Chapter 137

Han Luo’s colorless spiritual energy could mimic any attribute—including yin energy—so moving the Underworld Trees into the Mirror World was no problem.

After a careful selection process, he transplanted every suitable tree into the Mirror World. Those that couldn’t be moved would be partly used for puppet crafting, with the remaining materials sent to Senior Sister Lou on behalf of the sect.

Watching how Qingfeng Envoy had handled Changshou Ghost had further reinforced one truth for Han Luo: only a truly strong sect could offer the stability needed for peaceful cultivation.

Unless one possessed the power to dominate an entire era—which no one had ever achieved. The moment someone neared that level, they would be secretly eliminated by the great immortal dynasties. These dynasties tolerated no individual who could threaten their rule.

That was why Han Luo had no desire to step foot into a super immortal dynasty. The external threats alone were terrifying enough; within, the internal rivalries were worse. One wrong move, and your own allies might destroy you.

Luoxian Sect was far safer and warmer by comparison. It not only had the twin innate treasures—the Luoxian Twin Swords—for protection, but also a unified brotherhood of fellow disciples. Most importantly: he could lie low here.

In his seven or eight years with Luoxian Sect, he’d only made a few acquaintances. The majority of disciples didn’t even know he existed. That suited him perfectly—he much preferred being an anonymous prodigy here than a famed one in a dynasty.

Here, he controlled who knew of him. If he wanted someone to notice him, they would. If not, they’d never know. In a dynasty, even the strongest prodigy wouldn’t have that luxury.

Han Luo was quite content with his current life—advancing his cultivation step by step, with no need to rush. Move too fast, and one could pull a muscle, as the saying went.

With this mindset, he gained new clarity about his cultivation path.

After finishing the tree transplanting, Han Luo turned his gaze to Hei Feng, who was looking particularly miserable.

"Burnt chicken," he said coolly. "You’ve seen my secrets. I can’t let you live."

He flexed his fingers, tightening the Sky-Confining Chain, aiming to tear Hei Feng apart.

"Damn brat! Playing dirty, are we?"

Not one to suffer quietly, Hei Feng immediately became even more shameless.

"Still mouthing off?"

Han Luo continued pulling. Hei Feng’s limbs and neck stretched dangerously long, on the verge of snapping.

"Wait! We can talk! We can talk!"

True to his cowardly nature, Hei Feng quickly surrendered.

"There’s nothing to talk about."

Han Luo coldly kept pulling.

"Fine! I know where the entrance to the Immortal Tomb is! I can take you there ahead of time. There are proto-immortal puppets inside that would be a huge boost for your puppet refinement!"

The Immortal Tomb—one of the Seven Deadly Grounds of the Eastern Region. It opened once every ten years, a classic treasure-hunting plot.

"And why should I trust you?"

Of course Han Luo knew of the Immortal Tomb.

Legend said true immortals were buried there, with secrets to ascend to immortality. Yet no one had ever returned with such a secret—many, instead, had perished inside.

Worse, the tomb couldn’t be entered at will; it only opened on its own.

Still, this Hei Feng clearly wasn’t ordinary—perhaps he did have a way. For now, Han Luo was just testing him.

Seeing Han Luo’s skepticism, Hei Feng spat out a piece of spirit iron.

"Look, kid! This is immortal iron I… retrieved… from the Immortal Tomb! Even a true immortal would fight over it!"

Han Luo was unimpressed. The chunk of dull black metal didn’t look special at all.

Extending his colorless spiritual energy, he examined it carefully—nothing unusual.

Next, he placed it into ten detection arrays for a deeper scan.

Watching this, Hei Feng was dumbfounded.

"Come on, kid. I get that you don’t trust me, but isn’t this a bit excessive?"

"Excessive?"

Han Luo glanced at him.

"Turbid Immortal Poison. Triggers upon contact, corrupting spiritual energy and severely crippling the cultivator—or killing them outright. Seems you’re the excessive one here."

As he spoke, a black, evil smoke was extracted from the metal—like a malicious spirit, it tried to break free but was burned to ash by the array’s flames.

Hei Feng immediately acted innocent.

"Oh dear! My mistake! I grabbed the wrong piece—that wasn’t the immortal iron I meant. This one is!"

He spat out another black chunk.

"Go ahead, test this one—no tricks this time!"

"No need," said Han Luo.

He summoned a puppet and had it touch the metal. Instantly, black light burrowed into it, and the puppet visibly withered before disintegrating into dust.

"Bone-Devouring Poison," Han Luo remarked. "Consumes flesh and marrow upon contact—instant death without proper defense."

The more he watched this chicken, the more unreliable it seemed.

"Alright. Let’s see how many more ‘immortal iron’ chunks you’ve got," Han Luo crossed his arms, amused.

Hei Feng looked embarrassed. Normally, cultivators would eagerly grab such a treasure. Even if they checked it, their spiritual sense alone wouldn’t catch the hidden poisons—his unique aura could mask them perfectly.

But this brat was too cautious. Ten full detection arrays—and likely more tricks in reserve.

"I’m out, okay?" Hei Feng surrendered. "I only had those two pieces. But listen! I remember the route inside. There’s plenty more in there. If we work together, we can bring it all out! Imagine it—your puppets made from immortal iron! You’d be unstoppable in the Eastern Region! You could walk sideways if you wanted!"

"Walk sideways?"

Han Luo narrowed his eyes, full of “Yeah right” disbelief.