Great Sage

Chapter 86

Even Yun Yangzi couldn’t conceal his shock—nor could the others present.

Everyone turned instinctively to look at Yun Qianren.

“Hehehe…” Yun Qianren chuckled smugly, especially when he caught a glimpse of his longtime rival Yun Ding’s expression. The man’s eyes looked as if they might pop out of his skull from disbelief, which only added to Yun Qianren’s glee.

“That’s right,” he said proudly. “Little Wu completed his eighth body tempering a full month before the tournament began.”

With Yun Qianren’s confirmation, no one doubted it anymore—Luo Xian Sect now had a cultivator who had reached the legendary eighth stage of body tempering.

At their core, body tempering and spirit tempering were the same—they were just different paths. Spirit tempering refined spiritual energy, while body tempering honed the physical form. And from a certain perspective, the two were incomparable in difficulty.

Spirit tempering depended heavily on innate talent—the higher the talent, the more times one could temper their spirit. Body tempering, on the other hand, relied on sheer willpower. The stronger one’s resolve, the more progress they could make.

Both paths had their own merits. Reaching the seventh stage of either was already considered perfection. The eighth stage? That was the stuff of miracles.

But in a cultivation-dominated world, warriors were rare—almost like mythical beasts. Their path was harsher, more painful, and produced results much more slowly than cultivation.

A cultivator with decent talent could expect steady progress. Their societal status and lifestyle were also far more glamorous than that of a warrior.

Below the Nascent Soul stage, cultivators completely suppressed warriors. Even above that, strength still depended on individual combat ability—it wasn’t like a warrior could suddenly surpass a cultivator just by effort alone.

So even though Wu Dao had completed the eighth body tempering and stunned the peak lords and Yun Yangzi, no one saw him as a true core figure to be cultivated. At best, he was now qualified to become a powerful guardian—someone who protected the true talents meant to lead the sect.

Meanwhile, on the battlefield, Wu Dao and Chi Xiao stood locked in a tense standoff. Sparks crackled between them as they steadily built up momentum for their next clash. Wu Dao specialized in close combat, and Chi Xiao, with her fire-attribute spirit root, also favored direct engagement. Once they went all out, the fight would end quickly. Both were holding nothing back, fine-tuning themselves to their peak states.

The standoff didn’t last long.

Suddenly—Boom!—a loud explosion erupted as something flew between them and slammed into the ground, shattering their focus. Both turned toward the source.

Cough cough...

Li Jun was the culprit. He clambered up from the dirt, looking utterly disheveled.

“Braised... pig... trotter!” came a crisp, slightly childish voice.

A giant, glistening, and delicious-looking pig trotter soared through the air toward him, trailing a savory aroma.

“Junior sister Xian’er! I swear it wasn’t me!” Li Jun shouted, dodging frantically as the monstrous pig trotter slammed into the crowd like a bomb, sending dozens flying and knocking them out of the competition.

“Hmph!”

Xian’er, cheeks puffed and eyes full of righteous fury, looked anything but pleased. She looked like a predator on the hunt, surrounded by an arsenal of gourmet dishes.

“Fried peanuts!”

With a sharp shout, she launched an entire plate of crispy golden peanuts like bullets at Li Jun.

“Junior sister Xian’er, I swear I didn’t wake you! I was just passing by!” Li Jun cried in desperation.

He had only intended to help Xian’er out of a jam—and maybe win some favor in the process. But unfortunately, Xian’er had awakened. Worse, she’d decided he was the one who’d disturbed her sleep.

What followed was chaos. From who-knows-where, Xian’er summoned wave after wave of delicious-looking yet terrifyingly powerful food. Each dish looked mouthwatering, yet exploded with explosive force. Li Jun didn’t dare take a direct hit and could only dodge continuously.

As he fled, people in his path immediately stopped fighting and scrambled to get out of the way. No one wanted to become collateral damage—Xian’er’s attacks were indiscriminate.

The entire arena watched, stunned.

No one had ever seen a cultivator weaponize food with such power. The sheer destructive force of her “meals” was unbelievable.

“Pfft, hahahaha…”

Han Luo couldn’t help but laugh.

Others might not know how terrifying Xian’er’s morning temper could be, but he knew it all too well.

Normally, she had Xiaobai by her side to soothe her. That soft fur acted like a magic balm—one touch and she’d settle down.

But now? Without Xiaobai’s calming influence, Xian’er had gone full demon mode.

“Domain!” Yun Yangzi suddenly shot to his feet, visibly shaken.

Hongniang and the other peak lords also noticed it—those dishes Xian’er was hurling weren’t just explosive food or spirit charms. They were real domains.

They all turned to look at Wudao.

Wudao had opened his eyes and was watching the food-flinging Xian’er unleash her rage in the center of the arena.

“As you guessed,” he said calmly, neither confirming nor denying.

“Eighth spirit tempering...” Lei Xing’s voice trembled with disbelief.

No one had expected this.

Xian’er never trained seriously. Her daily routine involved nothing but eating, drinking, and playing. And yet… she had completed the eighth spirit tempering.

It was absurd.

They thought back to their own youth—endless days and nights of brutal cultivation, hundreds of years of perseverance just to reach their current level.

But Xian’er? She’d casually outpaced them all while enjoying snacks.

“There must be divine favor upon our Luo Xian Sect to birth such a monstrous genius,” Yun Yangzi declared proudly.

As the sect master, he dreamed of one day elevating their sect into an immortal dynasty. Now, Xian’er had given him hope.

“Senior brother, with Xian’er’s talent, she’s bound to attract danger,” Yun Ding warned, his voice tense. “The tragedy at Moon Sect is still fresh in my memory. I don’t want to see another massacre here.”

“Don’t worry,” Yun Yangzi said coldly, all traces of his usual elegance gone. A sharp glint appeared in his eyes.

“If any great immortal dynasty dares to come for her, let them come. I’ll drag them down with us if I have to. Our Luo Xian Twin Swords aren’t just for show.”

The name “Luo Xian Sect” came from these legendary blades—innate spiritual treasures that had guarded the sect for centuries.

Once, a powerful figure claimed that Luo Xian Sect didn’t deserve even one of them, let alone two, and attempted to seize them.

The result? He was instantly slain by the Twin Swords.

But the swords contained spirits of their own. Only those they recognized could wield them. Anyone else would be devoured and turned into part of the sword itself.

That was why Luo Xian Sect remained a mid-tier sect despite possessing two such treasures—no one had ever been able to truly master even one of them.

Meaning, while the swords could defend the sect, they could not yet be used offensively outside its borders—unless someone earned their acknowledgment.

“Senior brother’s right,” Yun Qianren added. “As long as Xian’er stays inside Luo Xian Sect, she’s safe. No dynasty would dare make a direct move. And even if they did, the price they’d pay would be unimaginable. If they anger the swords, they might bring about their own destruction.”

Innate spiritual treasures were at the pinnacle of power in the Eastern Region. Luo Xian Sect had two of them.

Any would-be aggressor would have to think twice.

Still, the worry didn’t fade from their eyes. They’d seen firsthand how cruel the cultivation world could be.

Only true power could protect the sect from outside threats and allow it to thrive.

But the Twin Swords were too unstable. That made the future feel thorny, even to those who had witnessed countless storms.

As the elders discussed the fate of the sect—

“Uh-oh. This is bad!” came Han Luo’s voice from the audience.

He held his forehead, already sensing trouble brewing.

Chapter 85

Boom!

A deafening roar echoed as two figures—one clad in red, the other in black—collided with tremendous force.

“Today, I’ll defeat you, Chi Xiao. After that, I’ll take down Shen Xian’er. I will reign supreme in Luoxian Sect!”

Wu Dao launched the first strike. His iron-like fists, forged through relentless body cultivation, slammed fiercely into Chi Xiao’s shield. Sparks burst upon impact, the sound resembling a blacksmith’s hammer on an anvil.

Gasps rippled through the crowd.

“Damn! This guy’s insane! He’s using his bare fists to go head-to-head with a spiritual treasure. Is his body made of cold iron?”

“This isn’t just crazy—it’s terrifying. Are all body cultivators lunatics like this?”

“No, no, don’t lump us in with him... he’s not normal even for us.”

The audience’s perception of Wu Dao was being rapidly rewritten.

“Get lost!”

Chi Xiao wasn’t one to be underestimated. Flames erupted from her body—pure Scarlet Phoenix fire. Her shield came alive, and the carved phoenix on it opened its beak to shoot a scorching blast straight at Wu Dao’s face.

“Hahaha! That’s more like it!”

Wu Dao laughed wildly, sidestepped with ease, and then sprang forth like a jungle predator, aiming to pounce.

Chi Xiao, ever composed, calmly gripped her long crimson spear.

“Scarlet Phoenix Style—Eight Techniques of Annihilation: Execution.”

She whispered, channeling all her searing flame energy to the spear’s tip, then struck.

A crimson streak flashed—blindingly fast.

The blade of the spear, imbued with unstoppable momentum, reached Wu Dao in a blink.

For a moment, it felt as if a volcano had erupted, its force surging toward Wu Dao like a tidal wave.

“Bull Demon Twist!”

Wu Dao stomped with full force, shattering the ground beneath him. He crossed his fists and caught the spear tip dead-center. Sparks exploded. Two monstrous forces clashed at a single point, unleashing a storm.

The earth split apart like tofu; compressed air rang out with deafening booms. The scene stunned everyone present.

“Move!”

Chi Xiao roared as she bathed in her phoenix flames, advancing like an unstoppable tank, trying to pierce Wu Dao.

“AHHH!”

Wu Dao’s shout ripped through the air as his upper garments exploded, revealing a body scarred all over—every muscle defined like chiseled stone.

When the crowd saw the brutal wounds covering him, they collectively gasped.

“Did Wu Dao crawl out of hell?”

“How can anyone survive so many injuries? It’s unreal.”

“He really is a maniac... an absolute madman!”

They were shocked by Wu Dao’s ruthlessness toward himself—and Chi Xiao’s overwhelming force.

At the Qi Refinement level, wielding such destructive divine arts was unheard of. Had Wu Dao not been so resilient, he would've been skewered on the spot.

“No one... no one will block my path today.”

Wu Dao’s eyes blazed with unmatched willpower. With explosive force, he didn’t just endure Chi Xiao’s pressure—he stepped forward and pushed her back.

Chi Xiao’s fighting spirit burned even brighter.

“So Luoxian Sect finally has a man worth acknowledging.”

Her grip tightened around the spear as it spun rapidly like a drill.

Sensing danger, Wu Dao released his hold just in time.

Crimson and black lights flashed past each other. The clash paused.

A dead silence fell over the arena—even the other competitors froze. Only a group of seven in one corner were still frantically shaking the deeply asleep Shen Xian’er.

Drip. Drip.

Blood trickled from Wu Dao’s hand; his iron fists had cracked.

“You’re strong. Worthy of being my opponent.”

Wu Dao, like a devil god, licked the blood from his knuckles and locked eyes on Chi Xiao like a predator.

“You’re strong too,” Chi Xiao replied. “I’ll take you seriously now.”

She glanced down at her spear. A top-grade tier-two spiritual weapon—and it was cracked. The damage was substantial, but her fighting spirit remained undeterred.

Her crimson battle armor clung to her tall frame as she held her spear behind her, flame-red hair dancing in the wind. Her golden eyes gleamed with power.

No one dared approach within fifty meters—her aura was that commanding.

“Pseudo-Domain…”

Watching from afar, Han Luo adjusted his enchanted glasses and zoomed in.

After a thorough scan, he noted something shocking—Chi Xiao had a faint trace of domain energy around her.

She’d definitely attempted an eighth refinement.

Though she failed, the attempt yielded immense benefits.

“What a domineering woman,” Han Luo murmured, secretly giving her a thumbs-up.

To attempt the eighth refinement with a sixth-grade spiritual root was an act of sheer bravery—and a desperate desire to grow stronger. She had earned his respect.

Still, it wasn’t something just anyone could succeed at.

Chi Xiao had merely brushed against the edge of the domain realm, unable to truly step in.

A shame.

If someone like her could truly master a domain, she’d be multiple times more fearsome than even Shen Xian’er.

Others didn’t know she had tried for the eighth refinement. But at that moment, watching her in full battle mode, the crowd erupted with cheers.

Her tall figure clad in crimson armor radiated power—her sharp features held a fierce, refined beauty. That fiery hair alone drove many male disciples sleepless with awe and terror.

Thousands of them had been beaten by Chi Xiao before—and oddly enough, many of them formed the “Phoenix Fan Club.”

They hoisted her banners high and cheered as if they’d turn the arena upside down.

Chi Xiao had won everyone over with her raw strength and dominating charisma.

“Hahahaha!”

Amid the thunderous cheers, one burst of laughter cut through—Wu Dao’s.

“Has he lost his mind already?”

“Who even is this guy? How dare he compare himself to our Chi Xiao?”

“He’s laughing now? Just wait till she beats him into the dirt.”

Taunts filled the square.

But Wu Dao, after laughing long and hard, quieted and swept his dark eyes over the crowd.

Then he said two calm words: “Shut up.”

In that instant—

A blood-red storm erupted from his position, silencing ten thousand voices.

People blinked—and for just a second, they saw a terrifying vision:

A blackened world at dawn. A distant mountain—not of stone, but of beast corpses. Atop it sat a youth, legs crossed, chewing on wild grass, soaked in blood, smiling at the rising sun like a devil god from hell.

That youth was Wu Dao.

“Another domain user?!”

Han Luo ripped off his glasses, rubbed his eyes in disbelief.

He hadn’t imagined it.

Wu Dao had indeed released a domain’s aura.

But unlike Shen Xian’er’s gentle, comforting, almost heavenly domain...

Wu Dao’s was one of slaughter, nightmares, and cruelty.

It was hell.

“An eighth-refinement body cultivator…”

Even Elder Yun Ding's voice quivered as he spoke—shocked at what they had just witnessed.

Chapter 84

Back in the viewing stands, Hongniang watched the scene below with growing affection as her gaze fell on Han Luo amid the crowd. The more she looked, the more she liked what she saw. After all, Xian'er was her goddaughter—if Xian'er won the championship, it would mean that Piao Miao Peak took first place, which made her genuinely pleased.

Unlike Hongniang, however, Yun Ding and Yun Qianren were visibly unhappy. The two exchanged a glance and turned to Wu Dao, silently asking for an explanation, only to find him seated calmly with his eyes closed in meditation. As expected from Wu Dao—if it weren’t for the significance of the Luoxian Tournament, he likely wouldn’t have left seclusion to attend at all.

“This is blatant cheating!” Yun Qianren finally spoke out, unable to hold back. Wu Dao may have been the silent type, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be called out. A third-tier defensive formation? Forget about those seven disciples breaking it—even cultivators like Dan Chenzi would have difficulty tearing through it.

And how had Han Luo managed to let Xian’er use a third-tier formation?

In cultivation, realms were strictly separated. While rare geniuses could sometimes transcend those boundaries, especially in areas like formations, doing so with something as complicated as a third-tier array was nearly impossible. If Han Luo himself activated it, they might be able to accept it. After all, Luoxian Mountain already had the third-tier Kunxian Formation, which was solid and well-established. But Xian’er? She didn’t know the first thing about formation arts. How could she activate a high-tier formation just by pouring spiritual energy into it?

Not to mention, a third-tier formation required refined spiritual energy. Any regular Foundation Establishment cultivator would be drained dry instantly. But Xian’er? Not only was she not being drained—she seemed to be using it passively, with zero signs of depletion. It was beyond comprehension.

“This isn’t just cheating. It’s outrageous,” Yun Ding echoed, finding himself for once aligned with Yun Qianren.

The outcome of the tournament would determine resource distribution for the next decade. While technically the amounts were similar, the winning peak always enjoyed a better reputation and standing. For someone like Yun Ding who counted every spirit stone, letting others walk away with the glory was unacceptable.

Even Lei Xing glanced at Wu Dao with a subtle look of discontent. Though he said nothing, his eyes made his stance clear—his Luoxian Peak disciples were also competing, and he had no intention of letting them lose ground for nothing.

Sensing their collective gaze, Wu Dao slowly opened his eyes. At first glance, he seemed utterly ordinary, devoid of any aura of a Golden Core cultivator. Were he not sitting among them, one might mistake him for some elderly visitor just tagging along.

“I agree—it does seem unfair,” Wu Dao said, catching everyone off guard.

Why wasn’t he defending his disciple? Why was he admitting fault?

“Wu Dao senior brother, don’t listen to them,” Hongniang quickly stepped in to mediate. “They’re just jealous. There’s no need to let it get to you.”

Wu Dao turned his head, meeting the group’s gaze. “How about this?” he said. “Let Xian’er withdraw from the tournament and have Xiao Luo take her place.”

At that, several of the peak lords nearly choked.

They wanted to scream: Are you trying to give us a heart attack?

Han Luo was far more cunning than Xian’er. And who knew what tricks he had up his sleeve? Officially, he was only at the seventh layer of Qi Refinement with five body temperings, but they all suspected the truth: at least seven temperings—possibly even the legendary eighth.

If Han Luo had truly completed eight temperings, it would be a massive event across the Eastern Domain, rivaling the emergence of twin-dragon anomalies.

And now you’re suggesting he replace Xian’er in the tournament? That’s just inhumane.

“All right, all right,” Yun Yangzi intervened with a laugh. “The third-tier formation may stretch the rules, but since Xian’er can activate it on her own, it counts. Even if it wasn’t something Han Luo gave her, what if she simply found a third-tier array disk by chance? That wouldn’t be against the rules either. On the other hand, if Han Luo were to fight, we’d be contradicting the very reason we kept him hidden in the first place.”

He paused, his expression turning serious.

“Until Han Luo reaches the Nascent Soul stage, his existence must never be exposed. If we fail to protect that secret, then the moment his identity is revealed, Luoxian Sect will vanish from the Eastern Domain—just like Moon Sect did. I trust you all remember what happened to them.”

Silence fell over the room.

Years ago, a mid-tier sect known as Moon Sect produced a disciple with saint-level bloodlines. Elated, they boasted their fortune across the Eastern Domain. The next day, reclusive ancient sects descended to steal the child. Not recruit—steal. They planned to erase the disciple’s memories and use him as a vessel for one of their elders’ soul transfers.

Moon Sect refused.

On the third day, Moon Sect vanished without a trace.

When others arrived at the sect’s ruins, what they found was a nightmare—corpses of disciples, elders, even the sect’s guard dogs, not a single soul left unharmed. In the cruel world of cultivation, if you lacked power, even peerless talent couldn’t save you. If you resisted, they would simply wipe your entire clan off the map.

Since then, no sect, regardless of size, ever publicly declared their monstrous prodigies. Only when such talents were strong enough to protect themselves would they be revealed to the world.

Han Luo was one such prodigy—perhaps even more terrifying than that saint-blooded youth from Moon Sect. And to ensure his safety, they’d willingly let Xian’er act as a decoy, believing that all eyes would focus on her instead.

After all, how could anyone imagine that Luoxian Sect, a mid-tier sect, would produce not one but two prodigies—and that the second might eclipse even saint-blood talent?

Once Han Luo reached Nascent Soul, he would be able to fully wield the power of the sect’s ancestral treasures, the twin Luoxian swords. The legend that said those swords, when combined, could slay even a cultivator at the Great Ascension stage—might finally come true.

The peak lords all understood what Han Luo represented.

“All right, all right, I was just joking,” Yun Ding quickly backpedaled. “Don’t take it seriously.”

He wasn’t about to risk getting on Han Luo’s bad side. The boy might look harmless, but if he decided to settle scores later, they all knew he’d have the power to do it.

“Yes, yes, Wu Dao senior brother, don’t be upset,” Yun Qianren added with an awkward laugh.

As the two awkwardly apologized, Wu Dao finally spoke again. “I understand your concerns. The appearance of Han Luo, Xian’er, and the twin dragon phenomenon—these all point to a coming storm in the Eastern Domain. We don’t yet know whether it will be a blessing or a calamity. I know you’re eager to see Han Luo grow into the kind of leader who can shoulder our sect’s future, but…”

Wu Dao didn’t finish the sentence. His gaze swept to the stands, where Han Luo was enthusiastically waving a fan sign for Xian’er, blending in among her cheering fans like a harmless bystander.

With a soft sigh, he closed his eyes and resumed meditating.

The others remained silent, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, the Luoxian Tournament raged on, and the battle everyone had been waiting for was finally about to begin—Chi Xiao versus Wu Dao.

Chapter 83

On the grand stage of the Luoxian Tournament, battles raged on. Every participant fought with all they had—some for honor, others for their future.

In a quiet corner, a few cultivators cautiously approached one individual.

Each of them held an enhanced Fire Serpent Talisman, and without hesitation, they launched a coordinated sneak attack on none other than Shen Xian’er.

Seven blazing fire serpents burst forth from the talismans, hissing toward her sleeping form.

"Xian’er, wake up!"
"Come on, sleepyhead—you're about to become roast pig!"
Even with nearly eighty thousand spectators shouting for her to wake up, Shen Xian’er remained in deep sleep, undisturbed. A trail of drool even glistened from the corner of her lips, as if she were enjoying a delicious meal in her dreams.

The seven fire serpents slammed into her location.

BOOM!

A violent explosion rocked the entire corner of the field, shaking even the protective formation covering the arena.

“We did it!” one of the attackers cheered.

“Not yet,” another said, expression tense, staring into the clearing smoke.

Shen Xian’er was ranked third in the sect. Anyone fooled by her innocent appearance would pay the price.

A gust of wind swept the battlefield, dispersing the dust. To everyone’s amazement, Shen Xian’er lay there unharmed. A pair of glowing green wings had unfolded around her, shielding her from the full brunt of the attack.

“Such a troublesome little junior sister...” sighed Han Luo from the stands, adjusting his glasses.

Those green wings were none other than his upgraded Guardian Spirit Array, version 2.0. Normally, it appeared as a turtle shell—strong, sturdy, and a bit deceptive in design. But for Shen Xian’er, a girly turtle shell just didn’t fit.

So, Han Luo had swapped the appearance to a pair of elegant wings. Given Xian’er’s wood-based spiritual root, the wings absorbed her qi and naturally turned a vibrant green.

Of course, there was another reason for the disguise. If anyone recognized the usual turtle-shell array and traced it back to him, it could expose their connection—something Han Luo wanted to avoid.

“Amazing defense,” muttered one of the seven attackers, clearly impressed.

Just then, Shen Xian’er shifted slightly in her sleep. The seven cultivators panicked and backed away, weapons and talismans at the ready. But all she did was roll over and find a comfier sleeping position.

The group exchanged awkward glances.

“Keep going. We’re all at the seventh level of the Qi Refining stage and have completed five rounds of spirit tempering. There’s no way that shield can keep holding,” one said firmly.

They all nodded and launched into another barrage. Fireballs, ice spikes, wind blades, even rocks—whatever they could hurl, they did.

BOOM BOOM BOOM!
The corner of the arena lit up like a fireworks display, rumbling with explosive force.

Some in the audience grew angry and cursed the seven for attacking her while she slept, but others took a more rational stance. After all, in the cultivation world, cuteness didn’t save you from death. When someone’s aiming for your head, they won’t stop because you’re adorable.

But perhaps this was exactly why most cultivators remained ordinary, and only a few reached the peak—not through talent alone, but through overwhelming caution and preparation.

As the seven raged on, Shen Xian’er simply snuggled into her blanket, sleeping like a dead pig under the sun.

Of course, all credit went to the Guardian Spirit Array. Their relentless attacks were no more threatening than a gentle breeze against that barrier. It kept out sound, elemental force, sharp weapons, toxins, even spiritual sense interference.

And inside, everything was tranquil—like a lazy nap on a sunlit hill.

“Futile,” Han Luo muttered.

Even if they added Chixiao and Wudao to the mix, they likely still couldn’t breach his array. It was his masterpiece, crafted by fusing the Nine Array Laws and the Nine Li True Method—designed for ultimate defense. It could only be broken with overwhelming power or by shaking the person inside to death.

Tier-three array—meant to resist cultivators at the Sea of Qi realm and below. Only powerhouses like Lu Dancheng or Ye Qingqing could forcefully break it.

But these seven? Not even close.

Still, Han Luo didn't lower his guard. He watched carefully, analyzing how the array held up under prolonged attack, always seeking ways to improve it further. After all, even scraps of insight could lead to a stronger version.

“Damn it! What is this formation? Why won’t it break?” one of the seven cursed.

Some in the audience laughed. Few things were more humiliating than being ignored. Worse than that? Realizing all your effort had gone unnoticed by the very person you were targeting.

“Should we keep going?” someone asked hesitantly.

Their spiritual power was running low, and drawing too much attention now could backfire.

“We press on. We’re too far in to back out now.”

Their eyes hardened.

Even if they couldn’t break the array, they’d settle for just waking her up.

Chapter 82

Everyone walks a different path in cultivation.

So it wasn’t surprising that as soon as the competition began, Shen Xian’er followed her senior brother’s instructions and immediately ran to a quiet corner to hide.

“Junior sister Xian’er.”

A few disciples approached, surrounding her.

“Huh? Are we fighting already?” Shen Xian’er rolled up her sleeves, eager to brawl. “Just so you know, I’m not afraid of you! My senior brother taught me tons of awesome moves. I’ll have you all down in no time! I’ll punch—”

She struck a pose, yelling out bizarre move names.

The disciples exchanged looks, clearly a bit confused.

“No, no! We’re not here to fight,” said one of the female disciples from Yunding Peak, hesitating before summoning the courage to say, “We just… we’d like your autograph.”

“Eh…”

Shen Xian’er blinked and glanced around. They didn’t seem like they were lying.

“…Alright, then.”

She pulled out a little table and stool, sat down in the corner, and began signing autographs.

Watching this from the spectator seats, Han Luo facepalmed hard.

“You little brat… I told you not to trust anyone! What if they’re pretending just to catch you off guard and ambush you during the signing?”

He was practically hopping in frustration. He wanted nothing more than to charge down and smack those disciples flying.

Thankfully, Xian’er seemed to have luck on her side. The group really were just fans.

After the signing, they stuck around, clearly intent on acting as her personal guard squad.

Meanwhile, the chaotic free-for-all continued in full force.

“Yaaawn…”

Shen Xian’er stretched and watched the fighting from afar. She wanted to join in and play too.

But she remembered her senior brother’s advice to lay low and not initiate conflict, so she obediently stayed put.

Well, if no one’s going to fight me and I’m not supposed to go looking for a fight… then I might as well have a snack, right?

She pulled out a pouch of food from her waist and began neatly laying out her snacks on the table.

While others were fighting tooth and nail for glory, Shen Xian’er was treating the whole thing like a picnic show. Eating and drinking as if she were watching theater—her relaxed manner made many shake their heads.

But no one was surprised.

In this free-for-all, there were a few people no one wanted to mess with: Chi Xiao, Li Jun, Shen Xian’er, and now Wu Dao.

Any of them had the strength to win the entire competition. Challenging one of them directly was a gamble that most weren’t willing to take.

Shen Xian’er, now full and content, found the tournament utterly boring. It wasn’t nearly as fun as playing around back at Luoxian Sect.

“Yaaawn…”

She stretched again. Sleepiness hit her like a wave.

Looking around and seeing that everyone else was busy fighting, she thought, No one will notice if I take a nap, right?

And so she did.

She pulled out the comfy bedding her senior brother had prepared just for her and lay down in the corner for a nap.

This scene drew laughter from the spectators.

If anyone else had done this, they would’ve been mocked relentlessly. But when Xian’er did it, with her cute little face and carefree demeanor, people just couldn’t help but find it adorable.

But this was still a tournament.

Soon, a few uninvited guests approached, knocking aside her makeshift bodyguards and standing over her, prepared to strike.

Taking down Shen Xian’er—even by underhanded means—would catapult them to fame.

The cultivation world is cruel. Many powerful cultivators have fallen simply due to carelessness, slain by those far weaker.

That’s why only those who survive to the end are called true victors. No one cares about how you win.

“Xian’er, wake up! Don’t sleep!”

“C’mon, little lazy pig, get up!”

“Still sleeping?!”

The entire arena began shouting at her to wake up.

But the little girl continued to snooze peacefully, oblivious.

“Haha… what an interesting little girl. To sleep so soundly in the middle of this mess,” Yun Ding chuckled fondly.

He had once wanted to adopt her as his goddaughter, but Hongniang got to her first.

Still, his fondness remained. Yun Yangzi, along with the other peak masters, all doted on Xian’er, rarely pushing her to cultivate.

In any other sect, a disciple of her monstrous talent would’ve been pressured to train nonstop, to secure the sect’s future.

But they knew something others didn’t.

Yes, Shen Xian’er was an extraordinary genius, but someone even more terrifying was quietly biding his time.

Several of them subtly turned their attention toward the stands—where Han Luo, blending in with her fan club, was waving a “Go Xian’er!” sign and yelling louder than anyone else.

A few peak masters couldn’t help but feel a headache coming on.

How did their two most powerful geniuses end up being such oddballs?

They weren’t like Lu Dancheng or Ye Qingqing—those had always acted like prodigies.

Even Li Jun and Chi Xiao carried the air of budding powerhouses.

But Han Luo and Shen Xian’er? They looked more like a pair of unserious children. If you didn’t know better, you’d never believe they were the future of the sect.

Are all monstrous talents just… problem children? they wondered.

Then someone remembered their senior brother, the current sect master, as a kid. He used to drag them all around to spy on senior sisters…

—

“Hahaha… what an amusing junior sister,” Lu Dancheng laughed in the tone of an indulgent big brother. “She’s truly a joy.”

“She has a pure heart,” Ye Qingqing said gently. “In such a corrupt world, that’s a rare thing.”

“With that kind of temperament, I doubt she can shoulder great responsibility,” Badao cut in bluntly.

That brought silence.

They were soon heading to the Golden Battlefield, leaving the future of Luoxian Sect in the hands of this new generation.

Chi Xiao, Li Jun, Wu Dao—they were all competent successors.

But for those who had seen the cruelty of the outside world, the three still fell short.

Shen Xian’er had the potential to become a true peerless genius. But with her carefree nature, if she ever met someone good at scheming, she’d fall right into their trap.

Silence lingered.

Lei Jiu looked like he wanted to say something about Han Luo but held it in.

After all, from what they knew, Han Luo was just an ordinary disciple from Wudao Peak. Compared to Shen Xian’er, he was leagues behind.

And he’d only completed five temperings… how could someone like that possibly lead a generation?

“Let’s not dwell too much,” Lu Dancheng finally said with a smile. “With the peak masters and Yun Yangzi here, I believe they’ll guide her well. Perhaps by the time we return, she’ll be a powerhouse of the Eastern Region, one who can stand against emperors and sovereigns alike.”

“Well said,” Lei Jiu nodded. “The cultivation world is full of surprises. Who knows what the future holds… right, Badao?”

Everyone turned to look at Badao.

He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the arena below, lost in thought.

Chapter 81

The first round.

A chaotic free-for-all.

Out of the 3,000 participants, only 16 would advance. The elimination ratio was so ruthless, it could make someone cry for their mom.

From the very first second, the battle went white-hot.

Three thousand disciples unleashed their various abilities, not only to showcase their skills but to knock out as many opponents as possible. And charging in first—as always—was none other than Chi Xiao.

Bathed in blazing crimson flames, clad in her signature Red Lotus Armor, Chi Xiao transformed into a fiery phoenix and threw a devastating punch. Her true flame surged forward, taking the shape of a massive firebird, and crashed straight into the crowd.

Boom!

Several participants were sent flying amid pained screams, eliminated in an instant.

“Come on! Who’s next?!”

Chi Xiao roared with joy, her fighting spirit surging. Surrounded by such a grand stage, she couldn’t have been more thrilled. Her fists flew in all directions—indiscriminately targeting anyone near her. She didn’t even spare the girls from her own peak.

Of course, she’d warned her sisters beforehand not to get close—because once she went all out, even they wouldn’t be safe.

“What a maniac…”

Han Luo, observing from the spectator stands, wiped cold sweat from his brow.

Good thing I never told her who I am.

If Chi Xiao ever found out his true identity, she might flatten Luoxian Mountain on a whim. And if he ever got caught… forget bones—even his ashes might end up feeding the fish in Luoxian Lake.

He quickly took out his little notebook and bumped Chi Xiao up to number two on his personal “danger list.”

Chi Xiao’s aggressive rampage naturally provoked backlash. Many male disciples already felt oppressed by her dominance. Today was the perfect chance to gang up on her and strike back on behalf of every guy she’d ever humiliated.

“Let’s get her!”

“I’ll flank from the left!”

“I’ll come in from the right!”

“I’ll hit her from behind!”

One by one, they coordinated their attack.

They weren’t Foundation Establishment cultivators, so their power was limited to basic spells like fireballs, wind blades, or straight-up charging with swords in hand. But even basic attacks from hundreds of people were intimidating.

At least, to a normal person.

But Chi Xiao had never been normal.

“Looks like I’ve been going too easy on you people.”

With a crack of her neck, Chi Xiao summoned her Eight-Foot Flame-Tip Spear. She held it in both hands, slammed it into the ground, and growled—

“Battleflame!”

The entire Luoxian Arena shook violently as if struck by an earthquake.

Cracks spiderwebbed across the floor beneath everyone’s feet. Their newly formed formation instantly broke apart—and then jets of flame erupted from the ground.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

Explosions erupted across the field.

Anyone caught in the flame pillars was blasted into the air and instantly eliminated.

The anti–Chi Xiao alliance didn’t even last a full minute. They were utterly dismantled.

From that moment on, no one dared get close to her.

It was too brutal.

Too terrifying.

This wasn’t a duel—it was a massacre.

Chi Xiao’s rampage was overwhelming.

“Now this… this is interesting.”

Wu Dao walked calmly through the chaos, step by step approaching Chi Xiao. He had no interest in fighting weaklings. Only battles against the strong could make him stronger. Fighting weaklings just dulled your edge—and one day, you’d be erased before even realizing it.

Why wait for the finals?

If the rules allowed him to challenge Chi Xiao here, then so be it—he’d do it now.

But before he could reach her, someone else got in his way.

“Wu Dao! Ranked twentieth? You think you deserve that spot? Fight me!”

It was Lin Lei, a disciple at the seventh stage of the Qi Refinement realm—ranked twenty-first. He’d always believed his strength was underestimated. Seeing Wu Dao walk so confidently enraged him.

He launched his attack—roaring fists powered by five rounds of spirit tempering. His punch cut through the air like a wild tiger.

Wu Dao didn’t even flinch.

As Lin Lei’s punch approached, Wu Dao merely adjusted his stance and leaned slightly aside—barely dodging it.

Then he calmly extended his fist.

CRACK!

Lin Lei’s face slammed right into Wu Dao’s knuckles.

In that moment, it felt like he’d collided with a mountain. Pain—sharp, sour, and dizzying—overwhelmed him. His knees buckled, and he collapsed on the spot, unconscious.

“Quit pretending to be some hotshot!”

Several others nearby couldn’t accept what they’d seen. They believed it was just luck—that Wu Dao was nothing but a paper tiger. Yelling in frustration, they charged him.

But just as they approached, a terrifying aura erupted from Wu Dao’s body—primal and beastlike. The kind of aura that made your spine freeze.

For a second, they felt like prey, locked in the gaze of a predator.

“If we weren’t from the same sect,” Wu Dao said in a low, gruff voice, “you’d already be missing limbs. I suggest you retreat—find a quiet corner and maybe, just maybe, survive into the next round.”

His words were not a threat. They were sincere advice.

He wasn’t trying to intimidate them—he was stating facts.

Years of training in the Wan Beast Mountain Range had carved that aura into him. Constant life-and-death battles with wild beasts had turned him into something dangerous.

Still, the group of disciples exchanged looks and refused to back down.

One of them, sword in hand, pointed at Wu Dao.

“Enough talk! We’re disciples of Luoxian Sect. None of us are cowards who hide in the back! If we want to become number one, we’ve got to fight for it. How else can we protect our junior brothers and sisters?”

“That’s right!”

“Let’s go!”

“Charge!”

With determined howls, they launched themselves at Wu Dao like hungry wolves.

Wu Dao stood alone, unmoving, face unreadable.

Then he slowly clenched his fist.

“…You have earned the right to see me fight.”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Three seconds later, the same disciples lay groaning on the ground—clutching legs, arms, heads—badly bruised but alive.

Wu Dao gave them a glance.

Though his face remained stoic, inwardly, he acknowledged them.

He respected fearlessness—those who dared to fight even when they knew they might lose. That, to him, was the true path of cultivation.

He turned his eyes toward Chi Xiao, who was still tearing through the battlefield.

The fire in his heart ignited.

Perfect.

Before he reached Shen Xian’er… he would sharpen his blade on Chi Xiao.

It was time to show everyone who the real number one of Luoxian Sect was.

And so, Wu Dao strode toward Chi Xiao without hesitation.

Chapter 80

In the competitors’ rest area, dozens of participants in various outfits had gathered. Small groups clustered together, quietly discussing strategy for the upcoming matches. Others sat cross-legged, meditating and conserving energy for the intense battles ahead.

Naturally, Shen Xian’er’s arrival drew everyone’s attention.

Ranked third on the Luoxian Sect’s internal rankings—just behind Li Jun in first and Chi Xiao in second—Shen Xian’er, despite her sweet and innocent demeanor, was considered one of the strongest contenders for the top spot in the Luoxian Grand Tournament.

No one wanted to face her.

Why?

First, if you beat her, her loyal fans might tear you apart afterward. Second, if you lost, those same fans would roast you into oblivion. Either way, it wasn’t worth the trouble.

So, by unspoken agreement, most participants hoped to avoid her in the tournament. They’d rather fight Chi Xiao than her. Losing to Chi Xiao was honorable; at least it would be a good fight. But facing Shen Xian’er? You might suffer internal injuries just from the psychological pressure.

Of course, as one of the sect’s most talented, beloved, and adorable disciples, it was impossible not to pay attention to her. But even then, the admiration was kept at a safe distance. No one dared get too close.

The reason became apparent when—

“Xian’er, you’re late! The tournament’s about to begin!”

Chi Xiao strode over, her long legs clad in crimson armor that clinked with each step, like a warning bell to nearby gawkers: This is my girl. Back off or deal with me.

“Sister Chi Xiao! Why are you here?”

Xian’er beamed and ran over to hug her arm affectionately.

To ensure fairness, powerful contenders were usually assigned to different zones upon entering the arena.

“I came to check on you... and see who’s been placed in the same zone,” Chi Xiao replied, sweeping her golden-red eyes across the area.

One glance was all she needed to memorize every face. The message was clear: Xian’er is mine. Touch her, and you’re making an enemy of me, Chi Xiao.

Many disciples avoided her gaze, some pretending to meditate. Chi Xiao, satisfied with the intimidation effect, gave a small nod.

“Xian’er, get ready. The match is about to start.”

She turned to leave for her own zone, but—

“Chi Xiao, so you’re here too.”

Li Jun strolled over, composed and elegant.

Unlike Chi Xiao’s powerful and assertive presence, Li Jun had the refined, scholarly air of a gentleman. Instantly, the atmosphere in the area lightened—many disciples clearly preferred Li Jun’s “warm older brother” vibe over Chi Xiao’s “battle queen” persona.

“Senior Brother Li Jun, what brings you here?” Chi Xiao asked. As her strongest rival, she regarded him with both respect and determination. She was ready to face him in the finals and prove who truly deserved the top spot in the sect.

“To be honest,” Li Jun smiled, “I came to see Junior Sister Xian’er.”

“See me?” Xian’er blinked. She knew of him but didn’t recall ever speaking to him. Could it be… he brought snacks?

“That’s right. I came to cheer you on. I hope you’ll go easy on me if we end up facing each other.”

His tone was gentle and warm, like a big brother checking in on his adorable little sister.

“Tch. Flatterer.”

A cold voice interrupted.

A lean, short-haired young man in black training gear walked over. Though not bulky, his well-defined muscles radiated power, sharp and focused like a drawn blade.

This was Wu Dao, a disciple of Qianren Peak—a body cultivator. He often trained alone in the Wan Beast Mountain Range, and few had ever seen him fight. As a result, he ranked only twentieth on the sect leaderboard.

Now he had just insulted Li Jun.

The atmosphere tensed.

Everyone expected Li Jun to retaliate—maybe even strike. But he didn’t. Because he was Li Jun.

He wasn’t the hot-headed type like Chi Xiao.

Instead, he laughed it off. “Haha, Wu Dao, we’re all from the same sect. If you have a problem with me, let’s settle it in the finals.”

Though he sometimes seemed overly smooth, even slick, no one could deny that Li Jun had the strength to back it up.

Wu Dao gave him a flat stare.

“You’re not worthy to face me.”

Then, he strode past Li Jun—not toward Chi Xiao as many feared, but straight to Shen Xian’er.

“Junior Sister Xian’er,” he said with fierce determination, “I’ll be waiting for you in the finals. I’ll defeat you in front of everyone and prove to the Sect Master who the true future of Luoxian Sect is.”

It was a bold proclamation. Gone was the naive, clumsy kid who had once entered the sect—Wu Dao had been forged into a weapon by Qianren Peak Master Yun Qianren, and now he was ready to unsheath that blade.

“Enough, Wu Dao.”

Chi Xiao moved to shield Xian’er, stepping between them. The two locked eyes.

In that instant, the air around them cracked with tension.

“What’s going on here? Planning a mutiny?!”

A sharp voice rang out—an elder had arrived, and only then did the two back down.

Still, everyone knew: if these two faced off in the tournament, it would be a battle of epic proportions.

Wu Dao turned to leave for his assigned area when—

“Senior Brother Wu Dao!” Shen Xian’er suddenly called out.

“If I end up fighting you, you definitely won’t win… because I have a secret weapon!”

She tapped her fingers together mysteriously, looking like a mischievous child rather than a serious competitor.

Despite himself, Wu Dao couldn’t help but grin. That was the same dorky, lovable Xian’er from before.

“Alright, let’s see what this secret weapon is. See you in the finals.”

Then he left.

Li Jun and Chi Xiao also returned to their zones. The brief encounter had shifted the entire tournament’s tone.

Now, it was a powder keg.

And not just Wu Dao—many participants were here for one reason: to make a name for themselves.

A strong showing in the Luoxian Grand Tournament meant better resources, better techniques, and a faster path to power.

“Woooooooooo…”

A deep horn sounded.

The tournament had officially begun.

“Clank, clank…”

Heavy chains pulled open the massive iron gate. One by one, contestants stepped through and entered the central Luoxian Arena.

Out of thousands of hopefuls, only 3,000 disciples had made it through the initial selection.

“Xian’er, let’s go! Xian’er, let’s go! Xian’er, let’s go!”

Han Luo chanted with the rest of Xian’er’s fan club.

They didn’t know who he was, and he liked it that way. As long as they were cheering for her, he could blend in unnoticed.

As the participants marched into the arena, the spectators erupted in thunderous cheers that shook the entire venue.

No drawn-out opening ceremonies. No flashy announcements.

Yun Yangzi stepped forward and shouted—

And the Luoxian Grand Tournament officially began.

Chapter 79

Shen Xian’er craned her pale neck and scanned the crowd, her bright eyes darting anxiously in search of her senior brother.

But to her disappointment, Han Luo was nowhere in sight—because he was still lounging comfortably atop Luoxian Mountain, not the least bit interested in leaving his sanctuary.

At that very moment, Han Luo lay lazily on a rocking chair, eating ice cream and enjoying a rare moment of peace. He didn’t need to be at the event physically; he could watch it all live through the ancient bronze mirror.

Still, watching Xian’er search for him with such longing stirred a pang of guilt.

He had promised her he'd come to cheer her on. And considering how few people belonged to Wudao Peak, his absence would be far too noticeable.

What to do?

Han Luo frowned. He truly didn’t want to descend the mountain. First, because Du Ming had already read his fortune and warned of impending bloodshed—something Han Luo took seriously. Second, with over 100,000 people attending the tournament, chaos was inevitable, and danger could strike from anywhere.

He sighed as he bit into his ice cream—it suddenly tasted better, oddly enough. After much thought, he finally came up with a compromise.

Meanwhile, on the high platform at the tournament grounds, the peak masters were seated in full view of the bustling crowd.

“Senior brother,” Yun Ding spoke up, “do you remember when we attended the Ten Thousand Sects Tournament in the Imperial Capital? We marveled at how lively the event was and wondered if Luoxian Sect would ever see something similar. Looking at this crowd today, I’d say we’ve not only matched it—we may have surpassed it.”

His words brought a warm nostalgia to the group.

Yun Qianren, Lei Xing, Hongniang, and even Sect Master Yun Yangzi all smiled faintly, their thoughts drifting to their younger days, when they too had stood on such a stage to face geniuses from across the realm.

“Indeed,” Yun Yangzi said, gently stroking his white beard. “That tournament remains fresh in my memory. Our eldest senior brother made it into the top ten that year and won Luoxian Sect great honor.”

Yun Qianren’s expression was filled with admiration. “Of all of us, only eldest brother Yun Wanli had the strength to stand toe-to-toe with those monstrous geniuses.”

Lei Xing added with a hint of sorrow, “It’s a shame no one knows where he is now. If he could see Luoxian Sect today, I’m sure he’d be proud.”

Back then, Yun Wanli had left the sect on a long journey, seeking rare techniques and spells to enrich the sect’s library. Thanks to his efforts, the sect’s once modest collection of a few hundred scrolls had grown to over a million. Despite the whispers that painted him as a wanderer or escapist, he had given everything for the future of Luoxian Sect.

“Enough reminiscing,” Hongniang interjected, bringing the group back to the present. “This is the younger generation’s time. Let’s simply sit back and enjoy the show.”

They all nodded and began discussing the promising new disciples.

Elsewhere, in the back row of Luoxian Plaza, Han Luo sat dressed in a light cyan robe typical of Yunding Peak, wearing enchanted glasses to obscure his identity.

Watching the event live and in person was indeed different. He couldn’t deny it—he was getting swept up by the crowd’s energy.

For a fleeting moment, a rush of heat surged through him. He imagined donning battle robes, leaping onto the stage, and clashing with the likes of Li Jun and Chi Xiao, claiming the championship and becoming a ten-thousand-strong crowd’s hero.

But after those three seconds of fantasy passed, he exhaled and returned to reality.

Forget it.

Showing off wasn’t his style. Let Chi Xiao and the others take the spotlight. He preferred to be the shadow behind the giant, hidden beneath their radiance, unseen but ever-present.

His dream was too delicate to risk for glory. He would not allow a single mistake to jeopardize it.

That’s why he would always walk the path of caution.

On the way to the staging area, Shen Xian’er pouted, her head low and her steps heavy.

“Senior brother, you big liar. You said you’d come and cheer for me when I take first place, but the match is about to begin and you're still not here.”

She felt a mix of disappointment and betrayal. She had trusted her senior brother so much—always sharing her best snacks with him—and now, it seemed he had broken his promise.

“You big liar! Just wait. When I win and get that heavenly delicacy, I won’t give you even a single bite! You’ll drool all you want, but I won’t share a crumb!”

Just as she was about to swear vengeance with a pout, a familiar voice sounded from her side.

“Who exactly aren’t you sharing food with after you win first place?”

Shen Xian’er turned her head with a start.

“Senior brother!”

She immediately beamed, rushing forward to hug his arm like a koala. “I knew you’d come! Just now I was only pretending to be mad, really!”

Her gloom vanished like morning mist in sunlight, and her face returned to its usual brightness.

Han Luo smiled and gave her a gentle pat on the head. “How could I miss my junior sister’s big match? I even brought a banner just for you.”

He pulled out a custom banner that read: “Go, Junior Sister Xian’er! You’re the best!”

“Mm-hmm! Senior brother is the best!” Shen Xian’er twirled with glee.

“Here,” Han Luo said, handing her a storage ring. “This might come in handy.”

The ring was a universal-use storage artifact, no ownership binding required. Xian’er slipped it onto her finger and peeked inside, her eyes lighting up.

“Wow! So many talismans!”

“All prepared just for you,” Han Luo said. “You’re too kind-hearted. When the fighting starts, you’ll probably panic. So just remember—grab the talismans and throw them like crazy until the enemy gives up. Simple as that.”

He leaned in and added seriously, “Also, the first round’s likely a free-for-all. Don’t stick your head out. Find a corner, hide, and let the others duke it out. When they’re all half-dead, you go in and clean up the mess. Got it?”

“Got it!” Shen Xian’er nodded earnestly, repeating his instructions in her mind.

Han Luo held out a fist. “You’ve got this.”

Shen Xian’er bumped her tiny fist against his.

Han Luo turned and walked away.

Shen Xian’er skipped happily into the contestant holding area, a spring in her step and a plan in her mind.

Chapter 78

At Luoxian Plaza, the grand venue of the Luoxian Tournament, the atmosphere was electric.

The place was packed, a sea of people flowing in from all directions. The energy was palpable, with countless young cultivators full of enthusiasm, eagerly awaiting their chance to shine and make a name for themselves across the four peaks.

“So many people! It’s so lively!” Shen Xian’er, never one to be shy—especially with the promise of good food—was even more cheerful and animated than usual.

“Of course there are,” Lan Caicai replied gently, holding Xian’er’s hand. “The Luoxian Tournament is only held once every ten years. Not only do the disciples within the sect participate, but many who are out traveling also return just to be part of this grand event.”

She patiently explained the significance of the occasion to Xian’er.

“Even the senior brothers and sisters who’ve gone out will come back?” Xian’er’s eyes sparkled with excitement as she began scanning the crowd, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone returning from the outside world.

Though the sect boasted a hundred thousand disciples, on regular days, fewer than half that number actually remained within the sect. The rest were scattered across the world, performing duties or cultivating elsewhere—some hadn’t returned in seven or eight years. But on this day, many would come back to bask in the warmth of home.

“Senior sister, where’s my senior brother?” Xian’er suddenly asked, puzzled that her beloved senior brother hadn't shown up.

“Junior brother Han Luo is probably just delayed by something. I’m sure he’ll arrive soon,” Lan Caicai offered reassuringly.

“Really?” Xian’er’s excitement dimmed slightly, her earlier energy waning.

“Come on,” Du Ming interjected, glancing around. “Let’s head inside. If we stay here, we might not be able to get in later. Your senior brother will find us when he arrives.”

Indeed, the area around them was becoming increasingly crowded—though not simply due to the event itself, but because Shen Xian’er was present. With her Grade Seven spiritual root and cultivation at the peak of the Spirit Tempering Realm, she was hailed as the most talented individual in the sect. Any one of her titles was enough to draw attention. Both returning senior disciples and those from other peaks within Luoxian Sect were eager to see the prodigious genius with their own eyes.

However, not everyone seemed impressed.

“She’s cute, sure,” murmured a disciple from Qianren Peak to his companions, “but she doesn’t seem to have even the slightest competitive spirit. In the world of cultivation, that’s a dangerous weakness.”

Qianren Peak was known for producing battle-hardened cultivators, especially under their peak master Yun Qianren—a former veteran of the Golden Battlefield, renowned for his combat prowess. His disciples were all too familiar with the brutal nature of the cultivation world.

“I heard she barely cultivates and just lounges around with the senior sisters on Piaomiao peak, eating and playing all day. Who knows if that’s true?” another muttered, clearly worried.

With established disciples like Dan Chenzi and Ye Qingqing about to leave the sect, it would soon be up to their generation to carry the torch. But the current ‘top talent’ was just a naive little girl, which made them uneasy.

“Well, can you blame her?” someone added with a sigh. “There are so many beautiful senior sisters on Piaomiao peak. Of course she wants to stay there. But if she had come to our Qianren Peak instead, I bet she’d have already surpassed Chi Xiao and become the undisputed number one in the sect.”

The speaker’s words weren’t unfounded. With proper discipline, Shen Xian’er’s potential was limitless.

“You said what? Surpass who?” a cold, terrifying voice boomed from behind them. It was Chi Xiao.

Her voice was like a death knell from the fiery depths of hell, sending the bold disciple crashing to his knees on the spot.

“I-I-I didn’t mean anything, Senior Sister Chi Xiao! I didn’t say a word!”

Chi Xiao was known as one of the top contenders for the title of the sect’s strongest, and her brutal methods had earned her a fearsome reputation. Especially among the male disciples, who lived in constant fear. Some didn’t even dare speak to the Piaomiao peak sisters for fear of being caught by Chi Xiao and “paired off”—and if the pairing failed, they were in for a beating.

“Hmph.” Chi Xiao let out a disdainful snort, her crimson-gold eyes radiating overwhelming dominance. Despite being a woman, her presence was more imposing than most men.

She ignored the trembling disciple and strode confidently toward Shen Xian’er.

“Greetings, Senior Brother Du Ming, Senior Sister Lan Caicai,” she said respectfully. Though she didn’t get along with her peers—especially the male ones—Chi Xiao showed proper manners to her seniors.

Du Ming, fanning himself idly, chuckled. “So it’s Junior Sister Chi Xiao. I’ve heard a lot about you. Judging from your aura alone, I’d bet ten thousand spirit stones on you.”

Chi Xiao’s many nicknames—Blazing Demon, Madwoman, Demon Queen—were all brutally blunt and memorable. And from Du Ming’s perspective, she did indeed look like the type to bring misfortune to any future husband. Still, he had to admit, anyone who could tame this wild horse would be “blessed” for life.

“My thanks for the kind words, Senior Brother,” Chi Xiao replied with a formal fist salute, then turned to Lan Caicai.

As their eyes met, an invisible spark ignited between them, a sharp tension rising.

Both were cut from the same cloth—fierce, competitive, and utterly unyielding.

The surrounding disciples instinctively stepped back, including Du Ming himself. After all, these two were no ordinary women. Lan Caicai had repeatedly challenged Ye Qingqing and lost, yet never gave up. Chi Xiao, on the other hand, was the unrivaled leader among the younger female disciples.

Two tigers locked eyes—one wrong move and a fight could break out.

“Ahem…” At that moment, Lu Long appeared behind Chi Xiao and lightly poked her, silently reminding her this wasn’t the time to brawl. The competition hadn’t even started yet.

“I’ve heard much about you, Sister Lan. It’s an honor to finally meet you,” Chi Xiao said, still brimming with fierce energy but choosing respect for now. Her master often praised Lan Caicai’s spirit and urged them to learn from her.

Lan Caicai gave a faint smile. “Likewise, Junior Sister Chi Xiao. If you ask me…” She glanced at the nearby male disciples. “You’re doing a great job. These brats need someone to keep them in line.”

Her sudden praise stunned the crowd. This was a complete shift from her usual demeanor.

The onlookers immediately took three more steps back.

The worst-case scenario had occurred.

The two tigers didn’t fight. They joined forces.

Now the little lambs—namely, the rest of the male disciples—were doomed.

“This isn’t the place for talking,” Du Ming said suddenly, his words like those of a savior. In that moment, he was a beacon of hope for all the men present.

“Agreed,” Chi Xiao nodded, and with a wave of her hand, the Piaomiao peak sisters parted the crowd like a tide.

Leading the group, Chi Xiao marched into Luoxian Plaza like a returning general, bold and unstoppable.

Chapter 77

"Really?" Shen Xian'er’s bright eyes sparkled. "Food so delicious that even immortals would be tempted!"

She immediately stood up, clasping her hands together, her mind filled with images of steaming, fragrant dishes. Drooling like a true foodie, she looked so adorable that even Du Ming and Lan Caicai were taken aback.

Especially Du Ming.

He knew Shen Xian'er loved to eat, but he hadn’t expected her to be this gluttonous—it was almost on par with his own obsession with reading people's fortunes.

"Of course. That kind of food is so rare even I haven't had the chance to taste it," Han Luo said, picking up a cup of tea and sipping it leisurely, his movements unhurried. Seeing the eagerness in Shen Xian'er’s expression gave him an inexplicable sense of achievement.

"Then... then... senior brother..." Shen Xian'er, her face flushed red, puckered her lips and scooted closer to Han Luo, subtly nudging his arm with her flat chest, trying to hint at her thoughts without saying them aloud. After all, she had just said she didn’t want to attend the Luoxian Assembly, but now, with the promise of delicious food, she was tempted again—too embarrassed to ask directly, she could only act coyly.

Of course, her little scheme was obvious to everyone present, whether it was the two humans, the cat, or the dog.

"Don’t worry," Han Luo chuckled, agreeing readily. "I know your love for good food. I wouldn’t dream of competing with you for it."

"Mm, mm, mm! Senior brother, you’re the best! You’re the best in the whole wide world!" Shen Xian’er beamed with joy, grabbing the unwilling Xiaobai and spinning around in circles.

Du Ming and Lan Caicai could only shake their heads at the sight. Since they were about to leave and might never return, they said nothing more—but inwardly, they worried for the naive Shen Xian'er. Judging by the conversation just now, she was completely wrapped around Han Luo’s little finger. They could only hope Han Luo wasn’t a scumbag.

"Please don’t worry," Han Luo said, easily catching the concern in their eyes. "Xian'er is my junior sister. How could I ever harm her? As the most talented disciple of Luoxian Sect, it would be unthinkable for her not to participate in the Luoxian Assembly. Besides, even if I wanted to harm her, Master would hunt me to the ends of the earth and skin me alive."

He spoke steadily and calmly, answering their unspoken worries.

Yet inwardly, he thought to himself—whether it was Shen Xian'er or these two seniors who were about to leave, they were already within the palm of his hand.

As always, there were only two real choices in life: either develop stealthily, hiding away and growing stronger until fully equipped to dominate—or simply gain enough power to crush everyone from the start.

Most would pick one of these paths. Han Luo? Naturally, he chose both.

"Since it’s settled, make sure you don’t miss the timing for the Luoxian Assembly," Du Ming said, standing up. After exchanging a few polite words with Han Luo and Shen Xian'er, he left with Lan Caicai.

"Goodbye, senior brother and sister!" Shen Xian'er waved at them before quickly turning back to prepare for the assembly.

On the road—

"Senior brother, this Han Luo is so strange," Lan Caicai said, frowning. "He clearly only has the cultivation of the seventh stage of Qi Refining and has refined his spirit body just five times. By all logic, he shouldn’t give off that kind of deep, unfathomable feeling."

Despite their brief interaction, Lan Caicai couldn’t shake the sensation that everything had unfolded precisely according to Han Luo’s intentions. Even now, after putting a considerable distance between themselves and Luoxian Mountain, she still felt faintly controlled.

"Han Luo is definitely not simple," Du Ming said, twirling his folding fan. "He’s the kind of cultivator who, like me, acts with flair and leaves without leaving a trace, hiding all his accomplishments."

The first part sounded decent, but the second half revealed his shameless nature. Lan Caicai couldn't help but roll her eyes at him.

Still, thinking about it carefully, their levels of shamelessness were indeed comparable.

"Silly girl," Du Ming said, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "The world is vast, filled with countless people and countless things we don’t know. So, it’s best to focus on doing what we should, walking our own path. As for the character and choices of others, it's neither our responsibility nor within our control, right?"

He looked at her warmly, the setting sun casting a soft glow over them, making him appear affectionate and sincere.

"Hmph, acting like you know everything," Lan Caicai huffed—but she still wrapped her arm around his without hesitation.

The two of them, bathed in the sunset, disappeared slowly over the horizon.

Back on the peak of Luoxian Mountain, in front of an ancient bronze mirror, Han Luo muttered to himself, "Not my business, not my business, not my business..."

Watching the mirror’s image of the departing pair, he replayed their conversation in his mind.

To be honest, Du Ming was quite similar to him—unrestrained, carefree, good at offering comforting words, and very effective at it, too. The only difference was that Du Ming lacked his own level of caution—or perhaps, he was just cautious enough that even Han Luo hadn't been able to detect it.

"Ahhh—" Stretching lazily, Han Luo shook out his stiff limbs. Lately, he had been so busy he hadn’t had a proper night's sleep.

He decided: today, he would do absolutely nothing but catch up on his rest, replenishing his energy for the long road of cultivation ahead.

After having dinner with Shen Xian'er, he went into his secure house and slept like the dead for two whole days and nights, completely oblivious to the passage of time.

When he finally woke up, the morning sun shone with the same fresh vitality as it had for countless years before, bringing with it the hope of new beginnings.

After brushing his teeth and washing his face, Han Luo felt thoroughly refreshed. With the Luoxian Assembly still a few days away, he headed to the library.

According to his ten-year plan, he needed to master formations, alchemy, and talisman crafting.

He had already reached a bottleneck in formations; progress would now depend on long-term accumulation and practice to create more advanced arrays. Alchemy was the same—each pill formula and spirit herb was different, requiring endless study and hands-on testing.

Thus, the focus shifted to talismans.

Talismans were one of the most commonly used tools for cultivators and also one of the skills Han Luo was most familiar with. Many of his powerful trump cards were linked to talismans.

In truth, the basic principle behind crafting talismans was simple: using a carving knife to inscribe spiritual energy onto special materials.

But as always, the simpler something seemed, the harder it was to truly master.

Han Luo made his way to the talisman section, picked out a few foundational manuals, and began studying.

Several days later, after grasping the basics, he selected a few commonly used talismans to practice carving.

The carving process was painstaking and monotonous—on par with extracting spirit herbs during alchemy—but Han Luo found it refreshingly new and fascinating.

With just a knife, he could create talismans capable of producing incredible, almost magical effects. The possibilities broadened his horizons immensely.

Time flew by like an arrow.

Before he knew it, a month had passed, and the day of the Luoxian Assembly had finally arrived.

Chapter 76

The Luoxian Tournament was a very special event, organized exclusively by the Luoxian Sect.
As the name suggested, it was the sect’s traditional competition — a classic plotline found in almost every novel.
Of course, while the tournament’s structure differed from story to story, there was one key difference here.

In most novels, tournaments were all about personal ambition — fighting for oneself, for a younger sister, an older sister, for a higher ranking, or for better resources.
While some participants at the Luoxian Tournament also harbored such goals, the majority carried a very different sentiment.
You could even call it a grand farewell party.

Because after the Luoxian Tournament, the senior brothers and sisters of the previous generation would leave to serve on the Golden Battlefield.
It couldn’t be helped — with the demonic invasion underway, every cultivator above the Qi Sea stage was required to serve ten years on the Golden Battlefield, while those below that stage could volunteer.

Under such circumstances, the Luoxian Tournament carried a solemn, bittersweet atmosphere every year.
Perhaps it was Yun Yangzi's influence — during his leadership, he instilled a strong sense of family into the sect, making each generation extraordinarily united.

At the tournament, winning was important, of course, but even more crucial was showcasing one's abilities to the senior brothers and sisters, reassuring them that the Luoxian Sect would be safe in the hands of the next generation.

Naturally, personal interests also played a part; those who performed well on the Golden Battlefield could earn greater cultivation resources for their sect.
All these elements combined, making the Luoxian Tournament a grand, emotional event.

To be honest, when Han Luo first learned about the true sentiment behind the tournament, even he was tempted to participate — to fight for the Luoxian Sect, for the senior brothers and sisters who would leave and perhaps never return.
Fortunately, he had good self-control; otherwise, he might have been swept up by that overwhelming emotion, becoming a part of it until his death.

From this, it was clear that Yun Yangzi was a pretty competent sect leader.

“What does Master say?” Han Luo asked, wanting to hear his master’s opinion.

“You still don’t know his personality? He told us to decide for ourselves,” Du Ming said, exchanging a helpless look with the others.
It couldn’t be helped — they had a master who loved seclusion.
Good thing there were only a few of them; otherwise, Wudao Peak would’ve descended into chaos.

“Alright, I'll call Xian’er back so we can discuss it together,” Han Luo said, taking out a transmission stone to summon Shen Xian’er.

Before long, Shen Xian’er rushed back, full of energy.
“Du Ming senior brother! Cai Cai senior sister! I missed you so much!” she cried sweetly, throwing herself into Lan Caicai’s arms to bask in her warmth.

“You brat! If you missed me so much, why didn’t you come visit Three Immortals Mountain? Always running off to play with that useless bunch of women,” Lan Caicai said, still harboring a grudge against the ladies from Piaomiao Peak — she had challenged their mountain a few times, only to be beaten back by Ye Qingqing.

“Hee hee hee…” Shen Xian’er blushed and tried to laugh it off but still got her cheeks ruthlessly pinched by Lan Caicai as punishment.

“Now that Xian’er is back, let’s get down to business,” Du Ming said.

“What are we discussing… ah!” Shen Xian’er started to ask but froze when she caught sight of Han Luo.
“Senior brother, what happened to you? You’re not dying, are you?” she cried, about to burst into tears at the thought of losing her favorite chef.

“Alright, alright, don’t cry. I’m fine. I just look different after the Spirit Tempering process,” Han Luo said with a chuckle, and Du Ming and Lan Caicai tactfully kept his secret.
Everyone had their little secrets, and sometimes it was best to just let things be.

Shen Xian’er inspected him seriously, then nodded solemnly.
“Senior brother, you used to look normal, but you were still great!” she said earnestly.
Seeing that she was about to go off on another tangent — likely about food — Han Luo hurriedly cut in.

“Du Ming senior brother has something important to discuss with you. Sit down first. We’ll talk about food later,” he said.

“Mm-hmm!” Shen Xian’er nodded quickly, secretly thinking her senior brother was the best for understanding her hunger.

“We’re about to hold the annual Luoxian Tournament, and we need to decide who will represent Wudao Peak — you or your senior brother,” Du Ming explained.

Shen Xian’er poked her chin thoughtfully with a finger, trying hard to look like she was deep in thought, probably wondering if the Luoxian Tournament was something delicious to eat.

“Meow meow…” came a sudden cry from Xiaobai.

“Xiaobai says the Luoxian Tournament is all about fighting — intense battles where people might die. Xian’er doesn’t like fighting, so Xian’er doesn’t want to participate,” she said, tears brimming in her big, pleading eyes as she looked at Han Luo.

Her meaning couldn’t be clearer:
Senior brother, you go fight. I’ll cheer for you!

Du Ming and Lan Caicai also looked at Han Luo.
By rights, as the senior brother, he ought to take the initiative and fight for Wudao Peak’s honor.
Honestly, the two of them had only come to go through the motions and remind him not to forget the tournament date.

As for Han Luo, he definitely didn't want to participate.

Even though the Luoxian Tournament carried deep emotional value and could greatly boost one's confidence, participating would also expose his existence.
Right now, aside from a few peak lords and these people before him, almost no one in the Luoxian Sect knew he existed.

The peak lords wouldn’t talk, and Du Ming and Lan Caicai were about to leave for the Golden Domain.
Others like Jiu Li'er and Da Niu assumed he was from Yunding Peak, not Wudao Peak.

If he showed up at the tournament, he would undoubtedly draw attention — and with Shen Xian’er’s outstanding talent already making waves, people might start investigating him.
Once people paid attention, he could get tailed, and once tailed, his secrets might get exposed.
He knew well: it’s not thieves you should fear most, but people coveting you day and night.

“Senior brother, you go fight! I’ll cheer you on!” Shen Xian’er suddenly produced a banner that read: "Senior Brother, You’re the Best! Go, Senior Brother!"
Du Ming and Lan Caicai also had encouraging expressions, practically shouting "Go for it!" with their eyes.

Han Luo coughed lightly into his fist.
At a time like this, he could only pull out his trump card.

“Xian’er, I heard that the first prize at the Luoxian Tournament is a legendary delicacy — even immortals would fall head over heels after tasting it. Since you don’t want to compete, I guess I’ll have to claim it myself. But don’t come asking for a bite later!” he said.

Hearing this, Xiaobai sighed and shook his head.
Poor Xian’er.
Your weak point is gripped so tightly by your senior brother that you’ll probably never escape from the palm of his hand for the rest of your life.

Chapter 75

“Junior brother, you're being rather secretive, aren’t you!”
Du Ming’s voice drifted up from the base of the mountain. With one arm around Lan Caicai and the other twirling a folding fan, he truly looked the part of a dashing young master.

“Senior brother Du Ming, senior sister Lan Caicai,”
Han Luo immediately greeted them with a respectful bow.

Truthfully, it was his first time meeting them in person, but he had long heard of their stories.
Du Ming was infamous throughout Luoxian Sect, notorious for his foul reputation. Despite being an expert at face reading—with an accuracy that was maddeningly high—his blunt way of speaking made him widely disliked, to the point that 99% of the male disciples couldn't stand him. Worse yet, even if you got angry, you couldn’t defeat him in a fight; you could only endure his mockery and stew in your own frustration.
Lan Caicai, on the other hand, was Du Ming’s dao companion—a woman of extraordinary talent, known for being a shameless romantic who adored Du Ming with unwavering devotion. She was one of the rare individuals in Luoxian Sect whom Du Ming never mocked, and together, they were considered something of a legendary couple within the sect.

“Junior brother, your Luoxian Mountain is truly something else!”
Lan Caicai’s eyes sparkled as she admired the surroundings—majestic mountains, flowing waters, cascading waterfalls, tiny islands, and playful spirit beasts—far more beautiful than her own Sanxian Mountain.

“Thank you for the compliment, senior sister,”
Han Luo replied politely, maintaining his respectful demeanor.

He had done his research on them beforehand.
Although Lan Caicai appeared easygoing, she was, in fact, incredibly proud, once proclaiming that her talent was no less than that of any super-genius. Her strength backed up her claims; among the previous generation of Luoxian Sect’s female disciples, she ranked second only to Ye Qingqing. She had challenged Ye Qingqing several times but was consistently defeated, leaving her disheartened.
It was during one of these low moments that Du Ming appeared at her side—and from there, their relationship followed the well-worn path of a cliché idol drama.

“How interesting!”
Unlike Lan Caicai, Du Ming wasn’t looking at the scenery at all.
Instead, he stroked his chin and studied Han Luo closely, his gaze carrying an insufferable mix of arrogance and slyness that made Han Luo extremely uncomfortable—he fought the urge several times to just punch the man.

“Junior brother, this is where you’re wrong. We’re all family here—no need to hide things from us.”
Du Ming, out of habit, had already read Han Luo’s face at first glance.
From a face-reading perspective, Han Luo had the kind of appearance that one would envy—a face practically destined for romantic entanglements.
But something was off.
It felt fake.

Han Luo’s heart skipped a beat, sensing that Du Ming might have noticed his disguise, but he couldn't be sure, so he shot him a cautious, questioning look.

“Junior brother Han Luo, I’m sure you’ve heard some of my legendary tales. I have two great passions in life—” Du Ming began with a sly smile.
“The first is your senior sister,” he said without shame.

“Senior brother!”
Lan Caicai blushed furiously, feeling completely mortified that he would say something so brazen in front of their junior brother. Surely such things were meant to be said at home!

Du Ming simply patted her shoulder reassuringly, then turned his attention back to Han Luo.
“And the second is face reading. So, you must know what I’m getting at.”

“Sigh…”
Han Luo let out a long, defeated sigh, perfectly capturing the expression of someone who had been caught red-handed. His posture drooped, his eyes full of reluctant helplessness—it was an Oscar-worthy performance that could be used as a textbook example of acting.

“Senior brother Du Ming truly lives up to his reputation. I thought I had hidden it well, but clearly, I couldn’t fool you.”
Han Luo shook his head repeatedly, expressing heartfelt admiration.

Then, reaching up to the side of his face, he slowly peeled off a thin disguise mask, revealing a completely different face underneath.
Looking closely, the transformation was astonishing—the differences were so profound that you would never link the two appearances unless you had witnessed the change yourself.
Even the subtle shifts in his facial expressions made his gaze feel entirely different. Clearly, Han Luo had prepared thoroughly.

“Junior brother, have you been disguising yourself all along?”
Lan Caicai was stunned. She hadn't noticed a thing, despite the fact that her cultivation was a full major realm higher than his—she was at the Qi Sea stage!

“Junior brother, do you have enemies within Luoxian Sect? If so, just tell me. I’ll take care of it for you.”
Du Ming’s voice was full of brotherly righteousness, though deep down, he was marveling at Han Luo’s incredible concealment skills.
If he hadn’t been both highly skilled in face reading and vastly stronger than Han Luo, even he wouldn’t have spotted the disguise.

That said, among cultivators, one's aura was more important than one's face.
Even if someone changed their appearance, their qi signature wouldn’t change—after the Spirit Tempering stage, a cultivator’s aura became fixed unless they ascended and transformed their spiritual energy into immortal qi.
So, Du Ming couldn’t quite understand why Han Luo would bother with something so “superficial” as disguise techniques.

“To be honest, senior brother,” Han Luo said openly, “back when I was still a mortal, I offended quite a few people. I learned some basic disguise skills from a wandering jianghu expert—please don’t laugh at me.”

And he wasn’t lying.
During the ten years he spent preparing to join Luoxian Sect, he had done some rather unsavory things in order to gather resources.
Otherwise, where would he have gotten all those explosive talismans, concealment charms, and so on?
Disguise techniques had saved his life more times than he could count, which was why, even now, he often wore multiple disguise layers for safety.

“I see,”
Du Ming said, nodding in understanding, although he secretly cast another subtle technique to double-check whether Han Luo was still hiding another layer of disguise.
Finding nothing, he smiled apologetically and said,
“Junior brother, please don’t take offense. It’s just an old habit of mine to read faces. As an apology, let me give you a proper reading.”

With that, Du Ming leaned in and stared at Han Luo intently.
Honestly, having another man stare so hard at him felt downright creepy—Han Luo’s whole body tensed instinctively.

“That’s enough already,”
Lan Caicai muttered, nudging Du Ming. They were family; there was no need to be so serious. If he really wanted to scratch that itch, he could find some other disciples to read.

After a long pause, Du Ming finally shook his head and said solemnly,
“Junior brother, I’m not trying to alarm you, but your face shows signs of an impending blood disaster.”

“What can I do to avoid it?”
Han Luo’s heart gave a sharp jolt.

“Simple. Stay home and don’t go wandering around.”
Du Ming offered the advice without hesitation.

“Thank you for the warning, senior brother,”
Han Luo replied, mentally noting it down.

“Oh, right—what brings you two here today?”
After all, besides their titles of senior brother and senior sister, he and these two were practically strangers; it had taken them five whole years to even meet him.

“Our reason for coming is simple,”
Du Ming explained.
“First, as you know, your senior sister and I will soon head to the Golden Battlefield. Whether we make it back is uncertain, so we wanted to meet our little junior brother at least once.
Second, the Luoxian Tournament is about to start, and we came to ask whether it’ll be you or Xian’er representing Wudao Peak.”

Hearing this, Han Luo immediately recalled—
the Luoxian Tournament was right around the corner.

Chapter 74

Awakening from his memories, his eyes were still moist with tears.

The lonely peak had already emerged from the endless darkness.

A sliver of morning sunlight rose from the horizon, casting its glow on his face.

He looked so incredibly ordinary—without even a trace of immortal aura—like a completely forgettable nobody, the kind of background character in a novel who doesn’t even deserve a name and exists only to marvel at how powerful the protagonist is.

The tenth spirit tempering was complete.

His thoughts returned to the present.

Inside Safe House No. 1, Han Luo stared at his reflection in the mirror. There were no noticeable changes—if anything, he looked even more unremarkable than before.

But of course, Han Luo didn’t think of himself as ordinary.

He raised his hand. A wisp of colorless spiritual energy floated in his palm. It looked completely normal, no different from any common spiritual energy.

With a thought, the colorless aura shifted—one color, then three, five, nine—and finally returned to being colorless once more.

Fascinating. Truly fascinating.

He could actually control the degree of spirit tempering at will—an ability that was utterly absurd by any standard.

After playing around for a while, he settled on five refinements. Five was about average in Luoxian Sect—not too high, not too low, just right to avoid attracting attention. Combined with his ordinary appearance, it would be difficult for anyone to take special notice of him.

He didn’t leave Safe House No. 1 right away. Instead, he pulled out a little notebook and began reflecting on the insights he had gained from this round of spirit tempering.

Spirit tempering was, after all, one of the most important stages in a cultivator's path. It didn’t just refine spiritual energy—it strengthened the soul, toughened one’s will, and polished one’s character. It was a true baptism.

After this process, one could finally let go of past burdens and truly step into the path of cultivation.

All valuable knowledge.

Han Luo carefully recorded each point in his notebook. When he finished, he glanced at the time—and froze.

What the hell?

Only ten minutes had passed?

Even counting the time he spent writing, the actual spirit tempering couldn’t have lasted more than a minute.

Impossible.

He looked around suspiciously, trying to find anything unusual.

Could he still be trapped in an illusion?

Han Luo seriously began to doubt whether he had really completed the process. After all, it had felt like he had experienced an entire year—but in reality, not even a minute had passed.

To test this theory, he stood up straight and started moving his hands—forward, backward, left, right, drawing circles, squares… even attempting to sketch the legendary "Eight Steeds Painting"—though that failed due to the lack of brush and ink.

Still uneasy, he took out his ancient bronze mirror to double-check everything.

Ten minutes later, he was finally certain—he had truly completed the spirit tempering.

Leaving Safe House No. 1, he returned to the peak of Luoxian Mountain.

Standing at the summit, gazing down at the land that belonged to him, everything seemed unchanged, as though nothing had happened.

He sat down on a stone bench, sipping tea and enjoying the view.

“Seems like I gained something interesting,” he murmured.

In that moment, a misty fog appeared behind him. Within the fog, a vast world floated in and out of existence. At first glance, it seemed far away and unreachable—but then it felt as though it was right in front of him, as if he were already within it. It was nothing short of miraculous.

“Tenfold World.”

That was the name he gave to his domain.

As for what kind of power it held or what made it special—those were things to be explored later. There was no need to rush. Time, after all, was the least of his concerns.

He put away the Tenfold World and once again disguised himself as an average disciple with five spirit temperings. With the colorless aura, he didn’t even need the ancient bronze mirror to conceal his cultivation—no one would be able to detect his true level. The purity of the aura was real, not fake—it was simply capable of changing forms at will.

Now that the spirit tempering was done, his Qi Refining stage was complete.

Next up was Foundation Establishment.

Foundation Establishment was just as important as spirit tempering—perhaps even more so. He would need to be extremely careful, planning every step, and under no circumstances could he let the success of ten temperings make him complacent.

As he mentally laid out his plan for Foundation Establishment, a ripple of energy came from the Immortal Trapping Formation.

Inside the formation—

“Junior sister, are you sure we’re in the right place?”

Du Ming, tall and fair-skinned, held a folding fan and exuded the air of a refined nobleman.

“I don’t think it’s wrong. This is where junior brother Han Luo lives. Why would Master lie to us?” Lan Caicai frowned at the maze-like formation before her, uncertain if she had misheard the instructions.

“No need to worry,” Du Ming said gently, placing an arm around Lan Caicai’s shoulders, his gaze filled with warmth.

“With you here, I’m not afraid of anything,” she replied, eyes full of admiration as she looked up at her senior brother.

Du Ming nodded, surveying the surroundings.

“This little junior brother of ours truly is gifted—he actually set up a third-grade formation on Luoxian Mountain. That’s more advanced than even some of our senior uncles.”

He praised Han Luo as he flicked open his fan. Several glowing stars shimmered across it, forming a faint star map.

And though it was bright daytime with clear skies, under Du Ming’s mystical technique, actual stars began to appear overhead—twinkling vividly despite the sun.

“Open the path,” he murmured, connecting with a specific star.

The star blinked, then shifted direction slightly.

“Let’s go, junior sister.”

With his arm around her, Du Ming followed the guidance of the star as they strolled through the formation like a leisurely walk in the park, admiring the scenery—until they calmly emerged from the Immortal Trapping Formation.

Divine Art: Star-Gazing

Star-Gazing was a unique divine ability developed specifically to prevent losing one’s way.

Cultivators generally relied on two things to establish themselves—magical treasures and divine arts.

Magical treasures, second only to the cultivator themselves, were indispensable tools for both attack and defense.

Divine arts, however, were mysterious and powerful techniques that allowed cultivators to push their potential to the limit and unleash world-altering strength. But mastering a divine art wasn’t about picking the most impressive one—it was about choosing the right one.

Take Star-Gazing, for example. Though incredibly difficult to learn, its only function was directional guidance—making it a high-effort, low-reward technique in most eyes.

That Du Ming had chosen to cultivate such an ability meant he likely possessed immense talent in divine arts—a fact that hinted at just how powerful he truly was.

And this powerful senior brother had never visited him once in five years.

Now, of all times, he suddenly appeared.

This could only mean trouble.

Chapter 73

Han Luo rubbed his eyes in disbelief as he looked around.

Right now, he was lying on a small bed, and judging by the familiar surroundings, this was his old home—no mistake about it. Somehow, it felt like he had traveled back in time to his childhood.

Could it be? Had breaking through the limits of the tenth Spirit Tempering truly allowed him to time travel?

He found it hard to believe. Moving his body a little, he confirmed—it really was a child’s body.

Of course, deep down, he knew he was in an illusion.

He had already experienced mental trials during the eighth and ninth Spirit Temperings, so it wasn’t surprising that the tenth would present an illusion as well. What surprised him was that it had taken the form of his childhood home.

"So this is what you’re trying to do—trap me forever in fond memories of the past, huh?" Han Luo murmured to himself.

“Hey, lazy boy! It’s already so late and you’re still not up? You’ll be late!” his mother’s voice shouted from outside, piercing through time and memory, leaving Han Luo in a daze.

He quickly dressed and opened the door. A wave of mouthwatering aromas hit him square in the face—so vivid, so real.

In the kitchen, his mother was waging culinary war with the family’s nonstick pan, her practiced hands flipping eggs like a sailor steering a boat through a storm. Each time the eggs were about to flip out, she rescued them with ease.

On the sofa, his father sat calmly, glasses perched on his nose, a cigarette in one hand and a newspaper in the other. In that era when a single phone could connect you to the world, his father was truly one of a kind.

“What are you spacing out for? Hurry up and eat! It’s already so late!” his mother yelled again, almost roaring.

Han Luo’s eyes suddenly welled with tears.

Even knowing this was all just an illusion, the blood ties, that deep familial love, ran through his very soul.

His parents had died suddenly in a car accident. He’d barely processed it before he was thrust into this cultivation world, thinking he could start over—but the pain of that loss never really faded.

He was, after all, just a person—not some emotionless immortal.

Especially coming from a modern society, the need for family bonds ran far deeper than in the Eastern cultivation world, where cultivators seemed aloof and detached, barely human anymore.

“I’m sorry, Mom, Dad… I have to go,” Han Luo whispered.

Without hesitation, he turned and jumped out of the fourth-floor window.

“Aaaahhh!” his mother’s scream echoed behind him, followed by the unmistakable crash of the nonstick pan hitting the floor.

Boom!

His consciousness plunged into darkness.

When he woke again, a cool, gentle hand was touching his forehead.

“You’re awake!” said a young nurse who looked like she was barely out of school.

“…This is… a hospital?” Han Luo sniffed, catching a strong scent of disinfectant.

“Where else? You’re lucky to be alive after jumping off the fourth floor,” she snapped, clearly unimpressed.

“Excuse me, big sis… What floor is this?” Han Luo asked politely.

The nurse gave him a sideways glance. “What, planning to jump again?”

She waved a thermometer in the air, checking it against the light. “I’m telling you, our hospital—ah!”

Before she could finish, Han Luo was already out the window with a whoosh.

Clang!

He smacked right into the window guardrail.

“…Damn it, this was the first floor?”

And with that, he fainted again.

When he came to, he was tied to the hospital bed. Nearby, his parents were anxiously talking to the doctor. The moment they saw him awake, his mother rushed to his side and clutched his hand.

“Xiao Luo, are you okay? Whatever it is, you can tell Mom. I’m here.”

Seeing her tear-filled eyes, Han Luo felt a pang in his chest. Could it really be that he’d traveled back?

No… this illusion was just too real.

“I’m okay, Mom…” he replied softly, trying to reassure her.

Once the doctor had finished checking on him and asked a few questions, they untied him. Since he’d fallen, he had to stay in the hospital for a few days, but luckily, he’d only suffered minor injuries thanks to getting caught on an old tree.

Sitting on the hospital bed, Han Luo flexed his hand. Everything felt so real—it was almost unsettling. He pinched himself and winced. It hurt. He even tried drawing blood with a needle.

“What the hell are you doing!?” the nurse from earlier suddenly barged in, knocking over a tray in shock. It was as if she thought he was assaulting her—she immediately launched a barrage of wild punches.

Han Luo just sat there, holding his pose, watching her go off like a whirlwind.

Eventually, she ran out of steam and noticed him staring at her like she was crazy. Blushing furiously, she brushed her hair behind her ear, bent down, and started cleaning up the fallen equipment.

“Lift your arm, I need to take your temperature,” she said calmly, pretending nothing had happened.

Han Luo raised his hand, looking at her flushed face, then—stab!—he poked her wrist with the needle.

Silence.

Then, a scream loud enough to shatter glass.

He was instantly knocked over and pelted with all kinds of flying objects.

Even the people in this illusion felt too real.

Covering himself with his arms, he couldn’t help but think, This is insane.

The next day, he was forcibly discharged from the hospital.

He had wanted to apologize—after all, even if it was just an illusion, what he did was kind of messed up. But the head nurse told him the young nurse had resigned that very day.

Han Luo was a little disappointed. He had thought it might turn into a sweet memory.

But it was over.

Back home, at his mother’s urging, he packed his bag and headed to school.

Throughout the entire day, Han Luo was well aware that none of it was real.

Still… he had to admit, he enjoyed it.

The familiar stern teacher, his loud and loyal best friend, the pretty deskmate with freckles—every face from his youth came back to life.

You know, that freckled deskmate later became a famous beauty blogger with over a million followers. His best friend went on to become a chef and even studied abroad. As for the class flower, whom all the boys adored—rumor had it she was now divorcing her wealthy husband.

And their poor homeroom teacher… passed away one night while grading papers. Han Luo had even attended the funeral.

Everything around him was both strange and achingly familiar.

That night, Han Luo stood on the rooftop of a high-rise across from his old apartment building.

He lit a half-smoked cigarette from his pocket, took a long drag, then exhaled slowly.

Some things belong to the past. They’re beautiful only in memory. If I really had the chance to live it all over again… it wouldn’t mean anything.

But after seeing the wonders of the cultivation world, he had come to believe one thing—at the end of the immortal path lies reincarnation. So he would walk this road, one careful step at a time, until he reached the end of that path.

And there, he would see his parents again.

That would be the true reunion of their family.

He flicked away the cigarette butt and stepped forward with unwavering resolve.

Chapter 72

Han Luo stared at everything before him, feeling like the world was toying with him.

This wasn’t Safehouse No.1, nor was it the base of the lonely peak where he had fallen moments ago.

In fact, he hadn’t moved at all.

The lonely peak was still the same lonely peak.

The darkness remained unchanged.

Nothing had actually happened. Everything he’d experienced—like that overly energetic square-dancing lady or the guy sitting on durians because of a hemorrhoid flare-up—had been an illusion.

A complete hallucination.

The only thing that was real now… was that the peak was still ascending.

As he calmed himself and thought it through, a chill crept over him.

If he had taken a supreme grade Spirit Tempering Pill just now, the surge of spiritual energy from both sources might’ve overloaded his body and caused him to explode on the spot.

The path of cultivation truly wasn’t so simple.

Heaven’s trials were ever-present and relentless.

To gain greater power, one must always be prepared to take greater risks.

Unless, of course, you were a second-generation immortal.

Han Luo sat on the steadily rising peak, surrounded by darkness. He had no idea how much longer the ascent would continue, nor what altitude he had already reached. There were no reference points around him—but he could feel it clearly: the spiritual energy within his body was undergoing a transformation.

In his consciousness, he remained in a world of darkness. But in the outside world, inside Safehouse No.1, Han Luo sat cross-legged in the Spirit Tempering Array, radiating a solemn and divine presence.

Nine-colored divine light poured from his entire body, turning the space into a dazzling kaleidoscope—like a glittering disco ball illuminating the entire safehouse.

A sacred and inviolable aura permeated the surroundings.

He looked like a true immortal descending to the mortal realm, glowing with eternal brilliance.

Faintly, behind him in the hazy mist, a massive world seemed to rise and fall—a terrifying sight to behold.

At the same time, a vision appeared in the skies over the Eastern Domain.

A five-clawed golden dragon, so massive its length was beyond imagination, coiled through the heavens. Its golden scales shimmered like mountain ranges, and its mighty body seemed to hold up the sky. Under its dragon might, all living beings bowed in submission.

It soared above the Eastern Domain, as if declaring its arrival to the entire world.

“The Emperor is descending—our Eastern Domain has finally welcomed its destined ruler,” someone whispered, their words spreading across the land and sending shockwaves through all cultivators. No one knew which ancient powerhouse had emerged from seclusion.

“With such a spectacle, he’ll definitely attract unwanted attention,” another voice replied from across the skies, equally audible throughout the domain, shocking countless people.

“Hehehe…”

Laughter echoed.

High above the imperial capital, a thin elder floated in the air—it was his laughter that everyone heard.

“Imperial Mentor! Why are you laughing?”

The cultivators were stunned.

“Could he be that ruthless figure—the one who personally founded the imperial capital?”

The old man stroked his white beard and chuckled.

“No need for concern. With this old man around, I guarantee the rightful heir will come to no harm.”

His words rang out like a warning to all cultivators of the Eastern Domain. His aura alone justified the title of Imperial Mentor.

Silence fell.

The golden dragon hovered above the imperial capital, seemingly ready to dive into it.

Suddenly—

The entire Eastern Domain trembled violently.

The sky, once bathed in golden light, turned pitch black on one side—as if the sun had been swallowed whole.

And from within that darkness, a black dragon emerged, even larger and more powerful than the golden dragon.

Its overwhelming dragon might shook the heavens.

The moment it appeared, it stood in perfect opposition to the golden dragon.

The two divine dragons stared each other down across the skies.

And while everyone’s attention was locked on their celestial clash, no one noticed the swirling mists high above them—where an entire world silently emerged.

Within that mysterious realm, one could clearly see towering mountains, vast rivers, ancient trees reaching the heavens, and countless living creatures…

Everything about that world radiated grandeur and mystery.

But it didn’t last long.

Just as some powerful figures, including the Imperial Mentor, sensed its presence, the world vanished into the mist, disappearing without a trace.

“What a troublesome little fellow,” came a voice tinged with amusement from a secret chamber within Luoxian Sect.

The two massive dragons dominated the skies, their sheer presence enough to shake the heavens.

Their dragon might stirred the entire Eastern Domain, sparking a fierce debate among cultivators over which dragon was stronger—who truly deserved the title of Heaven’s Chosen.

“Of course it’s the golden dragon! That’s Heaven’s chosen Emperor, selected by the Dao itself—a savior meant to lead us into a new golden age!” one excited voice proclaimed, face flushed with passion.

“Not necessarily,” came a cooler response.

“The black dragon is the supreme ruler among dragons, no less powerful than the golden one. They represent emperors and kings respectively. Their battle’s outcome is uncertain, but let’s hope it benefits our Eastern Domain.”

“Well said,” another person added.

“Golden or black—it doesn’t matter. As long as they fight for the people of the Eastern Domain, they’re good dragons. But if either turns traitor, we’ll chop them up and eat them!”

A burly man over two meters tall, dressed in animal hides with a face full of wild beard, bellowed this with such force that everyone instinctively stepped aside.

“Damn!”

“Did he just say eat a dragon? This guy’s insane!”

“He’s from the Valley of Fiends. Of course he’s insane.”

“What?!”

The speaker immediately shut up, as if he’d crossed some forbidden line.

Thus began the battle between Emperor and King.

Meanwhile, atop the lone peak, Han Luo felt the changes in his body and confirmed it without a doubt—he had completed his ninth Spirit Tempering.

He had reached the peak of the ninth refinement.

The floating peak had halted its ascent, suspended in the dark world without descending.

Han Luo looked up into the endless darkness above.

For a fleeting moment… he felt he could keep climbing—break the record.

And that single moment of doubt turned into certainty.

Of course he had to go for it—why else would he have prepared so many supreme grade Spirit Tempering Pills?

His true goal had always been the tenth Spirit Tempering.

Even though it was almost mythical, with no written records, Han Luo’s analysis convinced him he could do it.

He possessed a supreme spiritual root.

Ordinarily, the number of Spirit Temperings one could undergo was tied to the quality of their spiritual root:

Sixth-grade root—six refinements.

Seventh-grade root—seven refinements.

Supreme root—nine refinements.

But clearly, exceptions existed.

Chi Xiao had a sixth-grade root but tempered seven times.

Xian’er had a seventh-grade root but tempered eight times.

So with a supreme root, ten refinements should be the true limit.

His certainty wasn’t based on blind arrogance—but on careful observation, analysis, and data collected from tens of thousands of Spirit Temperings.

He believed in the numbers—and he believed in himself.

Without hesitation, he took out another supreme grade Spirit Tempering Pill and swallowed it.

The peak trembled, and the ascent resumed.

But this time, the speed was tens of times slower—like a crawling snail. Without close observation, one might not even notice it moving at all.

Han Luo wasn’t anxious.

He sat calmly on the peak, patiently refining the pill’s power.

Suddenly—

A gentle light brushed across his face.

Instinctively, he opened his eyes.

And upon seeing what was around him—

His mind went completely blank.

Chapter 71

The seventh Supreme Spirit Tempering Pill slid down his throat, and the solitary peak beneath Han Luo continued its ascent.

Crack!

A crisp sound echoed clearly, making Han Luo tense up slightly—it was his inner world, the spiritual manifestation of his mental strength, that had started to fracture. The sudden crack caused a momentary daze, but fortunately, it was just a single fissure.

Or so he thought.

Crack!

Another sharp sound rang out.

Han Luo couldn't help but mutter, You’ve got to be kidding me.

As if responding to his thought, web-like cracks began spreading across his inner world. In the next instant, it shattered into fragments and vanished entirely.

Yet at that very moment, he succeeded in completing his seventh spirit tempering, reaching the peak of this stage.

Standing atop the now-lofty peak, he glanced down at the world below—and immediately understood why the seventh tempering was called Grand Completion. At that moment, he felt like the king of the world, with everything beneath his feet. Honestly, it was an exhilarating feeling.

Maybe… maybe stopping here would be wiser. Perhaps ending his spirit tempering now would offer the most long-term benefits for his cultivation.

But as he lifted his gaze, what greeted him wasn't a blue sky—it was a vast, pitch-black night, dark as ink.

By all logic, he had already reached the Grand Completion of seven temperings. But having witnessed Xian’er’s eighth tempering and read of a ninth in ancient texts, Han Luo knew the peak still had room to rise.

Yet above him loomed a darkness like a monstrous beast, jaws wide open, as if ready to devour him whole.

Thankfully, he was well-prepared.

Relieved by his own caution, Han Luo seized the moment while the peak still held its height and consumed the eighth Supreme Spirit Tempering Pill.

Rumble...

The solitary peak continued to rise and, in the blink of an eye, pierced the ink-black night.

Moments later, Han Luo found himself entirely engulfed in darkness. Above, below, and all around—nothing but endless black.

The most terrifying thing about darkness is how it distorts your sense of time. In this place, a single second felt like ten thousand years. An overwhelming sense of loneliness wrapped itself around him. Despite his careful preparations, Han Luo still felt deeply unsettled as solitude crept into every part of his being.

Suddenly, a wave of warmth rose from beneath his feet.

He crouched down and gently touched the surface of the peak. The warmth made him reluctant to leave, as though he could stay there forever.

Outside, in Safe House No. 1, his physical body began to emit a soft white glow—gentle, ethereal, almost identical to the radiance Xian’er had released during her ascension.

So this is what it feels like to transcend?

Back in the darkness, Han Luo slowly rose to his feet. Surrounded by crushing loneliness, he smiled lightly.

He had to admit—he was grateful for having transmigrated to this world. During that process, he had experienced something eerily similar: the same cold, the same loneliness, the same sense of dying a thousand times. Honestly, he didn’t know how he survived. But it had gifted him with something priceless.

Of course, the reason he lingered in that comforting warmth earlier was simply to enjoy the moment. Spirit tempering was a one-way road—once the chance passed, it was gone forever. There was no harm in savoring the process a little.

Back in the real world, his body was still glowing gently, though the light now seemed contained.

With the eighth tempering complete, Han Luo wasted no time—he took the ninth pill and began his attempt at the legendary ninth spirit tempering.

Based on his research and recent observations, he was fully confident in his success.

After all, he wasn’t the type to take risks without absolute certainty. And the key reason behind his confidence?

He possessed a Supreme-Grade Spiritual Root.

The best of the best.

Typically, a sixth-grade root allows six temperings, a seventh-grade root allows seven—basic cultivation knowledge. As someone with a supreme root, undergoing nine temperings should be a breeze. Add in his thorough preparations, and failure was simply not an option.

The peak kept rising, endlessly climbing through the dark, like a lone traveler pressing on through the night.

Han Luo sat cross-legged atop the summit, unguarded, meditating in silence.

Then—a breath. A human breath, faint but near.

Without opening his eyes, he felt something soft brushing against his arm.

As a seasoned veteran of certain... experiences, he immediately identified the touch.

At least a D-cup.

Soon, a soft voice whispered into his ear, laced with temptation. Even more, he sensed not just one, but a group of women dancing around him.

But to someone who had once lived next to Aunt Li’s square-dancing crew and Aunt Wang’s yangko team, all these "dances" now just triggered memories of loud speakers and aggressive aerobics.

What was the appeal?

Eyes still shut, Han Luo focused on meditating, letting the illusions dance in vain. In fact, this moment gave him the rare chance to reflect—on everything that had happened since he first joined Luoxian Sect.

With this peace and clarity, he began examining his journey, checking whether he had ever made any critical mistakes without realizing it. This was a habit of his.

He firmly believed that true freedom wasn’t about being left alone, or breaking all rules—it was about absolute self-discipline. To fully control your every action with sheer will—that was freedom.

History teaches wisdom. Reflecting on one’s past strengthened the mind.

And so, even as beautiful illusions tried to lure him in, Han Luo ignored them all.

Frankly speaking, he thought, If a woman can’t even compete with a video game, how can she hope to outshine cultivation? Where’s the confidence coming from?

The seductresses danced and brushed against him, hoping to break his focus—but it was pointless. He remained still as a Buddha in meditation.

Eventually, the women disappeared. The air filled instead with ghostly howls, cries full of misery—so pitiful, it was like sitting on a durian with untreated hemorrhoids.

“Quite the variety of tricks, huh,” Han Luo muttered, unfazed, continuing his introspection.

The peak’s ascent slowly halted.

Han Luo opened his eyes.

At that moment, he stood like a miniature sun atop the peak, his presence dispersing the surrounding darkness.

Ninth tempering… complete?

He wasn’t sure. It had been almost too easy—which made him suspicious.

Although he had reached the peak of the ninth tempering, Han Luo could still sense that there was room to go even higher.

He took out one more pill and brought it to his lips.

Ancient texts never mentioned a tenth tempering. The ninth was considered the limit.

But that wasn’t the full story. Many of those old records left the pages after the ninth tempering blank—deliberately so, he suspected.

This might be his one and only chance to break through the unknown.

If he didn’t try now, he might never get another opportunity.

But just as he was about to take the pill…

Wait!

Something felt off.

He couldn't say exactly what, but his sixth sense screamed a warning. Years of caution had sharpened his instincts.

So he didn’t take the pill.

He’d already reached nine temperings—an achievement matched by very few in history. There was no need to take an unnecessary risk now.

What if he screwed up? That’d be incredibly embarrassing.

Better to play it safe.

He put the pill away.

Right then, the summit began to fall.

At first it was slow, but the descent accelerated rapidly. Wind howled past his ears.

Boom!

With a muffled thud, the peak’s fall ended.

It was over.

Han Luo slowly opened his eyes—only to freeze in shock.

What the hell!?

They can play it like this too?!

Chapter 70:

BTW guys I have changed Glutton to Gluttony Domain

"Xian’er, how’s your mastery of the Gluttony Domain coming along?" Han Luo asked.

He was about to begin his Spirit Tempering process, and didn’t want anyone on Luoxian Mountain during it. Time to send the little girl away.

"Senior brother! Senior brother!" Shen Xian’er came riding up on Jiutong, excitedly bounding over to him.
"I've completely mastered the Gluttony Domain. If you don’t believe me, just watch!"

As she spoke, Shen Xian’er raised her hand and summoned an array of delicacies—all formed from spiritual energy, each one capable of being used as a magical artifact to harm enemies.

Then, with her mouth wide open, she bit into the spiritual food… and her cheerful expression instantly collapsed.

"Ew! This tastes awful!" she exclaimed, but even as she complained, she took another bite.

"Of course it tastes bad. Everything in a Domain is made of spiritual energy. The purer the energy, the more tasteless it becomes," Han Luo patiently explained.

"Then, senior brother," she asked with a mouth still half full, "does that mean if our spiritual energy becomes completely colorless and tasteless, we can become immortals?"

You had to admit—when Xian’er had food in her mouth, her brain worked remarkably well.

"Wrong," Han Luo replied, handing her a bag of potato chips. "I don’t know how to ascend to immortality yet, but it definitely doesn’t happen just because your spiritual energy becomes colorless and tasteless. That just means your energy has returned to its purest, most basic form. As for becoming an immortal… you’ll have to wait until your senior brother figures it out first."

"Alright, alright. When you become an immortal, just remember to tell me!"
Xian’er didn’t have a clear concept of what 'immortality' truly meant—if she did, she might just assume immortals tasted delicious.

Having fully grasped her Domain, Shen Xian’er left Luoxian Mountain to go play with the ladies at Piaomiao Peak. Before she left, Han Luo made her swear not to reveal that she’d already undergone eight rounds of Spirit Tempering. Though that sounded unbelievable and enviable, it could also bring her disaster.

With how naive the girl was, you never knew when someone might trick her.

So in this world, staying low-key and hiding your strength was the key to survival.
Of course, if you can't keep a low profile, then you'd better have the strength to control the whole situation.

Shen Xian’er hugged Xiaobai, returned Jiutong to the Mirror World, and activated the Immortal Trapping Formation. With everything secured, Han Luo was now alone on Luoxian Mountain.

He headed for Safety House No. 1.

This was the safest, most hidden, and most fortified of all his safe houses, and it had taken a great deal of effort to construct. Naturally, its effectiveness was impeccable—so much so that even Yunyangzi, the strongest elder in Luoxian Sect, wouldn’t be able to sense Han Luo’s presence if he were hiding inside.

Inside Safety House No. 1, Han Luo activated every formation and sealed the entire space from all directions.

With everything ready, it was time to begin.

He activated the Spirit Tempering Formation. A twelve-petal pink lotus slowly rotated, and Han Luo sat atop it. From his bronze ring, he took out a top-grade Spirit Tempering Pill and swallowed it.

The moment the pill entered his system, he felt a powerful force condensing within his body.

He activated the Luoxian Art and began refining that force. The entire process went smoothly—unsurprisingly so, as he'd already planned everything to avoid any unexpected incidents. He was walking an absolutely safe path.

The first round of Spirit Tempering began.

Han Luo could already feel the changes in his body: his physical form was becoming tougher and more powerful, his mental strength had increased—a rare gain—and his spiritual energy showed clear signs of refinement.

So many benefits from just one round.

He nodded in satisfaction and continued refining the pill through the Luoxian Art.

While refining, his mind wandered back to his notes.

He had analyzed tens of thousands of Spirit Tempering sessions conducted by Luoxian Sect disciples and discovered an important principle—Spirit Tempering required rhythm.

The essence of Spirit Tempering lay in refining spiritual energy to make it purer, but using Spirit Tempering Pills didn’t make it a perfectly stable process. It was more like climbing a mountain: at first, you ascend step by step, reaching a peak, and then you descend again until the effect gradually fades—this typically marked the end of a round.

But that was not the optimal rhythm.

The ideal approach was to consume the second pill right at the peak—using its power to keep yourself at the summit. You hold that state as long as possible, pushing forward until you truly can't endure anymore—then you begin descending. That was a proper rhythm.

Han Luo’s Spirit Tempering Formation was built on that exact principle—to help him stay at the peak for longer.

As he recalled all the information he had gathered, he made sure there were no gaps in his preparation. The Luoxian Art continued circulating, gradually refining the Spirit Tempering Pill within him.

He was still climbing the mountain.

The path ahead was steep and dangerous, with cliffs on either side. Each step forward required caution.

Han Luo advanced slowly but steadily. Even after running countless tests and gathering vast data, he remained vigilant—he didn’t want even the smallest surprise.

He didn’t know how much time had passed, but eventually, he found himself standing atop a solitary peak.

Below him stretched a breathtaking landscape, scenic and beautiful—so tempting that it made him want to descend and explore.

But he stayed sharp.

“It’s time,” he muttered.

Without hesitation, he swallowed the second top-grade Spirit Tempering Pill.

Immediately, the peak beneath him began to shake—like an elevator rising toward the sky. It wasn’t just maintaining his peak state—it was elevating him even further.

This revelation made Han Luo realize there was still room to optimize his formation.

As the peak continued to ascend, powerful gales battered him. The pressure was intense.

Thankfully, the Luoxian Art created a protective shield around him. Though safe for now, Han Luo didn’t let his guard down. Sitting cross-legged, hands and feet aligned with the heavens, he maintained his meditation while summoning the Ancient Jade Visualization Technique in his mind.

Suddenly, a lush and vibrant miniature world materialized around him, forming a barrier that helped resist the overwhelming pressure of the Spirit Tempering.

The second pill soon reached its full effect—marking the end of the second round.

Without pausing, Han Luo consumed a third pill.

Just like before, the peak began to rise again. But this time, it wasn't wind—it was fire.

Blazing flames surged up around him, threatening to consume everything in sight. Fortunately, the miniature world shielded him from the worst of it.

Everything continued according to his plan, without a single mishap.

The fourth, fifth, sixth rounds followed.

The solitary peak climbed ever higher. The earth below grew smaller and smaller, until it seemed impossibly far away.

By the time he completed his sixth round, the entire world beneath him was laid bare before his eyes.

But Han Luo had no time to admire the panoramic view.

It was time.

He swallowed the seventh top-grade Spirit Tempering Pill.

Chapter 69

"Ahem..." Xiaobai cleared his throat and said softly, "According to legend, the highest number of Spirit Tempering completions is nine. That was back in the ancient era, when the connection between humans and the Dao of Heaven was much stronger, and the spiritual energy of heaven and earth was thousands of times richer than it is now. In today’s world, even eight temperings seems impossible, let alone nine."

Han Luo nodded in agreement.
He completely shared Xiaobai’s view.
Back in the library pavilion, he had read countless ancient texts and could clearly sense that the heaven and earth of the ancient era was a completely different world compared to now. That era was truly the golden age that all cultivators dreamed of. Nowadays, one might as well call it the twilight era. Who knows what a mess the Eastern Domain will become in another million years?

"Han Luo, do you know why Xian’er was able to complete her eighth tempering?" Xiaobai asked.

Though Han Luo's strength was still weak, Xiaobai found him unnervingly unpredictable. Even powerful figures like Sect Master Yunyangzi and the various peak lords had suffered setbacks at his hands—some were even inexplicably counter-killed. It was hard to pin him down.

Han Luo rubbed his head, thought for a moment, and casually said, "A pure heart."

"You actually know about the 'pure heart of a child'?"

Xiaobai was genuinely surprised at Han Luo’s breadth of knowledge.

"Hey, I’m a diligent student, okay?"

As a cultivator whose caution was greater than his will to live, Han Luo never acted unless he was absolutely certain of success.

"You’re not wrong," Xiaobai said in a lecturing tone. "Because Xian’er possesses a pure heart—or perhaps more accurately, the heart of a glutton—she was able to roam freely during the Dao Transformation stage without incurring punishment from the Dao of Heaven. If it were anyone else, they’d never make it. There are simply too many distracting thoughts. And during the eighth tempering, even the slightest stray thought is like a deadly beast. You think Dao Transformation is a joke? If your heart isn't pure, Heaven will punish you and throw you into the abyss."

Han Luo took out his notebook and jotted down all this precious insight.
If what Xiaobai said was true, then he really had no chance at attempting the eighth tempering—at least not for now. He definitely didn’t have the same purity of heart that Xian’er did. If he accidentally entered the Dao Transformation state, all his messy thoughts would probably get him killed.

"Han Luo, I was wondering why you haven't tempered your spirit yet. Don’t tell me you’re aiming for eight temperings with your talent?"

Xiaobai looked at him with an amused smirk.

Han Luo’s talent was as plain as a bowl of clear water—easy to see through. Forget eight temperings, even five would be considered an overachievement.

"I’ve thought about it," Han Luo joked. "I just need a bit of help. Got any methods to lend me a hand?"

"Pfft! If you can complete eight temperings, I’ll take your surname and call myself Han Xiaobai!" Xiaobai snorted in disdain. She was still holding a grudge over Han Luo’s earlier treatment of Xian’er and couldn’t resist jabbing back.

"Han Xiaobai... has a nice ring to it," Han Luo mused, rubbing his chin.

"Keep dreaming, you delusional fool!"

While the two bickered, Shen Xian’er slowly regained consciousness.

It had to be said—after completing her eighth tempering, her aura had undergone a terrifying transformation. That’s not an exaggeration—Han Luo was shocked to find that not even the ancient bronze mirror could see through her anymore. The level of purity in her spiritual energy was unimaginable—almost like she’d stepped into another dimension.

"Xian’er, how do you feel?" Han Luo asked.

Shen Xian’er glanced at her senior brother, then raised her chubby little hand.

In that instant, all kinds of delicious food appeared around her.

"A domain!" Han Luo blurted out in astonishment.

So, completing the eighth tempering had actually awakened her own domain. That was unexpected.

"Xian’er, for the next few days, focus on mastering your gluttony domain. You're not allowed to leave until you’ve fully digested it."

"Mm!" Shen Xian’er nodded vigorously, then actually began eating the food floating around her.

"That’s not what I meant by 'digesting it'! Let me teach you the right way," Xiaobai quickly pulled her aside and began instructing her on how to properly use her domain.

Meanwhile, Han Luo sat on a stone bench, deep in thought.
Eight temperings sounded a lot harder than he’d hoped, but honestly, this was the first time he had run into a real challenge in his cultivation journey.
Rather than feeling frustrated, he was full of excitement and confidence.

From the moment he began cultivating, he’d never once hit a wall.
Finally—finally—he had found something genuinely difficult.

He grinned. "You tricky little thing... I’m not letting you get away. Let’s see what you’re really about."

Seven days later.

In the grassy field below Luoxian Mountain, Shen Xian’er stood barefoot, her small white feet peeking out from beneath a pink princess dress. She floated gently in mid-air, looking just like a little angel.

She raised her chubby hand, bit her lip, and let out a loud cry:
"Gluttony Domain!"

In an instant, all kinds of delicious food materialized around her—
Fragrant roast duck, tender braised pork, colorful fruit cakes, tasty drinks… a visual feast.

"Xian’er, I’m coming for you!"

Xiaobai appeared, wearing a fake long nose and a devil horn headband, her expression deadly serious.

"Bring it on, Pinocchio Cat! Watch as Princess Xian’er takes you down!"

Xian’er pouted and shouted with determination.

Whoosh!
Xiaobai transformed into a flash of white light, charging at her.

"Braised pork!" Xian’er shouted, and the chunk of meat beside her shot out like a weapon, howling through the air toward Xiaobai.

"Nice move!" Xiaobai didn’t flinch.

"Smash!" she yelled, slashing with his sharp claws.

Swish swish swish—
Three strikes, and the meat was cut into sixteen perfect pieces.

"I’m not done yet!" Xian’er cried out with fierce focus.

"Fruit cake barrage—go!"

Several cakes floated up around her, the fruit toppings launching like missiles toward Xiaobai.

"Ahahaha! Princess Xian’er, marry me and I’ll show you true happiness!" Xiaobai said with exaggerated villainy, spinning and slashing at the incoming fruit like a mad chef.

Swish swish swish!
In seconds, she shredded every piece, then dashed forward in one smooth motion until she was standing right in front of her.

"Princess Xian’er, no one can save you today!"

Xiaobai flashed what she thought was a very evil grin, trying to play the role more convincingly.

"Ahhh!"
Xian’er panicked on the spot and bolted toward Luoxian Mountain, yelling as she ran, "Senior brother, save me! Save me!"

Up on the mountain, Han Luo rubbed his forehead. He really shouldn’t have told her the story of Pinocchio and Snow Princess.

"Jiutong!" she called out.

Hearing his name, Jiutong immediately understood.

"Woof woof!"
The big dog galloped over, letting Xian’er hop onto his back. She clung to his soft fur as they raced around the base of the mountain.

"Stupid dog, stop right there!" Xiaobai roared.

She was furious now. What started as playful acting had turned into a real chase.

"Put Xian’er down! I said stop!"

Xiaobai swung his claws at Jiutong, landing serious attacks—as long as it didn’t kill, it was fair game.

"Woof woof!"
Jiutong barked in response and even glanced back at Xiaobai mockingly before suddenly accelerating, widening the gap between them.

And so, a girl, a dog, and a cat ran around Luoxian Mountain in playful chaos, the scene unexpectedly heartwarming.

Meanwhile, Han Luo had finished his adjustments and was finally ready to begin his Spirit Tempering.

Chapter 68

In a garden on Piaomiao Peak, a group of beautiful young women were gathered, chatting and playing together. They had surrounded Shen Xian’er like she was a little Buddha. Her belly was round with food, a chicken in her left hand and a duck in her right, her mouth stuffed with who-knows-what as she mumbled unintelligibly.

“Doo doo doo… doo doo doo…”

Suddenly, the communication spirit stone inside her embroidered sachet began to ring. Shen Xian’er quickly wiped her hands and picked it up.

“Xian’er. Food. Come back now.”

Hearing her senior brother’s voice, she instantly jumped to her feet.

“Umm… sisters, I suddenly miss my master. I’ll come back and play with you later, okay?”

Without wasting time, she took out her bowl-and-chopsticks treasure and packed up all the delicious food nearby. Then, glancing back reluctantly every few steps, she finally left.

On Luoxian Mountain—

“Senior brother, I’m back! Bring out all the delicious stuff—I’ll help you take care of it!”

Shen Xian’er came running in, her big eyes scanning the place for any signs of food.

Han Luo raised his hand and took out a supreme-grade Spirit Tempering Pill.

“Wow! What’s that? It’s glowing! It must taste amazing!”

Xian’er had no idea what a supreme-grade Spirit Tempering Pill was. In fact, she didn’t know what a pill was at all. In her worldview, anything that could go in her bowl was edible.

And if it came from her senior brother? Then it had to be something great.

“This pill is called a supreme-grade Spirit Tempering Pill. It’ll help you refine your spirit again and improve your strength.”

“I can still temper my spirit?!”

Xian’er had been hearing a lot lately about the 'seven refinements' being the limit. She naturally knew seven was the cap. So how could her senior brother say there was still more?

“But senior brother, my godmother said seven times is the max. Can I really temper again?”

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust her senior brother—it was just that she was curious how he always knew so much.

“No, no,” Han Luo waved his hand. “For ordinary cultivators, seven refinements is the limit. But you’re not ordinary. You possess a rare seventh-grade spiritual root—almost unheard of in history. I believe you can complete the eighth refinement.”

He sounded completely confident.

“Really?!”

“Of course! When have I ever lied to you? Don’t worry. Once the refinement is over, I’ll prepare the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime culinary masterpiece.”

Honestly, even Han Luo couldn’t help but swallow his drool just thinking about it.

That dish really was too powerful.

“Okay okay okay! Let’s get started then!”

Sure enough, once food was mentioned, Xian’er’s IQ dropped to the negatives.

“Alright.”

Han Luo activated the Spirit Tempering Array and had Xian’er sit in the center. He handed her the supreme-grade Spirit Tempering Pill.

Without hesitation, she swallowed it whole, making Xiaobai shake her head.

Eat, go ahead and eat. Sooner or later, that senior brother of yours is going to poison you to death.

As soon as she swallowed the pill, Xian’er’s body reacted intensely.

A powerful aura of spiritual energy began radiating from her.

Han Luo stood to the side, unusually serious. He kept full control over the Spirit Confining Formation and the ancient bronze mirror, ready to intervene at a moment’s notice.

But it seemed his worries were unnecessary.

As the refinement progressed, Xian’er gradually entered a focused state. Strange phenomena began manifesting around her. This time, they were even more terrifying than last time.

Dragons, phoenixes, white tigers, and qilins appeared lifelike. A single glance at them could make one's soul tremble in fear.

Fortunately, the Spirit Confining Formation was at full strength, and the ancient bronze mirror, a postnatal spirit treasure, suppressed the pressure.

Otherwise, the entire Luoxian Sect might have been alarmed.

As the refinement deepened, Xian’er’s body began emitting a soft white light. The glow resembled cotton candy and drifted off in pieces with the wind—utterly magical to behold.

“This is bad!”

Xiaobai cried out in shock.

“Han Luo, stop her! She’s undergoing Dao transformation!”

She turned into a streak of white light and rushed toward Xian’er, raising her paw to try and stop the process.

“Freeze.”

Han Luo raised his hand and suppressed her in place.

“Are you crazy?! Stop her now! If anything happens to Xian’er, I swear I’ll kill you!”

The goldencharacter on Xiaobai’s forehead glowed fiercely, and waves of terrifying power surged out of her. She struggled wildly like a mad cat, desperate to stop what was happening.

“Dao transformation…”

Han Luo murmured the term, recalling its meaning from ancient texts.

Dao transformation: a process where one’s spiritual energy and physical body dissolve into the world, returning to the source.

Typically, it’s the most dignified death for a cultivator who has no hope of breakthrough or is facing certain death.

One’s power comes from the heavens, and ultimately returns to the heavens.

At this moment, Xian’er was clearly going through that exact process.

If he didn’t act fast, she might actually vanish from the world.

And what did Han Luo do during this critical moment?

He solemnly took out his little notebook and began recording every step of the transformation.

“You bastard, Han Luo! You’re still taking notes at a time like this?! Stop her already!”

Xiaobai was nearly hysterical, yelling at the top of her lungs.

The white glow around Xian’er intensified. Like snowflakes, the light began to drift upward.

Oddly, her face showed no pain—on the contrary, she seemed to be enjoying herself.

Those who undergo Dao transformation get a final gift from the heavens: they get to relive their happiest moments.

That’s one of the reasons some cultivators choose to transform.

A painless end… and a chance to fix their biggest regrets.

As the transformation continued—

“That should be enough.”

Han Luo closed his notebook and looked at Xian’er, who was still immersed in bliss.

He raised his hand and took out a plate of Peking roast duck from his mirror world.

The scent wafted through the air.

Xian’er’s little nose twitched. Her body suddenly jolted, and she instantly opened her eyes.

The moment she did, the Dao transformation stopped and all the phenomena vanished.

To undergo Dao transformation, one must surrender entirely to heaven and earth. Even the slightest hesitation spells failure.

“Wow! Roast duck! My favorite! Senior brother, you’re the best!”

Food was her ultimate weakness. In front of roast duck, Dao transformation wasn’t worth a fart.

“You little glutton, not yet. First, stabilize your new realm.”

“Okay, okay, okay!”

Xian’er nodded and immediately began consolidating her cultivation.

The eighth refinement—complete.

“The eighth refinement?!”

Xiaobai was dumbstruck.

She couldn’t believe it. In her entire life, she never thought she’d witness such a miracle.

“You actually helped Xian’er complete the eighth refinement!”

Her view of Han Luo had changed completely.

This guy wasn’t just a schemer—he was a real genius. The array, the supreme pill, it all pointed to his exceptional talent.

“You knew about the eighth refinement?” Han Luo asked.

“Of course… no! Of course not!” Xiaobai almost slipped but quickly denied it.

Her reaction, however, told him everything he needed to know.

“You’re not that simple. Spill everything you know, or else…”

Han Luo pulled out a rainbow-colored cat teaser wand.

“Don’t waste your time, Han Luo. Even if you give that to Xian’er, I won’t say a word.”

Whatever goodwill Xiaobai had for him instantly vanished.

Genius? Ha! He was a demon. A complete and utter demon.

“No, I won’t give it to Xian’er. I’ll give it to the girls on Piaomiao Peak.”

Han Luo flashed an evil grin. He could already imagine the chaos. Hilarious.

“You… You shameless scoundrel!”

Xiaobai cursed him outright, furious at his underhanded threats.

“Hey, watch your words, Xiaobai, or I’ll sue you for slander,” Han Luo teased.

“You… despicable, vile, perverted…”

Xiaobai lost all composure, cursing him like a street brawler.

“Done cursing? Then tell me what you know.”

She glared at Han Luo, knowing full well this bastard was capable of following through on every threat.

She had no choice.

She had to give in.

Chapter 67

Refining a supreme-grade pill is never an easy task. The word “supreme” represents perfection, and achieving perfection in anything is no small feat.

Han Luo calmed his mind and used spiritual energy to ignite his pill flame. Then, with utmost precision and focus, he began refining one spiritual herb after another. His every movement was deliberate and meticulous.

The first step in refining a supreme-grade pill was to purify the herbs nine times. This wasn’t just a test of spiritual power—it demanded deep familiarity with each herb, precise control over the flame, sharp sensitivity to the surrounding spiritual energy, and countless subtle skills honed through experience. A true alchemist had to endure long hours of solitude, and their temperament had to be steady and calm.

The herb refinement process was dry and tedious, akin to a middle-aged man turning in his monthly taxes: boring, repetitive, and downright soul-crushing. It wasn't like the kind of meditation one did in cultivation, where you could close your eyes, open them again, and find decades or even centuries had passed.

No—refining herbs demanded complete clarity, unwavering focus, and not a single mistake. Every last drop of essence had to be drawn out from the herbs and fused into the final pill. There was no room for error. One slip, and the entire batch would be ruined—especially when it came to refining a supreme-grade pill.

But if there was one word that defined Han Luo, it was "focus." He approached everything he did with an unshakable dedication. Coupled with his daily practice of the ancient jade visualization method, his mental strength had improved rapidly, all in preparation for crafting the supreme Spirit Tempering Pill.

Using his body as the source of pill fire, he refined the herbs—once, twice, four times, six times… and finally, nine times. It seemed effortless, but behind that ease lay countless failed attempts, wasted materials, and ruined furnaces. Only after all that did he finally reach this level of mastery.

With the purification complete, Han Luo began the actual pill refinement. Most people would call this part dull and repetitive—but for him, it was anything but. To Han Luo, this was a brand-new world, one where he felt like a joyful fish swimming through a vast, mysterious sea. It brought him a deep, personal joy.

As the process progressed, the pill furnace trembled slightly—signaling that the refinement of a supreme pill was complete.

Han Luo slowly opened his eyes. His brown pupils were unremarkable—neither deep nor bright, and certainly not filled with stars like the legends—but if they held one strength, it was focus.

He glanced at the pill furnace on the table. There was no thundercloud, no cosmic phenomenon, not even a dazzling flash of color or the typical fragrant aroma of pill success.

“Could it have failed?” he muttered.

He opened the furnace lid and peered inside. At the bottom lay a pill the size of a pinky, dull brown in color and lifeless in appearance. It looked even more ordinary than regular pills—clearly the image of failure.

Putting on a pair of enchanted gloves, Han Luo carefully picked it up. But the moment his fingers touched the pill, a sudden surge of raw, unyielding spiritual force rushed toward him.

Han Luo reacted instantly, using his own spiritual power to shield himself.

“How interesting…” he murmured, examining the pill in his hand.

Though weak, the spiritual force inside the pill was astonishingly stubborn—like a rock that refused to crack. It fought back without fear. One of the hallmarks of a supreme-grade pill was a trace of spiritual will, a budding sense of life.

“This cultivation world really is full of surprises. Even a tiny pill can carry a flicker of instinct like an ant moving grain.”

Adjusting the lens of his enchanted glasses, he examined the Spirit Tempering Pill more closely, hoping to glean more useful data.

Suddenly, the pill burst with several blinding flashes of light and shot out of his hand with a sharp whoosh.

Han Luo made no move to stop it. He had already prepared, setting up multiple formations in the room to prevent such an escape.

The pill, no longer pretending to be lifeless, now darted madly around the alchemy chamber, crashing into walls in an attempt to flee. But no matter how wildly it struggled, escape was impossible.

"Return," Han Luo commanded.

The pill obediently flew back into his palm. He adjusted his glasses again to observe and record every detail, then summoned Jiutong.

“Jiutong, your master promised to help you complete seven temperings. This is a supreme Spirit Tempering Pill. Combined with the tempering formation, it should allow you to achieve that.”

Tongue wagging and eyes gleaming, Jiutong gobbled the pill without hesitation. Then, with the aid of the tempering formation, the process began.

As usual, Han Luo took out his little notebook and started recording carefully.

Two hours passed. When Jiutong opened his eyes again, Han Luo smiled—he could already tell that Jiutong had successfully completed seven temperings, placing him on par with powerful figures like Chi Xiao and Shen Xian’er.

“Woof woof…” Jiutong wagged his big head and rubbed affectionately against Han Luo’s leg, making his master feel warm inside.

Jiutong was like his own child. Helping him grow brought Han Luo genuine happiness. And honestly, the result had been within expectations—he knew Jiutong well, and he understood the supreme Spirit Tempering Pill’s power.

With Jiutong’s breakthrough complete, Han Luo got back to work. Over the following days, he refined all the remaining materials into more supreme Spirit Tempering Pills.

Once done, he gazed at the small mountain of pills before him and began to wonder—was this really that difficult? Maybe he should consider mass production. He could sell them or trade for things he needed.

He remembered something else he’d seen in the ancient texts: seven temperings was considered perfection, yet nowhere did it say that further tempering was impossible. Nor did it say it was possible. That in itself was telling.

After extensive research, he uncovered a shocking truth—seven temperings was not the limit. No one knew what the actual ceiling was. Somewhere along the line, seven simply became the universally accepted maximum.

As a cultivator with a thirst for discovery, Han Luo decided to experiment and see whether further tempering was possible.

Naturally, his first thought was Jiutong. They were closest, and Jiutong was obedient—an ideal partner for experimentation.

But after thinking it over, he shook his head. The eighth tempering would likely have extreme requirements for talent, and Jiutong, at the end of the day, was just a regular dog. Forcing him through another round could be fatal. Han Luo wanted to experiment, not commit murder.

That left only one candidate—Shen Xian’er, the ever-hungry foodie.

With her seventh-grade spiritual root, she was likely capable of handling an eighth tempering. It seemed entirely feasible.

Decision made, he pulled out his communication stone.

“Xian’er, I’ve got food. Get back here. Fast.”

A small note

Hi guys,

You must be wondering what happened, I want to clarify to u all that, first of all I have already written book 1 about 120 + chapters so it will absolutely will be posted here daily after editing, so DW about that.

Now, as for what happened.

I removed it intentionally due to some family stuff going on as I don't have enough energy to take care of RR and everything I will probably re release it or we will see but not till everything is resolved and back on track.

As for book 2 I will do a poll once Book 1 is completely done to ask whether I should write it or release a new fic on Royal Road or do both (a few months later), you guys can tell me then but that will take some time so enjoy this story first and some people here on Patreon and other authors also suggested that I release it on KU after Book 1 is done which will take some time as that will have to wait till Book 1 is posted and edited here completely and if I do end up going for it, U guys will have to help me on KU then and I will ask u guys then through a poll and decide on that, meanwhile enjoy reading and thanks for supporting me.

Chapter 66

“Master Uncle Yun yangzi, why don’t you stay for a meal before leaving?”

It was a rare opportunity to be alone with a Nascent Soul-level expert. Just a few casual words from such a figure could benefit him for life—how could he let this chance slip away?

“Eat?”

The word sounded foreign to Yun yangzi. He couldn't even recall the last time he ate—perhaps it had been hundreds of years.

“Very well.”

Seeing Yun yangzi agree, Han Luo immediately got to work preparing a few of his signature dishes and uncorked a bottle of aged Erguotou, pouring two cups.

At the dining table, Yun yangzi looked like a kind and approachable old man, entirely devoid of the pride or aloofness typical of high-level cultivators.

“Not bad at all,” Yun yangzi praised, visibly surprised. “Not only is your cultivation talent outstanding, but your cooking skills are also quite impressive.”

“Thank you for the compliment, Master Uncle,” Han Luo replied, feeling both flattered and honored.

While he could still bear the pressure from Golden Core cultivators like Hongniang and Yun ding, the invisible pressure Yun yangzi exerted nearly crushed him—even though Yun yangzi hadn’t released a shred of his spiritual aura. The weight came from the soul itself, a pressure that threatened to overwhelm him entirely.

Yet Han Luo wasn't discouraged. In fact, he welcomed it.

He wasn’t a masochist—he just knew his talent was frighteningly high, so high it even scared him sometimes. If unchecked, he feared he might become arrogant. Being in close proximity to a powerhouse like Yun yangzi helped him stay grounded, reminding him to remain humble and tread carefully with every step.

“Master Uncle…”

As a modern-day soul transmigrated into this cultivation world, Han Luo was deeply obsessed with the Dao. Naturally, he wasn’t going to waste such a precious opportunity—he dove into a series of questions about cultivation.

It pained him to think that his own master was always in closed-door cultivation. The number of times they’d met could be counted on one hand, let alone any proper guidance. So now that he finally had a true expert in front of him, he was determined to make the most of it.

Yun yangzi didn’t hold back. He patiently explained every question, and Han Luo listened intently, thoroughly immersed in the conversation.

When Han Luo next opened his eyes, three days had passed.

“Han Luo, your comprehension is extraordinary. If you ever have any doubts in the future, feel free to come to me,” Yun yangzi said with great satisfaction.

Among his peers, Han Luo had already surpassed everyone in their generation—perhaps even their senior brother. But what pleased Yun yangzi the most wasn’t just Han Luo’s talent, it was his attitude. He never glossed over anything. Every question, no matter how small, had to be fully understood before moving on. Though it felt excessively cautious, Yun yangzi saw it as a valid path of cultivation.

There are countless paths to immortality.

Some break through via combat, facing death and danger to ascend.
Some rely on pills, moving forward carefully and eventually soaring to the heavens.
Some are blessed with endless fortune and opportunities, climbing rapidly to great heights.

But in Yun yangzi’s eyes, no two paths to immortality were ever the same.

Each cultivator walks a unique path. Some endure the darkness and finally see the light of dawn, while others fall midway and are never heard from again.

With the rising sun behind him, Yun yangzi departed.

Han Luo then spent another three days digesting all the knowledge he had gained. Although his cultivation hadn’t improved, his understanding of the Dao had deepened significantly.

During these six days, the various peak lords began testing the newly installed Spirit Tempering Arrays on their disciples. As it was the initial trial, they didn’t use them on their prized disciples but on some of the more average ones.

The results were nothing short of stunning. At minimum, a disciple’s spirit tempering effect improved by one level, while the luckiest among them saw an improvement of three levels in a single go. It was astonishing.

Han Luo activated his bronze mirror.

Each Spirit Tempering Array had ancient bronze inscriptions carved by him, and every array's usage data was transmitted back to this mirror. As the numbers appeared before his eyes, he nodded with satisfaction.

This was exactly what he wanted.

He pulled out his little notebook and began analyzing the data, refining the array based on what areas still needed improvement.

Time passed swiftly—as it always did for cultivators.

Three months later, under Yun yangzi’s orders, Han Luo distributed another twenty Spirit Tempering Arrays to each peak.

The result? A massive wave of spirit tempering swept through Luoxian Sect.

Now, the first question disciples asked when they saw each other wasn’t “Have you eaten?” but “Have you tempered your spirit today?”

And at the center of it all were a few particularly dazzling stars.

Chixiao, a strong contender for the title of the sect’s number one disciple, shocked everyone by becoming the second person to complete seven rounds of spirit tempering with the help of both the array and Hongniang.

Next came Li Jun, the most beloved and respected disciple, who also completed seven rounds under the guidance of Peak Lord Yun ding and the array.

Three disciples achieving spirit tempering perfection in the same generation was unprecedented.

Even more surprising were the twelve disciples who reached six rounds of tempering, soon dubbed the “Twelve Yamas.”

The number of disciples who managed five rounds ran into the thousands. As for those with fewer than three rounds? None remained.

This phenomenon was unheard of in the three sects neighboring Luoxian Sect. For the first time, everyone felt that a golden age for the sect was just around the corner.

And the key that had unlocked this age was nothing more than a small, humble Spirit Tempering Array.

No one knew who had created it, nor where it had come from. But people were determined to honor the one responsible with a fitting title.

Eventually, after a vote, they decided on the name: Luoxian Zhenren.

“Luoxian” to represent the sect—its highest honor.
“Zhenren,” meaning a person who has stripped away all pretense and returned to a pure, natural state, in harmony with the heavens and the Dao.

For someone who gifted such a miraculous creation to the sect, this title was more than deserved.

Han Luo hadn’t expected his fellow disciples to give him such a grand title.

“Luoxian Zhenren,” he murmured, rubbing his nose. “Sounds pretty good.”

The improvements to the Spirit Tempering Array were nearly complete. After thousands of experiments, the array had finally become a fully stabilized, sellable formation.

Now, it was time to choose the right Spirit Tempering Pill.

Though the so-called “Perfect Spirit Tempering Pill” had shown solid results during testing, Han Luo wasn’t about to take it himself. After all, he’d made the pill—he knew exactly what “perfect” really meant. If there truly was such a thing as a perfect pill in this world, it would only be one kind: a supreme-grade pill.

Inside the pristine alchemy room, he washed his hands with clean water before pulling out a series of rare herbs from his bronze storage ring. These precious ingredients had been carefully collected by the peak lords and Master Uncle Yunyangzi, as agreed, specifically for crafting the supreme-grade Spirit Tempering Pill.

With everything prepared, Han Luo opened the pill furnace and began his refinement.

Chapter 65

Everyone present was smart enough to see through it—Shen Xian’er completing seven spirit temperings in such a short time and flaunting it like an official announcement was clearly orchestrated by someone.

Their first thought was Wu Dao.

They went to find him, but as usual, he refused to see them. That’s when they turned their attention to Han Luo.

And sure enough, when they arrived, everything made sense.

While they were astonished by Han Luo’s abilities, they also felt a renewed sense of hope for the future of Luoxian Sect.

Han Luo, calm and composed, simply smiled at the peak masters. Without saying much, he retrieved a spirit tempering array disc from his ancient bronze ring and activated it on the spot. As a Grade-12 pink lotus slowly began to spin, the peak masters were visibly stunned.

“This formation is called the Spirit Tempering Array,” Han Luo said. “It’s a special array I invented to assist in spirit tempering. As for its effects—well, you’ve all seen the results.”

The peak masters nodded.

Although Shen Xian’er possessed an exceptionally rare seventh-grade spiritual root, there was no way she could have completed seven rounds of spirit tempering in under twenty days. And the purity of her spiritual energy even surpassed that of Hongniang.

“You’re saying she completed all seven rounds using this array?” Hongniang questioned skeptically.

The array appeared simple and unimpressive—how could it possibly have aided her so significantly? She didn’t want to believe it, but the facts were undeniable.

“An interesting formation,” Yun Yangzi remarked, stroking his long white beard.

Among them, he was the most proficient in formation arts and could see a bit of what lay beneath the surface. Though the array looked straightforward, it was, in fact, extremely intricate—only someone with a very high mastery of formations could design it. Many of its finer details were beyond even his understanding.

Formations, like all arts, are difficult to grasp across disciplines. Especially so with formation arts, which rely heavily on talent; even someone at the Nascent Soul stage would find it hard to wield them with ease.

After examining the array, the peak masters turned back to Han Luo.

“Alright,” Yun Qianli said bluntly, “name your terms.”

Clearly, Han Luo had invited them here and showcased this miraculous formation for a reason. Yun Qianli didn’t believe for a second that Han Luo would hand over something so powerful to Luoxian Sect for free, no matter that he was technically a disciple of the sect. Han Luo was, after all, a cultivator with his own independent will.

Han Luo looked around at the group. “My request is simple. I want to make this Spirit Tempering Array available to every disciple of Luoxian Sect. I want to help the sect grow stronger.”

Silence followed—so heavy it was as if a bomb had gone off.

After a long pause, Lei Xing finally broke the silence. “Han Luo, I really don’t understand you.”

He didn’t look pleased, even a bit wary. They had all been through too much to believe in free meals. The implications of the Spirit Tempering Array weren’t lost on Han Luo—this wasn’t just some helpful tool, it was a game-changer.

It represented foundation—real, powerful foundation.

And foundation meant strength. It meant countless powerful cultivators rising through the ranks.

This was why the super immortal dynasties were called “super”—they produced an unending stream of strong cultivators.

With this array, disciples who could only undergo three or four spirit temperings could suddenly reach five or six. Over time, that difference would grow exponentially. With each new generation, the sect’s rise would be inevitable.

This kind of breakthrough was practically a miracle. And Han Luo was just giving it away?

“Han Luo,” Hongniang said gently, “just be honest. Don’t worry—Luoxian Sect has a strict rule: no internal bloodshed. Even if we tried to harm you, the sect’s twin guardian swords would strike us down instantly. So, even if you plan to leave, we won’t stop you.”

She had a bad feeling about all this. Han  Luo looked like someone preparing to leave behind a parting gift before heading off to join one of the super immortal dynasties.

And honestly, they couldn’t blame him.

With his talent, had he been born into a super dynasty, he would’ve already received their full support and resources. He might even rival them in power by now.

The Luoxian Sect, while labeled a mid-tier sect, only held its status thanks to its twin innate spirit swords. In truth, it was among the weakest of its class.

It was clear they all shared the same concern.

It’s only natural—people aim higher, just as water flows downward.

Still, the thought of losing someone like Han Luo filled them with a sense of powerless regret.

“Uh...” Han Luo scratched his head, picking up on their thoughts.

Truthfully, he had never planned to leave.

Why would he?

Luoxian Sect was great. A massive library full of cultivation manuals to study, twin innate spirit swords as protection—even someone in the Grand Ascension stage would think twice before attacking. He’d spent ten years evaluating sects across the Eastern Domain, and none suited him better than Luoxian Sect.

Even if they all left, he’d still stay.

As for giving away the Spirit Tempering Array for free? His reasons were even simpler.

The array wasn’t yet perfected—he needed test subjects to refine it. Luoxian Sect’s disciples just happened to be perfect for that. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Of course, he wasn’t going to say all that out loud. No need to offend anyone.

With a slight cough, Han Luo said, “Everyone, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I have my junior sister and master here in Luoxian Sect. I’m an orphan—this sect is my home. Why would I ever want to run away from home?”

His words were sincere, but the others still looked doubtful.

Seeing this, Han Luo added, “Alright, fine. There is one thing I do need your help with.”

He pulled out several jade slips and handed them to each peak master.

“These contain lists of alchemy herbs and formation materials I need. As you all know, I’m only at the Qi Refining stage. Getting these items myself would be next to impossible. But for you, it should be no trouble. That’s the only reason I called you here—please don’t overthink it.”

In his heart, Han Luo was practically begging them to believe him. He truly had no other motives—just needed a few errands run.

The peak masters glanced at one another and then scanned the jade slips with their divine sense.

Their expressions immediately twisted in pain.

Han Luo hadn’t lied—the lists were long and expensive. More importantly, every herb and material listed was at least 500 years old.

Five hundred years was a major threshold in cultivation, not just for humans but for spiritual plants and materials too.

“These are indeed rare and high-grade items,” Lei Xing muttered, nodding. It seemed Han Luo had been telling the truth all along.

“Han Luo,” Yun Yangzi said gently, “we truly apologize for the misunderstanding.”

As a respected Nascent Soul cultivator and the sect leader himself, Yun Yangzi’s humility shocked Han Luo.

The other peak masters also offered their apologies.

But it made sense—when you care deeply about something, your greatest fear is losing it.

“In that case,” Yun Yangzi continued, “leave the herbs and materials to us. And on behalf of all 100,000 disciples of Luoxian Sect, thank you for your generosity.”

With the matter settled, Han Luo retrieved seventeen Spirit Tempering Array discs from his bronze ring.

He handed four each to Yun Ding, Yun Qianli, Lei Xing, and Hongniang. Since Yun Yangzi’s disciples hadn’t yet begun spirit tempering, he gave him one for research purposes.

He then explained how to use the arrays.

The peak masters couldn’t wait—they left immediately to help their disciples temper their spirits.

Only Yun Yangzi remained, calmly sipping his tea, unmoved.

Chapter 64

Han Luo took out the ancient bronze mirror.

Inside the mirror, Uncle Lei Xing had inadvertently triggered a formation and was currently battling a qilin. Though he wasn’t in any real danger—his strength spoke for itself—he did appear rather anxious.

“It’s Uncle Lei Xing,” Han Luo said, about to head out to greet him.

“Wait,” Hongniang stopped him. “This kind of fun doesn’t come around often. Hand me the mirror.”

Clearly in a playful mood, Hongniang reached out for the mirror.

“Aunt, isn’t this a bit inappropriate?” Han Luo knew exactly what she intended to do. This was his territory—messing around with someone like Lei Xing would definitely come back to bite him. He could already imagine the trouble he’d be in if Lei Xing decided to hold a grudge.

“You brat, are you defying my orders now? Tired of living, are you? Hand it over, now!” Hongniang gritted her teeth, revealing her domineering side. She was practically a carbon copy of Chixiao in this moment—no wonder they were master and disciple.

Helpless, Han Luo surrendered the mirror to her.

With the ancient bronze mirror now in her hands—and as it served as the core of the Immortal Trapping Formation—Hongniang took complete control of the formation. A Core Formation expert managing a third-grade formation was worlds apart from when Han Luo operated it.

Han Luo immediately took out his notebook and crouched beside her, documenting everything.

Inside the formation, Lei Xing strode forward like a dragon, eyes wide like copper bells, wearing his usual stern expression—as if the whole world owed him money.

Han Luo’s formations are getting more and more sophisticated, Lei Xing thought to himself. I can barely make sense of them now.

Suddenly, he felt a heavy pressure in the air.

“Roar...”

A deafening beast’s cry erupted as a four-meter-tall white tiger emerged from the mist, pacing forward majestically.

A fourth-grade formation! Lei Xing was startled. He knew that fourth-grade formations could trap Core Formation cultivators—and more powerful ones could even inflict serious harm.

The white tiger in front of him radiated strength comparable to an early Core Formation cultivator.

Not daring to be careless, Lei Xing adjusted his stance, his evaluation of Han Luo rising once more—so much so that he felt a strange sense of powerlessness.

A mere Qi Refining cultivator, yet his formations can actually make me feel threatened? This is enough to make anyone want to curse.

With such talent, even the top geniuses of the great celestial dynasties might struggle to compare.

The future of Luoxian Sect... truly terrifying.

“Roar...”
The white tiger shook its head arrogantly and roared again, clearly provoked by Lei Xing’s dismissive attitude. With a growl, it lunged forward.

“Han Luo! I know you’re watching! I’ve come to discuss something important—please let me out!” Lei Xing called out while fending off the tiger, switching to a more diplomatic tone.

He understood his position well. In the vicinity of Luoxian Sect, he was a respected Core Formation cultivator—admired, even revered. But outside this area, he was just a small fish in an unimaginably vast sea. The Eastern Domain was too big, and true experts were as common as grains of sand.

Luoxian Sect was but a speck on the body of a giant, and he was merely a noticeable droplet of sweat on that speck.

But with Han Luo’s existence, Luoxian Sect had the potential to become a giant itself.

He and Hongniang shared the same thoughts—to support Han Luo’s rise and achieve immortality through him.

“You hear that?” Hongniang said smugly. “Your Uncle Lei Xing is being all nice to you. Don’t forget his kindness.”

Han Luo, ever perceptive, replied quietly, “How could I? We’re family—all disciples of Luoxian Sect. But if I had to choose, I’d definitely pick you, Aunt Hongniang.”

He said it with a completely straight face.

Han Luo was nothing if not cautious. Unless an apocalyptic crisis struck, he had no plans to step out of his hideout.

What he needed were strong errand runners—people who could collect rare materials and spiritual herbs for him.

Right now, Luoxian Sect’s rising stars like Danchen and Ye Qingqing were about to head to the Golden Battlefield to participate in the holy war. He couldn’t rely on them, nor did he intend to get involved.

The Golden Battlefield was unimaginably brutal. As talented as Danchen and Ye Qingqing were, who knew when news of their deaths might come? The demon race’s power was beyond imagination.

Excluding that generation, the only usable people left were the peak masters.

First, they were Core Formation experts—strong enough to handle most dangers and ensure successful missions.

Second, he had no other options. He couldn’t exactly send Chixiao to run errands for him—not unless he wanted to get his legs broken.

After much thought, Han Luo decided: he’d rope in the peak masters and make them his errand runners.

With his talent, it would be a waste not to put it to use.

“You really do know how to sweet-talk,” Hongniang smirked. “No wonder Xian’er’s always praising you—she’s completely wrapped around your finger. But listen, if you dare bully her, I won’t forgive you.”

She shook her fist threateningly.

“Heh...” Han Luo gave her a half-smile, not bothering to respond.

A Core Formation cultivator, and she still likes to set traps for people...

“Aunt Hongniang, maybe you should let Uncle Lei Xing in first. Looks like more people are coming,” Han Luo said.

Just as he finished, Yun Ding and Yun Qianli appeared in the mirror.

“No~” Hongniang suddenly acted cute, much to Han Luo’s horror.

It was hard to describe how disturbing it was to see a two- or three-hundred-year-old "old demoness" pretending to be cute. Her skin might still look flawless, but that didn’t change the unsettling feeling—it was like eating chocolate that tasted like crap... or crap that tasted like chocolate. Just awful.

“I finally got all three of them trapped at once. I’m going to have my fun today,” she said, trying to take down all three senior brothers with the formation.

“You’re being naughty again, junior sister,” came a calm voice.

Yun Yangzi had appeared behind them, seated on a stone bench, sipping tea. He casually glanced at Jiutong, who was sprawled on the grass, before continuing his drink.

“Senior brother!”
Hongniang instantly turned meek, stuffing the bronze mirror into Han Luo’s arms like it was all his fault, leaving him facepalming.

Her behavior was hardly befitting of a Core Formation cultivator, let alone the Peak Master of Piaomiao Peak with thousands of disciples under her. She should’ve had some composure.

But Han Luo could understand.

It was like his relationship with Shen Xian’er—careful and proper in front of outsiders, but casual and playful in private.

He activated the bronze mirror and opened a portal in the formation, allowing the three trapped cultivators to arrive at the summit of Luoxian Mountain.

“You’re quick, senior brother,” Lei Xing said as he arrived, clearly aware that Hongniang had been behind the prank from the start.

“Tch.”
Hongniang refused to admit it, turning away to sip her tea.

“Wudao won’t be joining. Let’s get started,” Yun Qianli crossed his arms and frowned at Jiutong lying on the ground.

A damn mutt—six rounds of soul tempering already? That’s better than 99% of the sect. Is there no justice in this world?

“Woof woof!”
The oblivious Jiutong stuck out its big red tongue and gave Yun Qianli a cheerful greeting.

“Han Luo,” Yun Ding said, “you summoned us. What’s this all about?”
Everyone turned to look at him.

Chapter 63

Within the Immortal-Trapping Formation.

In front of Hongniang, several young and handsome men stood poised, their fair features and dashing demeanor making them appear as paragons of elegance. If they had been on Piao Miao Peak, they could’ve easily caused thousands of hearts to flutter—girls screaming themselves hoarse.

But for someone like Hongniang—an old "cured meat" among the sect's elders—such appearances weren't worth a second glance.

"Han Luo, don’t think your martial aunt has a taste for this sort of thing."

Hongniang placed a hand on her forehead in mock distress. Although she was the youngest among her senior brothers, she was still several hundred years old—long past the age of chasing after pretty faces. No matter how charming the façade, only a legendary hero might stir her heart now.

As these thoughts crossed her mind, the illusion shifted.

A stage rose from the earth. Standing atop it was a man with the bearing of a noble immortal—elegant and stately, exuding an aura of divine confidence. He wore a feathered ceremonial crown, a robe of pale golden yellow embroidered with precious patterns, and boots adorned with coiling dragons. A jeweled belt cinched his waist, and he wielded a trident-shaped spear with effortless ease.

The moment she laid eyes on him, Hongniang was briefly stunned by the figure’s commanding presence—eerily reminiscent of a famous general from ancient tales.

But before she could fully react, several trident-shaped blades surged from the ground, hurtling toward her at lightning speed.

Hongniang didn’t miss a beat. Crimson ribbons unfurled around her body, snaring the blades with graceful precision. She hopped onto one of the weapons like a bird in flight, her movements as elegant as they were beautiful.

"You little brat—if you don’t undo this array right now, don’t blame your martial aunt for destroying it. And don’t you dare go crying to your master afterward, saying I bullied you."

She pouted dramatically, knowing full well Han Luo was watching and playing along.

As her voice faded, a winding path opened beneath her feet, the dangers vanished, replaced by blossoming flowers and soft grass. At the end of the trail, Han Luo strolled toward her with a warm smile.

"Martial Aunt Hongniang, my apologies. I was cultivating in seclusion just now and didn’t realize you had arrived. Please forgive me."

He greeted her politely, though inwardly he was reeling. He’d done it on purpose—to use Hongniang as a test subject for his Immortal-Trapping Formation. Though the array was close to the fourth grade in power, it was technically still a third-grade formation—not much of a threat to a Golden Core cultivator like her. Had she used her full strength, she could’ve crushed it instantly.

"You brat—were you trying to get back at me for ‘stealing’ your beloved junior sister? Is that why you had those trident blades full of killing intent aimed at me?"

She narrowed her eyes and jabbed playfully at him, her tone sweet but laced with mock suspicion.

Hongniang was well aware Han Luo had used her to test the formation. If it had been anyone else, she would’ve taught them a lesson. But since it was him, she had her own playful ways of retaliating.

"Martial Aunt Hongniang, how could you say such a thing? I wouldn't dare. Besides, since my junior sister is now your goddaughter, I’m thrilled beyond words. There's no such thing as resentment here. You’ve truly wronged me."

Han Luo kept up his respectful front. He knew that while he might one day surpass her, today was not that day. Until then, it was best to stay humble, maybe tease a little here and there—but never cross the line.

True geniuses rise above. The ones who can't? They’re nothing but forgotten footnotes.

"Giggle~"

Hongniang chuckled, charming and seductive. She slung an arm over his shoulder.

"But just a moment ago, when you activated the formation, you certainly weren’t this humble."

Han Luo quickly withdrew, feigning embarrassment.

"Martial Aunt, please... have some decency. I’m still just a kid."

As a transmigrator, the idea of flirting with someone several centuries old—even if she looked young—felt… unwholesome. Like fondling a piece of century-old cured meat. He had standards.

Hongniang giggled again, clearly enjoying his discomfort.

Yep, I’m consistent—I like them young, clever, and fun.

"You remained calm even within my domain. Impressive temperament. No wonder my precious goddaughter could complete seven rounds of spiritual refinement in such a short time under your guidance."

Han Luo only smiled at the praise.

"You cheeky brat, wasn’t it you who told Xian’er to drop hints to lure me here? Come on, speak up. Whatever your terms are—just say it. Any condition, I’ll agree. Don’t waste this rare chance."

Her expression was playful, teasing.

Since you’re not into the girls of Piao Miao Peak, I guess I’ll have to take matters into my own hands. I’ll endure the teasing from the others—for the sake of ascension, I’ll suffer a little.

Han Luo cleared his throat, trying not to falter.

There was something in her presence—an aura—that constantly assaulted his spirit. Thankfully, the recent mental strengthening from his visualization technique and the support of the Immortal-Trapping Formation and the bronze mirror helped him withstand it.

Golden Core cultivators really were terrifying.

"Martial Aunt Hongniang, let’s speak elsewhere."

He waved a hand, opening a portal to a spot beneath the phoenix tree atop Luoxian Mountain.

"Hm?"

Hongniang noticed the shift in energy as the portal appeared and blinked over in an instant.

As she stood atop Luoxian Mountain, watching white tigers and qilins frolic below, true dragons and phoenixes soaring above, she was visibly stunned. Then she recalled the visions surrounding Shen Xian’er and understood the cause of the scene.

"Senior Brother Yun Yangzi said your talent in formations rivals even the grand elder’s. I didn’t believe it until now. You’ve merged a vision phenomenon with the Immortal-Trapping Formation—brilliant, truly brilliant."

She stretched her long legs and settled onto the grass, basking in the sun and breeze. To her surprise, some of her long-stagnant cultivation bottlenecks began to loosen.

"Woof!"

A big yellow dog wagged its head as it rubbed affectionately against Han Luo’s leg.

"A six-time refined spirit beast?"

Hongniang raised a brow in amazement.

"Come here."

She beckoned, and Jiutong obediently trotted over, nestling at her feet for pets.

"A mutt with less than ten years of natural life, yet you’ve raised it into a powerful spirit beast and even pushed it through six refinements. What’s the matter, showing off now?"

Han Luo flushed. He’d been caught.

He sighed. Yep. You really have to tread carefully around these old-timers—one slip, and you’re exposed.

"My apologies for the showboating, Martial Aunt."

"We’ll settle that later. For now, speak—why did you call me here?"

This was tactfully said.

Though she had intended to ask how Shen Xian’er achieved such rapid refinement, this way she retained the upper hand. If negotiations were to happen later, she had the leverage.

"No rush, Martial Aunt. Why not enjoy some coffee I brewed myself while we wait for the others?"

He handed her a cup.

She took a sip and lit up.

"You always bring out such fascinating things—I like it. Give me more."

She didn't bother with courtesy, and Han Luo happily obliged. Just as they chatted, a ripple echoed through the Immortal-Trapping Formation—another visitor had arrived.

Chapter 62

Inside Hongniang’s secluded chamber, the atmosphere was filled with quiet delight.

“Master, junior sister Xian’er managed to complete five rounds of spirit tempering in such a short span of time. Her talent is truly astonishing.” Chixiao’s eyes sparkled with joy as she spoke, visibly proud of Xian’er. To her, Xian’er had always been a little sister in need of protection, and nothing was more gratifying than seeing her flourish.

“Five rounds of spirit tempering, huh?” Hongniang smiled, her gaze flicking between her most favored disciple and the chubby little girl happily munching on a lollipop.

“Sweetheart,” she asked, rubbing Xian’er’s soft, round cheeks, “tell your senior sister how many rounds of tempering you’ve completed.”

“Uh…” Xian’er pulled the slobbery lollipop out of her mouth and started counting with her fingers. “Senior sister Chixiao, actually I’ve done one, two… four, six, seven!” She held up five fingers on one hand and two toes from her bare foot, all the while keeping her other hand occupied with the lollipop.

She didn’t seem to think much of it. In her mind, seven rounds of spirit tempering were no big deal. Senior brother had said it was super easy, after all.

But her innocent announcement stunned Chixiao and Lulong into complete silence. The expressions on their faces were so dramatic, they looked like toddlers doodling with crayons—messy but intense.

“Wha—what… How is that even possible?” Chixiao was utterly baffled. Just a few days ago, Xian’er hadn’t started tempering at all. Now she’d completed seven rounds? That was insane.

Lulong was equally dumbfounded, staring at the food-obsessed little girl as if trying to reconcile her sweet demeanor with the monstrous talent she had just revealed.

“Senior sisters, you don’t believe me? Look, I’ll show you!” Xian’er declared proudly, as if showing off a prized treasure.

She activated her spirit energy and displayed her phenomenon—flying beasts, serene energy, life blooming around her. Due to her wood-element spiritual root, the entire chamber responded: new buds emerged from dead branches, and wild grass sprouted from cracks in the floor. Though the effect wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been on Luoxian Mountain, it was more than enough to shock the three women present.

Even Hongniang, who had herself completed seven rounds of spirit tempering, couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion. The aura around her goddaughter’s spirit energy was even purer than her own.

“Xian’er, you’ve only been back for about twenty days. How did you manage to complete seven rounds in that time?” Lulong scratched her head, bewildered.

According to ancient texts, tempering had to be gradual and methodical. Even with a rare seventh-grade spiritual root, which Xian’er possessed, such rapid progress was unprecedented. Forcibly rushing it would normally lead to diminished results—or worse, physical harm.

But what Xian’er had shown defied those concerns. Not only was her spirit energy incredibly pure, it had also triggered divine phenomena: wildlife, flourishing nature… the works.

Hongniang joined the questioning with a warm smile. “Xian’er, tell godmother—how did you do it? Your spirit energy is even more refined than mine.”

As the three women stared at her expectantly, Xian’er remembered what her senior brother had told her.

“Oh! That was all thanks to my master!” she declared with perfect composure, not a trace of nervousness. Her voice was crisp and cheerful, making her lie sound downright professional.

Lulong nodded with admiration. “No wonder! Uncle Wudao truly is remarkable, to have developed such incredible techniques.”

Uncle Wudao’s reputation was rather unique. He hadn’t grown up within Luoxian Sect like the other elders; he’d joined midway through. But despite that, his contributions had been nothing short of monumental—helping the sect master Yun Wanli construct the great protective array around the sect, establishing the Formation Hall in the library, and inventing numerous helpful tools that benefited countless disciples.

And now, he had supposedly helped Xian’er complete seven rounds of spirit tempering in just twenty days. It was impressive—but given Wudao’s resume, not entirely impossible.

“So it was Wudao…” Hongniang murmured thoughtfully, watching her little goddaughter happily lick her lollipop.

“Chixiao,” she said suddenly.

“Yes, Master?” Chixiao responded at once.

“Spread the word. Let everyone know that Xian’er has completed seven rounds of spirit tempering. After all, she’s my goddaughter. Such a joyous occasion must be shared with the whole sect.”

Hongniang beamed. She loved Xian’er to bits. Even if that rascal Han Luo remained as uncooperative as ever, at least Luoxian Sect had Xian’er, a once-in-a-lifetime prodigy.

If she could latch onto Xian’er’s golden thigh, she’d still have a good shot at ascending to the Immortal Realm.

“Understood, Master.”Chixiao and Lulong took their leave. Meanwhile, Hongniang personally presented the desserts she had prepared to Xian’er.

“Wow! Godmother, this su-style cake is soooo good! Maybe even better than what senior brother makes!” Xian’er was all smiles, nibbling away in bliss.

“Why don’t you tell godmother a little more about your senior brother?” Hongniang asked gently, probing with interest.

She hadn’t given up on her plan to recruit Han Luo as a son-in-law. The more powerful one became, the more they realized how insignificant they were in the grand scheme of cultivation. She had reached her limits in this lifetime—forming a golden core was already a blessing. But ascending any further would be nearly impossible by conventional means.

Which was why she needed a new path.

And that path lay with Han Luo and Xian’er.

The days of meditating in caves like the ancients were long gone. Back then, rich spiritual energy made that method effective and safe. But now? With spiritual energy thinned and polluted, going into seclusion for long periods was more likely to be a death sentence.

“Okay, godmother! Let me tell you all about him…” Xian’er said cheerfully, stuffing her face with cake as she launched into a full report on her senior brother—without pausing even for punctuation.

Hongniang’s smile grew more radiant the more she listened.

Meanwhile…

When Chixiao and Lulong spread the news of Xian’er’s seven-time spirit tempering, the entire Luoxian Sect exploded.

“No way!” exclaimed Li Jun, who had just completed his third tempering and considered himself among the sect’s elite. He had always seen Chixiao as his only rival. But now, hearing that someone had already completed seven rounds made him feel crushed—like all his hard-earned confidence was being rolled into the dirt and stomped on until it bled.

“Seven times…” On Qianren Peak’s martial field, Wu Dao wiped sweat from his brow after finishing a brutal training set.

“I wonder how seven rounds of spirit tempering compare to five rounds of body tempering like mine,” he mused aloud. Then he crushed a first-grade cold iron blade into a ball and hurled it like a cannonball.

Boom!

The earth cracked where it landed, leaving a gaping pit. The watching cultivators stared at Wu Dao like he was some kind of monster.

Luoxian Sect had been peaceful for a while—but now, it was truly boiling.

And the shock wasn’t limited to the disciples. Several peak lords and even Sect Master Yun Yangzi were stunned and immediately made their way to Dao Peak to question Wudao himself.

Only Hongniang made her way alone to Luoxian Mountain.

That is… until she stepped into the mountain and was immediately trapped inside the Confounding Formation. Inside the illusionary maze, Hongniang looked at the shifting projections with a speechless expression.

Chapter 61

"Xian’er, how’s your control over your strength recently?" Han Luo asked with concern.

Shen Xian’er wiped the sweat from her forehead. "Senior brother, I’ve fully mastered my strength now. Can I go out and play?"

She clenched her fists, backpack strapped on, ready to go.

"Alright, show me a demonstration."

"Got it!"

Shen Xian’er rolled up her sleeves and walked to the edge of Luoxian Lake. Without circulating any spiritual power, she punched out fiercely while shouting out the name of her move.

“Take this—Steamed Lamb, Steamed Bear Paw, Steamed Deer Tail, Roasted Duck, Roasted Chick, Roasted Goose…”

As her fists flew out, images of these dishes burst from her hands like explosive bombs, hammering the lake’s surface with one explosion after another.

The move’s power was impressive—well-controlled and balanced in offense and defense. But that name… wasn’t that a recipe?

"Xian’er, where did you come up with the name for this technique?"

"From the menu!"

She pulled out a crumpled menu from her pocket. "Senior brother, I copied this from your menu. Just saying it makes me hungry! Can we eat these today?"

She couldn’t go three sentences without bringing up food—even her martial techniques were named after dishes, fully exposing her foodie nature.

Han Luo wiped his forehead. Thank goodness he never let her into the Mirror Realm, or she’d probably come up with technique names like Tomato Smash, Eggplant Bomb, or Cucumber Spiral...

"Alright, alright, I’ve already prepared lunch. After we eat, you can go out and play."

"Yay!" Shen Xian’er leaped with joy.

Even though Luoxian Mountain now had plenty of little animals to play with, it wasn’t enough for her. She wanted to visit her beloved Xiao-jie.

Her senior brother was way too uptight—he never wanted to play games with her.

The senior sisters on Piao Miao Peak were way more fun. They always told her strange, interesting stories. Meanwhile, her senior brother always buried himself in arrays like he had a wife hidden in them.

After the two had lunch, Shen Xian’er prepared to run off.

"Xian’er."

Han Luo stopped her.

"You promised I could go out and play!" she said cautiously, worried he’d go back on his word.

"Relax. When have I ever broken a promise?" Han Luo said gently. "I just want to remind you of something."

"Okay, I’m listening."

"Now that you’ve completed seven rounds of spirit tempering, no one else in the younger generation of Luoxian Sect has reached your level. The bigger the tree, the more it catches the wind. If anyone asks who helped you temper your spirit, remember—don’t say it was me. Say it was our master. Understand?"

Once she stepped outside, it would shake the whole sect.

According to his intel, the most spirit tempering anyone had achieved among the younger generation was three rounds—Li Jun and Chi Xiao being the top.

If someone suddenly appeared with seven rounds, it would definitely cause a stir. If Xian’er let slip that it was Han Luo who helped her, he’d be in serious trouble.

"Xian’er, you know what to say, right?" he reminded again.

Shen Xian’er nodded quickly. "I swear, if anyone asks who helped me, I absolutely won’t say it was senior brother. If I do, may I never eat delicious food again!"

Good, good. She was already in the habit of swearing oaths often. That made him proud.

"Go on now," Han Luo waved her off.

Shen Xian’er skipped away gleefully, while Han Luo pulled out his recent notes to review them again—just in case he’d missed anything.

Elsewhere...

Shen Xian’er soon arrived at Piao Miao Peak.

It had been a while since her last visit, and the moment she showed up, the whole mountain seemed to stir.

"Xian’er is here!"

A senior sister who adored her rushed up and planted a big kiss on her cheek.

"My turn! My turn!"

Another sister couldn’t hold back and lined up, eager to kiss her on the other cheek.

"Ahem... don’t you all have cultivation to do?"

A sharp voice cut through the air like an explosion.

Chi Xiao walked over clad in her red lotus battle armor, exuding the aura of a female war god.

Immediately, the crowd parted, clearing a path. Among them were several Foundation Establishment-level sisters.

Chi Xiao’s reputation on Piao Miao Peak was second only to senior sister Ye Qingqing. But since Ye Qingqing was soon to leave for the Golden Battlefield, Chi Xiao was clearly poised to become the next leader of the peak.

"Xiao-jie!" Shen Xian’er squealed sweetly and ran into her arms, rubbing her face against Chi Xiao to show how much she’d missed her.

"You little brat, I thought you forgot about Piao Miao Peak. So? What have you been up to..."

Before she could finish, Chi Xiao froze, staring at Shen Xian’er like she’d seen a ghost.

"Xian’er, how many times have you tempered your spirit?"

She’d long expected to be surpassed by Shen Xian’er, but not this fast.

"Probably four times?" said Lu Long softly beside her.

Chi Xiao’s talent was undisputed—six-grade spirit root, firmly among the sect’s elite.

She herself had completed three rounds of spirit tempering.

Xian’er’s spirit root was a grade above hers. Logically, four rounds would make sense.

"For real? Our Xian’er has tempered four times already? Amazing!"

"Of course! Xian’er’s the most gifted disciple in Luoxian Sect. I wouldn’t be surprised if she hit five rounds!"

"Unbelievable. You little sneak, running off to do spirit tempering without telling us!"

If it had been someone else, this group of senior sisters might have reacted with jealousy or bitterness.

But Shen Xian’er? She was just too lovable. Especially today—she radiated such adorable charm that they were drawn to her like bees to honey.

"No."

Chi Xiao’s voice suddenly turned solemn.

"What do you mean ‘no’?" Lu Long looked at her in confusion.

Chi Xiao rarely used that intense tone with Xian’er—unless something had seriously shocked her.

"It’s not four rounds. It’s five."

The moment she said it, the noisy crowd fell silent.

Everyone stared at Shen Xian’er in stunned silence. She was still adorable, but now there was something more—something that left them speechless.

Then the chaos returned—except ten times louder.

Like a flock of gossiping sparrows, the senior sisters swarmed her with questions and praise.

Trapped in the middle, Shen Xian’er looked overwhelmed.

Why did everyone get so worked up when Xiao-jie said she had five rounds?

If they reacted like this to five… what would happen if she said it was actually seven?

Maybe… she should keep quiet.

"Silence!" Chi Xiao shouted, her voice erupting like a volcano. Everyone fell still.

"You’re all cultivators. What kind of behavior is this?"

No one dared argue. A few sisters had tried to defy Chi Xiao before—and paid dearly.

"Chi Xiao, bring Xian’er to my meditation chamber."

Hong Niang’s voice echoed from the sky. Though she wasn’t physically present, her voice alone was enough to make everyone kneel in reverence.

"Xian’er, let’s go see your godmother," Chi Xiao said.

She and Lu Long took Shen Xian’er away, while the rest of the sisters immediately launched into heated discussions.

Within half an hour, the news spread across the entire Luoxian Sect like wildfire.

Chapter 60

“This is so fun!”

With a giant pork knuckle in her arms, Shen Xian’er ran gleefully through a field of colorful butterflies, giggling as a group of clumsy little white tigers followed her around like fluffy ducklings.

Han Luo stood nearby when Xiaobai—stunned—finally blurted out, “How… how are you doing this?!”

She stared in disbelief at the scene unfolding before her. With just a wave of his hand, Han Luo had altered the very world around them—something only legendary immortals were said to be capable of. Yet he wasn’t even in the Foundation Establishment stage!

Han Luo put his hands behind his back, tilted his chin up at a 45-degree angle, and said with all the seriousness of a child caught red-handed, “I’m actually the reincarnation of an Immortal Emperor. This kind of trick? Mere parlor magic.”

Xiaobai froze.

For just a split second, she almost believed him.

“Wait—no! I get it now!” she exclaimed. “You’re using the insights you gained from that vision—those phenomena—and merging them into your Trapped Immortal Array. That’s how you’re projecting everything we’re seeing now!”

Han Luo nodded in approval. “Smart girl. Not bad.”

Xiaobai’s theory was spot on.

What she didn’t know was that he had also used the power of the Ancient Bronze Mirror to embed the essence of the phenomena into the array. Everything they were seeing—the phoenixes, tigers, dragons, and beasts—was technically an illusion… yet not entirely fake.

The forms were hollow, but each illusion carried a hint of genuine divinity. Maybe, after a few thousand eras, if the Trapped Immortal Array were to somehow survive, those illusions might one day become real.

Of course, by then, Han Luo would likely have turned to dust in some forgotten corner of the world.

Still, for now, these projections were enough to enhance the power of the Trapped Immortal Array. With the phenomena integrated, it now rivaled the strength of a fourth-grade formation.

“Incredible… truly incredible,” Xiaobai murmured, shaking her head in disbelief.

From the side, Peak Master Wudao suddenly laughed—an uncharacteristically loud and hearty laugh. “Fascinating… truly fascinating!”

With that, he turned and left, his robe fluttering behind him.

“Senior Brother,” Shen Xian’er called out as she ran over, sucking on a lollipop. “Why is Master laughing like that? Did someone steal his candy?”

Han Luo chuckled. “Who would dare?”

“Yeah!” she huffed, waving her chubby little fist. “If anyone dares to take Master’s candy, I’ll beat them to a pulp!”

BOOM! BOOM!

A hundred meters away, an ancient tree exploded into splinters.

“Ah!”

Shen Xian’er stared at her own hands, wide-eyed. She hadn't expected herself to be that strong.

“Let’s stay put on Luoxian Mountain for now,” Han Luo quickly said. “No leaving until you’ve learned to fully control your strength. I don’t want you accidentally turning someone’s senior brother or sister into a pile of mush.”

“Okay, Senior Brother… but uh, when’s dinner?” she asked, still licking her lollipop like nothing had happened. “I’m starving!”

Han Luo sighed helplessly.

Even now, after completing all seven rounds of spirit cleansing and surpassing most Foundation Establishment cultivators, Shen Xian’er was still a diehard foodie.

But her success wasn’t just a personal milestone—it was a major breakthrough for Han Luo.

First, her case gave him firsthand data and experience to prepare for his own future spirit cleansing.

Second, it confirmed that his Spirit-Cleansing Array worked flawlessly without any negative side effects—meaning it was viable for others too.

But he wasn’t in a rush to use it on himself.

Inventions had to be tested multiple times in varied conditions. True excellence required repeated trials, meticulous notes, and ongoing refinement.

And for his next test subject, he chose the most loyal companion he had—none other than Jiutong.

Of all the creatures in the world, Jiutong was the one Han Luo trusted most.

Why?

Because they’d long since formed a soul contract.

Just like Shen Xian’er and Xiaobai, Jiutong was bound to Han Luo’s will—incapable of defiance.

“Jiutong, your turn.”

Han Luo fed him a perfect-grade Spirit-Cleansing Pill, then pointed toward the twelve-petaled lotus. “Get up there and start refining.”

Jiutong practiced the same Falling Immortal Art, so the process was streamlined.

As the lotus began to rotate, Jiutong sat in place and entered cultivation. Four hours later, the pink lotus shifted into an earthy yellow hue, indicating his affinity for the earth element.

Due to his lower talent, Jiutong took significantly longer than Shen Xian’er, but Han Luo wasn’t surprised. He made a note of it in his journal and began pondering further optimizations for the array.

The next day, they moved on to Jiutong’s second round of cleansing.

It was quickly becoming apparent how important talent was in this process.

While Shen Xian’er had completed seven rounds effortlessly thanks to her seven-elemental spiritual root—one of the rarest in existence—Jiutong struggled.

In fact, saying Jiutong had poor talent was an understatement.

His aptitude was so bad, it was laughable.

But that didn’t matter.

Because Han Luo had long since anticipated this and raised Jiutong with the care of a celestial emperor raising a divine beast.

He’d used high-grade spiritual gathering arrays to nourish Jiutong’s body. Even his food contained rare substances meant to slowly modify and enhance his physical foundation.

And Jiutong had never disappointed.

From a scrawny mongrel, he’d grown into a formidable spirit beast. Despite his dopey expression, even someone like Chi Xiao might struggle to defeat him now.

After all, Jiutong was the only one who had survived three consecutive attacks from Han Luo himself.

Still, despite the praise, Jiutong did run into serious difficulty during his sixth spirit cleansing.

His innate limitations created immense resistance—but he powered through using sheer willpower.

Watching him grit his way through, Shen Xian’er was so moved she cried, swearing to share her most beloved dishes with Jiutong.

Only Xiaobai didn’t seem touched. She glared at Jiutong like he was her mortal enemy.

Jiutong, unfazed, waddled closer with his tongue lolling out and his goofy grin, wagging his tail like the big, dumb sweetheart he was.

“Get away from me, you mutt!” Xiaobai hissed, unsheathing her claws in warning.

“Woof!” Jiutong barked happily, leaning even closer.

“You’re stepping on my tail—ugh, so annoying!” she snapped, shuffling away.

“Woof woof!”

Jiutong scooted even closer, grinning like the world’s happiest idiot.

“You’re just like your stupid master…” Xiaobai grumbled, utterly fed up.

Meanwhile, Han Luo had no choice but to pause Jiutong’s cleansing for now.

He knelt down, rubbing the loyal mutt’s head gently.

Jiutong didn’t say anything, but Han Luo could feel it—he wanted to grow stronger. That desire came from the soul itself, and it couldn’t be faked.

“Don’t worry, Jiutong. With me here, you’ll finish all seven rounds. You just need a little more time.”

Han Luo stroked his chin thoughtfully, then turned his gaze toward Shen Xian’er.

A mischievous glint sparkled in his eyes, and the corners of his lips curled upward with sinister intent.

Clearly, he had another ‘experiment’ in mind.

Chapter 59

Green light flickered as the twelve-petaled pink lotus slowly came to a stop. Shen Xian’er opened her eyes, and in that moment, radiant light burst from her body, casting divine brilliance all around.

“How do you feel?” Han Luo asked as he stepped forward.

“Senior Brother, my body feels so light… like I could fly,” she replied, her voice filled with wonder. As if echoing her words, her body gently floated upward, her silhouette taking on an almost celestial quality.

Just then—

Whoosh! A figure appeared without warning.

Peak Master Wudao raised a hand and released a strand of white light, stabilizing Shen Xian’er midair. “Circulate the Falling Immortal Art and solidify your current state,” he instructed calmly.

Following his teacher’s guidance, Shen Xian’er immediately entered a meditative state and began to regulate her qi.

“Master!” Han Luo greeted respectfully, understanding why his teacher had appeared so suddenly.

After completing seven rounds of spirit cleansing in such a short time, Shen Xian’er’s body had clearly been pushed to its limits. If her cultivation wasn’t stabilized immediately, her qi might spiral out of control, damaging her heart vessels—something even life-threatening in extreme cases.

“You invented this array?” Wudao asked, his voice tinged with rare emotion as his gaze settled on the Spirit-Cleansing Array.

“Yes, Master. The Spirit-Cleansing Array is my invention,” Han Luo answered truthfully.

He had nothing to hide from Wudao. In Han Luo’s eyes, his master had always been a hidden expert who kept a low profile.

“Hmm.”

Wudao extended his hand and sent a thread of spiritual power into the array disc, carefully examining it. As he did, a storm surged within his heart.

This disciple... truly astonishing.

Inside this Spirit-Cleansing Array, he sensed traces of both the Nine Laws of Formations and the True Nine Li Techniques. Even more shockingly, upon deeper analysis, he actually experienced some improvement in his own understanding of formations—something that hadn’t happened in years.

This was no ordinary creation.

He had once helped his senior brother construct the Falling Immortal Grand Array, a seventh-grade formation… and yet this Spirit-Cleansing Array stirred his heart more than that.

Wudao began to reassess his disciple.

He had initially believed Han Luo's peerless talent lay in cultivation alone. But now it was clear—the boy excelled not just in cultivation, but also in formations and alchemy. If he were to delve into talismans, puppetry, magical tools... Han Luo would likely be equally gifted.

Could it be… that Han Luo was the legendary variable destined to emerge during the millennium tribulation?

The possibility left Wudao deep in thought.

Meanwhile, Shen Xian’er slowly opened her eyes, having stabilized her cultivation. Her entire aura had undergone a dramatic transformation.

The once lively and adorable little girl now radiated an ethereal glow. Without releasing even a trace of spiritual energy, a soft green light circled her body like a divine halo.

“Xian’er, activate your qi. Let me take a look,” Han Luo instructed.

“Okay!”

As she activated her inner energy, she seemed to transform into a celestial maiden descending from the heavens. The flowers around her bloomed. Grass danced in delight. Even the wind slowed down, playfully circling her.

From above, flocks of birds gathered as if summoned.

One bird was entirely crimson, like a ruby come to life. Its feathers were flawless, glistening in the sun—eerily reminiscent of the mythical Vermilion Bird. Another, wreathed in flames, had nine heads, exuding a powerful divine presence.

Even more appeared—creatures resembling celestial cranes, blue phoenixes, golden-winged eagles, and other legendary beasts. On the ancient parasol tree, a multicolored divine bird stood, cloaked in soft chaos light, its appearance barely discernible but clearly sacred.

On the ground, mystical beasts pranced and played. A snow-white tiger with wings, a scaled creature with the aura of a qilin, a snake-like being with horns and five-clawed limbs coiled behind Xian’er—every one of them exuding a mythical presence.

Phoenixes soared. Dragons swam in the lake. Sacred beasts danced.
It was a divine spectacle that echoed scenes from immortal ascension.

But then... the whole tone changed.

Floating around Shen Xian’er, in the midst of this holy vision—were dishes.

Yes, dishes.

Plates of soy-braised pig trotters, spicy tofu, red-braised pork ribs… all manifested from thin air and began orbiting her like stars around a moon.

“Ahahaha!”

Shen Xian’er burst out laughing, the sound like bells. In a flash, the celestial maiden turned into an excited foodie. Her chubby hands swept through the air, gathering every dish into her enchanted bowl-and-chopsticks set and digging in with wild glee.

It was an anomaly.

Xiaobai rubbed her eyes, stunned.

According to ancient texts, during the great spirit-cleansing events of the past, cultivators occasionally triggered blessings from the heavens—known as “phenomena.”

And such phenomena were a sign of divine favor. Those who bore them were said to be destined for immortality.

What Shen Xian’er was experiencing perfectly matched those ancient descriptions. The sudden appearance of mythical beasts, the aura of peace and sanctity—it was all there.

But the food? That was new.

“Han Luo, are you seeing this?” Xiaobai called out, eyes wide with awe.

But no response came.

She turned—and found Han Luo scribbling in his notebook, not even looking at the phenomenon.

“Han Luo! What are you doing?! This is a once-in-a-million-years spirit-cleansing phenomenon! You could gain untold insights just by watching it!”

Xiaobai shouted in disbelief.

Then a terrifying thought struck her, and she slowly turned toward him again.

“Wait… don’t tell me you already figured something out…”

The idea horrified her.

It was one thing to be outshone by Shen Xian’er—her origins were cosmic in scale, and very few across history could compare. But to be outdone by Han Luo?

He was just a crafty little guy with a clever brain and average talent! Or so she thought.

But now… one after another, he’d created the Trapped Immortal Array, the Perfect Spirit-Cleansing Pill, the Spirit-Cleansing Array—each one more groundbreaking than the last.

How could someone with seemingly ordinary talent be capable of this? Even Li Jun seemed inferior in comparison!

Was she… completely wrong about him?

Han Luo looked up, calm as ever. “What are you staring at me for? I don’t have any phenomena on my face. Focus while you still can—those visions won’t last long.”

His tone was casual, but Xiaobai heard the deeper meaning.

This man… was not as simple as he looked.

Under his reminder, she hurriedly turned back and caught the tail end of the phenomenon, managing to glean a few valuable insights before it faded away.

“Eh? Where’d it go?” Shen Xian’er blinked in confusion.

The divine visions had vanished mid-meal—how frustrating! She was just getting into it!

“Senior Brother, what were those things? Can you bring them back again? They were delicious!”

Han Luo chuckled.

“Silly girl, those were spirit-cleansing phenomena. You don’t just summon them at will. But… since you have me as your senior brother…”

As he spoke, he raised a hand.

Spiritual energy gathered in his palm, and the next moment—boom—the very same divine visions manifested again around him.

“Go!” he commanded.

Instantly, the vermilion bird expanded into a creature the size of a car, trailing flames as it flew. White cranes glided through the clouds. On the parasol tree, the seven-colored phoenix shimmered, its calm presence blanketing the mountain in peace.

Below, sacred beasts played: tigers with wings, scaled qilins, dancing apes, and serpents like miniature dragons. A colossal dragon plunged into the lake, its body thick as a train.

And of course…

A wave of steaming dishes appeared once more, hovering beside Shen Xian’er. She squealed with delight, gobbling them down as she praised her senior brother with childlike joy.

In that moment—

The once quiet and lonely Luoxian Mountain became vibrant and alive, filled with the energy of mythical beasts, divine light, and the laughter of a gluttonous little girl.

For a brief time, it truly felt like a land of immortals—hidden in the mortal world, yet full of mystery and wonder.

Chapter 58

“Crap!”

Han Luo didn’t even have time to react.

In the blink of an eye, six layers of multicolored protective shields lit up on his body. The fierce energy that had just surged like a dragon breaking through the heavens instantly turned into a harmless ripple the moment it touched his defenses, dispersing quietly into the air.

“Senior Brother, are you okay?!”

Shen Xian’er panicked. She had gotten so excited, she completely forgot her own strength had surpassed her senior brother’s. One careless move might’ve accidentally killed him—and if he died, she’d be devastated for life. After all… who else would cook her instant noodles, roasted pig trotters, braised pork, and a mountain of other delicacies? A life without good food? Unthinkable.

Han Luo saw her flustered expression and instantly understood—this was unintentional.

“It’s fine, I’m totally fine. See?” he said, giving her a classic head pat to reassure her. “You can’t hurt me.”

Good thing he didn’t know that, in Shen Xian’er’s heart, he was basically just a chef-slash-tool, and not much more.

“Really? You're not hurt, are you?” she asked cautiously.

Hearing that he was okay, she let out a sigh of relief. Her food dreams were safe.

“Don’t worry, Senior Brother. I’m super powerful now! If anyone dares to bully you, I’ll protect you!” she declared solemnly, determined to become strong enough to guard him and ensure he cooked her gourmet meals forever.

Han Luo was visibly moved. The little girl’s all grown up… wanting to protect her senior brother now. How touching.

That said, it was terrifying how much talent she had—just that one accidental punch had activated six of his seventy-two protective talismans. Truly impressive.

“Senior Brother, let’s eat. I’m hungry again!”

Her mood swings were lightning-fast, but fortunately, Han Luo’s pace of thought could keep up.

“Fine, let’s eat.”

Braised eggplant and steamed rice—an unbeatable combination for Shen Xian’er. She gobbled it all down like a storm, moaning with satisfaction. “Senior Brother, you’re amazing!”

After they ate, Han Luo didn’t send her off to rest. “Let’s do another round of spirit cleansing.”

During their meal, he had quietly observed her state and confirmed that the cleansing formation had no adverse effects. On the contrary, completing the entire process in one go seemed to enhance her temperament—making her aura more ethereal, her gaze more luminous.

It was subtle—like a speck of dust—but Han Luo’s enchanted glasses caught the difference. If his hypothesis was correct, completing all seven spirit cleansings using his array might yield extraordinary results.

“Okay, okay!” Shen Xian’er nodded enthusiastically, eager for more.

He handed her another perfect-grade Spirit-Cleansing Pill, and just like before, she entered the formation to begin refining.

“Kid, are you sure this invention of yours is safe?” Xiaobai, sitting nearby, frowned as she stared at Shen Xian’er glowing atop the pink lotus.

“Why? Do you see a problem?”

Han Luo was always willing to listen to Xiaobai—he knew the little cat wasn’t ordinary. She knew many things he didn’t and simply chose not to speak of them due to pride.

Xiaobai, seeing him so humble, curled up more comfortably and began explaining.

“From ancient times till now, spirit cleansing has always been regarded as one of the most critical parts of cultivation. It wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say it accounts for at least 20% of your path to becoming a true immortal. Do you know what 20% means, Han Luo? It means that just from mastering spirit cleansing, some people can ascend to the Immortal Realm.”

Han Luo fell silent, deeply contemplating her words.

Xiaobai continued, her expression solemn. “The world of cultivation has its own laws. Just because something can be changed doesn’t mean it should be changed. Over countless millennia, generations of cultivators—some with freakish talent—have followed the same ancient methods. These methods are battle-tested, proven by time. How can you casually discard them for a flashy new technique?”

She had a point.
Spirit cleansing was foundational. If not for generations of cultivators confirming these methods’ safety and effectiveness, no one would dare experiment so freely.

“So, you think my method doesn’t work?”

Han Luo had considered this question before. That’s why he hadn’t tested it on himself but used Shen Xian’er as a guinea pig.
After all, if he ascended, he’d bring her with him. And she wasn’t particularly obsessed with ascending anyway—as long as there was good food, she was content.

“I’m not saying it doesn’t work,” Xiaobai replied coolly. “I’m saying that many have tried similar things before. All of them failed.”

She was worried. Shen Xian’er had gone through a lot—things others didn’t know but she did. Xiaobai only wanted her to be happy. As long as she stayed with Han Luo, she was content. Otherwise, she would’ve clawed that boy’s smug face to ribbons long ago.

“Don’t worry. I trust my formation skills.”

Han Luo’s confidence wasn’t baseless. He had managed to perfectly fuse Nine Laws of Formation with the True Nine Li Arts. According to Li’er’s ancestral grandmother, anyone who achieved such a fusion could wield a power capable of rewriting the very fabric of cultivation itself.

And in all the eons, no one had ever succeeded—until him.

“Where does your confidence even come from...?” Xiaobai muttered.

But truth be told, Han Luo had proven himself time and again. He might be weird, but when it counted, he was reliable.

“Look, you’re not wrong,” Han Luo explained patiently. “But how many people in this era complete all seven spirit cleansings? How many ascend to immortality? In ancient times, the spiritual energy was purer. Reaching perfection in cleansing was easier. That’s why more people ascended. But now, the world’s resources are scarce, and the spiritual energy is messy. Following the old ways in today’s conditions doesn’t yield the same results. As the saying goes—‘when trapped, adapt; when you adapt, you survive; when you survive long enough, you thrive.’ You of all people should understand that.”

He rarely talked this much.
But for Xiaobai, it was worth making the effort.

She fell into a long silence.

Eventually, she shook her head. She couldn’t quite bring herself to believe him. Sometimes a too-rigid Dao heart can become a shackle rather than a guide.

“Trust me. Shen Xian’er is my little sister—my family. I’d never do anything to harm her.”

Han Luo reached out to give Xiaobai a comforting pat, but her icy glare—Touch me and die—made him rethink it.

Her strength had grown lately, and she’d probably awakened a few divine abilities. It was better not to push his luck.

Thanks to Xiaobai’s reminder, he paid extra attention to Shen Xian’er’s condition.

Two hours later.

The pink lotus turned green—her third spirit cleansing was complete.

As before, she came out glowing with new power, happily chattering about how she felt. Han Luo noted everything down in his little black book.

After a day of analysis, he initiated her fourth cleansing.

And so it continued…

A week passed.

Han Luo stood in front of the formation, tense.
This was Shen Xian’er’s seventh spirit cleansing.

Beside him, Xiaobai was equally serious.

Over the past three days, her worldview had been thoroughly shattered.

After probing Shen Xian’er’s strength, she discovered—to her utter disbelief—that the little girl’s power was at least ten times that of someone who had followed traditional methods and completed six cleansings.

Ten times!

It was insane. Unreal. Utterly contradictory to everything she knew.

Had Han Luo been right all along?
When trapped, adapt. When you adapt, you survive. When you survive long enough, you thrive...

Xiaobai couldn’t help but glance at Han Luo, who stood focused and serious.

Her feline intuition sparked.

The world of cultivation is on the cusp of a storm, she thought. And the butterfly flapping its wings to start it... is right here in front of me.