Senior sister, stop working and go home for dinner.

Chapter 347 Welcoming Guests in the Mist

Wangchuan's masterpiece, "Senior Sister, Stop Working and Come Home for Dinner," is now available! Click to read!

Chen Anran looked around and said, "This fog is strange, and it isolates spiritual energy. At this moment, you are no different from ordinary people. It may be dangerous to act rashly. Please wait here for a while and do not scatter. Senior Feng and Senior Jiang, please look after them."

"What are you going to do?" Feng Wenyuan asked.

Chen Anran looked up at the mountaintop, his tone resolute: "I'll go up the mountain. I'll find out where this fog came from, where those blood droplets went, and what exactly happened on the mountain. I'll give everyone an explanation."

"I'll go with you!" Wei Qingyi immediately stepped forward.

"I'm going too!" Feng Xiaolu followed closely behind.

"Master, I also..." Fatty Li hurriedly began.

Chen Anran raised her hand to stop him. "Fatty, you stay. We need someone to maintain order and look after our seniors and fellow cultivators. You know the village best here; if anything goes wrong, you know what to do."

Fatty Li's gaze darted back and forth between Chen Anran, Feng Xiaolu, and Wei Qingyi. Finally, he gritted his teeth and nodded emphatically, "Master, don't worry! I'll guard you! You... be extremely careful!"

"Third Senior Sister, Second Senior Sister," Chen Anran said to Feng Xiaolu and Wei Qingyi, "the situation on the mountain is unclear, and there may be unknown dangers. If you insist on going, you must follow my arrangements and not act rashly."

"Understood, Junior Brother!" Feng Xiaolu nodded vigorously, her eyes showing fear, but even more so, determination. Wei Qingyi didn't speak, only nodded slightly, gripping her longsword even tighter.

"Huiming, you..." Chen Anran looked at Huiming, who had been silent all along.

"Amitabha," Huiming said, pressing his palms together. "This humble monk will naturally follow Master Chen."

"Okay." Chen Anran said no more, turned to face the mountain path shrouded in thick fog, and said, "Let's go."

Without further delay, the four of them, Chen Anran leading the way, followed closely by Wei Qingyi, with Feng Xiaolu and Huiming on either side, quickly stepped into the thick fog. Their figures were soon swallowed up by the grayish-white mist, leaving only the sound of their footsteps fading into the distance.

Fatty Li stared in the direction they had disappeared, wiped his face hard, and turned to look at the still-shaken crowd in the square.

Feng Wenyuan exchanged a glance with Jiang Yan and quickly began to quietly instruct the disciples of the Feng and Jiang families to tighten their defensive perimeter and comfort the wounded. At the same time, he warily watched Han Bailian, who was still kneeling on the ground as if he had lost his soul, as well as the remaining trembling elders and disciples of Longhu Mountain. Qi Lan and Shen Zui also gathered around Daoist Tianbao and began to discuss in hushed tones.

The mountain road shrouded in thick fog was more difficult to traverse than I had imagined.

The stone steps underfoot were slippery and cold, and the mist not only obscured the view but also seemed to carry a certain weight.

Chen Anran walked steadily, but he could feel the sluggishness in the flow of spiritual energy within his body. The blessing effect of the wrathful Arhat statue had long since faded, and now, being in this fog devoid of spiritual energy, he was no different from an ordinary person, relying solely on physical strength and his five senses to move forward.

Wei Qingyi followed half a step behind him, her cool eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.

Feng Xiaolu seemed a little nervous, one hand tightly gripping the hem of her clothes.

"Where did Senior Sister go?" Feng Xiaolu couldn't help but ask in a low voice. "Did those blood beads really fly towards the mountaintop?"

Chen Anran didn't turn around, her gaze fixed on the indistinct mountain path ahead: "The direction is right. As for Senior Sister... let's go up and find out what's going on."

As soon as he finished speaking, Wei Qingyi, who was walking to the side and in front of him, suddenly stopped.

"There are people ahead..."

The figures in the fog were blurry and ethereal.

Although Wei Qingyi's voice was soft, it made everyone tense. Chen Anran raised his hand to signal the three people behind him to stop, while he himself narrowed his eyes slightly, trying to penetrate the thick gray-white barrier.

The figure moved slowly in the mist, its pace deliberate, as if taking a stroll or deep in thought.

The figures in the fog gradually became clearer.

His ancient robes stood out starkly against the greyish-white mist, as if they possessed a faint glow, slightly separating the heavy dampness from the oppressive atmosphere. He walked slowly, his gait unhurried, seemingly out of place in the eerie and somber ambiance, yet strangely blending into it, as if he were a part of the mist itself.

Chen Anran stopped, raised her hand to shield Wei Qingyi and Feng Xiaolu slightly behind her, and calmly looked at the newcomer. Huiming stepped forward half a step, stood beside Chen Anran, clasped her hands together, and silently chanted.

The man stopped about three zhang away from them. His face was still handsome and gentle, just as it had been when they watched the movie from the outside that day. However, at this moment, his deep eyes no longer held the deliberate scrutiny and inquiry, but rather a complex emotion that was hard to describe.

His gaze first fell on Chen Anran, lingering for a moment, as if confirming something.

"My three senior uncles," he said in a clear voice, "I, Lu Kong, have come to greet you on the orders of my master."

Uncle-Master?

Chen Anran and her two fellow disciples looked at each other in bewilderment.

This man, who called himself Lu Kong, was someone Feng Xiaolu had seen before when they watched Wei Qingyi filming in the bamboo forest. At the time, they only felt that he had a profound aura and unpredictable movements. They never expected that he would call them "Uncle-Master".

Feng Xiaolu couldn't help but ask, her voice full of doubt, "Who is your martial uncle? And who is your master?"

Lu Kong bowed slightly, displaying impeccable manners: "Replying to Third Uncle, my master is Su Wan."

Chen Anran was stunned.

Senior Sister's...disciple?

Behind him, Wei Qingyi and Feng Xiaolu also looked surprised. Feng Xiaolu took a step forward, looking Lu Kong up and down, and asked suspiciously, "What nonsense are you talking about? When did Senior Sister take on a disciple?"

Lu Kong remained calm. "This is a long story."

After saying that, Lu Kong suddenly turned his back to everyone, looked up at the mountain, and said, "I never thought this day would come so soon..."

Chen Anran stepped forward, his gaze sharp as a knife, piercing directly at Lu Kong. He ignored Lu Kong's words and only asked, "Those blood beads, did you do them?"

Lu Kong did not answer, but stood there quietly.

Silence spread along the mountain path, with only the mist flowing silently.

Chen Anran's patience was slowly wearing thin in the silence.

He recalled the bizarre and terrifying scene in the square—living cultivators, instantly transformed into thick, pungent beads of blood, soaring through the air and disappearing into the forest. Nearly a hundred lives were lost. Regardless of whether they were good or evil beforehand, whether they were misled or driven by greed, that way of dying was far too cruel, far too…inhuman.

"Answer me," Chen Anran's tone suddenly hardened, "Did you kill those cultivators?"

All eyes were on Lu Kong.

Lu Kong finally let out a soft sigh.

He looked up, his gaze passing over Chen Anran's tense shoulders, and looking towards the mountain peaks completely swallowed by the mist. His voice was calm, almost ethereal:

"Uncle Chen, you already have the answer in your heart, don't you?"

Chen Anran stood still, his fingers, hanging by his sides, slightly curled up, then slowly relaxed. The mist dampened his hair, and droplets of water slid down his brow bone, icy cold.

"Where is Senior Sister now?" Chen Anran began, her voice calmer than expected.