This is a successor cultivated by the Holy Land, bearing the responsibility of cleansing filth and correcting chaos—naturally different from the delicate young ladies in this building.

Megan Price withdrew her gaze with a smile, her golden-threaded round fan glinting as she gently gestured diagonally in front of Grace Turner, saying, “The girls in the building have already prepared wine and dishes. Please come this way, my lady.”

After all, this was someone else’s territory. Even though Grace Turner had no interest in the upcoming rounds of drinking and toasting, she still nodded politely and said, “Thank you, madam.”

The two were just about to move when they saw two plump, round-faced children running over with anxious expressions, their little legs moving as fast as the wind. Megan Price didn’t scold them upon seeing this; she waited until the little ones, looking like beans, stood steady in front of her before smiling and saying, “So reckless—just a few days, and you’ve already forgotten all the rules the teacher taught you?”

Though she said this, there was no harshness or blame in her tone. After speaking, Megan Price naturally bent down, adopting a posture of attentive listening.

Among the children, the one on the left looked a bit older and acted more properly. Seeing this, he stepped forward half a pace, leaned close to Megan Price’s ear, and whispered a long string of words.

With the hearing of a cultivator, even without deliberately paying attention, Grace Turner still caught the latter half of the words: “…the adults from Chishui have arrived, both the Holy Son and Holy Maiden are here.”

Grace Turner looked up, slowly clenching her hand.

Megan Price was also somewhat surprised. She straightened up, her expression unchanged, and as she led Grace Turner down the small path to the left, knowing she couldn’t hide what was just said, she simply stated, “The guests from Chishui have arrived.”

“Chishui is far from Shanhai City. Usually, they arrive just as the Holy Land opens, and can’t stay long in our building.” Megan Price paused, recalling that the person beside her was also one who arrived just in time, and couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s good you came a couple of days early. The day after tomorrow, Shanhai City will hold the Wind-Praying Festival, which the residents value greatly. The girls of the West Wing have prepared performances as well. When the time comes, I’ll have the children from the building lead you there to enjoy the festivities.”

Grace Turner never cared for entertainment. Before turning the corner, she stopped, as if suddenly remembering something, her slender brows knitting together. “Please trouble madam to send someone to invite the Chishui Holy Son. I have matters to discuss with him.”

There were countless ties between the six Holy Lands, so frequent contact was common. Megan Price didn’t ask further and simply agreed.

This was exactly what Grace Turner was counting on. She had originally wanted to contact Adam Harris privately, but it was clear that in this building near Xihe, their movements could not escape the countless eyes in the shadows.

Since that was the case, it was better to meet openly.

With such an upright and forthright attitude, those with ulterior motives would actually be less suspicious.

A moment later, Grace Turner sat in a private room separated by soundproof stone, her gaze falling across a table of fine wine and delicacies onto Adam Harris’s face—a face that had hardly changed in a thousand years, always seeming to carry a look of easy confidence.

“After traveling non-stop, I’ve just arrived, and already hear that the Princess of Yedu wants to see me.” Adam Harris turned the teacup at his hand half a circle, smiling lazily as he asked, “What’s this about?”

If it were a thousand years ago, Adam Harris speaking to her like this would have been perfectly normal.

Grace Turner was of a cold and aloof temperament, never close to anyone. Usually, aside from Yedu, she was out on missions issued by the Book of Destiny. She was used to acting alone, and even with fellow Holy Land inheritor Adam Harris, she had little to say—the kind of acquaintance where, upon meeting, they’d merely nod to each other.

Under such circumstances, her sudden invitation did warrant Adam Harris’s reaction.

But Grace Turner didn’t believe in such coincidences. That day, the silver whirlwind had clearly enveloped all three present—so why was she the only one to encounter this situation?

And even if that were truly the case—so much the better.

This time, Song Heng was doomed.

Before that, Grace Turner needed to confirm that the Adam Harris before her was the one who hadn’t lived through that millennium, who hadn’t become sworn friends with Song Heng.

Time seemed to turn into viscous water, dripping down one bead at a time along her fingers. Grace Turner didn’t miss a single subtle expression on Adam Harris’s face, but for people like them, controlling their expressions was second nature—no one understood better than they what look to wear at what time.

“It’s nothing major.” Grace Turner’s face was all businesslike indifference. “When will the ten Red Thread Demons Chishui captured last month be transferred to Yedu?”

This was such a trivial matter that Adam Harris was momentarily stunned after hearing it, not even recalling such a thing.

Each of the six lands had its own duties, guarding the world. Chishui was responsible for setting laws and conducting trials, while Yedu was in charge of detaining demons and evil spirits, so there were often official exchanges between the two.

Seeing Grace Turner’s stern face, looking as serious as could be, Adam Harris also straightened up a bit, pondering for a moment before saying, “I’ll urge them when I return. But as you know, all the procedures have to be followed—there’s no way to rush it.”

After he finished, the private room fell silent again. In the subtle atmosphere, neither of them touched their chopsticks.

Adam Harris was usually talkative and prone to worrying, but faced with someone as cold and unapproachable as Grace Turner, even if he wanted to make conversation, he didn’t know where to start. He could only pick up the glass of colored glaze wine at hand, but just as the wine reached his lips, he heard Grace Turner, sitting across from him, speak.

“With the Tribunal opening this time, what are your thoughts, Holy Son?”