Bai Yunxian's voice drifted from the rear, cool and sharp as a winter wind. "Talking less and sensing more would serve you better. There are rats in the tall grass."
Yun Shu's smile didn't falter, but her eyes sharpened. She had felt them, too. Two groups, moving with the practiced stealth of hunters who preferred human prey over beasts.
They emerged from the thicket at a clearing near a crystalline stream.
Two distinct groups of cultivators blocked their path. On the left were the "Viper Pavilion" disciples, identifiable by their sickly green robes and the faint scent of poison that clung to them.
On the right was a group of rogue cultivators led by three men who looked more like bandits than seekers of the Dao.
The leader of the rogues, a man with a scarred face and a greedy glint in his eyes, stepped forward. His gaze swept over the bags of loot hanging from the disciples' waists—bags that were bursting with high-grade cores and rare herbs collected under Yun Shu's guidance.
