81: Chapter 81 A Powerful Clan Spying, an Envoy Approaching

The night wind was still blowing, and the mist over the Medicinal Field had not dissipated.

But the figure on the high slope was gone.

When Chen Wuwang stood up from the ground, a thin layer of frost had fallen on his shoulders, like armor condensed from the night air.

He took one last look at the faint glow in the depths of the Medicinal Field, did not look at the Soul-Returning Tree again, and did not touch that pile of scrap metal shells—everything that needed to be done had been done; now it was someone else's turn to be tempted.

He raised his hand and tapped his arm ring, and the data stream of his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye switched instantly: the lurking mecha was in normal status, and the signal node was still leaking in a breathing pattern.

Three quarters of an hour ago, a strange spiritual sense wave swept across the West Ridge direction, lasting less than two breaths, precisely locking onto an abandoned cave five miles away from the signal source.

It was a spy.

And not an ordinary spy—one capable of using short-frequency detection to bypass standard security Formations was at least an elite from a Great Clan's intelligence unit.

"They are here," he whispered, not as a question, but as a confirmation.

He walked back along the ridge of the field, his steps neither fast nor slow, just like a normal inspection of the territory.

Passing the perimeter of the Artifact Refining Workshop, he heard the sound of metal being struck inside, the rhythm steady; it was Chen Tiezhu's men working overtime.

He did not go in, only pausing at the door for half a second. He tapped his arm ring lightly with his fingertip, and an encrypted command was sent out: "Ash Contingency Plan · Preparatory Level" maintain standby, all surveillance data to be backed up to the Main Hall secret vault in real-time.

Then he continued walking.

Passing through three streets, he went by a patrol point guarded by medicinal attendants. Someone saw him and wanted to salute, but he waved his hand, and the other person immediately shut up and stepped back.

The entire Chen Family territory looked calm, but in reality, a string was taut in the air—he knew that some people had already sensed something was wrong.

The high platform outside the Council Hall was his first stop tonight.

It was not yet dawn; the morning mist pressed against the eaves, and the stone steps were damp.

He stood at the edge of the platform, his back to the open space below. In front of him was a 3D projection of the entire Chen Family main domain, generated simultaneously by several small spiritual energy towers; mountains, rivers, workshops, fields, and watchtowers were clearly visible.

In the center of the projection, the Medicinal Field area was circled by a faint red dashed line; that was the mark of a Level 2 alert.

In less than the time it takes to burn an incense stick, three people who looked like clan elders hurried over, dressed in casual clothes, without attendants, their steps hurried but deliberately light.

They stood still under the platform, looked at each other, and no one spoke first.

Chen Wuwang did not turn around either.

"The news has spread," he said suddenly.

The three of them were shocked.

"Who?" the Li Family elder couldn't help but ask.

"I don't know." Chen Wuwang finally turned around, his gaze sweeping over them, "But I know that last night someone scanned the west side of the Medicinal Field with high-frequency spiritual waves. The technique was clean, leaving no traces; it was aimed at that 'loophole'."

He paused, "They believed it."

Their expressions changed. Deacon Lin said in a low voice: "Then... will this attract the Great Clans?"

"It's not a matter of will it or won't it."

Chen Wuwang's voice was as flat as the surface of a blade, "It is that they have already come. I just received a secret report that the East Ling Zhao Clan has convened an internal meeting ahead of schedule, and one of the agenda items is the 'Chen Family Medicinal Field Anomaly'."

"In addition, the Northern Plains Sun Clan dispatched two Soul Transformation realm retainers. Last night, they crossed the border and entered our airspace by thirty miles before being driven away by the early warning Formation."

He looked at the three: "You are panicked now because you don't know what I am doing. I can tell you—I am not guarding against a mutation; I am fishing. The bait has been cast, and the fish has bitten. Next, it depends on whether we can hold the rod steady."

"But what if..." the Xu Family elder started to say, then swallowed his words.

"There are no 'what ifs'," Chen Wuwang interrupted, "The Great Clans won't act directly. They care about their face and they care about the rules. So they won't send assassins, they won't issue a declaration of war, but they will send 'envoys'."

"Envoys?" the Li Family elder frowned.

"Under the banner of 'concern for allies' and 'discussing important matters', they will come to ask about the situation, to investigate the root cause, and to test our bottom line." Chen Wuwang sneered, "They will be polite, bring gifts, and say decent things, but their eyes will be fixed on the depths of the Medicinal Field, wanting to know what we are really hiding."

The three were silent.

They understood. This was not a crisis; it was a test.

A test of whether the Chen Family had the guts to weather this storm, and a test of whether the Alliance could hold together under pressure.

"Then what... should we do?" Deacon Lin asked.

"As usual," Chen Wuwang said, "The Medicinal Field patrols will not stop, the Artifact Refining Workshop will continue production as normal, and the rotation training for the disciples of each clan will continue as usual. Do not impose martial law, do not block roads, and certainly do not hold mobilization meetings. I want everyone to know—the sky has not collapsed, the earth has not split, and the roots of the Chen Family are heavier than their suspicions."

He scanned the three: "When you go back, pass the word along the same way. If anyone talks nonsense and shakes the morale of the people, I don't mind sending him to guard the border watchtowers for three years."

The three responded in unison and bowed their heads to withdraw.

Chen Wuwang did not keep them. He knew that this news would seep into the soil like water and slowly spread.

Panic would not disappear immediately, but it would change from "exploding" to "wait-and-see". As long as no one took the lead in running, the situation could be controlled.

He turned and walked down the high platform, heading straight for the square in front of the Main Hall.

At this time, the horizon was just turning a grayish-blue, and the first wave of medicinal attendants and technicians had already begun to line up for roll call.

There were quite a few people in the square, in groups of three or five, speaking in low voices, but their eyes occasionally glanced towards the Main Hall.

Obviously, the matter of the Medicinal Field had already spread, although no one could clearly say what exactly had gone wrong.

Chen Wuwang did not use the main entrance.

He came out from the side corridor and walked step by step towards the center of the crowd. His steps were not fast, but each step felt like it was treading on a heartbeat.

He wore no armor, no protective gear, just a black fitted outfit, his silver hair tied behind his head, the Mechanical Prosthetic Eye in his left eye gleaming coldly in the morning light.

The crowd automatically parted to form a path.

Where he walked, the voices died down bit by bit.

No one dared to ask, and no one dared to move. They were all waiting, waiting for the Head of the Chen Family to say a word, to give the next order, a signal.

Chen Wuwang walked to the center of the square, stopped, and his gaze slowly swept across every face.

There were young ones, old ones, Chen Family members, and disciples from the allied clans.

In their eyes, there was confusion, fear, and also anticipation.

He spoke, his voice not loud, yet it carried far:

"The wind hasn't arrived yet, and the tree has already fallen?"

The crowd fell silent.

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly, and he repeated again: "The roots planted by my Chen Family cannot be pulled up by a gust of wind."

No one spoke.

"Perform your duties," he ordered, "The Medicinal Field patrols will continue as usual, the Artifact Refining Workshop will not stop production, and the rotation training plan will remain unchanged. If anyone stops their work because of a few pieces of gossip outside, I do not need such people to remain in the Chen Family."

After speaking, he turned and left.

No one stopped him, and no one dared to move. It wasn't until his back disappeared into the entrance of the Main Hall side hall that the crowd seemed to thaw, slowly recovering their voices.

But the atmosphere had changed.

It was no longer panic, but a suppressed tension, a "wait and see" emotion.

He knew that this hurdle had been passed.

Inside the Main Hall side hall, the light was dim, with only one spiritual lamp lit in the corner. He sat at the desk, his fingers resting on his arm ring, waiting for the final secret report.

Ten breaths later, a golden talisman slipped in through a crack in the window, hovered in the air, and unfurled into a line of small characters:

[The East Ling Zhao Clan has dispatched envoys, with a gift delegation of three, departing today, expected to arrive at the Chen Family main domain within three days. Purpose: To express concern for the Alliance's construction progress and to inquire about the rumors of the Medicinal Field anomaly.]

Chen Wuwang finished reading, flicked his finger, and the golden talisman turned to ash.

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for three seconds.

They were coming.

Not spies, not assassins, but envoys.

Coming openly and aboveboard.

This was the most troublesome part. Swords are easy to defend against, but smiling faces are hard to block. They won't attack you, but they will make you open the door yourself.

He opened his eyes, the data interface of his Mechanical Prosthetic Eye flashing past; the Medicinal Field surveillance remained stable, the signal nodes were still working, and there were no abnormal fluctuations in the communication channels of the Alliance clans.

Everything was under control.

He stood up, walked to the door of the side hall, and pushed open the wooden door.

The morning light spilled in, shining on his face.

In the distance, on the square, the crowd had dispersed, technicians began to transport Materials, medicinal attendants carried bamboo baskets toward the fields, and the first wisp of white smoke rose from the chimney of the Artifact Refining Workshop.

Just like an ordinary day.

He raised his hand and said to the attendant waiting under the corridor:

"Prepare for the reception."