Zhang Xian was momentarily startled by Su Ling’s sudden appearance. He had heard that the Master of Heavenly Puppet Peak was elusive and unpredictable, but the rumors had not done her justice.

“Elder Su,” he began, setting down his teacup while adopting a probing tone. “Does your divine sense cover the entirety of the Yunmiao Sect?”

Su Ling remained dressed in her signature blue and white gown. She tapped the tabletop with a slender fingertip, and an invisible barrier instantly isolated the courtyard from the outside world.

“More or less,” she replied. Her voice was as clear and cold as a mountain spring, devoid of any emotional ripple.

She turned her gaze toward the puppet standing beside him. “This creation of yours is indeed special. Zhiyin did not exaggerate.”

“You flatter me, Elder Su,” Zhang Xian said with a forced, dry laugh.

Internally, he smirked. Of course it’s special; it’s a system-rewarded critical hit. The puppet that had been damaged at the Muling Sect still had an intact core. After being infused with the energy of over a hundred top-grade spirit stones, it had fully restored itself to its peak state.

“State your conditions,” Su Ling said, cutting straight to the point. “Or teach me the technique used to craft this puppet.”

“I don’t know any techniques,” Zhang Xian replied, spreading his hands with a helpless smile. “But I am willing to sell this one to you.”

“Sell it?” Su Ling nodded slightly. “How many spirit stones do you require?”

“I have no shortage of spirit stones,” Zhang Xian said, shaking his head.

Having just received massive returns from his gifts to Li Fuxi and Liu Qingxuan, spirit stones were merely numbers to him now.

“I see,” Su Ling said calmly. “You didn’t spare any expense when upgrading your flying ship, after all.”

She paused to reflect. “Then what is it that you desire?”

Zhang Xian’s eyes lit up. “I want rare and exotic treasures—materials of heaven and earth.”

Su Ling fell silent for a moment. Eventually, she withdrew a vibrant green leaf from her storage ring. It shimmered with a faint, divine light.

“An Earth-grade Qingqiao Leaf. If cultivated to maturity, it can be brewed into tea that significantly enhances one’s comprehension. However, no cultivation technique for it exists in the Southern Region. I have never dared to attempt growing it myself.”

Zhang Xian took the leaf, sensing a profound Dao charm radiating from it.

“Interesting,” he whispered. “Is this an ancient spiritual plant?”

“Correct,” Su Ling confirmed.

Zhang Xian stowed the leaf into his system space. “This will suffice. I accept.”

Su Ling thought for a moment longer, then produced a crimson crystal. A liquid fire seemed to flow within its heart.

“This is Rock Heart, a dual-attribute spiritual treasure of fire and earth. It increases spiritual energy absorption by thirty percent and grants a weak sixth sense for detecting hostility.”

She paused. “However, you cannot refine it yet.”

A spiritual treasure? This was the first time Zhang Xian had seen one. He took the crystal, feeling a searing heat pulse against his palm.

“What realm is required to refine such a thing?”

“The Golden Core stage,” Su Ling answered. “At the very least, one must be at the peak of Foundation Establishment, or the treasure will backlash. For someone of your aptitude, you would likely need to reach the fourth layer of the False Core stage.”

Zhang Xian nodded thoughtfully. With his system, the requirements weren’t an issue, but he couldn’t think of a candidate among his companions. Neither Li Fuxi nor the others possessed fire and earth attributes.

He wasn’t sure about Yun Wanqing’s attributes, as he had never seen her in true combat.

“I understand. Thank you, Senior Su,” he said, tucking the crystal away.

Su Ling shook her head. “It is still not enough. This puppet is at least Earth-grade. No one in the Southern Region can craft such a thing. I am beginning to grow curious about your true identity.”

She scrutinized him for a few heartbeats, making Zhang Xian feel exposed.

“I do not like owing favors,” she added in her flat tone.

“Then let us call it a connection—a friendship between us,” Zhang Xian laughed.

He had ten more of these puppets. Trading one for the favor of the Heavenly Puppet Peak Master was a steal.

He suspected that although the Su Ling before him was a puppet, the pressure she exerted was immense. If Supervisor Zhiyin was formidable, this Peak Master had to be an old Nascent Soul monster.

Su Ling withdrew an ancient, icy-blue command talisman carved with a snowflake pattern.

“This contains my sword intent,” she said, pushing it toward him. “It can unleash a strike at my full power.”

Zhang Xian accepted it solemnly. He could feel a terrifying force dormant within the wood, far surpassing the power of his ship’s cannons.

“Thank you, Elder Su.”

Zhang Xian released his ownership bond with the puppet. With a slight movement from Su Ling, the construct vanished.

“I shall take my leave,” she said.

“Elder, wait!” Zhang Xian interjected. He couldn’t let such a powerful figure leave without answering his deeper questions.

“Speak,” Su Ling said, reseating herself.

Zhang Xian turned serious. “I want to know if it is possible to create a flesh-and-blood puppet identical to oneself—and then transfer one’s own consciousness into it.”

“Did Yun Wanqing tell you about this?” Su Ling asked.

“I see… you were born without a spirit root. Even though yours is now top-grade wood, a False Core is still just a False Core. It will never truly equal a natural fifth-grade Golden Core. You wish to change bodies to be reborn?”

Zhang Xian nodded.

“It is difficult,” Su Ling sighed. “A century ago, the Cloud Raiment Pavilion sought my help for their young mistress, whose soul was injured. You can project consciousness onto a puppet, but there is one problem that cannot be solved.”

She shifted the topic slightly. “Who do you think is speaking with you right now?”

“Why… Elder Su, of course.”

“Do you believe this is the original body of Su Yuanshen?”

Zhang Xian blinked. “Is it not?”

“You are mistaken,” Su Ling said. “The one speaking to you is ‘Su Ling,’ not the master behind me.”

Seeing his bewilderment, she continued. “Zhiyin is on the same path—giving puppets their own consciousness.”

“So… you and Sister Zhiyin have autonomous minds? You aren’t just following commands?”

“Correct,” Su Ling nodded. “My actions are based on my own consciousness. My original body only sent me here to trade for your puppet. Everything else—our conversation, my judgments—is mine.”

Artificial intelligence, the thought flashed through Zhang Xian’s mind.

“So, back to your question,” Su Ling continued. “The master can control and command me, but we are two distinct individuals.”

A sudden realization struck Zhang Xian. It wasn’t because the masters of Heavenly Puppet Peak were perverts that they gave their puppets names and treated them like people; it was because they were cultivating the puppets’ consciousness.

“You should understand now,” Su Ling said. “No matter how perfect the avatar you create, even if it inherits your memories, it would only be a new ‘you.’ You cannot truly transfer your own soul. It wouldn’t be a rebirth—it would be a replacement.”

The distant cry of spirit cranes echoed through the air, making the silence in the courtyard feel heavy.

“So… that path is a dead end?” Zhang Xian murmured.

Su Ling’s voice carried a rare hint of melancholy. “My master once tried to project his entire consciousness into a puppet. He failed. He only succeeded in creating another version of himself. He eventually gave up, and that is how I came to be.”

“I understand,” Zhang Xian sighed.

So, the path to a perfect body through puppetry was already a proven failure.