“Of course, wanting to be reborn is actually quite simple,” Su Ling continued.

“What?” Zhang Xian asked, leaning forward.

“You transform yourself into a puppet.”

“The flesh is weak, ascend through machinery?” Zhang Xian blurted out.

“The flesh is weak, ascend through machinery,” Su Ling repeated the phrase silently, as if tasting it. “A concise summary. However, for you cultivators, there is a compromise.”

“What method?”

“Shatter your current form and regenerate your flesh and blood.”

“That’s it?” Zhang Xian was stunned. The answer was as empty as it was illusory, sounding even more impossible than borrowing a shell for rebirth.

He suddenly recalled the events of a hundred years ago—being blown to pieces in the mountains only to have his body knit itself back together. That had been a true instance of shattering and regenerating, but it had relied entirely on a divine-grade Nine Revolutions Nirvana Pill.

Where would one even find such a pill today? Thinking of this, a wave of fury washed over him. He had been given the system’s ultimate benefits, only to be struck down in his prime.

That bitch, Nangong Yao!

“My master only said this much,” Su Ling added. “Alternatively, you could advance to the Soul Formation stage, project your primordial spirit, and seize someone else’s body.”

In the days that followed, Zhang Xian lived a life of relative leisure—if being subjected to the bewildered and judgmental stares of the entire sect counted as “leisure.”

Li Fuxi’s attitude had turned so ice-cold that she seemed like a different person. Every time Zhang Xian went to pay his respects, he was either dismissed with a curt “I am cultivating” or left to wait outside her courtyard for hours.

If the system didn’t show that her Favorability remained intact, he would have been certain he had committed some unforgivable sin.

Lin Yinyin, meanwhile, had gone into total seclusion in a cave dwelling at the back of the mountain. She left a note pinned outside: “Will not emerge until Golden Core.”

The handwriting was forceful and resolute, though Zhang Xian wondered how long her determination would last. He couldn’t fathom where she had found the motivation.

Usually, she was lazy by habit; her only previous drives for cultivation had been to acquire top-grade magical artifacts or the ability to fly among the stars. Her sudden diligence left him baffled.

Finally, there was Liu Qingxuan. Zhang Xian visited Green Wood Peak twice, but each time she saw him, she bolted like a startled fawn. Eventually, she too entered seclusion, leaving him a brief message.

“The whole sect is gossiping about our affair. Wait until I recover to the sixth layer of the Golden Core before you come looking for me.”

Zhang Xian chuckled. Liu Qingxuan was simply too thin-skinned. He, on the other hand, felt nothing, even if the disciples looked at him like a lecher who had defiled a Saintess.

He weighed the Earth-grade Qingqiao Leaf in his hand. With all three of his fated companions avoiding him, he couldn’t even give the gift away.

He considered sending it to Yun Wanqing but quickly dismissed the idea. That woman only cared about her daughter; she wouldn’t appreciate an unfinished seedling forced upon her.

And so, Zhang Xian fell back into a routine: practicing swordplay by day and soaking in the hot springs by night. Though, he had to admit, soaking alone felt a bit lonely.

He kept a close ear to the news from the outside world. He heard that Elder Wangya had traveled to the Great Xia Imperial Dynasty, gathered a formidable cohort, and marched on the Mountain Chan Monastery to demand answers.

He had apparently caused a massive scene, berating the monks until they were too ashamed to lift their heads. The monks maintained that Jianchen had vanished a century ago and claimed total ignorance regarding his sudden surge in power or his use of forbidden techniques.

The two sides were currently locked in a diplomatic tug-of-war, though it was rumored Wangya had already managed to “extract” several treasures from them as compensation.

However, the news that truly shook the Southern Region came from another front. The investigation team led by Elder Xingyin had tracked the remnants of the Muling Sect.

Using divination and following a trail of breadcrumbs, they discovered a second minor world. Like the Great Liang Kingdom, this world was devoid of spiritual energy and was meant to be home to billions of mortals, according to century-old records.

When Elder Xingyin’s team arrived, they found a wasteland. There were no people, no livestock, no insects—not even a blade of withered grass. As far as the eye could see, there was only white bone and endless, swirling yellow sand.

The entire minor world had been stripped of its vitality.

The news sent a shockwave of righteous fury through the Southern Region. While evil cultivators were often compared to rats in a sewer—hunted but never eradicated—the total extinction of a minor world was an atrocity beyond anything ever recorded.

Proclamations of war were issued, led by the Great Xia Imperial Dynasty. Flying vessels from every major sect took to the skies to hunt down the perpetrators.

Amidst the chaos, Zhang Xian received a secret transmission from the Cloud Raiment Pavilion: Elder Xingyin had located Jianchen’s hideout and was closing the trap.

Two thousand li outside Shuiyun City, four massive flying vessels hovered over an inconspicuous, abandoned mine shaft.

A sprawling formation had been deployed, isolating heaven and earth for a thousand miles. Ten late-stage Golden Core cultivators were required just to keep the barrier stable.

Elder Xingyin sat cross-legged before a swirling vortex—a void gate. One hand formed seals to condense energy, while the other used chain formations to keep the gate from collapsing or moving.

“Is he here?” he asked solemnly.

Several figures blurred into existence beside him, each radiating an immense presence. Among them were Wangya, Zhiyin, and Liu Huaigu. They were joined by a red-robed monk and two generals clad in heavy armor.

The monk was Mingsong, Vice Dean of the Mountain Chan Monastery. The generals were Han Lie and his son, Han Yichen, both Grand Generals of the Great Xia Imperial Dynasty. All three were at the peak of the Golden Core realm.

“Elder Xingyin, what is the status?” the young general Han Yichen asked.

“Supervisor Zhiyin has already gone inside to investigate,” Xingyin replied.

The Zhiyin puppet standing on the deck added, “I haven’t sensed anything wrong with her yet. According to our plan, she should emerge within three hours.”

The group nodded. Relying on his divination, Xingyin had tracked Jianchen to this secret realm hidden within a private mine. He had suppressed the entrance immediately to prevent it from vanishing.

For safety, they had sent a Zhiyin puppet in first; a puppet could be sacrificed without risk to a soul. However, since secret realms isolate space, the puppet couldn’t maintain a real-time link to transmit information.

Wangya stared at the entrance, whispering, “A pale white vortex shimmering with five-element light… it looks just like any other minor world.”