Let Me Explain, Fairy
Chapter 583 - Three Hundred Seventy: Secrets and Undercurrents

Chapter 583: Chapter Three Hundred Seventy: Secrets and Undercurrents

At the summit peak, four figures stood upon an arced platform.

Gazing into the distance, the beautiful vista of a myriad of mountains and rivers lay entirely in their view, while the rustling cold wind at the summit swept over their richly adorned robes.

A beautiful woman with a composed figure, an old man hunched over a walking stick, a handsome middle-aged man, and a fat man.

Despite their differing appearances, what they had in common was that the aura of each individual at the summit was as long and unending as the tide, impenetrably deep.

The four stood in silence atop the mountain, bracing against the cold wind for about half an hour.

"Tsk."

Suddenly, a clicking tongue broke the silence, its rough voice filled with dissatisfaction:

"Taishiran, did you summon us to this summit peak with the Heavenly Pavilion Mandate just to have us join you in this northwesterly wind?"

As these words fell,

The other three turned their gazes in the direction from which the voice came.

It was the somewhat rotund middle-aged man.

Fat cheeks squeezed his eyes into slits, and from these small eyes, a chill and ruthless gaze emanated.

Seeing the others looking his way, the fat man’s squinting eyes also passed over the rest of them.

Those caught in his gaze slightly furrowed their brows.

Especially the middle-aged beautiful woman, whose eyes instantly showed a trace of disgust as her gaze met his.

A whirl of aura visibly emerged around her, causing a few pebbles to scatter as her light silk white dress embroidered with exquisite flowers and birds fluttered.

As the Tiexuan Sect was known for its weapon forging prowess, this fat man’s cultivated Spirit Soul Divine Eyes were said to have the ability to penetrate objects and see their innermost essences.

Seeing the beautiful woman become agitated, the fat man’s cold narrowed eyes showed a hint of helplessness, yet he offered no explanation.

The misunderstanding caused by his cultivation technique had led many to prejudice against him.

Over the years, he had grown accustomed to it.

In the ensuing silence,

"Heh..."

A light chuckle sounded, and the attractive middle-aged man slowly spoke:

"Another friend is on their way. Elder Zhou, please be patient."

The middle-aged fat man raised his eyebrows at this and scanned the group again, speaking with evident interest:

"Oh? And who might that be, Taishiran? Which fellow daoist have you invited this time?"

Taishiran smiled faintly and said in a low voice:

"Has Brother Zhou ever heard the name Jing Tingxi?"

"....."

At the mention of the name, the pupils of the other three present suddenly contracted.

It was a name they were all too familiar with.

After all, they had all lived through that era.

Jing Tingxi was a name that overshadowed all others in their generation.

An upstart with no known origins who, with the help of Evil Cultivation Techniques, had terrorized the world and even under a pseudonym had come out on top in the great Tianyuan competition.

If it were not for Xu Yinhè’s meteoric rise, this man could well have been considered the most preeminent genius of their time.

However, Jing Tingxi vanished as quickly as he had appeared, like a meteor streaking across the sky; after a period of brilliance, he suddenly went silent.

Among the higher-ups of the Sects, there were rumors that this was because Jing Tingxi had tried to assassinate the former emperor using a special secret technique.

But the Imperial Palace was nothing if not heavily guarded, blessed by a Saint, protected by great arrays, and with powerful military formations constantly manned by experts.

Jing Tingxi was naturally inferior and was directly killed by a powerful figure within the palace.

It seems now...

At this thought, the old man furrowed his brow and spoke up:

"Brother Taishi, are you saying that Jing Tingxi didn’t die within the great confines of the Imperial Palace?"

Taishiran let out a light chuckle as the mountain breeze caressed the corner of his lips, his tone relaxed:

"He didn’t. Back then, he only sustained severe injuries and escaped."

The middle-aged beautiful woman, with her elegant and composed demeanor, lightly furrowed her brows and opened her cherry lips, releasing a faint fragrance, her voice tinged with a hint of anticipation:

"Brother Ran, does this trip entail Jing Tingxi’s participation?"

"Not at all."

Taishiran shook his head, his tone indifferent: "He is already dead."

The beautiful woman’s eyes fell at the news, sighing inwardly.

The fat man, appearing somewhat agitated, said sharply:

"Taishiran, are you playing us? If he’s dead, then why bring him up?"

"Brother Zhou is still the same, so direct as always."

Taishiran wasn’t annoyed. He chuckled and replied, "If I mention him, of course, there’s a connection."

And with that,

he let out a light laugh and continued:

"Though Jing Tingxi is dead, he still has quite a few acquaintances in this world... whether they be romantic interests or close friends."

Having said this, Taishiran glanced briefly at the middle-aged beautiful woman.

All present saw this look from Taishiran.

The elder pretended not to see it.

The fat man’s eyes revealed an amused smile.

The dignified middle-aged beautiful woman had a notorious reputation in her youth and had had romantic episodes with many a rising star.

Ran Jianli, Xu Yinhè, Jing Tingxi... she had approached each of these top geniuses.

Of course, the first two didn’t seem to have reciprocated her affections, while the latter was well-known for his romantic exploits and probably had some wonderful memories with her.

Certainly, these were things of which her current husband was unaware.

After all, her husband was her disciple and only now was reaching his forties.

Naturally, the beautiful middle-aged woman knew what the three were thinking and scoffed, her voice no longer gentle:

"Since friends of Jing Tingxi are willing to assist, does our purpose here relate to Jing Tingxi’s death?"

Taishiran gazed towards the horizon, his reply unhurried:

"It is related."

"Related?"

"Of course."

Taishiran’s eyes flashed sharply, but his tone remained light: "After all, our mission should be considered an act of revenge against the murderer who killed Jing Tingxi."

The fat man stroked his plump chin: