"You... " Ling Jun was about to speak when Yuan Shǐ Tian Zun gently pressed his hand and said in a calm tone, "Let's go inside. Victoria is here, isn't she?" Ling Jun took a deep breath to steady himself, then stepped forward and opened the door, inviting Yuan Shǐ Tian Zun in. It was just past lunchtime, and two female maids were busy—one clearing the kitchen, the other dusting the living room. Victoria appeared at the railing on the second floor, dressed in a purple nightgown, her chestnut hair loosely flowing over one shoulder. With her perfect oval face and refined, deeply expressive features, and her gentle blue eyes full of charm, she smiled softly from her elevated position. "Long time no see!" With such a beautiful, mature woman by her side, always thinking of picking up flowers and stirring up romance—what a waste! What a lousy man Ling Jun was! Zhang Yuanqing nodded slightly and said, "Victoria, Elder, could you help me arrange a private chamber protected by the Tai Yin energy?" The mature woman with chestnut hair studied him for a moment, then readily agreed, "No problem. But you'll need to learn to master these powers yourself." Zhang Yuanqing shrugged, "I've only just been promoted to Sovereign for less than a month." Ling Jun took another deep breath, suppressing his urge to ask questions, and sat down on the soft sofa, watching Victoria descend the stairs, pass through the living room, and head toward the basement. Since the Primordial Celestial Sovereign had requested a private, secure room, it meant that the matters to be discussed could not be made public. This implied that his mother's situation was of utmost importance. Ling Jun pulled out a cigarette, lit it, exhaled a plume of white smoke, and instructed the maid, "Please serve the guest a glass of iced cola." The maid set down her mop and walked toward the kitchen refrigerator. Zhang Yuanqing remarked in surprise, "When did you start smoking?" "For me, it's just a prop—specifically designed to fend off those elegant, melancholy, or effortlessly cool, 'bad boy' types of women." Of course, sometimes it truly helps me calm down. "Just take a half-smoke, and exhale that long trail of mist," he said, brushing off the ash. "For instance, right now..." He added, "You'd better stop stirring things up. I suspect that the Night Rose, the Divine Energy Guild, the Void Sect, and the Commander's Church are all preparing to target you. Your pace and level have become so formidable that even half-gods now find you intimidating. The unspoken rule remains—half-gods won't personally engage in battle, especially not to slaughter transcendents, saints, or masters. Even if they step in, they'd have to deploy their peak-level masters, and then even a hundred of you would be wiped out for sure. That's the unspoken rule: half-gods are not allowed to personally fight and slaughter transcendent, saint, or master-level beings. Though the evil-aligned Waywalkers blend in well, if a half-god steps in, they're actually quite easy to locate—take, for instance, the Sky Eye of the New Covenant Province. If that half-god were to take charge, the rule-based costs might even compromise their vision. Then what would become of the evil professions This follows the same logic as nuclear deterrence in the real world. Zhang Yuanqing nodded. "The battle between the chaotic and the lawful forces is drawing near. Even if my ascension pace is astonishing, in the eyes of the half-gods, I'll still just be a talented prodigy who happened to be born at the wrong time. Of course, if I succeed in mirroring the Marshal's path and reach the peak of the Sovereign rank within six months, my standing will change significantly." Ling Jun studied him for a while, then sighed: "Whether it's the battle between good and evil, or whether I succeed in mirroring the Marshal—either way, it doesn't concern me at all. I'm merely a Saint. My life has been unremarkable: eating, drinking, enjoying leisure, and sleeping with women. That's all." Zhang Yuanqing took a sip of cola and suddenly said, "You've grown close to Victoria because you're missing maternal love, haven't you?" Ling Jun was deeply surprised: "You're not making this up, are you?" "I'm just as much in need of it." Ling Jun was stunned: "That's why we've always gotten along so well." Zhang Yuanqing laughed heartily, though he quietly sighed within. Ling Jun lost his mother at a young age and endured mistreatment from his older brothers. As he grew older, he lived with his grandfather, feeling like a guest in his own home. Victoria was the only light of his childhood. Beneath Ling Jun’s laid-back exterior lay a deeply cautious heart—he had never felt cherished or supported, so he dared not assert himself, only pretending to be carefree. Over the years, he gradually lost motivation in his career and advancement, lacking Fu Qingyang’s bold determination and noble spirit—his resolve to move forward even when thousands followed him, or when all others seemed to trail behind him. Ling Jun would likely remain stagnant, drifting through life in a relaxed, comfortable rhythm of eating, drinking, enjoying leisure, and spending time with women, unless something stirred him to reignite his passion. All of this analysis stemmed from the innate qualities of the Void-Weaver. In ancient times, the Void-Weaver was known as the "Heart Demon," capable of sensing the most authentic emotions of a target, uncovering their deepest fears, and revealing their most sincere feelings—this was the very essence of the Heart Demon’s gift. According to the Lady of San Dao Mountain, ancient cultivators, from transcendent beings to sovereigns, and then from sovereigns to human immortals, all had to undergo celestial calamities. Heart demons particularly loved to exploit the vulnerabilities of ancient cultivators during their celestial trials. When Zhang Yuanqing had nearly finished drinking the ice-khao elixir, Victoria returned from the basement and said, "The space is ready. When the door is opened, the spell remains in an open state and is not protected by the Yin Moon; when the door is closed, the spell activates." With that, she lazily stretched her back and walked upstairs in her cotton slippers. Ling Jun immediately rose and said, "I'll take you there." Victoria's basement was much cleaner and more well-organized than Zhao Elder's. The floor and stairs were made of elm wood, occupying a space of over forty square meters, with tools for maintenance, clean brooms and mops, and spare household items neatly stored. Old furniture and items of little value—what noble households would typically discard—were simply left out, never piled up at home. "This way..." Ling Jun led him through the basement to a small room on the left, where the Taiyin protection actually took place. The door, walls, and floor were inscribed with black spiritual scroll patterns. Zhang Yuanqing carefully examined these array designs and noticed they were somewhat different from those drawn by Elder Zhao, yet remarkably similar—sharing the same core but with more flexible, varied appearances. Did the Taiyin array have different methods of inscription? Or was it sufficient to correctly draw just the core elements, with the finer details left to personal interpretation? Zhang Yuanqing quietly noted this down, intending to ask Elder Bang later. Ling Jun eagerly closed the door, turned to him, and looked intently, asking in an urgent tone, "What is it you've come to see me about today? Why did you mention my mother?" Zhang Yuanqing settled himself cross-legged, then pulled out a compact black speaker from his pants pocket. He placed it before him and asked, "Do you know what this is?" Ling Jun shook his head. "This is the Magus's relic. Though not of high rank, it's exceptionally unique—it's a device that cannot be stored in your inventory and must always be carried with you." Zhang Yuanqing introduced the Cat King speaker: "The Magus used it to record his inner thoughts, hoping to awaken his future, fallen self through the kindness of his past self, thus resisting the encroachment of the Decaying Holy Cup. Since it's always with him, it inevitably captures some content that requires payment..." At this point, Zhang Yuanqing gave the Cat King speaker a solid slap: "Now, the audio segment we discussed last night can be played." "Zzzz..." A deep voice emerged from the speaker: "I performed for her, and she refused to pay. Then it's not a sale at all!" "What does that mean?" Ling Jun glanced at the speaker, then looked puzzled at Yuan Shǐ Tian Zūn. Zhang Yuanqing shook his嘴角: "It's subtly criticizing our attempt to enjoy the service for free. Take out your phone and play a song for it." "Linjun listened, pulling out his phone while asking, 'What kind of music does it like?' 'Gusong.' 'It's still just a baby,' Linjun chuckled, opening the music app and playing a children's battle song. The song ended quickly. Linjun put his phone away, eyes full of anticipation, gazing at the cat king speaker. 'Buzz... buzz...' A moment of static followed, then a sharp, high-pitched voice emerged from the speaker: 'Little troublemaker, push on, push on, I'm nearly out of breath...' Linjun looked up at Zhang Yuanqing, bewildered, tears welling up, asking, 'You made such a big deal running all the way to Beijing just to share the audio of the magical king and the woman having intimate moments?' Don't you find that woman's voice familiar? Zhang Yuanqing thought to herself. The joyful sounds continued, and the magical king's hoarse laughter came through: 'Mother, you're just like Teng'er—so unyielding. Hasn't your husband found any new companions since he returned to the spiritual realm?' Linjun's expression suddenly froze. He stared at Zhang Yuanqing with a vacant expression, while Zhang calmly returned the gaze. The sharp, resounding blows echoed between them. Swift as the wind, sudden as rain, aggressive as fire, and piercing as a tidal wave of screams. Ling Jun lunged toward the Cat King speaker, his face contorted as if it were his father—or even his mother—being slain. Zhang Yuanqing suddenly threw him to the ground, subduing him with the strength of a sovereign. Ling Jun refused to yield, shouting, "Are you here to humiliate me?!" Zhang hurried to soothe him, "Don't worry, don't worry—there's more to come." As soon as the words fell, the Cat King speaker emitted the magus's lewd chuckle: "Mother, hear from Teng'er—she says she has an aunt. You're so beautiful, I'm sure that sister would also find you appealing." Ling Jun was furious, "You're still mocking my mother? That's what you call business?" "Stay calm, stay calm!" Zhang Yuanqing soothed, "You should not be so furious just over involving your family..." But when he realized that even this didn't provoke any outburst, he found himself unable to speak further, instead choosing to physically quiet his companion. Eventually, after a fresh round of physical exertion, the four figures—both in audio and in reality—heard their mother-in-law's sigh through the speaker: "My sister was the wife of the head of the Taiyuan Sect. She returned to the spiritual realm just one year after giving birth, and the Sect officially declared her death in the spiritual realm. But I believe her passing was far from ordinary." Upon hearing this, Ling Jun's body, which had been struggling so fiercely, went rigid. In the audio feed, the魔 king asked, "How so?" "Well, she did indeed begin to rapidly progress toward the spiritual realm during that period. But—well—before she entered the spiritual realm, she actually had a phone call with me." She said she had discovered a terrible secret... her sister hadn't told her exactly what it was, only instructing her that, should the day ever come when her sister met with an untimely fate, she must take good care of Ling Jun and raise him properly. "Why didn't you tell this to your father?" "I'm afraid it involves the Master of the Taiyuan Sect." At this point, Zhang Yuanqing climbed up from Ling Jun's body, gave a light tap on the top of the cat king speaker, and the audio instantly stopped—there was no need for Ling Jun to hear the subsequent scenes of the magi king infusing the life essence into his aunt's body. "That's the full account," Zhang Yuanqing said. Ling Jun sat in stillness, his gaze fixed and vacant, lost in a state of dazed bewilderment: "Her death is connected to the Master of the Taiyuan Sect..." Though he had little affection for his stallion father, even harboring deep resentment toward him, he could not accept the idea that his father might have been responsible for his mother's death—such a cruel possibility. At the same time, the very fact that his mother might have been "No, no..." Ling Jun shook his head vigorously, his voice growing more excited, "My mother died in the Spirit Realm. I remember Zhao Elder was there at the time, personally witnessing the event—there are video recordings and servants who can also confirm it. Moreover, that period was indeed the exact moment when she entered the realm." As the wife of the Grand Master of Taimei Sect and the daughter of the Senior Elder, the significance of her return to the Spirit Realm demanded thorough verification and deep investigation—there was no way it could be overlooked. "Calm down!" Zhang Yuanqing sensed Ling Jun's turbulent emotions and quickly helped him regain composure—his initial reluctance to calm him down was simply his own sense of amusement, wanting to watch Ling Jun feel embarrassed and flustered. Once Ling Jun's emotions settled, Zhang Yuanqing got straight to the point: "My mother left behind a personal item, which I have obtained. I won't tell you what it is, nor will I show it to you. You'll know absolutely nothing about it—this is the safest arrangement, equally beneficial for both you and me." "Then, what brings you here?" "That thing can only be opened with a key—it's related to the Wood Spirit occupation. Think carefully. Before your mother returned to the Spirit Realm, did she ever tell you anything special? Or go through all the memories you have about her?" Zhang Yuanqing was about to say outright: the techniques for cultivating spiritual plants. But he couldn't reveal any more details—too much information would inevitably alter the course of Ling Jun's future. Ling Jun chuckled softly, "My aunt mentioned that already—she returned to the Spirit Realm the year after giving birth to me. I was only two years old, still breastfeeding… I hardly remember her at all." He paused to reflect, then shook his head. "She didn't leave me any particularly significant heirlooms. Either my grandfather took them away, or the Taimei Sect disposed of them." Ling Jun had no heirlooms at all—nor even the ability to communicate with his mother. Zhang Yuanqing wasn't ready to give up. "Try again?" Linjun thought seriously for a moment, then shook his head again: "I can't figure it out. Even if she leaves the key, it probably wouldn't involve me at all. But if my mother actually leaves the key, I think it might be at the Miao family. My grandfather, my uncle, and my aunt—any one of them could be the one. I'll take you there right now." Without waiting for Zhang Yuanqing to object, he suddenly exhaled in a way that suggested he had given up: "No, if this has anything to do with the 'seeded stallion' tradition, revealing it to the Miao family would only bring about a complete disaster." Zhang Yuanqing's mind stirred. The secret lay within the seeds—the seeds themselves were the key. The cultivation method was actually secondary; what was secondary was its significance within the 'destiny.' If someone knew the cultivation method but was unaware of the existence of the seeds, then there would be no causal relationship between the two. Only when someone knew both the cultivation method and the existence of the seeds would their connection become evident in the long river of destiny. That is to say, Lingjun’s mother is likely to share the cultivation method with her relatives. Lingjun, after all, is no night-wanderer deity and doesn’t fully grasp the subtleties of this art. Zhang Yuanqing hadn’t planned to tell him either, so he stood up and said, “I’ll continue investigating this matter. Just treat it as if you know nothing about it—don’t even try to investigate. As soon as you take any action, the Observing Stars technique will sense it. Since you’re from the Taomin Sect, you should understand that principle. I’ll keep you posted once I have any updates.” With that, he picked up the Cat King speaker, tucked it into his pocket, and headed toward the door. Lingjun took a deep breath, suppressed all his emotions, and forced himself not to think about it, just about to rise to see him off, when a soft hum of electricity came from inside the Master’s pocket: “Only mom is good, her child is like a treasure…” Was that object comforting him? Lingjun felt a warm glow in his heart. Then the audio changed to: “Duck manure, really—” “Sorry, it’s a Zhang Yuanqing gave his trouser pocket a firm slap, opened the door, and dissolved into starlight. ... At the maternal home, in the bedroom. The duplicate Zhang Yuanqing suddenly appeared, placed the Cat King speaker on the desk, and then vanished. An invisible hand reached out and took the speaker. With the companion moon spirit worn and entering nocturnal mode, Zhang Yuanqing pulled out his phone and played "It Shouldn't Be About Feeling" on the Cat King speaker. After the song ended, he said solemnly, "I want to listen to all the audio recordings of the Mage King and the mother of Teng'er." He suspected that the cultivation method might lie within the members of the Miao family. The Miao elder has few descendants, and with the passing of Miao Fengling, there are only three children in total. In an era where peak dominators and half-gods—mostly stallions—actively reproduce and propagate offspring, this stands out as a refreshing exception. Given the Mage King's longstanding hostility and keen interest toward the Taiyuan Sect, he would surely investigate the cause of the mother of the Miao family's passing and her personal belongings. Moreover, considering the mother of Teng'er's deep emotional dependence "Buzzzz…" The King Cat speaker emitted its familiar hum: "You've been constantly demanding ever since morning—do you really want me to conceive?" A delicate scolding came through the speaker, from the "aunt."