"What the hell!? Why are you crying?!"
Ye Junlin stared, dumbfounded. He patted Hong Qianye on the shoulder with a look of exaggerated sympathy.
"It's alright. If it's that good, then eat more! No need to hold back."
He sighed. "Truly pitiful… How long has it been since you've tasted meat?"
Hong Qianye didn't respond. His heart was in turmoil.
He was born in the lowest rungs of society. As a child, he had often gone hungry, dreaming day and night of one thing—eating a piece of meat.
Later, by pure chance, he stepped onto the path of cultivation. From that day forward, he fought tooth and nail to climb upward. He seized cultivation resources by any means necessary, walked through rivers of blood, and ultimately rose to become a terrifying demonic giant feared across the Central Region.
But now—
Now, with just one bite of this absurdly good meat skewer, that long-buried childhood memory came flooding back.
Coupled with the highs and lows of his cultivation journey, the emotions hidden deep in his heart suddenly broke through.
Yes!
If the path of cultivation means becoming like a lifeless clay statue—forsaking food, drink, desire—then what meaning is there in strength at all?
At that moment, Hong Qianye's heart experienced a tremendous shift.
His Dao Heart cleared. His soul awakened.
Boom!
A surge of terrifying energy erupted from within.
Hong Qianye's cultivation, which had been at the early stage of the Nascent Soul Realm, began to soar.
Mid-stage… Late-stage… Peak… Perfected!
And then—
Bang!
He broke through.
In the blink of an eye, he stepped into the Soul Formation Realm.
The violent surge of qi was so intense it shook all of Misty Peak, but thankfully the protective barrier formation held firm, concealing the disturbance from the rest of Xuantian Sect.
"…The hell? That works too?!"
Ye Junlin was completely stunned.
But then he remembered—this guy had once been a True Immortal. Now that he was retraining from scratch, sudden leaps in cultivation weren't too surprising.
At this moment, Hong Qianye quietly stood at the early stage of the Soul Formation Realm.
A flash of surprise flickered in his eyes—but it quickly faded.
He had endured too many rises and falls in life. A single breakthrough was nothing to boast about.
He still had a long way to go before he could reach the goal in his heart.
Ye Junlin clapped his hands with a grin. "Little Hong, congrats on your breakthrough to the Soul Formation Realm! I'm so proud of you! At this rate, your cultivation's about to catch up to your master!"
Hong Qianye's pair of phoenix-shaped pink eyes narrowed slightly, a cold light flashing beneath his lashes.
Now that he had stepped into the Soul Formation Realm—and with the Three Thousand Flame Sutra fully —his explosive combat strength was nothing short of terrifying.
Even if he couldn't claim invincibility, he was confident he wasn't far off.
Is it time to cut ties with this shameless "master"?
Just as the thought was taking root, a familiar voice interrupted him.
"Why are you just standing there? Eat!"
Ye Junlin handed over another mutton skewer, urging casually.
Hong Qianye accepted it with hesitation, lowered his head, and ate in silence. But the idea was growing wild in his mind like untamed weeds.
After the meal—
Ye Junlin lazily pulled out a toothpick and tucked it between his lips. "Little Hong, come massage your master's shoulders."
Hong Qianye sneered but said nothing. He walked behind Ye Junlin with a cold expression, slowly raising his hands—white and slender—and placed them on the silver-haired man's shoulders, kneading them with practiced strength.
"Aren't you full? Put more force into it… Yes, right there, right there…"
"Ahhh~ that's the stuff," Ye Junlin exhaled in bliss, thoroughly enjoying himself.
But behind him, Hong Qianye's expression shifted continuously. His hands crept higher, inching subtly toward Ye Junlin's neck—like he was about to strangle a beast in its sleep.
Someone like him—proud, independent, ruthless—had never been one to rely on others. The only reason he accepted becoming Ye Junlin's disciple was to buy time… and probe for secrets.
But so far?
Other than the man's ridiculous behavior and bizarre tastes, he'd uncovered nothing.
That's why the thought had begun to crystalize in his mind: simply subdue Ye Junlin and force him to reveal where he got those heaven-defying techniques and pills.
That way, he could learn the truth—and rid himself of this humiliating master-disciple bond.
Of course… he wouldn't kill Ye Junlin.
Though Hong Qianye had slaughtered without mercy as a demonic cultivator, Ye Junlin had saved his life. The most he planned to do was cast a memory-erasing spell, wipe away all traces of their past, and then leave Xuantian Sect behind forever.
Ye Junlin, meanwhile, was slouched in his chair like a lazy cat, completely unaware of the looming danger behind him.
"You dare order me around even after I've reached the Soul Formation Realm?! You think someone like you can still control me?"
"This farce of a master-disciple relationship ends today!" Hong Qianye's face turned to frost, his hands coiled with silent murderous intent. He was just about to act when—
A sharp streak of sword light flew across the sky, trailing a glowing arc before descending toward Misty Peak.
It was a sound transmission talisman.
"Junior Brother Ye," came Xu Younian's solemn voice, "please come to the meeting hall immediately. There's a new situation that needs addressing."
"Oh?"
Ye Junlin opened one eye, then stretched lazily like he'd just woken from a nap.
"Looks like I've got somewhere to be."
The sudden interruption made Hong Qianye pause.
He could still act now—but something deep inside warned him against it.
A voice in his heart whispered with urgency: Don't do it. If you make a move now… the consequences will be severe.
Though he was re-cultivating, Hong Qianye had once been an immortal. His instincts were sharper than most. And in this moment, every warning bell in his soul was ringing.
What is this feeling? Does this man… have some kind of hidden trump card?
Hong Qianye hesitated.
"Little Hong, your master's stepping out for a moment," Ye Junlin said with a grin. "Your technique was real nice—when I come back, massage my legs too!"
With that, he soared into the sky and vanished from view.
Hong Qianye's eye twitched. His entire face contorted with rage.
You really do treat me like a servant, don't you?!
He gritted his teeth until his jaw creaked.
I should've done it!
I should've just strangled that shameless bastard when I had the chance!
Mid-flight,
Ye Junlin's silver hair fluttered in the wind, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
He, of course, knew all about Hong Qianye's little schemes. Every move was already under his control.
After all, his Great Void Technique had long since been cultivated to perfection—automatically mastered while he hung around doing nothing.
If danger ever truly arose, Ye Junlin could instantly vanish, even at close range, and then suppress the enemy with overwhelming force.
That was why he'd remained so calm throughout the whole exchange.
Council Hall — Xuantian Sect
Inside the great hall, Sect Master Xu Younian and the other peak masters were deep in discussion.
As Ye Junlin descended from the sky, his silver robes drifting like celestial clouds, Xu Younian looked up with a smile.
"Junior Brother Ye, you've arrived."
His cultivation had reached the Nascent Soul Realm, and his aura now crackled faintly with lightning. His pupils shimmered with electric light—evidence of progress.
Xu Younian had nothing but gratitude toward Ye Junlin. Not only had he saved the sect from destruction, but he had also gifted him a rare thunder-attribute Heaven-grade technique. As a result, his thunder-elemental mastery had taken a huge leap.
"Junior Brother Ye," the master of Hidden Sword Peak greeted with a warm smile.
The others followed suit.
Their own cultivation levels had advanced greatly thanks to Ye Junlin's casually handed-down techniques. Many of them were now only a step away from breaking through to Nascent Soul. With better methods and guidance, their strength had improved drastically.
Now, they all regarded Ye Junlin with sincere admiration.
"Did something happen to the sect?" Ye Junlin asked casually, hands behind his back.
Xu Younian's expression darkened. "Several years ago, the Wei Kingdom—which is under our sect's protection—sent an urgent distress message. They claimed strange deaths were occurring across the kingdom. Villagers and city folk alike were being found with their blood completely drained."
"The signs were… unnatural. It was initially judged to be the work of some monster or demonic creature."
"I sent disciples to investigate. But not one of them returned. No word at all."
"In recent months, the situation in Wei Kingdom has grown worse. Entire cities—some with populations in the millions—have turned into death zones."
"And now it's spreading."
"Reports are coming in from neighboring kingdoms across the Wasteland Province. The victims all die the same way. Blood drained. No witnesses. No survivors."
"If this continues, the entire province could descend into chaos. Worse—Xuantian Sect's disciple recruitment will plummet. And that's a disaster we can't afford."
Ye Junlin frowned. "So serious? No one saw the culprit?"
Xu Younian shook his head. "It seems anyone who gets close enough to see doesn't live to talk about it. All that remains are corpses—drained dry."
For any cultivation sect, its long-term vitality depended on a steady stream of disciples. Without fresh blood from the mortal kingdoms, a sect would stagnate. Eventually, it would fade into obscurity.
That's why mortal kingdoms mattered so much. They were the root.
And if you were lucky, sometimes… you'd find a monster talent hidden among the common folk.
Xu Younian understood this deeply—because 200 years ago, he had been one of them. Just a boy from a nameless mountain village, lucky enough to be chosen by an elder during a recruitment tour.
That moment had changed his life.
Ye Junlin muttered, "So the weird deaths started in Wei Kingdom years ago, and it's the most serious there now… Then the root cause must be there. That's where we should begin."
According to his memory, the Wei Kingdom—also known as the Wei Dynasty—had a population of 800 million. And it was just one of hundreds of kingdoms in the Wasteland Province.
If this plague of death spread across the entire province, it would become a wasteland in the truest sense—completely ruined and fit only for extinction.
[Ding! New Mission Triggered —]
Go to Wei Kingdom and uncover the source of the crisis.
Mission Reward: Unimaginable!
"System, you really know how to pick your moments," Ye Junlin said with a smirk.
[Ding! Naturally! This system is flawless!]
Ye Junlin shrugged lazily. Truth be told, he was getting bored sitting on the mountain all this time. This was a perfect excuse to stretch his legs, mess around a bit, and maybe drag his cheap disciple along for the ride.
"Well then, I also agree. The root of the problem is definitely in the Wei Kingdom."
Xu Younian nodded. "Makes sense."
"Sect Master," Ye Junlin said casually, "let's not waste any more time. I'll go myself and resolve it."
Swish—
Every gaze in the council hall turned toward him.
Xu Younian stroked his beard, smiling. "Junior Brother Ye really doesn't beat around the bush. If you're going, I have no doubt this matter will be dealt with swiftly."
Ye Junlin turned and waved. "Alright then, see you all later."
He left the hall without hesitation.
As his figure disappeared from view, the Master of Hidden Sword Peak frowned slightly. "Still… can Junior Brother Ye really handle this situation?"
"Pfft. With that blockhead brain of yours, you still don't get it?" The Master of Heavenly Fragrance Peak rolled her eyes. "In the Wasteland Province, anyone who reaches the Soul Formation Realm is basically invincible."
Xu Younian's smile slowly faded, replaced by a serious expression.
"If even he can't handle it," he said quietly, "then this province really has no future."
He raised his voice. "Everyone! Go back and cultivate. Don't think about anything else. Don't let down Junior Brother Ye's expectations!"
"Yes!"
The crowd answered in unison.
…
…
In the Eastern Region, Wasteland Province was considered tiny and remote—almost insignificant. Among cultivators from other provinces, it was often dismissed as a backwater land, a forgotten corner of the world.
But that was the view of cultivators.
In the eyes of ordinary people, Wasteland Province was vast beyond imagination. To travel from one kingdom to another—rushing day and night without rest—would still take two to three months at the very least. And for the truly distant places, most would never reach them in their entire lifetime.
Under a cloud-covered sky—
Two streaks of light shot through the air, one after the other.
Ye Junlin flew ahead, humming a carefree tune while admiring the sweeping rivers and distant mountain ranges below.
Behind him, Hong Qianye followed in silence, his gaze fixed coldly on Ye Junlin's back.
Thinking of everything he had endured on Misty Peak—grilling meat, shoulder massages, forced bites of food—his frustration boiled again.
Forget it… There'll be plenty of chances on the road.
Just wait until you fall into my hands… I'll make sure you regret every last thing you've done to me!
But ahead of him, Ye Junlin smirked faintly.
He could feel the aura behind him crackling with silent resentment.
Heh. Still holding a grudge, huh?
Very well… I'll take my time and train you into a good boy.
Before long—
The great lands of the Wei Dynasty came into view.
From high above, cities of all sizes dotted the land like carved stones on a grand board. Roads snaked through hills and valleys, connecting kingdoms and towns.
The mortals below moved like ants.
Born into fates already sealed—some were rich and powerful, cloaked in silk and luxury. Others scraped by, surviving on scraps and coarse grain. Some toiled endlessly, only to die nameless and ill.
In this cruel world, only cultivation could defy the heavens and seize fate.
"Huh? There's something going on down there."
Ye Junlin squinted and narrowed his eyes.
Hong Qianye glanced below and said indifferently, "Looks like a group of horse bandits raiding a village. Happens all the time."
To him, such things were hardly worth a glance.
"Really now? Let's take a look anyway," Ye Junlin replied, his expression sharpening.
With that, he dove toward the ground.
"Tch… boring."
Hong Qianye clicked his tongue and followed without much enthusiasm.
…
Peach Blossom Village
Flames roared into the sky. Smoke choked the air.
Once a peaceful, quiet village—now a vision of chaos.
Like livestock, dozens of villagers were herded into the central square by a group of vicious horse bandits. Anyone who tried to resist or flee was ruthlessly cut down—cleaved by long, curved sabers with brutal force.
Sobs, screams and begging.
The sounds of fear and despair echoed through the smoke-filled air.
An elderly man stepped forward, his white hair trembling as much as his frail body. He leaned on his cane, trying to protect his people with whatever dignity remained.
"Dear heroes… our village is poor. We have nothing but chickens, ducks, and sheep. If that's what you want, take it all. But please, spare the people…"
"Shut up!"
One of the bandits snarled and kicked him viciously in the chest.
The old village chief let out a cry and crumpled to the ground, coughing up blood as his body twisted unnaturally on the dirt.
There were nearly a hundred bandits in total. All of them had fierce faces, and each carried curved sabers at their side. They surrounded the terrified villagers—men, women, and children alike—forcing them into a trembling huddle.
"Captain, we've gathered everyone."
One of the bandits stepped forward respectfully.
From atop a tall, black horse rode the captain of the Black Wind Bandit Group.
Surprisingly, the man didn't look like a savage. With a gentle face and scholar's robes, he could've passed for a teacher in a private school. But the cold, calculating light in his eyes betrayed a mind far crueler than his appearance.
As his gaze swept the villagers, it paused on a pair—dressed in red wedding garments.
A newlywed couple.
The young man was tall, with honest features. The bride, youthful and delicate, wore a red veil partially lifted by the wind.
A smirk crept onto the captain's face. "Drag them out."
"Yes, boss!"
Several men rushed forward.
"No—!"
"Let go of us! Let go!"
The couple was shoved to the ground. Horror filled their eyes as they stared into the cruel eyes of the bandits.
The Black Wind captain dismounted, crouched before the bride, and tilted her chin up with two fingers.
"Well now," he said with a soft smile. "She's quite pretty."
"P-please…" the bride whimpered, her voice shaking.
"Let her go! Don't touch her!" the groom shouted, his face twisted in fear and rage.
The villagers looked away, unwilling to watch. They already knew where this was going.
But unexpectedly, the bandit captain asked calmly, "Do you love this man?"
The woman blinked, caught off guard. Then she nodded, voice trembling. "Yes… I love him."
The captain turned to the man. "And you?"
The groom, eyes red and brimming with emotion, shouted: "Of course I love her! We were childhood sweethearts. I worked for years just to marry her. I swore I'd take care of her for life!"
"Brother Tie Zhu…" the bride—Xiao Mei—choked on her tears.
The bandit captain was silent for a beat.
Then, without warning, he pointed to a random villager.
The men moved instantly.
One of them dragged the terrified man forward and—with a cold slash of his saber—severed his head clean from his shoulders.
Spurt!
A fountain of blood sprayed out. The head bounced and rolled across the ground, eyes wide in terror, mouth still open in a scream that would never finish.
"AHHHH!"
The villagers screamed in horror.
The Black Wind captain casually nudged the severed head with his foot, sending it rolling across the ground… until it stopped in front of Tie Zhu and Xiao Mei.
Xiao Mei recoiled, burying her face in her hands. Tie Zhu's skin turned white as ash.
The captain chuckled coldly.
"I suddenly had an idea."
He stared at the couple with amusement. "Let's play a game."
"You'll face off against each other. One round. The loser… dies."
He paused, voice icy. "But I'll be generous—take half a stick of incense. Talk it over. Choose who lives."
The couple froze in place.
Game?
Tie Zhu and Xiao Mei stared at each other, stunned.
The captain's smile vanished. "What? You don't want to play?"
His tone turned frigid.
"Fine. Then all of you can die."
"N-no! We'll play!" Tie Zhu blurted out in panic.
Better one death than a massacre…
The captain nodded. "Good. Let's begin."
Tie Zhu pulled Xiao Mei aside, crouching by a crumbling wall. He grabbed her hands tightly.
"Xiao Mei… I'll go with rock. You go with paper. That way, you'll win."
Her eyes welled with tears. "Brother Tie Zhu, don't… please don't…"
He smiled gently and touched her head. "I said I'd protect you for a lifetime."
"Then I'll wait for you in the next one," Xiao Mei sobbed.
The incense burned low.
A cold voice echoed through the square.
"Time's up. Bring them forward."
Two men dragged them back before the captain.
"Well then," the bandit leader said casually. "Let's begin."
Tie Zhu stared him down. "You swear—the one who wins lives?"
The bandits stirred. "How dare you question our captain?!"
But the captain raised a hand and said calmly, "I don't lie to the dying."
"Fine."
Tie Zhu exhaled.
He looked one last time at Xiao Mei.
"…Let's do it."
Before hundreds of horrified eyes—
The two newlyweds raised their trembling hands.
Rock. Paper. Scissors.
The moment the results were revealed—
Tie Zhu stared at their hands, completely stunned.
Rock.
Scissors.
He had played exactly as he said he would.
She hadn't.
A flicker of panic and disbelief crossed Xiao Mei's face.
Then her entire body collapsed in fear.
"I—I was wrong… I didn't mean to… Don't kill me! Please—don't kill me!!"
She dropped to her knees, sobbing uncontrollably, her cries filled with raw terror.