Alchemy was an art Gu Xiu had dabbled in while studying under Xu Wanqing at Jade Pill Peak. He wasn’t a master, but he wasn’t entirely in the dark.

Normally, refining Immortal Medicine would be impossible for someone of his current cultivation. Fortunately, the Earth Cloud Sprout was unique. Its processing requirements were minimal; as long as the complementary materials were sufficient, even a novice could coerce it into a usable form.

Gu Xiu tossed the meticulously prepared reagents into the furnace. While the flames licked the cauldron, he retrieved a terrifying artifact from his spatial ring.

The Soul-Shattering Grindstone.

Just looking at it made his spirit tremble. It was a torture device he had forged himself over the past few days, a conceptual weapon designed to grind a soul into dust, grain by agonizing grain.

It was an instrument of execution. But Gu Xiu did not intend to use it on an enemy.

He had built it for himself.

According to the forbidden texts, a Dao Injury was like a maggot burrowing into the bone—it fused with the soul. As long as the soul remained whole, the injury would persist. To remove the parasite, one had to destroy the host.

Break down, and then rebuild.

Under normal circumstances, this was suicide. A shattered soul meant death. But Gu Xiu had two fail-safes: the Golden Feather Soul Pill and the Earth Cloud Sprout. With these two supreme treasures, he could continuously regenerate his soul even as he ground it to dust, effectively scrubbing the Dao Injury away through a cycle of destruction and rebirth.

The furnace hummed. The medicinal liquid was ready.

Gu Xiu retrieved the Earth Cloud Sprout. He peeled back the suppression talismans, and for a split second, a terrifying, ancient aura flooded the room. He moved quickly, pinching the tender green shoot and dropping it into the boiling liquid.

The fusion was instantaneous.

A quarter of an hour later, Gu Xiu poured the shimmering, emerald decoction into a bowl. The fragrance alone cleared his mind. Without hesitation, he drank it in one gulp.

BOOM!

A revitalizing torrent exploded within him, flooding his spiritual sea with raw, verdant life. His soul felt robust, invincible.

But the dark stain of the Dao Injury remained, an ugly scar on perfection.

“It begins,” Gu Xiu whispered.

He placed the Golden Feather Soul Pill atop his head to act as a secondary anchor, then activated the Soul-Shattering Grindstone.

GRIND.

Gu Xiu convulsed. Cold sweat instantly drenched his robes.

Pain. Absolute, white-hot pain.

It was not physical. It was the sensation of his very essence being fed into a millstone. It was worse than death by a thousand cuts; it was the annihilation of the self.

Beside him, the little black monkey and the Carefree Pendant panicked, vibrating with distress. They wanted to help, but Gu Xiu’s earlier commands froze them in place.

Through the haze of agony, Gu Xiu forced his eyes open. He saw their terror and managed a smile that was uglier than weeping.

“Don’t worry,” he rasped, his voice trembling but steady. “Compared to five hundred years in the Forbidden Realm… this is nothing much.”

He wasn’t lying. The physical sensation was excruciating, but his mind remained iron. As the grindstone turned, he felt his soul fracture—and in the cracks, he saw the Dao Injury crumbling away.

It was working.

He gritted his teeth and spun the wheel faster.

High above the city, the Heavenly Dao Rhymes swirled in a chaotic dance, agitated by the defiance of natural law occurring in the Listening-to-Rain Pavilion.

In a dark alleyway, a middle-aged Confucian scholar stopped, his eyes lighting up. He held a talisman in his hand, glowing with a singular, complex character: Mi (Seek).

It was a tracking talisman of the highest order, capable of sniffing out anomalies in the Dao itself.

“Why are the Dao Rhymes so violent tonight?” the scholar muttered, fear creeping into his voice. “It feels as if the heavens themselves are disgusted. As if… if I take one wrong step, the world will end.”

Despite the dread, he pressed on. The talisman pulled him forward, leading him through the winding streets until he stood before a humble residence.

Listening-to-Rain Pavilion.

“It’s here,” the scholar whispered. “The mysterious force that triggered the Homage of Ten Thousand Rhymes… it’s inside.”

He hesitated. A terrifying fluctuation of soul energy leaked from the building—chaotic, pained, and far stronger than any Nascent Soul cultivator should possess.

“I have no time,” the scholar, Yin Wenshu, reminded himself, his face hardening. “If Gu Xiu finds out I haven’t fulfilled the agreement… I am dead anyway.”

The memory of his promise to Gu Xiu hung over him like a blade. He had delayed for three years. He could not delay another night.

He reached for the door handle.

“Teacher?”

Yin Wenshu froze, as if struck by lightning.

He turned slowly. Standing behind him, eyes wide with disbelief and joy, was a woman in white robes.

Qin Meran.

Yin Wenshu felt his blood turn to ice.

“Teacher! It really is you!” Qin Meran rushed forward, her usual icy demeanor melting into the excitement of a young girl. “I have searched for you for so long! I thought you had met with misfortune! Why didn’t you come to the Azure Mystic Sect to find me?”

She reached out, her face glowing with genuine affection. “Teacher…”

To Qin Meran, this was a reunion. This was Yin Wenshu, the man who had taught her the Dao of Talismans, the mentor she respected above all others.

“Enough!”

Yin Wenshu roared, slapping her hand away. He stepped back, his face twisted in revulsion.

“You hypocritical, vicious woman!” he spat. “You have already found me. Do you still need to wear this mask?”

Qin Meran froze, her smile shattering. “W-What? Teacher?”

“Where is Gu Xiu?” Yin Wenshu demanded, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and hatred.

“Gu Xiu? Teacher, why are you…”

“Stop pretending!” Yin Wenshu cut her off with a sneer. “You tracked me down because you want me to fulfill the agreement I made with Gu Xiu, didn’t you? Don’t call me ‘Teacher.’ It makes me sick.”

He glared at her, his eyes filled with venom. “You are just here for the ‘Seek’ Rune, aren’t you?”

Qin Meran took a step back, tears welling in her eyes. The cognitive dissonance was hammering at her mind. First Cao Tieniu accused her of theft, and now her beloved mentor was looking at her like she was a monster.

“Teacher, what are you saying?” she pleaded, her voice cracking. “I am Meran! Your proudest student! You used to praise me for distinguishing right from wrong, for understanding the principles of the world…”

“I said, shut up!”

Yin Wenshu interrupted her again, his expression cold and final.

“Yes, I owe Gu Xiu my life. Yes, the ‘Seek’ Rune was entrusted to me by him, to be given to you when the time was right.”

“I, Yin Wenshu, do not deny my debts.”

“But you, Qin Meran.” He pointed a shaking finger at her face. “Look at yourself. This act… this endless, self-righteous hypocrisy… do you not find yourself disgusting?”