"The Blaze and the Shadow"—these five characters seemed like a spell incantation. The golden Buddha opened his half-lidded eyes, eyes that embodied the world's most impure and chaotic essence—concretized forms of "evil," as if thousand-year-old malevolent spirits from hell were gazing upon humanity. By instinct, the people in the hall lifted their gaze to meet the Buddha's. Boom! Everyone's thoughts exploded—memories, thoughts, emotions all scrambled. Blood poured from their eyes, ears, mouths, and noses. The members on the cushions tumbled in all directions, clutching their heads in agonizing cries. "Om Mani Padme Hum..." At the crucial moment, Master Wuhen remained composed, his single chant resonating throughout the hall. The golden Buddha's eyes slowly closed, returning to their half-lidded state. This chant possessed the power to calm chaos and heal wounds, instantly easing the intense headaches of all present. The desperate cries gradually softened into gasps. The Master of Unseen Trace gently waved his hand, and one by one, the members faded like scenes erased by a rubber eraser, leaving only Zhang Yuanqing behind. ... In the large suite on the second floor of the hotel, the figures of all the members simultaneously reappeared, returning to their original seats. Everyone sat slumped on the lounge chairs, gasping heavily, pale as travelers who had just escaped from a tiger's jaws. "What's going on?" Lin Chong, the head instructor, stumbled to his feet, his face conveying the expression of an apocalyptic event, shouting, "The Buddha has opened its eyes! The Buddha has opened its eyes! Has the Master lost control?" The others shared equally anxious expressions, their eyes fixed on the gloomy "Pot Aunt"—no, Fang Aunt. She was a Level Six Dream-Weaver, of the same profession as the Master. If the Master had indeed lost control, she would have sensed it. Fang Aunt remained composed, her face stern, and said coldly, "What's there to be afraid of? If the Master had lost control, we wouldn't be here, would we?" "Heard that, everyone's expressions slightly improved. The young nun whispered, 'But the master's statue truly opened its eyes—this has never happened in over ten years.' 'This indicates the master was on the verge of losing control,' said Master Yang, his tone more serious than ever before. Why did the master lose control? 'It was Yuan Shi Tian Zun,' the straightforward middle-aged man offered, a strange smile playing on his lips. 'What did the young man say to the master? Not an apology—specifically, not the very last words.' Everyone in the room stared at one another, clearly puzzled and confused, seeing the same bewilderment in their companions' eyes. 'No, no,' said Kou Beiyue, rubbing her head. 'All I heard was that he offered the master an opportunity for repentance. Oh, an opportunity for repentance—has Yuan Shi Tian Zun gone mad?' The others ignored the teenager's rambling. Aunt Fang said solemnly, 'The very last words spoken by Yuan Shi Tian Zun were wrapped in a magical illusion. The person who performed the illusion is of a higher rank than mine—therefore, it's perfectly normal that you couldn't hear them.' Yet it couldn't be denied that those words had nearly sent the master into a state of chaos. "So, exactly what did he say?" Chen brother widened his eyes. No one could answer him, as this was precisely what everyone had been wondering about. "Won't the master be in danger? Does the official side have a plan against us?" Zhao Xintong, though young, was exceptionally skilled at reading malice into others' intentions. "Not at all!" Yang elder shook his head. "The official side won't allow Yuan Shi Tian Zun to meet his end." The group fell silent, each one quietly recalling the scene just before the master's moment of crisis, trying to remember the master's mouth movements—yet Yuan Shi Tian Zun's position was so far forward that everyone could only see his back, not his face. After a long while, the strikingly beautiful bank teller murmured, "Today's truly interesting—Yuan Shi Tian Zun turns out to be a more volatile threat than we expected, and he's been preparing all along, holding back his strongest move to reveal it to the master." "Xiao Yuan, you've known him the longest and are most familiar with him. Do you know what's going on Everyone turned their attention to Xiao Yuan. Since leaving the temple, her brows had remained furrowed. After a moment's thought, she said, "His mental state is indeed problematic—he's particularly passionate and outspoken, but it should not be this extreme. Perhaps..." Pausing, she sighed, "I haven't gone into detail about what happened in the quest. He was possessed by the boss within the quest and had to pay a tremendous price to reverse the situation..." Xiao Yuan then recounted the events of the quest in a steady, flowing manner. The others listened silently. These details had already been known to Kou Beiyue, who had grown indifferent and no longer paid attention. He glanced around and noticed the plump young man hunched in the corner, arms wrapped around his knees, as if abandoned by the world—no, as if deliberately choosing not to draw attention. "Just treat me as if I've already died," said the plump young man, his voice full of sorrow. "Social death is still a form of death. When you experience social death somewhere, the best thing to do is to move on to another place and build a new life." "Oh, then go ahead." "Huh? Boss, aren't you going to hold me back?" "No need. I'll pass on your past stories to the Black Market later. When you too experience social death in the Southern Sect, you'll come back on your own." "...So you've always been playing the role of the Fire Master, haven't you? You're actually a cunning, persuasive spirit of the Gǔ Huò kind." "You're silly. I've always been a spirit of persuasion from the start." ... A serene, ancient Buddhist hall, quiet and refined. Zhang Yuanqing gasped for breath, beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks. He kept breathing heavily for a long time until his erratic heartbeat gradually calmed and the sensation of his soul being torn eased. Finally finding strength to speak, he took a deep breath: "Master, do you still remember the Xiao Yao Organization?" "Amen "Master Wuhen's voice was low and tinged with pain, 'How did the disciple learn of my past?'" This temple is a manifestation of Master Wuhen's inner state—the temple's movements and stillness reflect his emotions. After saying this, Zhang Yuanqing suddenly felt bold and fearless. "My father was Master Zhang, the Celestial Master. He passed away when I was just starting elementary school, and I had very little memory of him. It wasn't until I became the Night-Wanderer Spirit and joined the official organization that I found myself, by chance, at the zoo. My spirit artifact mistook me for Master Zhang based on my bloodline." "I checked the official archives and learned about the Xiao Yao organization. Recently, there have been a series of incidents in Songhai—General Zhang executed the chief protector of the Night Rose Order, who turned out to be the former head of the Tai Men Sect, Shanhé Yongchun. The official organization now knows that Lingtuo is the leader of the Night Rose Order." "So I went to the zoo and revealed my identity to the spirit artifact. It didn't remember what happened back then, but it told me about you—you are the most enigmatic Shadow Son." "Having said all this at once, Zhang Yuanqing straightened his back and leaned forward slightly, "Master, I've come today to ask you about your past. What exactly did you four do in 1999?" The hall fell into complete silence. For a long time, Master Wuhen held his hands in prayer, softly reciting mantras: "Amida Buddha! It's truly a long-lost friend's son." Zhang Yuanqing bowed deeply, hands clasped, head lowered: "Please, enlighten me." "Master Zhang, the past has long since faded into memory like mist—why cling so tightly to it?" Wuhen sighed. "Knowing so much, what good does it do you?" Zhang smiled wistfully. "Master, someone told me that my father left me something when he passed. I believe it was a core fragment of the Light Compass. I am now deeply embedded in this situation. If I cannot understand both myself and my surroundings, I may never know how I will meet my end. "Master, for the sake of my father's friendship, and for the sake of our own bond, please tell me." He and Master Wuhen shared The Formless Master remained silent for a long time, then spoke slowly: "The image you saw in the mirror just now was the most authentic version of you. There were no core fragments of the Compass of Light within you." "Master, during my high school years, the Compass fragments suddenly began to malfunction—my soul was torn apart." Before he could finish, the Master interrupted, his tone filled with seriousness and confusion: "What did you just say?" "I said the Compass fragments tore my soul apart." "The Compass fragments do not have that capability." Zhang Yuanqing was taken aback. "Y-you-you—" His expression suddenly became animated, and his voice turned into a question: "The Compass fragments cannot tear my soul apart? How is that possible? You just saw it yourself—the soul has indeed been mended. This information came from someone closest to me. She wouldn't deceive me. We are people who can trust each other with our lives." "Overcome by emotion, he shifted from a seated to a kneeling posture, leaning forward with his gaze fixed steadily on the master's back. Master Wuhen's tone remained unchanged: "It will not tear the soul of anyone, Yuanshen. The core fragment of the Light Compass is not within you. Your soul's concerns stem from elsewhere." Zhang Yuanqing slumped back in his seat, defeated: "Then, what is the cause..." "I do not know," said Master Wuhen. After a brief silence, he spoke softly: "Back then, our four of us used the fragments of the Light Compass to open a mysterious passage leading deep into the spiritual realm. There, we discovered the truth of the spiritual world—a truth that left us utterly despairing. "We did not stay long enough to dwell upon it, and returned to the real world using the compass fragments. That journey caused a rift among us. Lingtuo believed we should reveal this to the public, while Master Zhang thought that doing so would only instigate panic and ultimately lead to the collapse of societal structures." "Before we even reached a conclusion, something even more pressing occurred—we were cursed. A dreadful curse, one that the divine power of the Sun God, renowned for purifying all things, cannot eradicate. We've searched tirelessly for its origin, examining both our spiritual and physical states, yet found no trace of fault. Yet our bodies are steadily deteriorating, inching closer to decay." Zhang Yuanqing, his expression composed, gradually regained his focus and boldly speculated, "Is it a curse from the spiritual realm?" "Not exactly from the spiritual realm, though it could be said to stem from it," Master Wuhen replied. "At first, we were completely unaware of the curse. When Chu Shang and Ling Tu returned to their families and monasteries, they combed through all available records, but found no solution to overcome it. It was only through Ling Tu's experiment that we truly came to understand the nature of the curse." "What experiment?" Zhang Yuanqing asked. "Ling Tu revealed the deepest secrets of the spiritual realm to a commoner. As a result, that person immediately fell under the curse and died under mysterious circumstances." "The Master of Silent Footsteps sighed, 'The curse is one we brought from the depths of the Spiritual Realm. When we first learned the truth about the Realm, the curse fell upon us. Anyone who comes to know the truth will be cursed.' Zhang Yuanqing thought for a moment, then asked cautiously, 'Have you tried telling the Half-Gods?' 'Li Tu attempted it—he told the Grand Master of Taiyuan Sect.' So, it doesn't work on the Half-Gods? Zhang Yuanqing sighed, 'Then, I still haven't earned the right to know the secrets hidden deep within the Spiritual Realm, have I?' The Master of Silent Footsteps remained silent. At least, there's been some gain... Zhang Yuanqing pressed her fingers gently against her brow, pondering for a long time, then said, 'You've sat here in stillness for over a decade—was that all to resist the curse?' The Master of Silent Footsteps nodded slightly. 'The curse shares the very nature of evil professions. As it deepens, I find myself gradually losing control over my innate qualities. Each day, I am tormented by an insatiable hunger for blood, suffering greatly.' Upon hearing this, Zhang Yuanqing Not at the Buddha, but at this master. After decades of opposing his instincts and enduring suffering, this perseverance and composure he himself can only admire. Zhang Yuanqing continued to ask: "Do you know how Lingtuo died? Why didn't Chu Shang use the mother goddess's womb to revive Lingtuo?" The master of Wuhen remained silent for a moment, his low voice echoing throughout the hall: "Because Lingtuo, it was the three of us who killed him."