Open the book cover. The paper of *The Record of Daoist Practice* is slightly yellow, with a faint musty scent, and the handwriting is neat: > “The path of water and fire lies in balance; only by transforming them into yin and yang can one master the Master’s technique of Cold-Ice Fire-Refinement. After three years of study, I have finally grasped this truth…” Another practice? Zhang Yuanqing raised an eyebrow. The last time he saw such a description was at the *Place* of the Mountain God, in the handnote left by the complaining spirit, which mentioned some stages of cultivation. Breath-control exercises, drawing symbols, etc. “During the Ming dynasty, professions were developed through practice—not through Character Cards? Perhaps it’s just part of the Spirit Realm’s background setting. Figures like the Yin-Yang Wanderer are NPCs, much like Wang Po and Xu Guowu. Demon Kings follow this path too—perhaps they killed them at one point—but later, the scenes were refreshed. Unless we can verify that the Yin-Yang Wanderers truly existed in historical records.” Thinking about it, Zhang Yuanqing opened his nearby *Computer*, logged into the official *Archive*, and searched for “Yin-Yang Town.” But aside from a few guides, there was no information on Yin-Yang Town in the official *Archive*. “Even though *San Dao Mountain Queen’s Temple* is included, towns where people have settled—why are they missing? Is the official office incompetent? What’s going on?” Zhang Yuanqing unconsciously muttered this out loud, then paused. How did I suddenly become so irritable… Zhang Yuanqing pondered for several seconds before realizing: one of the costs of the Yin-Yang Robe is emotional instability. “Ah, steady now… steady…” he took a deep breath. “The Yin-Yang Wanderer is from the Ming dynasty but has already passed away. As far as I know, among living strong figures in the Ming era, only Lao Bang Zi remains…” He continued reading slowly, due to the classical characters; it took about fifteen minutes before he got a general sense of the background. The Yin-Yang Wanderer came from a sect called *Water-Fire Sect*. The founding master was a legendary figure from the Song dynasty. Though the sect held significant status in Central China, the number of disciples remained small—not because the sect didn’t want to recruit more, but because few individuals possessed the aptitude for cultivation. The Yin-Yang Wanderer mentioned a concept: “When the world changes, only a few succeed.” “This is very similar to what the temple steward said—about the secret of a thousand-year rise and fall…” Zhang Yuanqing quickly flipped back, yet could not find any explanation regarding the cause of such changes in the world. He sighed loudly. Perhaps even the Yin-Yang Wanderer himself didn’t know the exact reasons. Also, Zhang Yuanqing noticed that according to his own account, there were only a few disciples who mastered the *Cold-Ice Fire-Refinement* technique—the kind of elite among elites. “Are they truly water-and-fire unified? According to the concept of *Realm Walkers*, this means combining two distinct professions. Yet in the Spirit Realm, such dual-profession holders are impossible—unless there’s confidentiality involved. Is it due to the very nature of cultivation?” While thinking, he continued reading the *Record of Daoist Practice*. “After mastering Cold-Ice Fire-Refinement, my skills gradually improved, and I became dominant throughout Central China. Then I ventured northward, where I rarely encountered a match. Later, I traveled south to challenge the masters of various sects, winning every battle in succession. I heard that there was a companion at San Dao Mountain skilled in summoning winds and rain, capturing spirits, exorcising demons, and preparing pills and symbols—so I went to face her directly. However, I suffered a crushing defeat.” “I returned to my master disheartened and reported the incident. My master smiled gently and said: ‘Even our ancestor did so!’” San Dao Mountain… That must be Lao Bang Zi. Definitely. Wow, is Lao Bang Zi that strong? Then when I meet her in the Spirit Realm, I’ll have to reconsider which kneeling posture will best express my sincerity… Zhang Yuanqing gritted his teeth silently—then suddenly realized something was off. His eyes focused on the four words: *“Even our ancestor did so!”* Did the Master mean that even the founder of Water-Fire Sect had been defeated by Lao Bang Zi? Ah, yes—the founding master belonged to the Song dynasty. If Lao Bang Zi defeated him, then she must be remarkably old. The identity of San Dao Mountain Queen may simply have been her late-life persona. Zhang Yuanqing now had to re-evaluate the strength and depth of Lao Bang Zi’s capabilities. As time passed, the *Record of Daoist Practice* grew thinner. The later content described the Yin-Yang Wanderer's journeys and insights into cultivation—details on breath control techniques, meridians, etc.—but Zhang Yuanqing found little to understand. What surprised him was that during his travels, the wanderer had developed many friendships with both righteous and evil professionals—that is, with members of the *Evil Organization*. Indeed, the wanderer’s evaluation of these friends was: spirited, adventurous, loyal to justice. “The Yin-Yang Wanderer doesn’t seem to be someone with a flawed worldview. These friends from the Evil Organization resemble figures like Aunt Jiang? Looking at his life span, it seems that the righteous and evil paths aren't truly opposed—unlike today's *Realm Walkers*, who often fight from the moment they meet, eager to destroy each other.” Zhang Yuanqing quickly flipped through the pages, no longer interested in the detailed observations. Notably, he obtained the Yin-Yang Robe during one of his travels at an ancient tomb. Since acquiring the robe, he began calling himself a *Yin-Yang Wanderer* and went on another visit to San Dao Mountain to challenge Lao Bang Zi. Again, he was defeated. From that point forward, the wanderer settled into a relaxed lifestyle—drinking, eating, enjoying company. Whenever injustice occurred, he stepped in to intervene; when corrupt officials became problematic, he would simply take their heads. As he entered his later years, the wanderer began focusing on achieving immortality, lamenting the unfavorable times—born during a time of great upheaval. With age came an ever-stronger desire for longevity. The *Record of Daoist Practice* no longer described cultivation achievements but instead detailed various strategies to achieve eternal life—even considering the idea of using infant’s blood as an ingredient to brew an immortal medicine. Fortunately, he managed to halt this course before it became too extreme; yet his longing for immortality grew ever more intense. By now, Zhang Yuanqing felt a strong sense of realization. Previously, he thought the cost of the Yin-Yang Robe was not especially severe—after all, longevity is something everyone aspires to. It wasn’t a heavy price. But seeing how deeply the wanderer pursued it—almost going mad—he now understood just how significant that cost truly was. One day, upon hearing news of San Dao Mountain Queen’s ascension into heaven, the wanderer was profoundly affected and wrote in his *Record*: > “A magnificent woman, yet still unable to escape the passage of time. Alas!” Afterward, he established Yin-Yang Town and settled into a state of eternal sleep. The *Record of Daoist Practice* was now complete—though information-rich… Zhang Yuanqing pinched his brow, organizing and digesting what he had learned: Lao Bang Zi is far older than I originally thought—stronger than I ever imagined! In the Ming era, relationships between the *Orderly Profession* and the *Evil Organization* were not particularly harmonious, though they weren’t always at war either. Professions in the Ming dynasty evolved through cultivation—not through Character Cards. If we can confirm that both the Yin-Yang Wanderer and Lao Bang Zi were real historical figures, then my understanding of the Spirit Realm must change. But among the NPCs I know, only Lao Bang Zi remains alive. Not exactly—perhaps I don’t need to ask them directly. I have a way to verify this… Zhang Yuanqing decided to set this question aside for now and tucked the *Record* away safely. Then he planned to experience his newly acquired skill—the *Divine Sojourn*. At that very moment, the thought formed, Zhang Yuanqing felt an inexplicable restlessness—urging him to try it immediately. No one could stop him. … Northern China, the capital city of Yan Province. In a luxury residential complex, a young man wearing a sports headband sat comfortably in a high-back chair. Across from him lay a soft bed where an older man was lying—his arms and legs bound. The man had a bald head, a round belly, thick black hair on his chest, sweating profusely, and his face pale with fear; he held a thick towel stuffed into his mouth. The older man struggled with quiet cries, his eyes full of appeal, so tender and weak—like a small dog. “Hmph… Hmph…” the young man smiled. “Look at you now—you’re just like a dog begging for mercy.” He stood up and walked to the bed, drawing out a sharp fruit knife from his waist. “The older man’s struggles intensified immediately.” “Be quiet,” the young man said firmly, his pupils glowing with intense crimson light. “Listen!” The older man suddenly went stiff. The young man sat back down, playing with the fruit knife, smiling gently: “I particularly hate to punish someone without explanation. Before I kill you, I’ll share my reasons—so that you may understand clearly what leads to your demise. “First: accept a transaction involving authority and beauty, forcing good people into compromising roles… “Second: act as a protector for corrupt organizations, concealing their crimes of murder... “Third…” He spoke calmly, listing one after another, totaling over ten points. When he finished, the older man had gone completely rigid. “That’s not acceptable? See—your conscience can’t bear it anymore,” the young man said, patting the elder’s shoulder gently. “Next life, don’t be a person.” He rose from the bed and walked to the window, opening it and breathing in the night breeze, gazing at the city lights below with contented satisfaction. “The world has just become better.” Human nature is flawed—some people live in places full of filth. Thus, the world needs to be cleansed. At that moment, his phone rang. He pulled out his *Smartphone*, holding it between two fingers, high above his head, and used one hand to answer: “Silver Moon, what’s up?” “How about you? Have you finished your activities now? Come back to headquarters immediately. The Master of Zhishake Palace has killed many of our members in the north—she excels at concealment. I need your eyes.” The voice on the other end was bright and impatient. “Watch your tone!” the young man replied with a smile. “You’re a divine general—you dare speak to me like this?” “I’ll have you know!” the voice on the line responded even more heatedly, launching into an outburst: “Our four grand generals are all dysfunctional—first rank: a complete fool constantly advocating for freedom but finding no one to listen; second rank: he even sent a challenge letter demanding combat against the Master of Zhishake Palace—yet she refuses to engage? “Third rank: a murderer just entered the Spirit Realm—we can find her, yet we cannot locate him!” The young man rubbed his temple. “Ah—that makes sense. You know my rules—first give me a clear reason for killing her.” “Does killing someone require a justification?” “No?” “Well… when she was hunting our organization members, she accidentally injured two civilians—does that count?” “It does! I’ll go and deal with her right now.” “You’re completely insane—you’re either from the *Orderly Profession* or from the *Evil Organization*, aren’t you? No—*all four of you are insane!*” Silver Moon exclaimed, then changed tone: “Li Xianzong has passed away!” “Oh?” The young man raised an eyebrow, his smile fading. “What happened?” “He encountered Yuan Shi Tian Zun in a *Instance* and was killed.” “That’s interesting…” The young man regained his composure, smiling again. “Then after I defeat the Master of Zhishake Palace, I’ll go to Songhai to collect reasons for killing Yuan Shi Tian Zun.” … Zhang Yuanqing floated upward—only ten centimeters from the ceiling. Looking down, his physical body lay quietly on the bed, neither breathing nor pulsing. “In twenty minutes without returning, my body will die completely.” Zhang Yuanqing felt it clearly—he immediately sped out of the room and passed through the wall into the living room. His current state was remarkable—floating and manipulating objects seemed to be innate skills. This meant he could now use *Props* while in spirit form—for instance, wielding a knife or a weapon. His *spiritual strength*, however, was still the *Power of the Moon*. He could still perform *Night Wanderer* and *Moon’s Roar*, but couldn’t open his item menu. Overall, though, his combat effectiveness was somewhat less than in physical form. The advantage: he was immune to physical attacks—but extremely vulnerable to *mental or psychological* assaults. As he walked through the corridor, Zhang Yuanqing entered the room of his *Grandfather and Grandmother*. Both elderly persons were now asleep. He changed course and bumped into a wall, arriving at his *Aunt’s* bedroom. By the window draped in soft pink curtains, Aunt Jiang stood quietly, wearing a light nightgown, gazing silently at the night scene. On the bedside table lay her removed black lace bra—quite large in size. Jiang Yu'er slightly tilted her head and then gently stretched her back, murmuring: “Feeling so tired—I’ll go to sleep now…” Zhang Yuanqing watched as she crawled into bed and closed her eyes—the soft face calm and gentle, round and compliant. Who will be the man who can enjoy this serene sleeping beauty every day? He stared at her peaceful expression and thought—could I try *attaching myself* to her body? Then he realized that using family members as test subjects might not be ideal. So he dove directly into the ceiling and entered a neighbor’s home on the ground floor. As soon as he penetrated the floor, he heard the faint creaking of a rocking bed and subtle sounds beneath thin blankets—indicating movement and contact between two bodies. He looked over and saw two figures entwined together. Ah, just the wrong time—now how am I supposed to manifest myself? This man, who’s been watching a small documentary of sorts with his eyes wide open, has simply given up and sighed in resignation. Then he hears a sudden intensification of sound—the clatter of objects colliding—and then it settles into silence. The thin blanket that had been gently shifting now lies still as well. Next comes the voice of his wife complaining: “Why does everything always happen so fast again?” “I’ve been working overtime lately, and I’m quite tired.” “You said this last time too.” “Oh, for heaven’s sake—can’t you just *stop*? Just go to sleep! We have to get up early tomorrow anyway.” Brother, you need a stamina spray to regain your confidence as a man. Everyone on the floor knows about it—give yourself an eightfold discount… Zhang Yuanqing floats his spirit back toward his aunt’s room. This time, he heads directly to the next door, to his uncle’s residence, and enters the master bedroom. Uncle and wife are awake—the one is lying down with a face mask watching a lifestyle program on TV; the other is holding her smartphone, immersed in a hip-hop video, occasionally reciting rhythmic lines with crisp rhyme. “Look at this Yuanzi—eating a hot steamed bun, acting so clueless,” says the uncle suddenly, lowering his head and then immediately lifting it again to meet his wife’s gaze with solemn gravity: “I think we should treat Yuanzi better.” The wife keeps her eyes fixed on the tablet. “Don’t we already?” “I mean financially—shouldn’t we give him more pocket money? Though Mom does provide some, we as uncles and aunts should contribute too.” “Oh, then I’ll give him several thousand yuan every month,” says the aunt casually. “That’s so kind of you—ah, I mean, that’s so kind of *wife*!” The aunt doesn’t notice the slip in attention; her eyes remain on the screen as she expresses mild dismissal: “You know your big sister? She’s been all about making money these years—never thought to care for Yuanzi. Never attends parent-teacher meetings, never follows up on his studies. This child, raised without a father, gets picked on constantly at school—yet you’re always the one who has to go to the school and intervene. Constantly tosses him a pile of cash, thinking it’s something grand—well, with just that little amount she earns? It means nothing.” The uncle looks embarrassed: “Just speak less!” After all, it’s still Mom at the heart of the matter. The aunt sighs: “Think about Yuanzi over the years—he consistently chooses to dance with you rather than accept money from me. When he first arrived here—just in elementary school—he was so cautious. Whenever I wasn’t around, he’d come to me to show off and make sure I didn’t find him awkward. Always afraid of making a bad impression, worried about not fitting in at home. “And how about your parents? Back then, they weren’t close with Grandfather and Grandmother either—already adapting to life as someone living in someone else’s household. In fact, I remember Yu'er did the same when she was young, so that’s why he and Yuanzi have always been especially close.” As she finishes speaking, she notices her husband’s expression has dimmed. “This isn’t like you at all,” the aunt observes, sensing something off. She thinks: *Now, wouldn’t you be doing a stand-up routine? Something like—“With me as my uncle, having no parents is just as good!”* “Sleep now! Sleep now!” The husband puts down his phone and pulls the blanket up over himself. … The next day, Zhang Yuanqing arrives at work wearing a mask and a baseball cap. He ascends to the second floor and quickly scans the office area before approaching Guan Ya directly. “Guan Ya sister,” he begins, “I have something to ask you.” By now, Guan Ya has already restored her injuries using diluted life essence within the Instance, her fingers smoothly turning the ballpoint pen. She smiles warmly: “Do women prefer a longer or shorter hairstyle? Or is it more about thickness—thicker or finer?” …Zhang Yuanqing looks at her, helpless: “You don’t have to be so direct—after all, I’m still just a kid.” Guan Ya blinks: “What did I say? I thought you were asking about high heels.” Clearing his throat, Zhang Yuanqing redirects the conversation: “Shi Lingxi mentioned that the ancestors of the Xiaohou Family are among the very first Realm Walkers. How long have they lived? And when exactly did the very first Realm Walkers emerge?”