For three days, the only souls Zhang Xian saw were the silent disciples delivering spirit fruits and pitchers of sweet spring water.

He reclined on a lounge chair in the center of his courtyard, watching the interplay of azure light filtering down through the ocean depths above. The rhythmic hum of the currents outside the barrier replaced the sound of wind. If he ignored the looming threat of assassination, it almost felt like a vacation.

Zhang Xian had sent several transmissions to Su Ling, but they vanished into the void like stones dropped in a deep well.

When he attempted to press Deputy Sect Master Qin Yuan for answers, the man offered only polite deflections. “Elder Su is at a critical juncture in her seclusion. Please, Master Zhang, cultivate patience.”

Paranoia naturally began to rot the edges of Zhang Xian’s calm. Had something happened to Su Ling? Was Penglai a trap?

No, he reasoned, suppressing the urge to pace. I am in the belly of the beast. If they wanted me dead, I would be chopped meat by now.

Forced into idleness, he decided to indulge.

He hollowed out a section of the courtyard, channeled seawater into the pit, and poured in flasks of [Dragon Saliva Jade Liquid]. The water instantly turned a milky, opalescent green, rolling with spiritual essence thick enough to chew.

Soaking in a bath that cost more than most sects earned in a decade, he opened his system interface. It was time to put his new Five Elements spiritual roots to use.

He skipped the orthodox cultivation manuals and went straight for the auxiliary arts. Specifically, Spirit Gathering Arrays.

Memories surfaced of his days as a lowly disciple, getting thrown out of array theory class alongside Zhen Hai for drooling on his desk. Now, with his aptitude maxed out, the intricate diagrams unraveled before his eyes like simple arithmetic.

He scanned the ancient texts. Most standard arrays utilized five anchor points—”eyes.” Higher-grade formations used eighteen or even thirty-six.

Then he found it. The [Heaven-Devouring Hexagram Array]. Sixty-four array eyes.

The text warned: Consumption of Spirit Stones is catastrophic. Not recommended for sustained use.

Zhang Xian’s eyes lit up.

“Sixty-four eyes?” He grinned, mentally calculating the burn rate. “This is practically bespoke tailoring. My only worry was that I wouldn’t be able to spend money fast enough.”

He immediately dove into the deductions, eager to master the art of burning currency for power.

Half a month later.

Zhang Xian was mentally simulating the thirty-sixth anchor point when the air in front of him shivered.

He snapped his head up. The space didn’t just blur; it rippled like a disturbed pond.

From the center of the distortion, a figure stepped into reality.

She was a vision of absolute purity, a woman composed of moonlight and morning mist. Her hair fell in a cascade of white silk, framing a face so beautiful it seemed to condense the spiritual energy of the world into physical form. Her robes were a simple cyan and white, yet they draped over her with the elegance of a celestial maiden descending from the Ninth Heaven.

[Ding! Discovered 89-point Daughter of Destiny: Su Yunmiao.] [Ding! Su Yunmiao’s Favorability towards you is 10. Binding successful.]

Zhang Xian’s heart hammered against his ribs. The name struck him like a thunderbolt.

Su Yunmiao. The Yunmiao Sect.

There were no coincidences in the cultivation world. This woman was the Founding Ancestor.

He scrambled out of his lounge chair and bowed deeply. “Disciple Zhang Xian pays his respects to the Supreme Elder.”

Su Yunmiao’s clear, gentle eyes swept over him. A flicker of genuine surprise disrupted her serene expression.

She remembered Su Ling’s report from mere months ago: False Core realm, unstable foundation, relies on external tools.

The young man standing before her now was a powerhouse. All five spiritual roots were present, humming with vitality—Wood led the harmony, supported by Water and Metal. His cultivation sat firmly at the peak of the mid-Golden Core stage.

How much time has passed? She wondered. To rebuild a foundation and climb so high in months… it is unheard of.

Her gaze drifted to the pile of top-grade Spirit Stones kicked carelessly into a heap, then to the bath radiating the priceless scent of Dragon Saliva Jade Liquid.

Heavenly Puppet Peak was right to protect him, she mused. This child is not just a genius; he is a treasury in human form.

“No need for such formalities,” Su Yunmiao said. Her voice was warm, carrying a strange, soothing resonance that settled the spirit.

Zhang Xian remained bowed for a second longer, his mind racing. The founder is alive. And she looks younger than half the disciples.

“Su Ling and I have been locked in deep seclusion handling critical matters,” she explained, her tone casual. “I cannot leave just yet. This form before you is merely a spiritual projection sent to greet you.”

A projection?

Zhang Xian suppressed a shiver. The presence radiating from her was as deep as an abyss. Even restraining her aura, she felt more “real” than the solid stone beneath his feet. If this was a fake body, her true cultivation was beyond his comprehension.

“May I ask why you sought Elder Su so urgently?” she inquired.

Zhang Xian straightened his posture. He cut the pleasantries and launched into a concise report of the Demon Sweeping Assembly. He detailed the ambush by the Nascent Soul shadow, Long Zhi’s tribulation, and the strange abilities of their attacker.

“Regrettably,” he finished, “this disciple failed to secure the title of Champion.”

“I am aware of the outcome,” Su Yunmiao said with a faint nod. “Do you have any theory regarding the identity of that shadow?”

Zhang Xian met her gaze. “I suspect it is Xuan Zhou, the man who vanished two centuries ago. During our clash, I used words to provoke him. His spirit fluctuated—he hesitated. It’s not definitive proof, but the suspicion is heavy.”

A glint of interest sharpened Su Yunmiao’s eyes.

“It would be logical for him to want you dead,” she agreed. “But to disappear for so long and return as a Nascent Soul…” She paused. “Did you manage to capture any residue of his power during the fight?”

“I did.”

Zhang Xian produced a transparent crystal vial sealed with heavy talismans. Inside, wisps of black smoke writhed like trapped snakes. Beside it, he laid out a spirit sword, its blade dull and chipped.

Su Yunmiao’s eyes skipped over the vial and landed on the sword. She offered him a look that was equal parts amusement and scrutiny.

“The Thunder Chant Sword of the Spirit Ruins Sect?” She arched a delicate eyebrow. “Wasn’t this given to the dragon girl, Long Zhi? Why is it in your possession?”

Zhang Xian froze. “Uh… that is a long story. Fellow Daoist Long’s weapon was destroyed defending me. I gifted her a replacement. She, uh, insisted on pawning this damaged one to me as collateral.”

“Collateral?” Su Yunmiao’s lips quirked upward. “Are you sure you two didn’t just exchange tokens of love?”

Zhang Xian felt the blood rush to his face. “Elder, please. She is a dragon; I am a human. Do not tease this disciple.”

Su Yunmiao chuckled, the sound like wind chimes. She stopped her teasing and turned her attention to the vial.

She extended a slender finger. With a subtle beckoning motion, a strand of the black mist leaked through the seal. It coiled around her fingertip, sensing the life force, and tried to burrow into her skin.

It vanished upon contact, dissolved by her power.

Su Yunmiao’s expression darkened slightly. She stood silent for a long moment.

“This negative energy,” she finally said. “It is [The Entity of Desire].”

“Desire?” Zhang Xian frowned.

“Not simple lust,” she corrected, her voice turning grave. “I speak of the Primordial Entity. It amplifies the strongest obsessions within a living soul. It takes a single crack in the will and wedges it open until the host is twisted into a slave of their own want.”

She looked at the empty air where the smoke had vanished.

“Your theory about Xuan Zhou is likely correct. I knew of him. His obsession was his daughter—she was born with a congenital deficiency, destined to die young. He likely sought the Forbidden Arts to save her, using those harvested white life essences.”

“But those essences were tainted,” Zhang Xian realized.

“Correct. They are filled with the resentment of the victims. Forcibly using them would never save his daughter; it would only invite backlash,” Su Yunmiao explained. “His desperation to save her became his flaw. That is where [The Entity of Desire] found its entry point.”

Zhang Xian narrowed his eyes. “Entry point? Supreme Elder, are you saying this entity is not a heart-demon born from his own psyche, but something… external?”

“Exactly,” Su Yunmiao nodded, her gaze turning cold. “It is a parasite from beyond. And it found a perfect host.”