifact safely into your body. Not only will your illness be cured, but you can use the residual spiritual energy from the inheritance to break through your current bottleneck — there's even a strong possibility you'll be able to condense a Golden Core right away. As for whoever stands behind that boy, once we're inside the Long family, they absolutely won't dare come knocking."
"Back when Master Tianjing prescribed the method of using an inherited artifact to cure my illness, the two of you have been searching ever since for a cultivator who possessed an inherited artifact with its seal still intact. I had a feeling this would bring considerable trouble. Now that you've finally found one, I imagine that even if I tried to persuade you, Mother, you wouldn't let him go easily." The young man was silent for a moment, then let out a soft sigh.
"What nonsense are you talking about? Your father and I realized we wouldn't survive another Great Heavenly Tribulation — that's why we steeled ourselves and were fortunate enough to have you. I will not allow myself to outlive my own child. As long as that person isn't one of the Three Sovereigns or Seven Demon Kings, with your uncle and grandfather here, your safety is absolutely guaranteed. Besides, now that you've awakened the True Dragon bloodline, you've effectively become a disciple of the Long family. If the Long family won't shelter you, what right do they have to call themselves the foremost True Spirit clan?" The old woman's face darkened, a faint undercurrent of resentment creeping into her words.
"Fine. If Mother has made up her mind, then we should leave immediately. That Integration-stage monster might catch up to us here before long." The young man shook his head, but his tone suddenly shifted to one of urgency.
"That can't be — I thoroughly searched that boy's body beforehand and didn't find any kind of mark left on him." The old woman was startled by this, half-believing and half-doubting.
"Mother, after all, you are not an Integration-stage cultivator. From what I know, Integration-stage cultivators have at least three or four methods to ensure that a divine-sense mark they plant will easily evade detection during a Void Refinement cultivator's spiritual sense scan. I may not have cultivated my Magical Power in all these years, but I certainly haven't read all those technique manuals for nothing." The young man gave a bitter smile.
"Er'er, you make a fair point. Then let's skip the packing and leave right away. Your father has already gone to retrieve the boy." The old woman's expression shifted, and a trace of tension entered her voice.
At the same time, in another hidden chamber, the black-browed elder was staring down at a figure lying motionless on the ground, his expression conflicted.
"Don't blame us for being ruthless, little Taoist. The only way to cure my Er'er is to take the inherited artifact from your body. Without it, your cultivation base will be completely ruined — a fate worse than death. When that time comes, I'll send you off in your sleep, painlessly." The elder murmured these words, and his expression twisted into something truly sinister.
The person on the ground was none other than little Qi Lingzi.
For reasons unknown, the old woman and her husband had done something to keep him in a deep, unbroken slumber.
The black-browed elder abruptly flipped his right hand. A flash of black light flickered between his fingers, and a talisman as black as ink materialized before him.
With a flick of his wrist, the talisman transformed into a strange greyish light that streaked into Qi Lingzi's body and vanished without a trace.
The elder then opened his mouth and exhaled a cloud of black mist, within which a small greenish bronze bell could be seen spinning round and round.
The black-browed elder raised his arm and curled one finger slightly.
A crisp "ding" rang out from within the black mist.
A bizarre scene unfolded.
Qi Lingzi, who had been lying on the ground moments before, shuddered and then rose on his own — rolling to his feet and standing before the elder with eyes tightly shut.
The young Taoist's face was utterly expressionless, like a puppet.
The elder's lips moved in silent incantation as formation seals shot from his fingers one after another, and the greenish bronze bell produced a series of clear ringing tones of varying length and pitch.
Though the bell's sound seemed perfectly ordinary, the moment it reached Qi Lingzi's ears, it coaxed his eyes slowly open.
His gaze was at first blank and unfocused, then gradually sharpened into something approaching clarity — though his face still bore not a trace of expression.
The black-browed elder exhaled in visible relief at this. He reached out, snatched the bell back into his sleeve, and without another word turned and strode out.
As the faint jingling of the bell drifted from within the sleeve, Qi Lingzi mechanically stepped forward and followed close behind, never falling a single pace short.
Shortly after, two streaks of light — one black, one grey — shot skyward from the small mountain. After a brief, circling hover, they hurtled off in the direction of the Nine Immortal Mountains.