The spirit servant of the Sovereign of the Yin—Victoria's expression immediately grew strange. Hearing that the spirit of the murmuring ghost could not be heard, when her elder lover's face changed, she quickly asked, "What did it say?" Victoria glanced at him. "It claims to be the spirit servant of the Sovereign of the Yin." "Even after my spirit servant, Lingtuo, has died, it still won't let me go?" Lingtuo's face instantly paled, instinctively reaching for his phone to call someone—perhaps summoning the elders from the Taiyuan Sect to jointly defend against the threat. He waved his hand toward the back, intending to have the cat on the sofa fetch the phone. But Victoria stopped him, smiling lightly. "In your younger brother's eyes, you're still less important than a single fingernail of the Primordial Celestial Sovereign. The threat level is no greater than that of the cat in the room." Implied, the ghost wasn't here to kill him. Lingtuo exhaled in relief, cautiously probing, "Then, what does it want?" After all, his younger brother was both cunning and unpredictable—something he couldn't afford to overlook. Victoria gazed at the spirit servant beneath the streetlamp, communicating through the unique spiritual resonance of a wailing spirit, and asked, "What is your purpose?" The spirit servant, voice hoarse and eerie, replied, "When the master entered the spirit realm, he instructed me that should he meet an unfortunate fate there, I was to take the Lingjun公子 to a certain place." Victoria inquired, "What place is that?" The spirit servant's form swayed like a shadow beneath the streetlamp, his voice cold and solemn: "You are not entitled to know. Should Lingjun公子 refuse to accompany me, I shall compel him." Victoria straightened her expression, turned to Lingjun, repeated the spirit servant's words, and then said, "You may call the elders of the Taiyin Sect. I will be responsible for delaying the timeline." Though the spirit servant of the Taiyin Sovereign held a higher rank than hers, the power of the Sun God could suppress wailing spirits and render a superior-level battle unnecessary. Lingjun remained silent, pondering for several seconds, and then said, "I need a tool that enables communication with wailing spirits." Victoria, dressed in a nightgown, leaned half against the railing and reached into the inventory tray, pulling out a box of rouge: "Apply it to your lips." There wasn't even one other prop! Lin Jun murmured to himself as he opened the box, lifted the rouge with his fingertip, and smoothed it across his lips, making them bright. Then he turned to the spirit servant, whose presence was quiet and restrained yet whose stature was undeniably impressive: "I don't like to be kept in suspense. I won't hold onto any familial ties to your master. If you can't convince me, then please, go back. Of course, you're welcome to try—force me to go with you, if you must." Under the streetlight, the spirit servant spoke with a solemn tone: "Consider whether there's any value you hold that your master would specifically send me to cultivate at this very moment." Lin Jun paused, lost in thought, and after a few seconds, his expression suddenly grew strange. He immediately declared, "I'm going with you!" Victoria furrowed her brows and asked, "Shall I give you a simple warding talisman?" "Is the Break-Sickness Seal effective against a servant of this level?" "Somewhat reassuring." "...," Ling Jun sighed irritably, "I won't be in danger, not with my miserable fate." With that, he leapt off the balcony and landed on the street, giving the servant a nod. The very next second, the servant transformed into a vortex of negative qi, sweeping Ling Jun up and carrying him toward the night sky. Victoria watched the swirling wind recede into the distance, remaining silent for a long time. ... "August 21, 2022..." Zhang Yuanqing thought for a moment. At this point, he should have just reached the fourth level, striving hard to advance to the fifth. He had only recently graduated from Qin Feng Academy, had just begun to navigate his relationship with his beautiful, elegant mother-in-law, and had only recently completed the Qing forces' entry into the capital. At that moment, through the Fate Mirror in Qin Feng Academy, he learned that he would not survive beyond three months—deeply concerned and anxious. After three journeys through time, Zhang Yuanqing distilled his experience—mastering the art of quietly undermining his enemies' schemes without altering the future or being detected by the Star Sovereign or the Sovereign of the Moon, thereby maximizing his own interests. He had to become a time assassin. Theoretically, he now possesses the power to radically transform the future—such as summoning the Lawful Half-Deities to defeat the Star Sovereign—but the cost of such sweeping changes remains uncertain. The note on his electronic watch mentions no such cost—this is the most terrifying aspect. Since even the Heavenly Emperor of the Heavens has not taken any such action, Zhang Yuanqing simply accepted it as a matter of contemplation. With his thoughts now settled and the principles of time travel clear, he knew precisely what to do next. For the foreseeable future, Ling Tu's schemes—specifically, the plot to kill Master Wuhen and reclaim the Moon's primal fragments from him—would remain unchanged. Then came the journey to the New Covenant County of the Free Federation, where the malevolent faction's plot aimed to persecute the Twin Deities of Wind and Thunder, obscure the Register of Merits, and eliminate the Sea Emperor. The latter two objectives had already been resolved. As for the first—well, at this point, the Twin Deities of Wind and Thunder lacked trust in him, and any premature engagement would only prove detrimental. Given his deep understanding of the Chief Executive Officer, even if he knew the situation was a trap, she would likely find it hard to resist the allure of fusion and promotion. Moreover, the disasters caused by the Twin Deities had already been resolved in the future, making any additional efforts on his part unnecessary. "Now I understand..." He surged with golden light, took a single step, and stepped out of the material world, entering the spiritual realm. While the Lady of San Dao Mountain is usually hard to find wandering about the spiritual realm, her characteristic of "light shining everywhere" allows him to see through any clouds of gloom or darkness—where light reaches, his gaze follows. Not long after, he located the Lady of San Dao Mountain gliding through a vast, undulating island realm. At that moment, the old traveler had just arrived at the summit of a towering mountain—this mountain, Zhang Yuanqing recognized from his past experience, was precisely the sacred peak in the High Heaven Origin where the bronze divine tree grew. So why had she come to the High Heaven Origin realm? It wasn't for immortality—then it must be to seek the traces of the Golden Sun. At this very moment, Zhang Yuanqing sensed his inner spiritual energy rapidly fading, his once-solid body now becoming ethereal, as if a projection from beyond the heavens. His electronic watch's temporal energy was rapidly depleting. He no longer wasted time—he instantly transformed, golden mist radiating from his body, silently materializing behind her. "The Fusan Sacred Tree is not within this realm; it remains in the Tōkai's Tōkai-Heaven Plain. The Tree houses the Spirit Pot, a core artifact of the Musician profession. When the spiritual realm first came into being, it could not yet contain this fundamental divine relic. Later, it was deliberately left behind in the Tōkai-Heaven Plain by a certain being." The three mountain goddesses, who had not sensed his arrival, were startled and abruptly turned around. "Who—?" She instinctively pressed her fingers together like a sword, her inner power of the Sun God beginning to surge. Gazing at him, the goddess’s beautiful face softened: "You are the one I dreamed of." Has she recognized me? Zhang Yuanqing thought, smiling. "Goddess, it was I who awakened you. Have you ever wondered why most ancient practitioners transferred to the spiritual realm have become副本 bosses, while you are the exception? This time, I’ve come to you with a request." "Master of San Dao Mountain narrowed her eyes," "Did you help me break free from the spiritual realm's control? Then why hide your true form—come forth and reveal yourself plainly." "There's an issue with my true form," Zhang Yuanqing paused for several seconds, dispersing the mist from his face and dissolving the transformation spell to reveal his genuine appearance as the Prime Celestial Sovereign. Master of San Dao Mountain was stunned, her composure nearly shattered, her voice trembling as she stammered, "Is it *you*?" Zhang Yuanqing bowed immediately, "Disciple Yuan Shǐ Tian Zūn, bowing to my esteemed master!" Still recovering from the initial shock, the Master of San Dao Mountain was momentarily stunned again. Zhang Yuanqing continued, "My time is limited. I'll keep this brief. I am a projection—arrived here through a special means—from the future. You need not probe further; simply remember this. In the future, the demonic path will flourish while the righteous path declines, and the entire material world teeters on the brink of collapse, with the spiritual realm itself poised to fall under the dominion of the evil deities. In desperation, a divine "My disciple would like to ask you for one thing. On November 8th, during the major battle in the Great Region's Wine God Club faction instance, numbered 068, a fierce conflict will unfold, and several key figures—including myself—will face life-or-death peril. Only you can save us." Given the esteemed status and wisdom of the Old Clog, it would not be easily moved by merely a few lofty phrases. Since this matter directly concerns his life, Zhang Yuanqing chooses to be open and honest. The Lady of San Dao Mountain furrowed her brows, saying, "The fact that you can project yourself into the future indicates that you survived that crisis." Zhang Yuanqing quickly explained, "At the time, it was my master who saved me. I once asked you why you appeared in the Great Region's instance, and you didn't answer. Only today do I understand—what prompted you to ask for your own intervention was the future me." His constant reference to "Master" unsettled the Lady of San Dao Mountain, who looked at him with a strange expression, asking, "In the future, will I take you as my disciple?" Zhang Yuanqing bowed deeply at once: "My ability to become a pillar of the world's righteous path lies entirely in your teachings, Master. Though you reside in the Spiritual Realm, isolated from the world, your fame spreads far and wide—only because Yuan Shi Tian Zun is your disciple." The Lady of San Dao said coldly, "How can I believe you?" Zhang Yuanqing replied: "You once taught me that when I first entered the monastery, senior teachers offered me countless instructions—first cultivate the heart before the strength, first nurture the character before refining the methods. 'When joining the Pure Yang Sect, one must possess an upright character, an unyielding spirit of resilience, and a noble integrity that refuses to compromise with petty, corrupt officials.' You also said: 'All things carry the yin within them and embrace the yang; the Golden Sun warms the world, close by it is scorching, far away it brings cold. Those who practice the Pure Yang Washing Record must be strict, fair, and resolute, with a commanding, even domineering presence.'" The Lady of San Dao raised an eyebrow. She had never shared these words with Yin Yao—especially the last one. Indeed To strengthen one's ability, one must first cultivate the mind; to refine one's method, one must first nurture one's nature—this she regards as a principle. Her belief in it grew steadily. "So you summoned me, all on your own?" she asked. Zhang Yuanqing sighed, "This world, without our master, will forever be like night, endless and dark." Upon saying this, he saw the old clog-maker's furrowed brows ease slightly, and added, "There's one thing Master must never remember—about our meeting and conversation today between us, master must find a way to forget it. Otherwise, all my plans will come to nothing, like water poured into a basket." As for how to forget it, Zhang Yuanqing knew the old clog-maker had ample means—she could locate high-tier hypnotic artifacts within the realm, or even sever the spiritual seals preserving the memories. These were no small feats for a peak-tier day-traveling deity. Upon hearing this, the old clog-maker's gaze flickered, as though pondering something deeply. She didn’t press further, but asked instead, “You mentioned that ancient cultivators who entered the Spiritual Realm have mostly become副本 bosses—yet I’m an exception. Why?” “Back then, you were as lifeless as a corpse,” Zhang Yuanqing said smoothly. “You were drawn into the Realm by chance, because the Mountain God’s Temple was chosen as the initial quest. As a sleeper beneath the earth, you were an incidental entrant—part of the bonus. In the Realm’s perception, you were already dead.” He continued, “Had I not awakened you, you would have remained asleep until you finally passed away. All this is due to Lady Yin Yao, who stole your coffin.” His meaning was clear: I am your savior. The old sturdy man chuckled coldly, “You’ve acknowledged me as your master—yet you still tease and mock me in your dreams?” … Zhang Yuanqing, blushing slightly, said, “My master is as ethereal as a heavenly goddess. My filial devotion has, in my moment of inattention, turned into something quite different!” The old sturdy man snorted. Zhang Yuanqing added, "Do not tell your earthly self of this—my ties to the evil faction are too deep. The more you know, the more likely the enemy will detect our preparations early." "Understood. No need for your reminder." At once, Zhang Yuanqing plucked a miniature golden oriole from his brow. "When the time comes, with many elite warriors and pressing threats, I shall rely on your golden oriole's power to subdue the adversaries." The Lady of San Mountain gasped, her breath rapid. Zhang Yuanqing offered no explanation, simply asking, "Where did you obtain the golden oriole?" "You will naturally know when the time comes. For now, do not pursue the matter further." With a single finger, he pressed upon the smooth forehead of the Lady of San Mountain. Pure solar divine energy flowed from the oriole, tracing golden sun-like patterns across her brow, before vanishing into her body. "I have sealed the golden oriole's power within you, so it will not escape. Master, please remember to let this conversation fade from your memory—remember, remember." "Having said that, his body completely faded and vanished into the天地. ... Zhang Yuanqing returned from the time tunnel to the present and saw his cousin standing there, wide-eyed. He noticed the deep night outside the window. "How long have I been gone?" he asked. Chen Yuanjun looked somewhat bewildered, staring blankly, "Just now—he disappeared..." Just now? I was sent back to the time when I entered the time tunnel! Zhang Yuanqing quickly looked down at his hands, only to find his electronic watch gone. He then checked his internal condition and sensed a powerful surge of the Sun God's energy—the vibrant, vigorous Golden Phoenix. He had brought the Golden Phoenix back. As he was about to speak, a sharp "crack" sounded from his chest. Looking down, he realized his chest and abdomen had carbonized and cracked. Not good—his body was beginning to collapse. With only a seventh-level physique, even carrying just one Golden Phoenix was quite overwhelming. Fortunately, he had returned. Zhang Yuanqing didn't have time to explain to his cousin, so he swiftly activated the Golden Phoenix's power and entered the spiritual realm. … Ling Jun found himself immersed in cold, damp阴气, his body stiff and cold, his vision blurred. He had no sense of ground beneath him, unsure of how long he had been there, until he finally felt the solid presence of the earth beneath his feet. Turning his head, he discovered himself in the ancient city, surrounded by dense, eerie阴气—much like a film studio. "Where are we?" Ling Jun asked, his lips still vividly red, turning to gaze at the ghostly figure dressed in a tattered black robe. "The Master's Ghost City!" the black-robed ghost replied, walking steadily toward the city's deeper reaches. Ling Jun glanced around, noticing that shops along the streets were adorned with arches and banners, where ghostly figures in constant motion peered through the doorways, their eyes bloodshot, watching him intently. Was this indeed the ghost city that Fu Qingyang and his companions had once mistakenly entered? Instinctively, he shivered and hurried to follow the black-robed servant. After walking a while, the servant led him to the end of the long street, where a grand city gate stood. Carved on the wall was the inscription: "The Gate of The black-robed spirit servant materialized as a gust of wind, carrying him to the city's ramparts and pointing ahead. "That is what the master left for you," he said. Ling Jun followed the gesture and saw, ten meters away, a three-legged bronze tripod standing upright, within which a flower in bud was nurtured. The stem was thick and robust, its leaves glowing with a soft green light—clearly a spirit plant. Ling Jun looked at the black-robed servant with a look of mild bewilderment. "It sprouted from seeds your mother planted and grew under the master's care," the servant explained. "The master cultivated it, but it still hasn't bloomed. The master says that for it to bloom, the blood of a close relative is required—your mother's closest kin, and also that of the Lord of the Stars." That is my blood, then... Ling Jun stepped forward, paused before the tripod, and asked, "Did the master also say anything else?" The cloaked spirit servant remained silent. Li Jun paused, then transformed his left hand into the form of an eagle's talon. The sharp, hooked edges sliced through the flesh of his wrist, drawing blood that flowed into the cauldron and dripped onto the green plant. As the blood soaked in, the plant instantly came to life—its green tendrils trembled, its leaves swayed, and it unfolded like a voracious, grasping vampire flower, greedily sipping the blood. Even the roots burst through the soil, coiling around Li Jun's arm and beginning to draw nourishment from his blood. Then, gradually, the plant began to wither—the vibrant green turned to dull yellow and brown, losing moisture and becoming dry at the roots—while the flower buds slowly unfurled. One by one, the petals opened, and within each bud, a small figure sat in a cradle-like posture, its features indistinct, neither flesh nor bone, more like a crystalline fruit. As the spirit king, Li Jun immediately recognized this as a high-level technique within his profession—either "grafting" or "transmigration," where a plant is specially cultivated to absorb and transfer the strength of a target. Take, for instance, the treacherous Yuan Shi Tian Zun. Ling Jun can implant a seed upon him; once the seed sprouts and grows, Ling Jun will be able to seize Yuan Shi Tian Zun's divine power of the sun. Of course, no plant can withstand the power of the sun. That is precisely why the grafting spell is employed. As for rebirth—rebirth—this phenomenon has indeed appeared in myth and legend, such as the well-known lotus-root human. Ling Jun always believed that the mother's legacy carried the secret of the celestial ruler's fall. But now it seems that this is not the case. Rebirth, rebirth... who is being reborn? Ling Jun stared wide-eyed at the small figure's features, and then two sword beams pierced his eyes. "Ding-ding-ding..." Ling Jun staggered backward, blood gushing from his eyes. At that moment, the small figure rose, transforming into a sword beam that soared skyward. Though the initial surge of this beam was modest, resembling a faint glow, it gradually strengthened, growing like a meteor, still expanding and intensifying, until it finally became a broad, flowing ribbon of light, illuminating half of the ghost city. It vanished instantly into the night sky, retreating into the depths.