Chapter 105

Just as he approached the contestant lounge, before even stepping inside, Han Luo heard loud wails coming from within.

Inside, Du Ming and Lan Caicai were trying their best to comfort Shen Xian’er, who was bawling uncontrollably.

The moment Han Luo entered, Shen Xian’er rushed over and buried her face in his chest, sobbing loudly.

“Waaaahhhhhh…”

The cry was just one long note, steady and uninterrupted—impressive in its own right.

Han Luo gently patted her head, sighing helplessly. He had already reviewed the replay on the way back and knew exactly why Xian’er had lost.

“Xian’er, didn’t I tell you to use the Super Glutinous Rice Cake from your Gluttonous Domain to trap Wudao? Why on earth did you use a cream cake instead?”

His strategy had been clear: trap Wudao using the sticky, tenacious nature of the Super Rice Cake. Wudao’s style was overwhelmingly forceful, and the rice cake’s elasticity would have neutralized that advantage.

“I-I-I…” Shen Xian’er pouted, her eyes glistening with fresh tears. “I just thought cream cake tasted better… so I used it instead…”

Han Luo facepalmed.

He had expected a silly reason, but hearing it out loud made him want to sigh at the setting sun.

And she started wailing again.

“Waaaahhhhhh…”

As if she’d just been betrayed by her boyfriend and best friend at once.

“Alright, alright, look what I brought,” Han Luo said, pulling out a treasure from his storage ring—an ultimate delicacy known as… spicy sticks.

“Ah!”

The moment Shen Xian’er caught a whiff of it, she immediately stopped crying. She didn’t know what it was, but that aroma alone made her salivate. She instantly forgot about losing the match.

“This, dear junior sister, is the snack that even immortals can’t resist. Spicy sticks. Your senior brother here went through a lot to steal these for you.”

Of course, there was no such thing as a divine snack loved by immortals. That had been a made-up tale to motivate her to participate. Still, regardless of the outcome, Han Luo had planned to give her the treat as a reward.

Hearing his words, Shen Xian’er’s eyes lit up.

“Then let’s hurry home before anyone finds out and tries to take them back!”

She latched onto Han Luo’s arm, dragging him out the door.

“You two go ahead. We’re going to stay and watch the finals,” Du Ming said.

Han Luo nodded and took Xian’er back to Luoxian Mountain.

As for the rest of the tournament—he didn’t really care.

Li Jun versus Wudao would simply continue the long-standing rivalry between Qianren Peak and Xianding Peak.

Back at Luoxian Mountain, Shen Xian’er rushed to her room, locked the door, wrapped herself tightly in her blanket, and began secretly devouring the spicy sticks like they were forbidden treasure.

Despite her precautions, Han Luo could still hear her muffled exclamations from outside. It was clear—spicy sticks were a timeless, cross-dimensional delicacy. Especially when it came to children, they were always a hit.

Han Luo raised his hand and activated a formation to seal Xian’er’s room within the Mirror Realm, just in case Changshou Laogui came back for revenge.

Once that was done, he returned to the Mirror Realm himself.

Inside the Illusory Confinement, Mo Jiu sat cross-legged, meditating.

“What’s your name?” Mo Jiu growled the moment Han Luo entered, his aura brimming with hatred. He looked like a jilted wife glaring at her cheating husband—utterly drained and furious.

“Who I am doesn’t matter,” Han Luo replied calmly. “What matters is who you are, where you came from, and what you’re doing in the Eastern Region.”

A classic interrogation opening—he didn’t expect answers, but protocol was protocol.

“You don’t deserve to know who I am,” Mo Jiu snapped arrogantly. “And besides, what you’ve captured is just one of my avatars. Even if you destroy this one, so what? You’ll never leave Luoxian Sect alive. The moment you step outside, I’ll show you what true cruelty looks like.”

His crimson eyes bore into Han Luo, seething with killing intent.

Han Luo smiled faintly, pleased with the display.

“At least you’re smart enough to use an avatar for something this risky.”

He had already suspected it. After all, Mo Jiu had survived Yunyangzi’s wrath, so he had to have had backup plans.

“And you’re no better, hiding behind substitution talismans,” Mo Jiu sneered.

The memory of that betrayal made his blood boil. He cursed Changshou Laogui for playing dirty and attempting to monopolize the Xian sword. The old bastard would pay one day—Mo Jiu swore he’d wipe out the entire Changshou Sect.

“Honestly,” Han Luo said, rubbing his chin, “I do appreciate your straightforwardness. But I don’t like people with too much murderous intent—even if you are a demon. So let’s take some time to cleanse your temperament before we talk again.”

Han Luo already had a plan for dealing with Mo Jiu.

“You think locking me up will drive me insane?” Mo Jiu scoffed. “I was born into loneliness. Your kind could never understand it. Lock me up for a million years—I won’t break.”

Han Luo nodded in understanding.

“That’s why I prepared something special for you. Trust me, you’ll love it.”

With a snap of his fingers, the walls, ceiling, and floor of Mo Jiu’s cell were covered in one-meter-wide video screens.

“Shhhhhh…”

All screens lit up simultaneously, first with static, then distortion—and finally, lush green pastures appeared on all sides.

A cheerful tune began to play:
“Don’t look down on me just 'cause I’m a little lamb…”

The cartoon Pleasant Goat and Big Big Wolf began broadcasting in full surround sound.

Mo Jiu instinctively raised his arms into a defensive stance, expecting a spiritual attack or some mental illusion. But no threat came.

One minute passed. His head began to hurt.

“Enjoy,” Han Luo said. “I’ll be back later. Maybe by then you’ll have had a change of heart.”

He turned to leave.

Mo Jiu stayed alert, refusing to believe Han Luo would let him off that easily. He stared at the screens, searching for hidden patterns, danger, traps…

Then the episode ended.

And looped back to the beginning.

Again.

And again.

“Seal my senses!” Mo Jiu tried to block all inputs—sight, sound, everything.

But he was shocked to find that all his magic was sealed. No demonic energy. No divine techniques. No way to shut anything out.

“Damn you!” he roared. “You call this torture?! This is humiliating!”

He sat cross-legged and tried to meditate—but those cheerful songs kept drilling into his mind.

“AAAAARGHHHHHH!”

He smashed his head into the wall.

No use. The walls had been enchanted with a soft barrier. It felt… comfortable.

“I’LL KILL YOU! I SWEAR I’LL KILL YOU!”

His screams echoed through the sealed chamber.

But the only reply was that irritating voice:
“I’ll be back!”