Xiahou Aotian said calmly, "Miss, don't be surprised—just a little joke from me. Here in this remote mountain village, it's rare to have company, so my words have been a bit casual. I hope you won't mind." He used a damp, dry branch to stir the embers, sending sparks flying, and said, "Come over and warm yourself by the fire—don't catch a cold." Only then did the graceful lady ease her expression, politely thanking him, and sit down by the fire. The rain continued steadily, the clouds piled one upon another, dimming the sky until it seemed like night. After warming herself for a while, the lady gradually grew warmer and her complexion turned rosy. Xiahou Aotian glanced at the basket, which contained ordinary herbs—some for treating bruises and sprains, others for wind-cold and coughs, and still others for clearing phlegm and nourishing the lungs. S-tier quests should feature rare and precious materials, right? Yet here were only common herbs! Xiahou Aotian murmured his disappointment to himself. "Is Miss from one of the nearby villages, a herbalist?" Xia Hou Ao Tian stepped forward and began the conversation: "In the remote mountains and wilderness, there are wild beasts even if there are no bandits. How can you, a mere woman, manage to enter the mountains to gather herbs?" The woman sighed. "My father fell and broke his leg a few days ago while gathering herbs. There are still two younger brothers and sisters at home who need to be supported. So I've had to come into the mountains to collect herbs and earn some silver." Xia Hou Ao Tian then asked, "Are there any wealthy relatives in your family?" The woman shook her head. Xia Hou Ao Tian nodded once, paused for a few seconds, and then suddenly pointed behind her. "Look there!" The woman instinctively turned around. Seizing the moment, Xia Hou Ao Tian raised the mechanical crossbow, aimed it at the woman's chest, and released the trigger. "Crack!" The bowstring resonated clearly, and the arrow plunged deeply into the woman's chest, spreading blood rapidly across her garments. The young woman turned her head in disbelief, gazing at Xia Hou Ao Tian, then collapsed, her eyes wide open, lifeless. Xiahou Aotian took the herbs from the woman's basket and placed them into his own. Once they reached Chang'an, he would exchange them for some money. His reasoning for killing the woman was simple: the town was only a day's journey from Chang'an, and since entering Chang'an was a side quest, there would surely be dangers along the way. Within that single day's journey, every NPC he encountered might be a hidden enemy. By eliminating the woman early, he neutralized the threat before it even began. If he made a mistake, she was merely a regular quest NPC—she would simply respawn next time. The only thing he needed to verify was that killing a young girl wouldn't inadvertently trigger a crisis. Thus, he had just asked the girl's family whether they had any wealthy relatives, and received a negative answer. Solid as a dog! As he was thinking this, a knock came—two distinct taps—startling and eerie in the quiet rain. Then, a soft, gentle voice from outside announced: "Sir, I am a local herbalist who came into the mountains to gather herbs. The rain came suddenly, and I've come to seek shelter in the temple." A soft, melodic voice came from outside. The voice was identical to that of the young woman he had just slain—down to the exact words. Xue Hou Ao Tian's face slowly went stiff. He sharply turned to the girl he had shot, only to find her body gone. At that moment, the woman outside spoke: "Is anyone inside? I would like to enter." A cold sensation surged through Xue Hou Ao Tian's heart. He fixed his gaze on the hall doors, gripping the crossbow tightly. He had anticipated the woman to be a threat on his journey to Chang'an—but he hadn't expected the young woman who had been shot to appear again. "Knock, knock, knock..." The knocking continued. The woman asked once more, "Master, is Master inside? I would like to enter." "Seeing that Xiu Hou Ao Tian remained silent inside the hall, the woman outside grew increasingly anxious, her tone growing urgent and even strained with urgency: 'Open the door! Why won't you open it? I know you're inside, you haven't left yet. If you don't open it, I'm going to walk right in!' You just came in yourself a moment ago, didn't you? Xiu Hou Ao Tian muttered under his breath, his back hairs standing on end. 'Why won't you open the door? Why treat me this way? Why treat me this way...' The woman outside's cries grew more desperate, losing the earlier softness and grace. Clang! Clang! Clang! The doors and windows shook violently, emitting a continuous series of sharp sounds, as if a crowd had gathered outside. 'You've killed me!' the young woman outside said, her voice full of resentment. Xiu Hou Ao Tian tightened his body, aiming his crossbow directly at the hall door—should the woman dare to enter, he would send her a piercing arrow. Then, the shaking of the doors and windows ceased, and the hall outside fell into stillness, save for the steady rain falling softly." The young girl outside seems to have gone. Gone? Afraid of being shot again by me? Hmm, I must move quickly—can't stay here any longer! Xiu Hou Ao Tian immediately rushed toward the thin horse, determined to leave this strange, dilapidated temple right away. As he approached the horse, he suddenly felt something moving inside the basket—something long and furry. The light was dim, so Xiu Hou Ao Tian stepped closer and looked closely. There, inside the basket, was a woman's head, her back facing him, gently pulsing. Upon sensing someone watching, the head snapped around sharply, revealing a pale, ashen face with blood flowing from all seven orifices, her lips blackened, and her eyes—pale and unnerving—fixed straight upon Xiu Hou Ao Tian. "You have killed me..." a bitter, piercing voice echoed. Xiu Hou Ao Tian's heart tightened; he stepped back, feeling every hair on his body stand up, his fear overwhelming. But just a few steps behind, he collided with something solid. Startled, he turned around in panic—his pupils contracted, his heart momentarily stopped. Behind him lay a lifeless body, dressed exactly like the young girl he had just seen. Xiu Hou Ao Tian's adrenaline surged, his scalp tingling; instinctively, he raised his mechanical crossbow and fired an armor-piercing arrow at the headless figure. The arrow struck the body's chest. Yet, the body—already dead—showed no reaction. Instead, it lifted its right hand, adorned with dark nails, and pressed it firmly against Ao Tian's neck, lifting him off the ground. Ao Tian's legs kicked wildly in the air, his face turning red from lack of oxygen, his eyes bloodshot, his tongue slowly protruding. The strength of the headless woman was extraordinary; with his current physical condition, he could not withstand even a fraction of it. From the basket on the horse behind him, a piercing, resentful voice rose: "You killed me! You killed me!" Ao Tian's consciousness began to fade, his kicking legs growing increasingly weak. At that moment, a cool sensation reached his thumb—like a bucket of cold water, like a block of ice—sending a shiver through his very soul. Xiahou Aotian suddenly "realized" — why hadn't I resisted? Why was I so afraid of a mere corpse? Why hadn't I used the items from my inventory? Only then did he realize he had been caught in a spell. It was only a spell that could transform a Spirit Realm traveler into a trembling, emotionally overwhelmed ordinary person, one whose calm judgment and rationality had been lost. The force emanating from his ring had broken the spell. This was precisely the spell's weakness — as long as a third-party force intervened, the spell would collapse on its own. Xiahou Aotian snapped awake, discovering he had fallen asleep beside the charcoal fire without realizing it. Outside, the wind was fierce and the rain relentless, while the lean horse stood quietly by the fire, its head bowed, occasionally snorting softly. There had been no knock at the door, nor any women inside the hall. Everything that had just happened seemed like a dream. Yet the pain in his neck told him it wasn't — he had indeed entered a trance, nearly suffocating himself in the dream. "Old fellow, old fellow..." He looked down at the ring finger, calling out repeatedly. The old man offered no response. Since entering the realm, he had lost contact with the Qin dynasty court magicians. Though sealed within the realm, he had been able to sense the outside world's movements, and thus, at the crucial moment, had summoned extraordinary strength to awaken him—this made sense to Xia Hou Ao Tian. He stopped speaking to the old man and began to ponder what kind of entity he was encountering. Among the professionals in the field of illusion, only the Night Wandering Deity and the Illusionist were known. Yet, the visions he had just witnessed, the crises he had faced—all unfolded as if in a dream. By profession, this should be the Dream Master. Still, honestly, even with the old man's assistance, he simply could not break free from the dream. Xiaohou Aotian scanned the hall with his eyes, his thoughts racing: Possessing the ability to enter dreams, not yet at the Sage level—using supernatural elements to intimidate people. Yet, what I truly fear isn't ghosts... unless the opponent's ability to create illusions is limited. How can someone whose strength isn't particularly strong enter my dreams at all? There's a contradiction between the strength they display and their actual capabilities. "If their strength isn't strong, they couldn't have influenced me from a distance—definitely, they must be nearby." Xiaohou Aotian opened his inventory, retrieved a black mask shaped like a ghost, and donned it over his face. This was a standard item for a Spirit Illusionist, primarily offering functions of "emotional manipulation" and "mental assault." Without hesitation, he activated the "emotional manipulation" ability—while the opponent might have unique methods to conceal their presence, emotions are inherently difficult to hide. Xiaohou Aotian glanced around the hall, noting no anomalies, then pushed open the hall doors and stood beneath the eaves, carefully surveying the courtyard ahead. Suddenly, his gaze sharpened. In a corner of the courtyard, where weeds had grown wild, thick plumes of black "smoke" rose from the soil. It was resentment! At this moment, Xue Hou Ao Tian understood everything. The temple had buried a woman who died unjustly; her lingering resentment had transformed her into a vengeful ghost, instinctively devouring travelers who entered the temple. Xue Hou Ao Tian opened his inventory, retrieved a long sword, and stepped boldly into the rain, making his way to the spot where the smoke rose. Holding the sword like a spade, he turned over the muddy soil layer by layer—first ten centimeters, then half a meter, then a full meter—until a sharp cracking sound echoed from the blade, revealing a corpse embedded in the mud.