Han stood alone beneath the peach tree, silently admiring the blossoms.


    The peach flowers here bloomed vibrantly year-round, a feat made possible through the subtle workings of Taoist techniques—such a small trick was well within their capabilities.


    He had been about to leave when Lu Qingmo called out to him, asking him to wait a moment. She wanted to prepare something for his safety. A short while later, she emerged from the pavilion and handed Han a spatial pouch.


    “What’s inside?” Han asked, extending his spiritual senses into the bag.


    The contents came into view as if before his very eyes: a pale pink suit of battle armor, a cyan jade bracelet, and a talisman.


    “This is a Life-Bearing Talisman,” Lu Qingmo explained. “It’s similar to the life-substitution jade pendant used by that Manifested Saint cultivator who once ambushed you. When you’re hit with an attack you can’t withstand, it can absorb a portion of the damage for you. But remember—it can only take on damage, not save your life entirely.”


    Han nodded, understanding the distinction. Absorbing damage was one thing; cheating death was another.


    Lu Qingmo continued, “The Vajra Bracelet, when worn and activated, releases a Vajra Protective Light. It can shield your physical body when your soul leaves it—a true Manifested Saint treasure. No need for complex refining; just imprint it with your mark, and it’s ready to use.”


    Treasures like this were distinct from ordinary artifacts or martial weapons. A Manifested Saint treasure was exceedingly rare, likely something Lu Qingmo had kept for her own use.


    “As for the armor,” she went on, “it’s a Manifested Saint-grade artifact. When worn by your soul, it offers excellent protection against harm.”


    Battle armor artifacts typically served one purpose: defense. Han, however, grew curious and asked, “What’s it called?”


    She’d named the other two items—surely this one had a name too. It was so pink and delicate, almost cute in its design.


    “It doesn’t have a name,” Lu Qingmo replied. “I’ve already undone the imprint on it. Refine it yourself before heading into Black Mountain. It’ll add an extra layer of safety.”


    “Huh?” Han blinked, caught off guard. “Aunt Mo, is this your personal artifact?”


    The thought hit him—this was something Lu Qingmo had worn close to her body day and night. And now it was going to be on him? He could almost feel the lingering warmth.


    “Yes,” she confirmed with a nod.


    Han stared at the soft pink armor, picturing Lu Qingmo wearing it. The contrast was striking—her cool, aloof demeanor paired with something so dainty. He couldn’t help but chuckle. Who’d have thought Aunt Mo, so serene and detached, had this side to her?


    Lu Qingmo’s expression remained steady, though her fingers twitched slightly. She could tell from Han’s look exactly what was running through his mind.


    “Aunt Mo, do you have a thing for pink?” he teased.


    “It was a gift from my master,” she explained. “She decided everything about it.”


    That made sense.


    “But if I take this, won’t you be left without anything to wear?” Han blurted out, only to realize how that sounded. He quickly corrected himself. “I mean, without a defensive artifact. The bracelet and talisman too—these are all your treasures, right? If you give them to me, you’ll have nothing left.”


    Lu Qingmo shook her head. “I’m staying in Black Cloud Town. There’s no danger here that requires them. You need them more.” Her tone grew firm. “Your safety comes first. Even if you don’t find the Sky-Mending Vine, it’s not a big deal—just make sure you come back unharmed.”


    She sighed softly. “If this were years ago, I could’ve given you a Yin Spirit artifact. With a divine weapon’s protection, your safety would’ve been guaranteed. But when I came to Black Cloud Town, I left my Yin Spirit artifacts back at Xuandu Temple.”


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    Han hadn’t expected that. It sounded so final, almost reckless.


    “When you return to Xuandu Temple someday, will you be able to reclaim them?” he asked.


    “Yes,” she nodded. “The divine artifacts granted by the temple were returned, but the ones my master gave me and those I acquired during my travels are mine. They’re being held by my senior sister, who’s nurturing them for me.”


    Given Lu Qingmo’s talent and status back then, owning Yin Spirit artifacts was only natural. Most true disciples of top-tier sects had similar privileges.


    “If that’s the case, why not bring them to Black Cloud Town?” Han wondered. “With divine artifacts, your strength would be even greater.”


    “They’re unnecessary here,” she replied, shaking her head. “Enemies I can’t handle wouldn’t be stopped by Yin Spirit artifacts either. For me, their boost isn’t significant. Besides, leaving them with my senior sister has its benefits. Xuandu Mountain is a blessed place, and her cultivation surpasses mine. With her nurturing them, their quality has likely improved over the past decade. Keeping them with me would’ve only held them back.”


    Han nodded silently, piecing together more than she’d said. Back then, Lu Qingmo must have been disillusioned, fleeing to Black Cloud Town with little hope of recovery. Entrusting her artifacts might’ve been a veiled farewell—she’d lost her drive, and rather than let them waste away with her, she’d given them to someone she trusted.


    Fifteen years ago, before the Mountain God’s fall, she’d likely assumed her days of guarding Black Cloud Town would be permanent. Unless her master emerged from seclusion, her life would’ve been spent raising Bai Ruoyue, detached from the outside world, until her end. Back then, Bai Tian hadn’t even reached Marrow Cleansing, let alone True Blood. There’d been no hope of returning to the Ling family.


    But fate had other plans. Han’s rise, Bai Tian’s breakthrough, and Lu Qingmo’s renewed hope—everything was turning for the better.


    Things were looking up!


    Han didn’t press her about the past—it’d only stir up unnecessary sorrow. Instead, Lu Qingmo offered a few more words of caution, her concern evident. The Sky-Mending Vine mattered, but compared to some things, it paled in importance.


    “Oh, by the way,” Han said, shifting gears, “I was just thinking—Zuo Tianzheng’s so eager to enter Black Mountain himself, risking everything. Does he already know there’s a treasure he needs in there?”


    “Who can guess what he’s thinking?” Lu Qingmo shook her head, then smiled. “But I’d say he’s only heading in because you forced his hand.”


    “Forced him? How?” Han asked, puzzled.


    “From the start, he set up the Black Cloud Guard and recruited talents from every family. It’s clear he had no intention of going in himself. He was preparing for the Mountain God’s trial, hoping to get what he wanted through proper channels. But you—you’re too exceptional, and there’s no way you’d work for him. Right now, no genius in Black Cloud can outshine you in the trial. His original plan fell apart. If he still wants his prize, going in himself is probably his best shot.”


    He’d hoped to play the mastermind, reaping rewards from the sidelines. But the other talents in Black Cloud Town? Utterly unreliable. So, he had to step up himself.


    Han’s grin widened. “That’s not my fault. I can’t help being this good. You can’t blame me for existing, right?”


    Over the next few moments, Han began refining the armor. As he did, he noticed four tiny characters etched near the collar. When he made them out, his expression turned odd.


    Maiden’s Heart.


    That was the inscription.


    He glanced at Lu Qingmo, sitting nearby. Was this its name? No wonder she’d dodged the question—too embarrassed to say it aloud. A grown woman with a pink armor named Maiden’s Heart? Han fought back a laugh.


    Lu Qingmo’s hand on the table clenched slightly.


    But Han’s amusement didn’t last. A realization hit him.


    Wait—if she was lending him Maiden’s Heart, that meant he’d be wearing it.


    His composure cracked.


    Him, in this? The contrast was absurd. Pink and a tough guy—did they even go together?


    Under Lu Qingmo’s watchful gaze, Han left the peach grove and headed to Taibai. He told Bai Tian and the others about his plan to enter Black Mountain.


    “The ground just shook not long ago,” Bai Tian warned. “Going in now could be risky.”


    “Yeah,” Bai Ruoyue chimed in. “Last time we went, it was crawling with wild beasts.”


    She nodded in agreement, then added, “Little Junior Brother, how about I go with you? We could watch each other’s backs.”


    Her suggestion was predictable, but Han turned it down.


    “I’ll move faster alone. If trouble hits, it’s easier to escape. Senior Sister, you should stay at the dojo and train with Master.”


    Solo, he could flee skyward if needed. With Bai Ruoyue, he’d be held back. Plus, having someone else around would limit his trump card—the life-burning technique. If she’d reached Bone Refining, she’d be a solid ally, even at the early stage. Beasts were easier to handle than humans, after all. But she hadn’t.


    This trip would take him deep into Black Mountain—too dangerous for her.


    Bai Ruoyue sighed. “You’re right. I’d only hold you back right now. Since it’s for Aunt Mo, you have to go, but be careful.”


    She still remembered their last venture into Black Mountain, when she’d been the strongest of the group, leading them fearlessly. Times had changed—Han had surpassed her. It stung a little.


    The others chimed in with well-wishes, urging him to stay safe.


    “Got your healing pills?”


    “Yep.”


    “And your Taoist talismans? Don’t forget those.”


    “Don’t worry, I’m fully prepared.”


    Bai Ruoyue kept fussing, and Han smiled warmly, touched by her care. Finally, he stepped out of Taibai alone, blending into the crowd until he vanished.


    Bai Ruoyue lingered at the entrance, her gaze fixed on the distance.


    “Have faith in him,” Bai Tian said. “When has he ever let us down?”


    She nodded. Her trust in Han was unshakable, but worry gnawed at her all the same.


    Soon, Han reached the edge of Black Mountain, the Yun family’s token tucked against his chest. The forest loomed deep and dark, like a maw ready to swallow him whole.


    With a single step, he entered its jaws.