"Lift your head."
Those four words weren't loud, yet carried an irresistible will, pulling Mo Fan's stiff neck slowly upward.
He finally saw clearly the true appearance of this Azure Cloud Sect Golden Core elder.
At first glance, Liu Yun was merely a kind-faced middle-aged scholar—black hair, white beard, ruddy complexion, extremely well-maintained, without a trace of mortal air about him.
But in Mo Fan's perception, he could tell that the person before him was no gentle elder whatsoever.
Beneath that seemingly calm shell lurked spiritual power fluctuations as terrifying as an active volcano. Those bottomless eyes resembled two rotating black holes—one glance could suck a person's soul in and grind it to dust.
Mo Fan's mind instantly flashed to the giant sword that imprisoned the void above Qingmu Town, and the blood-colored giant that vanished in an instant.
He forced himself to control his wildly beating heart, adam's apple rolling, eyes revealing the pure, undisguised awe and fear of a mortal facing divinity.
"In... in response to the Elder."
Mo Fan's voice was hoarse, carrying a tremor.
Liu Yun didn't immediately interrogate him. Like an elder making small talk, he asked some trivial matters about A-Song in a bland tone: "When was the child weaned? When did he learn to speak? Did he suffer any strange illnesses as a child?"
Mo Fan lowered his head, answering each question fluently. These were all in the original owner's memories and couldn't be faked.
"Clean background, some sentimentality."
Liu Yun nodded slightly, seemingly satisfied with the results of this "background check."
However, just as Mo Fan thought this ordeal was finally ending—
Liu Yun's line of questioning suddenly shifted, the surrounding air temperature plummeting.
"But there's one thing this seat doesn't understand."
Liu Yun stared into Mo Fan's eyes. Though his tone remained bland, it carried the sharpness of a dagger revealed, "Wang the fatty—I know his type. Won't release the hawk until seeing the rabbit, insatiably greedy."
"You're a servant who can barely feed himself, with a once-broken leg, yet for a picked-up orphan with no blood relation, you'd spare no expense to bribe your way to buying a slot."
Mo Fan's heart tightened.
"Don't tell me it's for familial affection."
Liu Yun's lips curved in a mocking sneer. "Familial affection is the cheapest thing in the cultivation world. If it were your blood brother, I'd believe it; but for an orphan with a different surname, without absolute certainty, who would gamble their entire fortune and life?"
An invisible spiritual pressure locked onto Mo Fan.
"Speak. What made you so certain he could test for Spirit Roots? And what made you feel he was worth doing this for?"
"If you can't explain clearly, this seat has reason to suspect you're a 'guide' planted among mortals by demonic cultivators, or some evil practitioner who understands fortune-reading dark arts."
Dead end.
This was a logical death knot. How could an ordinary servant have prophetic abilities? If he couldn't explain clearly, that was the greatest suspicion.
Mo Fan didn't immediately defend himself.
He froze in place, as if this question had pierced his psychological defense.
Then, on that somewhat honest face, an extremely complex bitter smile slowly appeared.
That smile contained self-mockery, resentment, and a trace of deep, bone-deep despair.
In this moment, no acting was needed.
Mo Fan drew upon the emotions remaining in this body—emotions belonging to the original Lu Xiaoqi that persisted even unto death.
"Elder..."
Mo Fan's voice was hoarse, like sandpaper scraping across a tabletop. "Do you... still remember an outer sect executive elder named Lin Dong from several years ago?"
Hearing this name, Liu Yun's ancient-well-like brows furrowed slightly.
Of course he remembered.
Lin Dong—that was the outer sect's famous "crackpot lunatic."
This man had mediocre talent yet was obsessed with researching some "mortals defying fate to change destiny" subject. He created a bunch of nonsense like "bone-reading spiritual detection," "bloodline atavism theory," "Spirit Root grafting method," turning proper cultivation into complete chaos.
Though the sect reprimanded him many times, he remained obstinate until a few years ago when an experimental accident destroyed his pill furnace. He disappeared from sight, reportedly assigned to guard mines.
"Lin Dong... what does that lunatic have to do with you?" Liu Yun asked.
"Five years ago."
Mo Fan raised his head, eyes somewhat unfocused, as if falling into that unbearable memory.
"Back then, I too was a youth with sky-high aspirations, dreaming of becoming immortal."
"Elder Lin Dong came to the servant quarters and felt me out among a group of children. He felt my spine, felt my skull bones—back then, his expression... was exactly like those elders looking at A-Song just now."
Mo Fan's body began trembling.
"He said I was 'a rare genius seen once in a hundred years.' He said my 'bone physiognomy secretly aligned with the Great Dao,' that I was a natural cultivation seedling."
"He lifted me to the heavens. Made me believe I truly was the chosen one, the protagonist."
"I was his test subject for a full year. Testing his bizarre medicines, practicing his inexplicable techniques. Even when the pain was killing me, I gritted my teeth and endured, because I believed what he said—that I would become an immortal ancestor someday."
At this point, Mo Fan laughed bitterly, tears flowing uncontrollably.
"And the result?"
"On Spirit Testing Ceremony day... that stele lit up with gray light. Five-element waste Spirit Roots."
"That Elder Lin Dong who constantly called me a genius—after seeing the results, merely looked displeased, dusted off his sleeves, said 'the data was erroneous,' then discarded me like trash back to the servant quarters. Never looked at me again."
Liu Yun fell silent.
This story was too real, and too consistent with Lin Dong's behavior. In that madman's eyes, people weren't people—just data and consumables.
"But what does this have to do with A-Song?" Luo Yu couldn't help asking.
"It's related... deeply related."
Mo Fan suddenly spun around, pointing toward where A-Song was taken, his finger trembling.
"I can't forget, Immortal Master."
"I can't forget that 'bone-reading method' Elder Lin Dong taught me—the only 'immortal technique' I learned in this lifetime. These past five years, even in my dreams I've repeated that sensation."
"That day... when I bathed A-Song, I felt his bones."
Mo Fan's voice lowered, carrying a nearly pathological obsession. "That sensation... was exactly the same as mine back then."
"Exactly the same!"
"I wanted to gamble."
Mo Fan raised his head, eyes bloodshot, staring directly at the Golden Core elder with the fearlessness of a small person after breakdown.
"I wanted to gamble my life. If he succeeded, it would prove Lin Dong's method was correct—that my fate was bad, that I myself was inadequate!"
"If he failed... it would prove it was a complete and utter fraud! Then I'd completely give up, honestly be a servant for life, never dream of cultivation again!"
This was a gambler's logic.
Obsessive, mad, yet entirely reasonable.
"But..."
Mo Fan's voice suddenly turned shrill, carrying a sobbing tone. "But the result... A-Song truly succeeded! He has Superior-grade Wood Spirit Roots! He's heaven's favored! The Sect Master's personal disciple!"
He crawled forward two steps, kneeling at Liu Yun's feet, head raised, issuing that question that had pressed on Lu Xiaoqi's heart for five years, each word written in blood:
"Then dare I ask the Elder..."
"Back then, Elder Lin Dong's theory—was it accurate or not?"
"If it was accurate, why is Lu Xiaoqi stuck in the mud?! Why are my Spirit Roots waste?!"
"If it was false, why could A-Song soar to the heavens?! Why, with identical bone physiognomy, are our fates different?!"
"Why?!!"
This roar echoed across the deathly silent plaza.
This wasn't merely Mo Fan's defense—it was the original Lu Xiaoqi's dead genius dream's final accusation against this unjust world.
I just want to know one answer.
Since A-Song is the same as I was back then... why am I waste Spirit Roots while he's Superior-grade?
Liu Yun looked at this servant before him, seemingly deranged, face streaming with tears. In those eyes that seemed capable of seeing through everything, the originally cold killing intent and scrutiny finally dissipated bit by bit.
In their place was a complex expression.
This reason was too flawless.
Lin Dong truly was a madman who would indeed do such things, treating people as lab rats. And a small person, using an orphan to project his own dreams to verify the "myth" of years past due to obsession—this was too consistent with human nature.
"Alas..."
A long sigh emerged from this Golden Core mighty one's mouth.
"Lin Dong's methods perhaps had some merit, but ultimately he walked a deviant path."
Liu Yun shook his head, his tone carrying a trace of pity. "A-Song's success is his fortune; your failure is your fate."
"The Great Dao is impartial—that's how it is."
He no longer doubted Mo Fan's motives.
In his eyes, this was merely a pitiful wretch whose life was ruined by a "crackpot," trying to find his own shadow in another orphan—just a tragic story.
"Forget it."
Liu Yun waved his sleeve, a gentle force lifting Mo Fan up.
"You've shown devotion. Since A-Song has entered under the Sect Master's tutelage, as his elder brother, the sect naturally won't treat you poorly."
He didn't give any substantial rewards, because for a "waste person," giving too much would instead be a disaster.
He merely withdrew what seemed an ordinary iron token from his sleeve, placing it in Mo Fan's hand.
"This is a token from this seat. In the future, if you encounter insurmountable difficulties in the outer sect, you may take this token to the Law Enforcement Hall and invoke this seat's name."
This was a protective talisman. Though it couldn't help Mo Fan improve his cultivation, within the outer sect's domain, this was equivalent to a death-exemption medallion.
"Thank you, Elder..." Mo Fan gripped the iron token, body still trembling from "excitement."
Luo Yu also stepped forward.
This proud personal disciple now looked at Mo Fan with added sympathy.
"Brother Xiaoqi."
Luo Yu changed his form of address, no longer calling him servant but following A-Song in calling him brother. He removed a storage pouch from his waist, stuffing it into Mo Fan's hands.
"After A-Song reaches the inner sect, I'll naturally look after him. These are modest gifts—inside are some Spirit Stones and several medicinal herbs suitable for mortals to extend life and strengthen the body. Take them back to nourish that elderly person."
He paused, saying softly, "In a few days, after A-Song formally takes a master and enters the sect, I'll have him write you a letter."
This was the so-called "when one person attains the Dao, even chickens and dogs ascend to heaven."
As long as A-Song this "genius" existed, as long as he remained the Sect Master's personal disciple, even Luo Yu, such a heaven's favored, had to treat Mo Fan this "waste brother" with kind words.
Indeed, times had changed.
"Let's go."
Elder Liu Yun took one last look at this village filled with joys and sorrows, waved his grand sleeve, and together with Luo Yu transformed into streaming light shooting skyward, disappearing into the clouds.
As the two bigshots departed, the pressure that had been weighing on everyone's heads finally dissipated.
Before Mo Fan could catch his breath and wipe the tears from his face—
Whoosh—
The surrounding reporters who'd long been unable to restrain themselves, like sharks smelling blood, instantly surged forward.
Countless recording stones flashed, countless recording devices nearly shoved into Mo Fan's nostrils.
"Xiaoqi! Xiaoqi!"
"What are your thoughts on this 'dead genius' theory?"
"You cried so miserably just now—was it jealousy?"
"As the waste brother, watching your younger brother soar to the heavens, will you become psychologically twisted? Do you hate Elder Lin Dong?"
"How do you plan to rely on your brother for retirement?"
Mo Fan looked at this pack of paparazzi who wanted nothing more than to tear open his scars for exhibition, his face covered in black lines.
He took a deep breath, silently saying to the vanished Lu Xiaoqi in his heart:
"Brother, I've noted your grievance. But right now... I need to make my escape first."