Wow! Zhang Yuanqing was suddenly startled and immediately realized the seriousness of the situation. The current spiritual realm travelers are able to remain restrained largely due to the constraints imposed by their moral values. Even the most vicious evil professions must consider the consequences of their moral values dropping below sixty, thus opting for subtle, localized disruptions rather than bold, widespread actions. In short, the stability of modern society and the fact that the existence of spiritual realm travelers remains largely unknown to the general public are critically dependent on the presence of moral values. Imagine if capable individuals with supernatural abilities were constantly causing disturbances—then the imperial court would have no chance of concealing them. To return to the point: although the orderly and evil factions have been engaged in continuous conflicts, their overall coexistence has been made possible precisely because of the moral values. Otherwise, the evil professions would have to carry out far more disruptive actions. Now, consider that a high-ranking night-wanderer deity, a renowned ancient master who has also mastered the art of illusion magic, operates without any moral value constraints—this is truly alarming. The ancient tomb incident has escalated further—we must urgently inform Fu Qingyang and have him relay the message to the Hangzhou branch, if not directly to the headquarters. Taking a deep breath, Zhang Yuanqing asked, "Madam, what specific rank does your master hold?" The Lady of San Dao Mountains gently parted her red lips: "Golden Crane!" Master... Zhang Yuanqing sighed, realizing there was no longer any hope. During the Northern Song Dynasty, he was considered invincible. When a fellow disciple of the Golden Crane led the entire sect in a siege to seal him away, it came at a tremendous cost. Such power could not possibly be that of a Saint—definitely a Master! The Lady of San Dao Mountains said, "Need not worry too much. Though sealed for a thousand years, he is now extremely weak and unlikely to stir up significant waves in the near term. He will likely choose to remain dormant, quietly recovering." "Can he recover at all? Isn't there no more spiritual energy in the real world?" Zhang Yuanqing frowned. The Lady of San Dao Mountains glanced at him: "But as long as there are spiritual realm practitioners—such as yourself, a Star Official, or "With sufficient nourishment, one can recover swiftly." Isn't that precisely the technique of the eating stream practitioners from the late Song to early Ming dynasties? The primary targets of the Master of Pure Yang are illusionists and night-wanderers... Zhang Yuanqing felt heavy-hearted. The Lady of San Dao added a final cut: "Your master detests me deeply and will surely retaliate. By using the Subduing Demon Staff before him, you've now drawn his attention—be cautious from here on."... Zhang Yuanqing's expression went suddenly blank. He thought to himself: revealing my lineage as the heir of the Demon King doesn't seem like such a big deal after all. Evil organizations have targeted me, ancient demon lords have targeted me—I'm now at odds with the world at large. Seeing the once-cheerful young disciple now pale, the Lady of San Dao smiled faintly: "You're already burdened with karmic entanglements—this incident adds only one more thread." Her usually composed, clear face displayed a rare, slightly sly smile. Zhang Yuanqing sighed, "Lady, my fellow resident neighbors have also visited the ancient tomb. Would it be possible for me to go and see them?" "Upon hearing this, the elder bard turned her gaze toward the wall, a dreamlike glow of starlight shimmering in her clear, luminous eyes. A moment later, she shifted her gaze back and said, 'No need—she has not been taken over.' Zhang Yuanqing nodded. He didn't think the elder magistrate would be taken over either, since the swordmaster possesses a passive ability known as 'Steel Will,' which ensures strong resolve and mental resilience, while the Pure Yang Master is currently weakened and thus unlikely to succeed in taking over Guan Ya. Moreover, on the way back, Zhang Yuanqing had often found himself gently caressing the elder magistrate's buttocks and thighs while seated in the back row, taking advantage of the Queen and the young green tea not paying attention. If the Pure Yang Master had taken over Guan Ya, how could a master of such stature endure being so casually attended to by a young apprentice? Guan Ya might have managed, but the Master could not. The earlier anxiety had stemmed from a romantic perspective—instinctive, rather than rational. At this point, the elder bard asked, 'Do you know the Magus?' Upon uttering these words, she noticed the young man's breathing suddenly quickened, Zhang Yuanqing spoke solemnly: "This magus is bold and treacherous, committing every atrocity—plundering, raping, and oppressing without mercy. Though I have never personally seen him, I have heard his infamous reputation. Indeed, the person Bai Lan saw was none other than the magus." Hearing Master Yuan Shi's assessment of the magus, the Lady of San Dao recalled the princess' initial reaction and immediately grew serious. After hearing the second part of the statement, the old clog raised an eyebrow, saying, "Is it him? What is your relationship with him?" Zhang Yuanqing shook his head: "I have no connection with the magus. Moreover, the person Bai Lan encountered was not the magus at all, but someone who had assumed the magus' appearance. The true magus has already perished. With a master-level spiritual realm traveler's endorsement, this claim should be authentic and unchallengeable." The old clog nodded, not pressing further, and said, "Have your present-day official authorities issue a warrant for his arrest. Ideally, capture him before Pure Yang's Master fully recovers. You must proceed with caution—this man will not spare you. I am well aware of his "You've just made me take the blame like this? Zhang Yuanqing felt a chill run through his heart at her words. "As soon as you locate the trace of the Master of Pure Yang Sect, inform me immediately," the Lady of San Dao said solemnly, "For as long as my master lives, I shall not find peace in either sleep or meals." Just as she turned to return to the spiritual realm, Zhang Yuanqing called her back. "Wait—Lady, though I hold an official position, I remain honest and frugal, deeply devoted to the people. I have never engaged in corruption or excessive taxation." The Lady of San Dao frowned. "Speak clearly!" Zhang Yuanqing: "The materials required to summon you are quite expensive—I simply cannot afford them, and the court does not always cover the costs." The Lady of San Dao was momentarily stunned. It was precisely these yellow and white items—since her ascension to the Golden Crane rank, she had lived off the wind and dew, traveling the lands, treating gold and silver as mere trash. She had never realized that even now, with the Master of the Primordial Heaven present, silver was indispensable. After a moment's pause, she said, " "In the 'Taiyin Refining the Spirit' chapter, there is a scroll known as the 'Sundering Evil Scroll,' an advanced scroll drawn with the divine power of the Sun. I will teach you the art of scroll-making. From now on, you can create Sundering Evil Scrolls using the Sun's divine power stored within the Vumochu杵, and thus earn some silver." She said. "Successful! I'm so delighted!" Zhang Yuanqing bowed deeply in gratitude. "Thank you, Your Ladyship!" She nodded with satisfaction and then asked, "When will you return to the Spiritual Realm again?" "Within half a month." The old wooden figure paused for a few seconds. "I will give you several summoning scrolls. Whenever you return to the mortal world, you may use them to call me." Ah... Zhang Yuanqing felt a deep sense of reluctance in his heart. "I understand now." The Vumochu杵 would eventually have to be returned—it was no longer fair to hold onto the other's Yang essence indefinitely. If the old wooden figure were indeed a malevolent spirit, he might very well have kept the Vumochu杵 as a means of exploitation. Yet this reserved and … It was still half-light when Zhang Yuanqing sat by his desk, stretching lazily. On the desk lay a stack of thick yellow scrolls, their incantations flowing smoothly, the brushstrokes seamless and imbued with an indescribable Daoic grace—hand-drawn by the old budge. The trash can overflowed with crumpled yellow papers, each bearing fresh, wobbly red strokes—Zhang’s failed drafts. He had practiced all night, yet not a single piece had succeeded. A few had nearly made it, only to be rendered useless when Zhang’s hand trembled, causing the entire scroll to fall apart. This left the young prodigy of the Five Elements Alliance deeply disheartened. Yet the old budge remarked with quiet admiration that ancient cultivators had spent three years mastering the art of drawing talismans, while the Ling Realm now bestows upon you the innate gift of Linglu, enabling you to command a high-level talisman within days—or at most, a fortnight. "To ancient cultivators, cultivation was a lifelong endeavor, progressing slowly, allowing them ample time to study their own capabilities and develop a wide array of techniques. In contrast, for contemporary realm cultivators, surviving a monthly dungeon quest and a life-or-death solo dungeon every three months is already a feat of sheer endurance—there simply isn't time to refine their techniques." Thus, today's realm cultivators with exceptional talent can rise to become regional powerhouses within just a few years. Meanwhile, ancient cultivators who dedicate half their lives to rigorous practice may only attain the rank of a Saint—even under conditions when celestial and terrestrial spiritual energies remain abundant. Yet, while ancient cultivators enjoy relatively low mortality rates, realm cultivators face significantly higher mortality, leading to frequent turnover among mid- and lower-tier "talents" within just a few years. There is always a trade-off. Folding the yellow scroll back into the drawer, Zhang Yuanqing pressed his brows together, once again feeling the mounting frustration toward the Master of Pure Yang. "The Night-Wanderer is inherently a peak-tier profession. The Master of Pure Yang also possesses numerous elaborate spells and techniques, further enhanced by his training in the Illusionist profession—another peak-tier role. Yet, plagued by inner demons, he's often erratic, unpredictable, and operates without boundaries..." Zhang Yuanqing thought, wondering who could possibly endure all this! "As for me, I simply can't. I'll report to Fu Qingyang. When the sky collapses, let the taller ones bear the weight—let the elders deal with the fallout. Well, I'm also in danger—effectively taking on part of the karmic consequences for the old stickler. The advantage? My entanglement with her deepens." The deeper the karmic connections, the harder it becomes to sever ties. For instance, without the incident involving the Master of Pure Yang, their karmic bond would likely have been settled upon the return of the Immortal Staff. But now, with this new development, he won't be able to disentangle himself in the near term. He rose from his seat, transforming into a shimmering streak of starlight, and vanished into the bedroom. ... The Village of Silenced Speech. In the ancient tomb deep within the mountains, a golden light pierced through the earth's surface and streamed into the dimly lit underground palace. "Princess, Princess! That old witch has come again..." The jade doll standing in the alcove gave a crisp, startled cry and toppled over with a soft *plink*. The ghost mirror and the silver box of rouge in the adjacent alcoves trembled slightly. Princess Yin Yao drifted out of her jade coffin and stood beside her, gazing at the three mountain goddesses descending slowly into the dim light, and respectfully said: "Master! You've gone to the mortal realm? And that man who summoned you—was he Yuan Shi Tian Zun?" The three mountain goddesses gently settled to the ground, and the golden light faded. She nodded. "Indeed." Before Princess Yin Yao could speak, the old steward coldly interjected, "Do you still have any unfulfilled wishes here?" Princess Yin Yao's pale face paused, startled. "What do you mean?" The old steward replied, "Within the next half-month, I will find a way to have you leave the spiritual realm and serve Yuan Shi Tian Zun." "The master owes him a personal favor. Soon, he will face a crisis. You must protect him. As for the jade coffin matter, I shall not hold it against you." Yin Yao Princess stood motionless. ... Fu Family Village. It was just before dawn, five thirty in the morning—half an hour before the rabbit maidens were scheduled to begin work. Zhang Yuanqing went straight to the main master bedroom and raised his hand, knocking firmly on the door. Fu Qingyang had a habit—he was seriously ill, and his routines were extremely strict. The rabbit maidens were usually hesitant to disturb him during his rest hours, fearing reprimands. Zhang Yuanqing didn't want to inconvenience them. The rabbit maidens staying in the same floor opened their doors drowsily, peered out, and then quietly retreated upon seeing Yuan Shi Tian Zun. After a few seconds, the main bedroom door opened automatically, revealing a figure dressed in armor, standing at the threshold with an expression as cold and unyielding as if she wanted to knock him out. "Why didn't you call?" she said, speaking as though she intended to strike him down. Right next door, making a phone call—just walk in directly and you'll get there faster. Zhang Yuanqing said, "Boss, I've seen the Lady. There's something important I'd like to report." "Go to the study!" A cold voice came from within the armor figure. Zhang Yuanqing whispered, "I think we should talk now." The tone that had been, "I really want to beat you," now softened to, "I'd like to hear it out first before deciding whether or not to beat you," and said, "Come in. Wait in the outer hall." Zhang Yuanqing immediately entered the bedroom and took in the surroundings. Behind the door was a spacious outer hall, featuring an elegant guest sofa and coffee table at its center, with a cigar cabinet, wine cabinet, refrigerator, and potted plants along the walls. On the opposite side stood a bookcase filled with antiques and porcelain. Directly facing the bedroom door was a rounded window, in front of which stood a large desk. The outer hall could also serve as a study, though Fu Qingyang rarely used it to receive subordinates—apparently, it was reserved for visiting friends and family. Zhang Yuanqing sat by the sofa. Fifteen minutes later, Fu Qingyang, his hair neatly combed and freshly shaved, dressed in a crisp white suit, opened the door to the inner hall. He still carried a bit of star-struck reserve—Zhang Yuanqing thought to himself. "What's going on!" Fu Qingyang's expression was stern. Having woken up countless times in the dead of night to his phone calls, Fu Qingyang though he wasn't particularly pleased, he nonetheless found such matters quite ordinary. Zhang Yuanqing didn't dawdle—he launched straight into the point: "The Empress told me that Master Pure Yang hasn't died yet..." As soon as he finished the first part, Zhang Yuanqing noticed Fu Qingyang's face stiffen, then his pupils constrict. Though he quickly recovered, his expression grew notably serious. Fu Qingyang immediately settled into an office mode, his initial irritation fading. He hurried over to the sofa, sat down, and fixed his trusted subordinate with intense, focused eyes. "Please recount her words in full detail," he said. Zhang Yuanqing then repeated exactly what the old servant had said to Fu Qingyang. A first-tier day-traveling deity, also mastering the art of illusion magic, now mad with fervor, specializing in devouring travelers from the spiritual realm, unconstrained by moral principles—even Confident Fu Qingyang found himself momentarily disoriented, then felt restless. "The nature of this matter warrants a full assembly of the Ten Elders," Fu Qingyang's spirited brows were tightly furrowed. "The wine deity incident hasn't yet been resolved, and now another pure-yang abbot has fallen. This year truly seems to be one of constant upheaval." He rose quickly. "I'll head to the study; you're welcome to take your time." With that, he hurried out of the study. Well, the hot potato has been passed on—Zhang Yuanqing has successfully transferred the pressure to Fu Qingyang, and now feels both mentally and physically at ease. ... 9:30 a.m., Jiang Chen's apartment. Wearing a baseball cap and a mask, Zhang Yuanqing entered the building, took the elevator, and stopped at the door of apartment 608. "Knock, knock!" He gently tapped the door with his fingers. Soon, footsteps were heard behind the door. A fiery-haired woman opened it and asked in a foreign language, "Are you Mr. Yuanshi?" Zhang Yuancheng responded in the same foreign language, "Yes, I'm looking for Mr. Bill, whom I've arranged to meet." "He mentioned me," the woman said, stepping aside to make way. Zhang Yuancheng entered the room, passed through the foyer, and saw Mr. Bill—distinguished with a mature, masculine presence—sitting on a sofa, one knee resting on a laptop, either working or browsing online. "Please sit! Coffee or tea… oh, I see you prefer soda," Mr. Bill instructed the woman to fetch the coffee and pointed to the single sofa across from the one he was sitting on. "Where is Anne?" Zhang Yuancheng asked after settling into his seat. This was a spacious, two-hundred-square-meter floor plan, decorated in a classic Western style. "You may have misunderstood my relationship with Anne." Mr. Bill shook his head with a smile: "She's my assistant, that's all. Though I must admit Anne is incredibly attractive to men, my sense of reason tells me that freedom matters more." After a brief explanation, he got straight to the point: "What would you like to buy this time?" Zhang Yuanqing appreciated the foreigner's direct approach: "I'd like to buy ski boots." This visit had two clear objectives: first, to purchase ski boots, and second, to buy materials for making paper talismans. Of course, not for exorcising bad energies, but for love talismans, protective talismans, and thunder talismans. He planned to sell a portion of his exorcising talismans and his bronze tripod. The ski boots' life-saving capabilities were too strong—should he be attacked by the Master of Pure Yang in the future, having an additional means of survival would mean greater hope. "Are you ready to offer one hundred million?" Mr. Bill pondered for a few seconds. "Honestly, even if you're willing to pay one hundred million, I wouldn't sell it." Money is certainly important, but once it accumulates to a certain level, its value actually diminishes. "We also need to take inflation into account, while props never inflate. Master Yuan, if you can present me with props that satisfy me, I'll consider it."