Lin Xuan’s voice was calm, measured.

  “I deliberately allowed myself to be defeated.”

  Su Qingyun’s eyes widened.

  “Deliberately… defeated?” she asked, confusion cing her tone.

  “Yes,” Lin Xuan continued. “I allowed Liu Xin to defeat me—and in doing so, created havoc in Phoenix Crest City.”

  Su Qingyun’s lips parted as if to speak, but she hesitated, unsure.

  Lin Xuan raised a hand. “Ask your question. Don’t worry. I’m not a murderer… nor a truly bad person.”

  Before she could reply, he continued, his voice cold yet precise:

  “If I were truly a bad person, the entire Phoenix Crest City would have been destroyed long before I met you. There would be no survivors. I kill only those who deserve it—the wicked, not the innocent.”

  Su Qingyun’s jaw dropped. “B-But… you wreaked havoc there! The Elders of the Han Family… some rumor say their life force was sucked away, and they died! Are they—”

  Before Su Qingyun reply, she got interrupted.

  “They were bad people,” Lin Xuan’s tone was unshaken.

  Her eyes widened further. “But… why are you doing this, Master?”

  Lin Xuan’s expression remained unreadable. “To wreak havoc… and spread terror?”

  Su Qingyun blinked. “Yes?”

  He tilted his head slightly, thinking.

  Right… if I say it’s for Liu Xin, she’ll think I’m insane—someone who enjoys terrorizing mortals.

  Then an idea struck him. His voice became calm, persuasive:

  “Because this world is full of wars, killing each other for their own benefit drowned in endless war, kingdoms crumble, empires colpse, and dynasties turn to dust—all for the insatiable greed for power. Bloodlines shatter as kin raise bdes against their own flesh, brothers betray brothers, and heirs poison their sires, all to grasp a throne that will one day cim them as well. Such is the w of this realm kill, or be killed… for in a nd ruled by ambition, mercy is the first to die.”

  He looked at Su Qingyun with a serious expression.

  “The only way to unite the people is to create a common enemy—one so powerful, so threatening, that they feel the world itself might be destroyed. Only then will mortals put aside their petty differences and fight together against a true threat.”

  Su Qingyun’s eyes went wide. Awe, shock, and understanding washed over her.

  So… that’s why he attacked Phoenix Crest City to spread his name and to fear him…

  To become an enemy of the world, so that mortals will unite… against a greater threat…

  Her fists clenched, heart burning with resolve.

  “Master,” she said firmly, determination in her voice.

  “I devote my entire body, life, and soul to achieve your goal—to unite the mortals of this world.”

  Lin Xuan’s lips curved into a faint smile. She believes my lie. What did she mean by devoting her entire body? Never mind—as long as she follows me.

  He produced a small, intricately bound cultivation manual.

  “Now,” Lin Xuan said, “I will give you this cultivation manual the Abyssal Sin Devouring Art.”

  Su Qingyun hesitated, eyes flicking to the manual. “Master… is this really the right thing?”

  Lin Xuan’s voice was calm, absolute. “Yes.”

  “But… it reeks of polluted Qi,” she said, suspicion flickering in her gaze.

  Lin Xuan’s lips curved faintly. “That is merely a disguise.”

  Su Qingyun’s eyes widened slightly as realization struck—though she did not question further.

  “Cultivate diligently,” Lin Xuan said, stepping back. “I will return another day to see your progress.”

  She bowed deeply and said, “I won’t disappoint you, Master.”

  Lin Xuan’s figure remained still for a moment—then, without another word, he vanished without a trace from the spot where he had stood.

  Only Su Qingyun remained, her eyes fixed on the eerie cultivation manual in her hands.

  Her voice was low, firm, and resolute:

  “I will cultivate with all my strength, seize my revenge, and never bring shame to Master!”

  ...

  Outside the Prosperity Cloud Chamber, the night air was cool and still.

  Lantern light spilled faintly from the upper floors, illuminating the marble steps below. Standing in the shadows across the street were Lin Xuan and Yue, their figures hidden from mortal sight as if they were never there at all.

  Yue tilted her head slightly, crimson eyes narrowing with suspicion.

  “Master,” she said slowly, “what scheme are you pnning this time?”

  Her gaze was doubtful, clearly unconvinced.

  Lin Xuan didn’t even look at her. His eyes remained fixed on the chamber building, calm and unreadable.

  “I’m not pnning anything,” he replied lightly. “I merely helped her improve her cultivation with the technique I gave her.”

  Yue stared at him.

  Silence.

  Her expression clearly said she didn’t believe a single word.

  Lin Xuan finally gnced sideways. “What?”

  Yue blinked once, then calmly looked away.

  “…Nothing.”

  But inside, her thoughts were different.

  Whenever Master says he’s not pnning anything… that’s exactly when the biggest trouble begins.

  Still, she didn’t question further.

  She had followed him long enough to understand one thing—

  Trying to stop Lin Xuan was pointless.

  So instead, she simply accepted it.

  Accepted that somewhere in the near future…

  Someone, somewhere, was definitely going to suffer because of whatever quiet scheme her master had already set in motion.

  The night wind drifted past.

  ...

  Phoenix Crest City, Zhao Family Manor

  Deep within the forbidden cultivation hall, spiritual mist drifted like pale ghosts across the floor. At the center sat Ancestor Zhao, cross-legged atop a jade ptform, his aura vast and unfathomable as he cultivated in silence.

  Suddenly—

  A figure rushed inside.

  “Ancestor! The cultivation method—the Abyssal Sin Devouring Art—it—”

  Ancestor Zhao’s eyes snapped open.

  The temperature in the chamber dropped instantly.

  His voice came out low and cold.

  “Patriarch… mind your status.”

  The man who had barged in trembled. This person was none other than the current Patriarch of the Zhao Family, yet before the old ancestor, he looked like a scolded child.

  “And why,” Ancestor Zhao continued slowly, “are you panicking?”

  The Patriarch swallowed. “The thing is… the manual…”

  He faltered.

  Ancestor Zhao frowned faintly. “Speak. What about the Abyssal Sin Devouring Art?”

  A pause.

  Then, with a faint sarcastic chuckle, he added—

  “Don’t tell me… it was stolen?”

  He ughed lightly after saying it.

  After all, he was in an excellent mood.

  In just one month, he would ascend.

  What in this world could possibly disturb him now?

  Silence.

  The Patriarch said nothing.

  Ancestor Zhao’s smile slowly faded.

  The stillness became heavy.

  His gaze sharpened.

  “…It was stolen?”

  “I—I don’t know,” the Patriarch answered in a lowered voice.

  The chamber instantly grew suffocating.

  “What do you mean,” Ancestor Zhao said, each word heavier than the st, “you don’t know?”

  The Patriarch’s back was already drenched in sweat.

  “When I went to check the sealed chamber where the manual was stored… it was still there.”

  His throat tightened.

  “But before I could even reach it—”

  “It vanished.”

  “…Right before my eyes.”

  Ancestor Zhao’s pupils contracted.

  “…Vanished?”

  His voice dropped into a dangerous whisper.

  “How did it disappear?”

  The Patriarch shook his head hurriedly. “I don’t know, Ancestor! The formation wasn’t broken. The seals weren’t disturbed. Nothing was touched… it just—disappeared!”

  Silence.

  Absolute silence.

  Impossible.

  He personally set a grand sealing formation…

  That formation isoted the manual completely—cutting it off from space, aura, and causality itself. Even a Mahayana Realm cultivator wouldn’t have enough power to steal it.

  Yet it disappeared.

  Ancestor Zhao’s eyes narrowed slightly as countless thoughts fshed through his mind.

  If that cultivation manual… is the key to summoning the False God…

  His fingers tightened subtly atop his knee.

  Then the true owner of that technique…

  A faint chill crept into his spine.

  “…is the False God himself.”

  The realization settled heavily in his chest.

  If his guess was correct, then there was only one expnation—

  The manual had not been stolen.

  It had been retrieved.

  By its rightful owner.

  Ancestor Zhao’s expression darkened.

  For a moment, even his steady cultivation aura wavered.

  Is he pnning to return again.

  Silence filled the chamber.

  His thoughts turned rapidly, calcuting, weighing possibilities.

  In one month, he would ascend.

  After centuries of cultivation, countless hardships, and rivers of blood, he was finally standing at the threshold of immortality.

  And now—

  This problem appeared.

  Ancestor Zhao closed his eyes slowly.

  Should I interfere… or not?

  If he investigated, he might provoke an existence beyond his current ability to handle. If he ignored it, the younger generation would be forced to face whatever storm was coming.

  His brows furrowed faintly.

  Then—

  He rexed.

  A quiet sigh escaped his lips.

  “…I am old.”

  His voice was calm, but resolute.

  “I seek ascension… not conflict with unknown horrors.”

  His eyes opened again, now completely tranquil.

  “This matter…” he said indifferently,

  “will be left to the younger generation.”

  The Patriarch froze. “A-Ancestor…?”

  Ancestor Zhao waved his sleeve dismissively.

  “If the False God truly walks this world again,” he said, tone detached,

  “then it is no longer a matter for someone who is about to leave it.”

  His gaze drifted upward, as if already looking beyond the heavens.

  “I will not risk my ascension… for a problem that does not belong to my era.”

  Silence followed.

  The Patriarch lowered his head, not daring to speak again.

  And deep inside—

  Ancestor Zhao had already made his decision.

  No matter what storms descended upon the world next…

  He would not be part of them.