A stick of brown incense burned quietly, its thin wisps of smoke curling upward, soothing the mind with an air of calm.


    Lu Qingmo sat in her chair, gazing at the flickering flame, silent and still.


    “I’ve already sent the Ghost God Division to investigate that village supposedly attacked by the rogue cultivator,” she said after a moment. “Zuo Tianzheng will deliver the related evidence to them soon as well. I’ll get to the bottom of this. But…” She paused, her tone shifting. “As you pointed out, whoever’s behind this dared to act so boldly—they’ve likely planned every detail meticulously. Finding a flaw in their scheme won’t be easy.”


    “I get it,” Han nodded. “Aunt Mo, don’t stress too much. No matter who’s behind it or which faction wants me and Senior Sister dead, they lost this round. They’re the ones who took a hit—losing a Manifest Saint cultivator. Senior Sister’s unscathed, and I only got a few scratches. No real damage done. Even if we can’t pin down the mastermind yet, we’re not the ones who should be crying over it.”


    Han’s logic was airtight. By any measure, they’d come out on top. Not nailing the culprit right away didn’t diminish their victory.


    “Hand me the Imprinting Mirror,” Lu Qingmo said.


    Han complied. The mirror needed a fresh imprint of a Taoist art to be usable again.


    “You managed to take down a Manifest Saint this time, and that dragon scale played a huge role,” she continued. “Don’t forget what the Dragon Girl did for you.”


    “Don’t worry, she and I are buddies now,” Han grinned.


    Lu Qingmo pulled out four objects and handed them to him. “These are the two materials that Manifest Saint used to fend off the Heavenly Thunder Seal.”


    Why four pieces? Simple—they’d been shattered by the thunder’s force.


    “These aren’t ordinary materials,” she explained. “They’re good enough to serve as secondary components for crafting a Yin God artifact. If I’m not mistaken, they’re Earth Divine Stone and Celestial Dawn Gold—both godly materials. When you reach the Yin God stage and forge your natal artifact, these could come in handy.”


    “Godly materials?” Han’s eyes lit up. Just hearing the names and their rank made his natal artifact practically salivate. With these two alone, he’d already struck gold this time. If every assassination attempt came with rewards like this, Han would’ve half-joked, Bring it on.


    Taking the materials, he frowned slightly. “They… feel like pure essence?”


    Lu Qingmo nodded. “Exactly. Godly materials are of such high quality that they’re almost entirely essence—very little waste. After being hammered by the thunder’s power, what’s left is the purest core.”


    Fire refines materials, sure, but thunder does it better—and Han was reaping the benefits. He beamed. No need to refine them himself; they were ready to feed straight into his artifact. Talk about a pleasant surprise!


    “That guy was a late-stage Manifest Saint, collecting godly materials,” Lu Qingmo mused. “Looks like he had his sights set on Yin God status too.”


    Too bad for him—grand ambitions and perfect prep didn’t mean squat when you lost your life. Still, between the Life-Substitution Jade from earlier and these godly materials now, it was clear Han’s ambusher wasn’t some nobody.


    Staring at the four fragments, Lu Qingmo’s eyes suddenly sparked with an idea. “I’ve got it.”


    “What?” Han asked.


    “I’ll have Junior Brother Song look into whether these materials have popped up in Jade Capital in recent years—who bought them, if they hit the market. Godly materials are rare, even in a place like Jade Capital. They don’t show up often, and when they do, people notice. We might dig up some leads this way.”


    Han blinked, piecing it together. Investigating from Jade Capital meant… “Aunt Mo, you’re leaning toward Zuo Tianzheng as the culprit?”


    Several factions had motive, but zeroing in on Jade Capital pointed straight at Zuo Tianzheng.


    Her gaze turned cold. “He’s my top suspect. He’s got the motive, the means, and the easiest access. Sure, the Black Cloud Guards were short-handed today because of yesterday’s supposed rogue cultivator attack, but pulling off the rest of this plan wouldn’t be simple for rogue cultivators. If they just wanted you dead, fine—but what’s Ruoyue got to do with them? They’d have no way to meddle in the Mountain God’s trial.”


    “If they just wanted you dead, fine…” Han almost rolled his eyes at the phrasing but let it slide. “Yeah, that does make Zuo Tianzheng look guiltier.”


    Lu Qingmo pulled out her jade disc and sent the request to Junior Brother Song. Han rubbed the godly materials thoughtfully, amazed they’d sparked this breakthrough. Double win.


    “By the way, Aunt Mo,” he added, “you went pretty hard on Zuo Tianzheng. Will Xuandu Temple give you flak for it? Could it mess things up for you?”


    She brushed it off. “At worst, the elders will chew me out a bit. No big deal.” She hadn’t laid a finger on him—just flexed some verbal muscle. A Xuandu Temple disciple clashing with朝廷 officials? Small potatoes.


    “Focus on healing,” she cautioned. “Don’t slack off, or you’ll risk trouble down the road in your cultivation.”


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    Han nodded, though he wasn’t too worried. As long as he didn’t drop dead on the spot, the Nine-Orifice Golden Elixir and True Dragon Blood Soul Stone would patch him up fine. Injuries? Minor inconveniences. Those divine items could heal anything without leaving scars.


    Plus, he had the Yang Earth Fire fused with Phoenix Flames now—Nirvana Fire, they called it. Han wasn’t at rebirth levels, but recovery? Piece of cake. The Yang Fire blazed across his soul, Phoenix power seeping into every corner, while the True Dragon Blood Soul Stone poured strength in, mending him up. Dragon and Phoenix energies intertwined flawlessly, accelerating his soul’s recovery at an astonishing pace.


    Lu Qingmo watched, marveling at the dragon-phoenix synergy. Han’s healing speed didn’t shock her—she’d seen it before. Dragon might and Phoenix fire, cycling in harmony. As his injuries faded, his soul felt reborn, tougher and more solid than ever.


    Night deepened. Seeing Han stable, Lu Qingmo left him to it.


    Han wasted no time pulling out his natal artifact. The moment it touched the four godly materials, the tree-like form quivered faintly. Edible! Han grinned. His artifact was a glutton among tools—didn’t care about type or attribute, it devoured everything, unlike any other natal artifact he’d heard of. But that insatiable appetite? A blessing.


    The artifact latched onto the materials, slowly absorbing their essence. What a feast, Han thought, amused. Four tough pieces at once—quite the stomach. He sent it into his soul realm to digest. It’d taken a full night to process a single Manifest Saint-grade auxiliary material before; two godly ones would take even longer.


    By morning, strolling through town, Han noticed people pointing and whispering. Listening closer, he caught snippets—they were talking about his ambush by the Manifest Saint. He chuckled. Interesting. Besides him, Lu Qingmo, and their crew, only the mastermind knew the details. This leak didn’t come from their side, that much was obvious.


    So the culprit was still lurking in Black Cloud Town. Even if rogue cultivators were behind it, they’d have ways to spread the word. But why? This move wouldn’t hurt him—it’d only boost his rep. Surviving a Manifest Saint ambush as a Visceral Realm martial artist? That was legendary, a jaw-dropping feat. They were practically handing him fame on a platter.


    Wait.


    A thought struck him. Maybe fame was the point—a tactic called “killing with kindness.” In Black Cloud Town’s current climate, being too famous could backfire, painting a target on his back. Picture this: some new faction rolls in, asking, “Who’s the top dog here?” A random townsfolk replies, “Oh, Han from Taibai, obviously—not me!” The unbeatable genius of Black Cloud, untouchable even by a Manifest Saint? A threat—top-priority threat! Any group eyeing the Mountain God’s favor would think the same.


    Realizing this, Han shook his head, unfazed. Schemes and tricks galore—I’ll just keep refining myself, steady as a rock. With enough strength, this wouldn’t be a trap—it’d be a crown.


    He was right. Since last night, when the rumor sprang from who-knows-where, the town had erupted. Survived a Manifest Saint ambush and held out till Lu Qingmo arrived? For real? The gap between Visceral and Manifest Saint was insane—how’d Black Cloud’s “top genius” pull that off? People were dying to know how a Visceral Realm fighter lasted against a Manifest Saint. It defied martial logic, broke all the rules.


    Han was already a name in town; now his fame shot through the roof. The rumor also explained Lu Qingmo’s rampage against Zuo Tianzheng and the Heavenly Dragon Sect—she suspected them, plain and simple.


    The Heavenly Dragon Sect, meanwhile, was fuming. Sure, they’d toyed with the idea of eliminating Han and Bai Ruoyue if they couldn’t claim them, but this? Not their doing. Yet Lu Qingmo had stormed their doorstep anyway. Talk about unfair! “They call us overbearing and unreasonable,” one griped, “but Lu Qingmo’s the real bully here!”


    Walking to the martial hall, Han tuned into the buzz. At first, it was flattering—praise, awe, folks hyping him up as the ultimate genius. But then things took a turn. His expression soured.


    Fine, say I groveled and begged the Manifest Saint to spare me—I can live with that. But then came the kicker: He seduced the enemy, traded his virtue, worked every trick in the book to charm the guy till help arrived. Seriously?! The ambusher was a dude! “You’re the one selling your virtue!” Han wanted to yell. “If I’m trading anything, it’d be to the one saving me!”


    He was sure the mastermind didn’t start that version. Rumors just got wilder with every retelling. Was this still “killing with kindness,” or straight-up slander? Covering his face, Han hurried to the martial hall.


    Shen Yu sidled up, concerned. “Little Junior Brother, how’re your injuries?”


    “No worries, they’re healing up,” Han said with a smile. “I’m tough—bounce back fast.”


    “Junior Brother, the whole town’s talking about you,” Zhang Yuantao warned. “This smells like bad intentions, putting you right in the spotlight.”


    Han nodded. “I’ve got it under control.”


    “Where’s Senior Sister?”


    “Training.”


    That night, Lu Qingmo shared the same take on the sudden rumors. But knowing Han’s strength, she wasn’t concerned. Good or bad, it all depended on power—strong enough, and every downside flipped to an upside.


    No word from Junior Brother Song yet—tracking those materials through Jade Capital’s markets and guilds was a slog, taking time.


    For three days straight, Han focused on recovery, bolstered by divine items. His progress was lightning-fast, exceeding even Lu Qingmo’s expectations. This kid’s not human, she thought. Never seen anyone this quick at everything.


    Once healed, his soul felt denser, forged tougher by the ordeal. True gold comes from relentless hammering. Recovery was one joy; tonight brought a second.


    The Magic Conch glowed faintly—a “call” was coming. Finding a water source, the Dragon Girl’s voice chimed in.


    “Han?”


    “It’s me. Did the shrimp soldiers and crab generals make it to Black Cloud Town?” By his count, it’d been days since her last visit—she should’ve gathered the seeds he needed.


    “They didn’t,” she said, a playful lilt in her tone. “I did.”


    “…You came yourself? I’m flattered—sorry to trouble you.” Last time, they’d agreed her minions would handle it.


    Meeting Lu Qingmo briefly, Han headed to the Yun River bank. The Dragon Girl was waiting, grinning as she handed him a spatial pouch. “Took a bit longer because of the variety. I even swung by Turtle Chancellor to grab some rare medicinal seeds.”


    Han’s spirit probed the pouch, and his heart skipped. Hundreds of wooden boxes lined up inside, each labeled with detailed notes on the seeds. Most were low-to-mid-tier, but the sheer number was staggering. Plenty would serve Day Roaming Bone Refining and Manifest Saint Marrow Cleansing stages. And in the center—six boxes tagged as Yin God-grade seeds! Dragon Palace’s wealth was unreal—casually doubling the Yin God seeds from the Three Yin Legacy hoard.


    Better yet, aside from a few high-tier seeds tricky to propagate, most were easy to reseed with basic alchemy know-how. She’d clearly put real effort into this. Hundreds of seeds weren’t Dragon Palace’s full stash after centuries, but it was a hefty chunk. Dragon Girl’s generosity hits hard.


    “This is too much,” Han hesitated.


    She waved it off. “Just some seeds. Dragon Palace has plenty left even after this.”


    Han took a breath. “Let me trade you matured herbs for them.” Last time, they’d settled on him buying seeds outright.


    She blinked, stepping closer, her smile widening. “I don’t want herbs.”


    “Then what do you want?”


    She leaned in, eyes locked on his, grin turning mischievous.


    Oh no, she’s after me. He hadn’t traded his virtue to survive the Manifest Saint—but it looked like he might have to with this dragon.