Han’s plea was airtight, dripping with conviction—a heartfelt appeal that could move mountains. Lu Qingmo didn’t buy a word of it.


    Still, if he wanted it, she’d hand it over. With a flick of her spatial ring, she produced a jade slip and passed it to him.


    “You’re curious—fine, take a look. Just don’t practice it,” she warned. Truth be told, she wasn’t worried about him using it. This forbidden art was for smashing through cultivation bottlenecks, and Han wouldn’t need that anytime soon—his path was obstacle-free. He wouldn’t burn his lifespan for kicks, right? That’s why she felt safe giving it up. A little extra knowledge never hurt a cultivator.


    “Sacrificial Life Path-Breaking Art…” Han’s mental energy dipped into the jade slip, skimming its contents. Lu Qingmo hadn’t fibbed—it did exactly what she’d said.


    Then a question popped up. “Aunt Mo, since this art burns all your remaining lifespan, if I torched ten thousand years, wouldn’t that guarantee a breakthrough?”


    “…”


    Great question—bold, innovative, trailblazing. Don’t ask it again.


    “Forget that this art can’t handle ten thousand years—who in the world lives that long?” she countered. “Only mythic Yang God cultivators might hit that mark, and those fairy-tale titans wouldn’t need a trick like this. All lifespan arts have caps—both the technique and your body can only take so much. Burn a set amount, get a set boost, then it fizzles out. No infinite scaling. Same goes for lifespan-fueled training arts.”


    Ugh, so annoying. That’s where Han’s head was at. All he wanted was to “die a little”—shave off a few centuries. Why was that so hard? This world won’t let me live right, and now it won’t even let me die right!


    “I need to hunt down some lifespan arts,” he decided aloud.


    Lu Qingmo blinked, then her face tightened. “You’re off tonight—what’s with this obsession?”


    “Come here.”


    “For what?”


    Han stepped closer. She pressed a hand to his forehead, a surge of power coursing through him, probing every corner before receding.


    “Soul out,” she ordered.


    “Alright.” She repeated the process on his spirit.


    “What’s this for?” Han asked, puzzled.


    “No demonic possession, no glitches—body and soul are clean. So why are you acting like this?”


    Han was speechless. “Aunt Mo, I’m not nuts. I’m wide awake—never been sharper, honest.”


    “I’m just super curious, that’s all. When something catches my interest, it sticks with me—I can’t relax until I figure it out. Think back—haven’t I been like this before?”


    Lu Qingmo mulled it over. Yeah, he had a track record. Every now and then, he’d toss out random, seemingly irrelevant questions—stuff way outside his lane—showing a weird passion for oddball trivia. Those quirks were harmless, though. This time, he’d latched onto something taboo.


    She sighed inwardly. Too much free time—his brain’s running wild.


    “If you’re bored, go learn alchemy with An Lang instead of daydreaming all day.”


    Han’s soul snapped back into his body. He grabbed her hand. “Trust me, I’m just hooked on lifespan arts—no way I’d use them to drain myself.”


    Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    Just the Eternal Life Taoist Fruit’s stash, that’s all. With this cheat active, his own lifespan was locked solid—no burning it even if he tried.


    “Once I snag some lifespan arts, you can check me daily—see if I’ve messed around. I’d never lie to you!” Lifespan damage showed up fast unless patched up quick—easy to spot. But the fruit? Invisible to any probe.


    That sealed it—Lu Qingmo bought his story.


    Back in his room, Han schemed quietly. “Combat, cultivation—whatever it takes, I’ve got to burn some lifespan this month.” Skimp on using it, and it’d feel like a loss.


    He had a plan to track down lifespan arts too. At dawn, he hit a water source and fired up the magical conch to ping the Dragon Maiden. Yunjiang Dragon Palace had centuries of hoarding—surely they’d have something. He’d tap her network, see what shook loose. No freeloading, though—thanks to multiple cheats and “helpful donors,” Han had some serious assets now. He could trade fair and square, no shortchanging her.


    “Lifespan-draining arts or artifacts?” Her voice crackled through the conch.


    “We’ve got stuff like that in the palace, but you know what that means, right?”


    “Just want a peek—Aunt Mo’s got my back, she won’t let me go wild,” Han said, name-dropping Lu Qingmo.


    It worked—she caved. Made sense with that logic. “I’ll dig around and have someone deliver it.”


    “No hassle needed—just buzz me when you find something. I’m heading to Yunlong City next.”


    “Fair enough.”


    Conch off, Han buzzed with hope. Come on, Dragon Maiden, blow me away. All that lifespan, untapped—it was like ants crawling under his skin.


    “Little Brother, you look chipper,” Bai Ruoyue noted, clocking his glee.


    “’Cause I’m immortal now.”


    “…You’re getting lazier,” she teased. “This late, and you’re still half-asleep?”


    Han shot her a smug sidelong glance. “Foolish mortal.”


    “Anyway, I’m off to Yunlong City soon.”


    “To see Ao Xuanwei again?”


    “It’s legit business,” he clarified.


    “You meeting her, though?”


    “…Yeah.”


    Her cheeks puffed up. “Senior Sister, Black Cloud Town’s crawling with outsiders now—things are shaky. Let me handle this solo run.”


    He added, “Stay here and hold down the fort at the hall.”


    Her pout deepened. “Ugh, everyone thinks I’m in the way.”


    With a sigh, she turned, her back radiating gloom. “Go on, then—I’ll guard the hall alone.”


    The hall did need a anchor, and she knew it. “I’m leaving Galaxy with you,” Han offered.


    Galaxy popped out of the beast bag, catching Han’s eye signal and getting the memo. “Woo-woo-woo!” It scampered over, hopping onto her shoulder, nuzzling her cheek. Her sulky face melted.


    “Stay safe!”


    “I’m not heading out yet.”


    Still, Han left Taibai Martial Hall, weaving through Black Cloud Town. At one point, he paused, catching snippets of roadside chatter.


    “More factions rolling in, huh…” Last night, a fresh wave had hit town—big players. The Mo family, a top clan from Tianzhou’s state capital, and True Extreme Sect, a heavyweight sect from the same turf. Han knew both names from Lu Qingmo. The Mo family matched the Dong family’s clout—state-level elite—and backed the Yuan family. True Extreme Sect rivaled Shenhua Sect, boasting Yellow Spring Realm powerhouses. Even the current Golden Dragon Martial Hall master in the county capital hailed from True Extreme Sect.


    “Besides Zuo Tianzheng and Tianlong Gate, all the big dogs hitting Black Cloud so far are Tianzhou locals,” Han mused. “Shenhua Sect and True Extreme Sect are just disciples—no biggie. Mo and Dong families lag behind those sects. If Master breaks through, he’d be True Blood—same league as their top guns…”


    Mid-thought, he reached his stop: the Yun family estate. The guards knew him—Miss Yun’s buddy—and ushered him in, one darting off to fetch Yun Duo. A maid brought tea; he’d barely sipped when footsteps pattered in.


    “Han-Han!” Yun Duo bounded over, beaming. “What’re you doing here? Dinner time?”


    “…” How do I even answer that? From anyone else, it’d sound like a brush-off. From Yun Duo? She legit meant food.


    “Got business,” Han said. “Hoping to see the Yun family head.”


    “Oh, looking for Dad, huh?” No hint of letdown. “Wait here—I’ll grab him!” She zipped off, practically skipping, carefree as ever.


    Han stayed put—rushing after her might pressure Yun Yuannan if he was busy or unwilling. Better let Yun Duo scout it out. She didn’t return, but Yun Yun did.


    “Han?” She strolled in. “Heard you were here—for Yun Duo?”


    “Nah…” He explained; she nodded, then studied him. “You’ve… gotten stronger again?”


    “Made some gains,” he admitted. Last outing with her crew, he’d refined two of his six organs. Now, one shy of full mastery—perfect cycle, edging into Visceral Realm mid-tier. Soul-wise, he’d jumped from early to mid-Day Roaming. Solid boost.


    Yun Yun went quiet. Every meet-up, this guy leapfrogged his last self. She’d long ditched any rivalry, but the mixed feelings lingered.


    Soon, Yun Duo bounced back with good news. “Han, let’s go—Dad’s waiting!”


    He followed her to the main hall. “Nephew Han! Been a minute—you’re sharper, more dazzling than ever,” Yun Yuannan gushed.


    Han braced for the next line: Marry my daughter already!