The ancient Buddhist temple was under attack. With every tremor, the body of Master Wuhen shivered, and the cries and laughter echoing within his heart grew more intense. The spiritual contamination carried in the sounds could cause a Level 7 Sovereign to collapse emotionally, even go mad. Clearly, the sudden assault had disrupted his rhythm of digesting items and advancing toward semi-divinity. As the tremors intensified, the temple began to tear like a curtain, opening a gaping black crack that rapidly widened and spread, ultimately shattering the entire illusion—leaving only the golden Buddha, a symbol of Master Wuhen's inner state, standing unbroken. Only higher-level illusion masters could penetrate a master illusionist's realm. The Southern Sect's Master had arrived. After the temple vanished, a new illusion emerged—molten lava surged forth, bubbling with steam, its intense heat distorting the air. Master Wuhen found himself immersed in the searing lava. For a divine illusionist, the illusion was as real as reality; everything within it was as tangible and authentic as the real world. The na-i robe on the Formless Master melted, revealing his strong, solid frame. Then, his lower body carbonized in the molten stream, exposing white, dense bones that instantly turned red-hot. Despite the searing pain of the flames, the Formless Master's expression remained unchanged. With one hand he dragged his blackened heart, and with the other he reached out into the air, summoning a porcelain bottle filled with golden liquid. He lifted his head and drank the life essence, and as his nearly dissolving flesh began to glow, it rapidly repaired itself. This was a form of illusion—yet one that felt utterly real. The Formless Master continued to merge the black spheres, striving to act swiftly. When the molten flow proved ineffective, the gray sky suddenly burst with a sweeping downpour of fire, sending falling meteorites that struck the Formless Master with dense force. Yet he paid no attention, instead transforming a series of thick-walled earth barriers, each radiating a heavy, luminous glow—barriers so grand they seemed to belong only to the celestial realm—into a protective shield along the path of the falling meteors. These were not the true earth spirit powers, but rather defenses constructed entirely through illusion. "Boom... boom... boom..." The thick, solid defensive barriers shattered one after another under the impact of the meteor strikes, yet the meteor rain only reduced its intensity by one-third. Master Wuhen exhaled softly, then raised a hand and pointed: "All illusion will return to nothingness." The meteors that were about to crush him to dust vanished, dissolving into nothing. He then pointed toward the ground: "Even that will be nothingness." The churning lava extinguished, and the world settled into pure darkness. In the realm of illusion magic, the southern sect's master clearly outshone Master Wuhen, despite the fact that he had now begun to integrate half-divine artifacts and thus had to resort to the "Nothingness" technique to dissolve the illusions. In the endless darkness, a sharp blade of light emerged, like dawn breaking through the night. This beam of light surged forward—its source was a woman riding the wind on her sword, with a strikingly cold and elegant face, her thick white hair cascading like a blanket over her shoulders and back, and her eyelashes also white. The White Tiger Marshal! Of course, this too was an illusion. The White Tiger Marshal rode the blade light, charging straight toward Master Wuhen. Even from hundreds of meters away, the sharp sword energy had already pierced Master Wuhen, riddling him with wounds and leaving him bloodied. With one hand clutching his heart and the other swirling in the void, Master Wuhen manifested an elderly figure with silvery hair and a serene countenance. Yet this elder figure existed for only a single second before vanishing. This elder was the Sovereign of the Central Court—the highest-ranking among the five Masters—and Master Wuhen, despite his esteemed status, was not capable of conjuring him through illusion. In high-level illusion duels, illusions must adhere to two principles: first, they must follow real-world logic—what exists in reality can be freely manifested, while what does not exist in reality cannot be rendered through illusion. Second, if earth-based creatures are naturally defensive in the real world, then in the realm of illusion, earth-based creatures cannot possess high agility or high offensive power. Additionally, there is a limit based on the illusionist’s own rank—illusions can manifest beings and objects of the same level, but a peak Sovereign cannot conjure a semi-divine strength. At that moment, the White Tiger General arrived. At the crucial moment, Master Wuhen conceived the method to resolve the crisis. He manifested a rumpled quilt and covered himself with it. The magnificent sword aura surged like a flowing tapestry or a sweeping rainbow, carrying the thunderous force of a thousand-ton wave, brimming with the lethal energy to shatter all things, and struck full force against the quilt, igniting a breathtaking display of radiant swordlight and flame. Master Wuhen remained steadfast, wrapped in the quilt. A brave man's quilt! As a rule-based artifact of the Dominance phase, when the quilt is enveloped, it becomes impervious—no attack in the world can penetrate it, for this is the rule itself. The White Tiger General gazed deeply at the rumpled quilt before it dissolved and vanished. The illusion once again plunged into darkness. The Southern School Master ceased his attacks, as though he had abandoned the effort, now waiting for the expiration of the quilt's active period. The illusion must adhere to real-world logic: the manifested artifacts bear the same cost as their genuine counterparts. If Master Wuhen had remained concealed within the quilt indefinitely, upon the passage of Yet, the cotton quilt had only been used for four hours. "Lingtuo—will you not step forward?" A faint, resonant voice echoed from the darkness. The very next moment, a mighty surge of yin qi descended, condensing into vast, swirling masses of dark clouds that layered and rolled across the sky. Within the black clouds, countless grim faces of spirits emerged and faded, like shadows. The cries of the spirits reverberated throughout the entire realm. As soon as this night-wanderer, specializing in the Yin element, arrived, the entire realm transformed into a realm of spectral dread. Amidst the overwhelming, terrifying clouds, a bright, radiant full moon rose, its gentle light piercing through the cloud cover and spreading a silvery radiance. Bathed in moonlight, the spirits' energies surged dramatically. Their fierce, distorted faces broke through the clouds, and countless sharp claws swept across the sky, circling the head of Wuhen Master like hungry hyenas. The moonlight fell upon Wuhen Master, and the worn cotton quilt began to dissolve, as if melting into foam—hidden by the supreme power of the Yin. The ghostly figures emerging from the black clouds shrieked and surged downward, like a school of man-eating fish drawn to fresh blood, rushing in one after another. ... Let me gather my thoughts, let me gather my thoughts... Zhang Yuanqing sat at the stone table, his thoughts racing. According to the ancient ancestors' teachings, every profession ultimately represents a certain privilege within the game of Lingjing. Therefore, the musician's role corresponds to the program involving selling potions, distributing resurrection tokens, managing spring water sources, and refreshing NPCs. The scholar, in turn, is akin to each map's Keli, overseeing weapon crafting, synthesis, material drop rates, and so on. The merchant profession—clearly—represents the game's trading system, the Universal Marketplace, which, come to think of it, isn't nothing but the in-game stores! Each lawful, orderly profession controls a specific program. What privileges do the five elemental professions—Metal, Wood, Water, Fire, Earth—represent? And what about the Night Wandering Deity—what privileges does she manage? Zhang Yuanqing paused for a few seconds, then his eyes lit up. The prophecy of the Light Compass stated: When the sun, moon, and stars align, the gods long asleep in chaos will awaken. The king, seated upon the throne, will lead the gods to restart the war, ushering in a new cycle of the world. By combining this prophecy, one can clearly deduce the status of the Night-Wanderer among the administrators—indeed, a dog planner! A planner who brings the dog to version updates! It is well known that the third region has not yet launched. The prophecy of the Light Compass specifically refers to the planner's arrival, the version updates, and the opening of the third region. Then, all the lawful-aligned professions will take their positions and launch a war against the evil faction. So, what role does the evil faction play within the spiritual realm? Zhang Yuanqing had already figured it out at this moment—virus! The evil professions lack a half-divine stage, meaning they have no authority, no administrative privileges—thus, they are not administrators. In other words, they are foreign organisms. They are the virus! "Now I've unraveled most of the mysteries of the spiritual realm." The game Lingjing was born in ancient times, with the Nü Huang as its first administrator. Players—earth-based life forms—constantly upgraded and evolved within the game. Until one day, a wave of meteorite impacts struck Earth, bringing a virus that devastated the ecological balance of Lingjing, ultimately leading to Nü Huang's demise, the extinction of ancient cultivators, and the shutdown of the game itself. During this catastrophe, Nü Huang constructed a firewall that temporarily eradicated the virus, though not completely. The virus persisted deeply embedded within the Lingjing system, giving rise to the orderly and chaotic factions. Thus, the conflict between the orderly and chaotic factions is essentially a war between programmers and the virus. The purpose of the orderly professions is to gather administrative privileges scattered across various Lingjing instances, reclaim control of the game, and ultimately eliminate the virus. As for the chaotic professions, their mission becomes clear—prevent the emergence of administrators and take control of the game itself. Now, Zhang Yuanqing still has three questions unanswered: First, why would the evil professions invest in the Night Wandering Spirit? The Night Wandering Spirit is a lawful profession, naturally aligned with the administrators and opposed to the virus. Unless there's a deeper, hidden layer behind the Night Wandering Spirit profession. Second, who developed the Ling Jing game? Third, how did the virus originate? Thinking about this, Zhang Yuanqing glanced at Xie Laozu. "Don't look at me. The day you marry into the Xie family, have a child, and I'll then share all the information with you," the child said calmly. "Why does it keep coming back to children?" Zhang Yuanqing sighed. "When I have my own child, won't you then say, 'Wait until you have ten?' " "That won't happen," the child replied, extending his greasy hand and rubbing it gently on Zhang Yuanqing's shoulder. "When you and the Xie family's daughter have a child, I'll promise that your child will become the head of the Xie family—though they must bear the Xie surname. As for children born to you and other women, they may carry your surname." Zhang Yuanqing raised an eyebrow, finally realizing the old patriarch of the Xie family's true ambitions—he intended to leverage Zhang's bloodline to establish a branch of the Night-Wanderer Deity within the Xie family. After all, with Yuan Shi Tian Zun's exceptional talent, his descendants would surely produce Night-Wanderers, and the more children he had, the greater the number of Night-Wanderers would grow. Thus, the Xie family would amass a substantial number of Night-Wanderers, significantly strengthening its overall influence. Yet the old man proved remarkably open and sincere—his nature was generous and straightforward, sharing his most confidential matters without hesitation, far surpassing the enigmatic figures Zhang had encountered before. He deeply admired the old patriarch's character. This was indeed a half-divine worthy of deep friendship. With the secrets of the Spiritual Realm now unveiled, Zhang felt a great sense of contentment and no longer dwelled on his own peril. He raised his wine cup and said, "Patriarch, from now on, you shall be my ancestor. Let's drink!" When he eventually married the young green tea lady and the Palace Mistress, this patriarch would become a truly unshakable ancestor. Indeed, before He thought to himself. "By the way, Grand Ancestor, I heard that Master Xie Su is still in the Spiritual Realm, right?" Zhang Yuanqing hadn't forgotten his promise to the young green tea. "According to Ling Xi, the Palace of the Fate Deity shouldn't have been too difficult—there's also a quest guide. In theory, he should have already emerged by now. Isn't it possible that something unexpected happened, like a hidden quest?" Based on his experience, the Palace of the Fate Deity was already a conquered quest zone, and Master Xie Su was strong enough—so the only plausible explanation was that a hidden quest had been triggered. The Grand Ancestor replied calmly, "All things are possible." That's just so vague—Zhang Yuanqing muttered to himself. The hundred-year-old child chuckled. "As soon as you enter the quest, life and death are in the hands of fate. The best you can hope for is to survive. If you don't make it out, then that's destiny—no need to think about it. Just drink, drink." As one of the first travelers to the Spiritual Realm, he had witnessed countless such stories—seeing his beloved, children, and grandchildren At that moment, the two people raising their wine glasses turned their attention toward the courtyard gate. A hurried sound of high-heeled shoes approached, followed by Xie Qin's report: "Master, the head of the household has returned. He has an urgent matter to see you."