A few hundred years of lifespan—enough to outright “burn out” several Manifestation or Marrow Cleansing cultivators.


    An Lang and Han were in this together, life and death entwined. How could she not be scared?


    To her, Han was spiraling—getting way too reckless.


    A bit too extreme.


    Han ignored her. Long hair, short sight—just take what I give you and quit yapping.


    In the peach grove, Lu Qingmo rolled in late that night.


    Her first words upon arrival: “The royals hit up the Ghost God Division today, grilled me about Zuo Tianzheng.”


    Han watched her, waiting for more.


    “They know I put the screws to Zuo after that ambush on you,” she said.


    Han nodded. “They asked me who I suspected—I told them straight.”


    “As long as you didn’t slip up,” Lu Qingmo said. “Only hitch is, they also asked how you held off a Manifestation cultivator until I got there.”


    Han grinned, already clocking the royals’ angle. “By their logic—and common sense—me and Senior Sister should’ve been dead under Master Qian’s hands. No way we’d last ‘til you showed.”


    “Me walking out alive? That’s the weird part. Suspicious.”


    “Bet they’re also wondering why I’m cultivating this fast.”


    “Don’t sweat it,” Lu Qingmo said. “They can’t force your secrets out.”


    “If anyone asks how you stalled that Manifestation hit, stick to our script.”


    “Forget them,” Han said, pivoting. “You’re back late tonight, huh?”


    “Senior Brother Jiang brought some Xuandu disciples to the Division,” she explained. “Wanted me to slot them all in, give them stuff to do.”


    She shook her head. “Most of them are green—first time out of Xuandu. It’s about building experience.”


    Totally legit—Xuandu disciples had pull in the Ghost God Division.


    “Aunt Mo, you’re full-on ‘Uncle’ status now,” Han teased.


    “Guess I’m getting old,” she sighed.


    “…That’s not what I meant!”


    Setting me up, huh?


    “Manifestation cultivators live a hundred years—you’ve got decades left, Aunt Mo! Once you refine the Heavenly Saint Revival Elixir and hit godhood, you’ll be young forever.”


    Han pressed on: “Doesn’t the elixir heal soul wounds and make up for the fifteen years you lost? You might not just hit Yin Spirit—could jump straight to Yellow Spring!”


    “Not that easy,” Lu Qingmo said with a wry smile.


    “Speaking of that, I’ve been meaning to ask something.”


    “What’s up?”


    “Why’s the lifespan for Manifestation and Marrow Cleansing cultivators just a hundred years?”


    Han was genuinely stumped. “Some rare mortals, if they dodge sickness and disaster, hit a hundred—even over it.”


    “Manifestation and Marrow Cleansing are crazy strong, but they cap at a hundred? That’s nuts.”


    For those realms, a hundred years was a hard stop—bam, you’re done. Not like mortals who might squeak past to 105. Unless you popped something like a lifespan-boosting spirit蛊, it was game over.


    If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Weird as hell—cultivate your ass off, and you’re still outlived by a lucky peasant?


    “That question bugs a lot of cultivators,” Lu Qingmo said. “Most can’t answer it.”


    “But you can?”


    She nodded. “The Temple Master explained it once.”


    “Because the heavens changed.”


    “Heaven’s changed? What’s that mean?”


    She didn’t answer straight, sidestepping instead. “You know some old Xuandu texts say cultivators back in ancient times lived way longer?”


    “Night Roaming or Visceral realm? A hundred years, minimum—something only the rarest mortals hit, but they always made it.”


    “Day Roaming or Bone Refining? At least 150 years. Strong foundation, top-tier power? Up to 200.”


    “Manifestation or Marrow Cleansing? Minimum 200, with the best hitting 300.”


    “Yin Spirit, True Blood, Yellow Spring, Thorough Earth—all the same. Lifespans dwarfed what we get now.”


    “Immortal-realm masters like the Temple Master? Back then, you could call it near-immortality.”


    “Even gods—legends say a Yin Spirit-level god had a lifespan so long it’s hard to fathom.”


    Han’s jaw dropped. “Three hundred years? What the hell happened to tank it like this? Just ‘heaven’s changed’?”


    Three hundred versus a hundred—night and day.


    In his old world, 300 years could watch a mortal dynasty rise and fall. A hundred? Peanuts next to their power.


    “Yeah,” Lu Qingmo said. “That long-lived era’s ancient—too old for anyone to have lived it. We just glimpse bits in the records.”


    “Then, out of nowhere, cultivators’ lifespan caps dropped. No reason in the texts—just happened.”


    “Boom, it’s like this now, and everyone’s used to it. No trace of when or why the cap shrank. Manifestation at 300 years? Pure myth now.”


    “But every top lineage knows it’s no myth. Every immortal on the Mountains and Rivers Life List has said something like the Temple Master: ‘Heaven’s changed.’”


    “That’s why lifespans shifted—why a Manifestation cultivator might not outlive a mortal without some rare booster.”


    Han was floored. This was some deep, hidden lore.


    It wasn’t that Manifestation cultivators couldn’t handle more years—it’s that heaven wouldn’t let them.


    “Why’d this even happen?” he muttered, baffled.


    Who doesn’t want more time? He sure did.


    If this was still that ancient era, he’d be Day Roaming in soul power—200 years easy with his foundation.


    Now? Even one more breakthrough, and it’s still just a hundred.


    Sucks.


    Talk about feast or famine.


    The [Longevity Dao Fruit] had so much lifespan he couldn’t burn it all—heck, it might not even be the only one. Who knows how many eons it’s packing?


    Yet cultivators today were stuck with this measly cap.


    Where’d that [Longevity Dao Fruit] even come from, anyway?


    “Ancient times, heaven’s shift—what’s that actually mean?”


    Lu Qingmo shook her head. “No idea.”


    “The Temple Master just said that—didn’t elaborate.”


    “But since every immortal on the list echoes it, we trust the ancient era in those texts was real, not just stories.”


    Han sighed. “Knowing this, a hundred years feels so damn short now.”


    “Who jacked my extra lifespan?!”


    Well… with the [Longevity Dao Fruit] tanking time’s toll this month, he’d get 100 years plus a month at Manifestation. Small win, right?


    “You’ll hit Yin Spirit and True Blood for sure—no need to stress,” Lu Qingmo said. “Even a hundred years can be a blast—way better than a mortal’s lot.”


    Manifestation lords over counties—same lifespan as a peasant, but lived a thousand times better.


    It’s not just length—hardness and quality count too.


    Han hit his solo cultivation, still chewing on this “heaven’s shift” thing.


    Gut said there was a massive secret behind it.


    …Pretty much everyone who heard this thought the same.


    Next morning, Yunduo bounced into the peach grove again.


    “Got stuff to do today?” Han asked.


    “Nope!” she chirped, grinning. “Dad sent me to drop something off for you.”


    She handed him a talisman paper. “It’s got what Dad wants to tell you—I didn’t peek!”


    “Uncle Yun’s got a message for me?”


    Han took it, and Yunduo darted off to Lu Qingmo.


    “Teacher, teacher! When’re you making me an official disciple?!”


    She’d caught wind of it—little girl was hyped.


    Official disciples needed a proper ceremony, unlike nominal ones. The Yun family was prepping.


    Once ready, she’d formally bow in, joining Xuandu’s ranks.


    Watching her skip off, Han smiled, then probed the talisman with his mind. His expression froze.


    Yun Yuannan’s opening line hit like a thunderclap:


    The Moon-Chasing Wolf Clan is wiped out!


    Sudden and explosive as hell.


    Han dug into the rest, soaking it all up. When he finished, the talisman crumbled to ash.


    He stood there, eyes flickering, until Yunduo left all bubbly and Lu Qingmo strolled over.


    “What’s up?”


    Han exhaled slow. “Good news.”


    “Last time I was in Black Mountain, snagging the Sky-Mending Vine from the Moon-Chasing Wolf Clan? They’re gone now.”


    “Wipes out my last loose end.”


    “Gone?” Lu Qingmo blinked, surprised. “Who did it? Yun family?”


    “Nope—Light Fox Clan,” Han said, his tone odd. “They got their Spirit Union Technique back. In just days, a Day Roaming peak fox tapped their ancestral power and broke through to Manifestation.”


    “Few others got a boost too.”


    “Then their chief, Hu Tutu, pounced—took out the Wolf King and Queen, crushed the Moon-Chasing Wolf Clan flat. Wolf Valley’s theirs now.”


    Han had smashed Wolf Valley’s array, and it wasn’t fixed. The Wolf Queen, crippled by Han, took days to crawl back from death’s door—still a wreck.


    Meanwhile, the Light Fox Clan gained a Manifestation beast. One side sank, the other soared—Moon-Chasing’s doom was sealed.


    Light Fox bloodlines outclassed Moon-Chasing’s anyway. One-on-one, the Wolf King couldn’t touch Hu Tutu.


    The wounded Queen? Freshly broken-through Hu Lie Lie still outmatched her.


    Blood feud ran deep—years of slaughter on both sides.


    Moon-Chasing at its weakest, Hu Tutu pounced hard and ended it.


    Lu Qingmo paused, then sighed. “Well… that is good news.”