At the window, Bai Tian stood watching as Elder Bai and the other two vanished down the street.


    The questioning was over, and Han had played his part—cooperative to a fault. With Bai Tian there, they wouldn’t dare snatch him up.


    Han lounged back, sipping tea leisurely. “Master, staring at them so openly—won’t they notice?”


    At their level, perception was razor-sharp, borderline divine.


    “Nah,” Bai Tian said, shaking his head. “Those three ooze presence—plenty of folks are gawking.”


    “Plus, that question’s selling your Master short.”


    “True,” Han grinned. “You’re a True Blood badass, after all.”


    “Before I got here, what’d they say to you?”


    Bai Tian stepped away from the window. “They broke the news about Zuo Tianzheng’s death, asked my take.”


    “Then they thanked me for keeping Black Cloud steady—pitched me a sweet deal to join the Great Qi royals in Jade Capital on behalf of the throne.”


    “That’s about it.”


    “They’d never guess you’re actually heading to Jade Capital,” Han said.


    Just not for the royals.


    Bai Tian sidestepped that. “You handled yourself well back there. Based on your words alone, no one’d tie you to Zuo Tianzheng’s death.”


    “But don’t let your guard down—keep it airtight.”


    “Relax, Master, I’ve got this.”


    Han left the room, only to get swarmed by Bai Ruoyue and the crew, all buzzing with questions about what went down.


    Jin Zhan stayed quiet, lost in thought, until they’d walked a good distance. Then he spoke up.


    “Elder Bai, Master—what’s your read on this Han?”


    Elder Bai replied, “Pretty honest. Didn’t seem to hide much.”


    “He’s Visceral realm, been at it maybe half a year—damn impressive,” Commander Yang said. “He’s dabbling in soul cultivation too, but pulling this off in martial arts that fast? Not easy. His soul power, though…”


    Yang shook his head. “With that strength, if he’d run into Zuo Tianzheng in Black Mountain, he wouldn’t have walked out two days ago—he’d be dead by Zuo’s hand.”


    Yang wasn’t buying Han as the killer. The gap in raw power was just too wide.


    As for the ambush on Han and Bai Ruoyue, Zuo Tianzheng’s two guards had already spilled the beans to Elder Bai’s team—clean confession.


    The trio didn’t bat an eye. No opinions, no fuss.


    Assassinations? Royals did it plenty. Hell, every faction under the sun targeted rival prodigies.


    Just don’t get caught.


    “Looks like he’s in the clear,” Jin Zhan said. “Even if he wanted to use beasts to take down Lord Zuo, pulling that off with his strength? Slim chance.”


    “But I’ve got two nagging doubts about him.”


    “Oh?” Elder Bai’s tone was gentle. “What’d you spot, Little Jin?”


    “First doubt’s about that ambush,” Jin Zhan said, breaking it down. “Zuo sent Master Qian to take out Han and Bai Ruoyue—two Visceral realm kids. How’d they hold off a Manifestation cultivator until Lu Qingmo showed up?”


    “Even if they’re both prodigies, maybe Bone Refining level, facing Master Qian? One move, and they’re toast. Yet they lasted ‘til rescue. Doesn’t add up—a big red flag. Means Han or Bai Ruoyue’s got something up their sleeve to fend off a Manifestation cultivator.”


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.


    “At least enough to stall for a bit. Still, that wouldn’t touch Zuo and his crew—so it’s just a suspicion.”


    “Makes sense,” Elder Bai nodded. “Go on.”


    “Second doubt’s his cultivation speed,” Jin Zhan continued. “A twenty-two-year-old with zero prior training, no hint of talent, joins Tai Bai Martial Hall and hits this level in half a year? That’s world-class prodigy stuff.”


    He shook his head. “It’s nuts. This is Black Cloud Town, not Xuandu’s Mysterious Law Mountain. His master’s a fresh True Blood, Lu Qingmo’s just Manifestation. No big backing—how’s he doing this?”


    “Whatever’s fueling that speed—could it juice up his combat too?”


    Jin glanced at Elder Bai and Yang. “Cases like this? Always means they’ve stumbled into some major opportunity.”


    “What Han’s got, what it can do—no one knows but him.”


    “That’s where I see the cracks. Clear those up, and he’s off the hook.”


    A monthly cheat refresh? No outsider could dream that up.


    But it didn’t stop them from pegging Han as a guy with secrets—some kind of windfall.


    Happened all the time in this world.


    Purple Sky Heavenly Lord climbed to immortality unstoppable—piled up opportunities young, even got hunted for a few.


    The Sima clan of Southern Jin found the Destiny Sect’s secret stash, nabbed an immortal artifact, and founded a dynasty—classic windfall.


    Every true disciple and dao seed from the big lineages had their own tales—divine artifacts, ancient techniques, old souls whispering advice, freakish physiques. History was lousy with it.


    Some nobody shoots to the top, or a regular cultivator vanishes and comes back transformed? Jackpot, guaranteed.


    Prodigies with secrets weren’t rare—Elder Bai and crew had seen it a million times.


    How big those secrets were? Only the holder knew.


    Sure, they’d seen it plenty—but that didn’t kill the itch to covet those goodies. Reality just kept their greed in check.


    Yang clapped Jin Zhan’s shoulder, grinning. “Sharp analysis, kid—spot on.”


    They’d clocked the same holes, but Yang brought Jin along to sharpen him up, so he let him talk.


    Plus, a Yin Spirit and True Blood vet didn’t stoop to grilling a kid like Han themselves—status and all.


    Jin Zhan sighed. “Shame Bai Tian’s True Blood too, and Han’s cozy with a Xuandu disciple. Can’t just drag him off.”


    “Bai Tian breaking through here in Black Cloud? He’s got secrets of his own.”


    “Outside the Yun family, Tai Bai Martial Hall’s the shadiest local outfit.”


    Lu Qingmo and Bai Tian were Han’s shield. If he’d been from Tenglong or Mad Blade halls, he’d already be in cuffs, getting squeezed hard.


    Those two joints wouldn’t faze Elder Bai’s team one bit.


    “No rush—take it slow,” Elder Bai said. “We’ll swing by the Yun family next, then wait for Pure Truth Palace and the others to come out of Black Mountain. Door by door after that.”


    “Whoever dared kill His Majesty’s man pays with their life.”


    At the Yun family, they got the same line from Yun Yuannan: I don’t know squat.


    Back at Tai Bai, Han had no clue Jin Zhan had flagged his two big “red flags”—and wouldn’t care if he did.


    Unless they had a cheat like the Fortune Gourd, they’d never sniff out his hacks, no matter how hard they dug.


    Some cheats even he didn’t fully get—where they hid, how they worked.


    Go ahead and poke around—find nothing.


    I got here through pure grit!


    After today’s cultivation wrapped, a soft golden glow bloomed from Han’s lungs—gentle, not blinding.


    His kidneys chimed in, glowing too, syncing with the lung light.


    That lung glow carried a vibe of flawless completion—solid, unbreakable.


    With each breath, his true qi surged stronger, his body shimmering with golden flickers.


    Han took a deep inhale, holding it forever before letting it rip.


    When he did, the chamber whipped up like a gust hit—wild stuff.


    One hell of a breath!


    “Congrats, Young Master! Lung perfected, another leap forward!”


    “Unmatched talent, one-of-a-kind—true immortal material!”


    An Lang’s cheers rang out, piling on the flattery.


    Han smirked. Brown-nosing ghost.


    Three days out of Black Mountain, three days of focused training, and boom—lung done.


    Those wild days in Black Mountain weren’t downtime. Fighting beasts, sprinting for his life—it all counted as training.


    Six days in the chaos, three days refining, and here he was.


    Two of the five viscera down—speed so insane it’d shock the world. He’d barely hit Visceral minor completion a hot minute ago.


    Even Bai Ruoyue, pre-Han, took months per organ back when she was the star. The five viscera? Way tougher.


    Han? Days per organ now!


    Say that out loud, and folks’d call it a fever dream.


    But they’d never guess the price—literal chunks of his life torched.


    Han flexed, feeling his state, and nodded, pleased.


    Lungs—metal in the five elements, the “canopy” of the organs.


    They ruled breath qi. Perfected, they sucked in heaven-and-earth essence like a vacuum, and one breath lasted ages—stamina through the roof.


    Lungs also drove qi generation and flow, tuning the whole system. Huge perks for cultivation and combat.


    Tied tight to the other four viscera, perfecting it juiced up everything.


    Mood soaring, Han yanked out the Three Yin Cauldron—time to cook!


    Good vibes stacked—five Reverse Fate Pills popped out today. That’s a clean hundred years of lifespan burned.


    Blazing through it—feels good.


    Same drill: slather on the honey, turn ‘em into candy drops.


    An Lang watched, heart pounding.


    “Young Master, you’re burning more and more—maybe pump the brakes? There’s still time to back off.”


    She was legit spooked. Just what she’d seen? Hundreds of years gone—nine Reverse Fate Pills, plus the Flying Immortal Technique eating the lion’s share.


    She was terrified she’d just drop dead out of nowhere.