A flicker of approval crossed Su Yunmiao’s eyes.

“Correct,” she said, her nod slight. “A cultivator’s personal inner demons are ultimately constrained by their own consciousness. They are born of the self, and thus limited by the self. But this [Entity of Desire] exists on a tier far surpassing the cultivation realms of the Southern Region. Once it invades the mind, it does not merely whisper; it evicts the soul. The host becomes a meat puppet for the Entity.”

Zhang Xian felt a chill prickle his scalp. “Where does something like that even come from?”

“From another’s heart,” Su Yunmiao replied, her voice dropping an octave, heavy with gravity. “Have you heard of the concept of [Severing the Dao]?”

Zhang Xian blinked. “Severing the Dao? I’ve read about it in folklore. Something akin to severing the Three Corpses to achieve enlightenment?”

” The essence is similar,” Su Yunmiao explained. “When a great cultivator reaches an absolute bottleneck, trapped by the mortal dust of their own mental state and unable to achieve the clarity needed for ascension, there exists a forbidden method.”

She held up a hand, fingers graceful yet rigid.

“They sever their own Seven Emotions: Greed, Anger, Obsession, Hatred, Love, Aversion, and Desire. By physically cutting these concepts from their soul, they achieve a state of pure, unblemished vacuity.”

She lowered her hand. “But energy cannot be destroyed. These severed emotions transform into formless, intangible demons of immense power. The [Entity of Desire] you fought is one of these seven. As for which ancient titan severed these emotions, or why they have drifted to the Southern Region… even I do not know.”

Zhang Xian listened, dumbfounded.

Seven?

His mind reeled. One [Entity of Desire] had nearly corrupted a Nascent Soul and required a heavenly tribulation to repel. If there were seven of these Eldritch horrors roaming the world… the Southern Region wasn’t just in danger; it was already walking on the edge of a blade.

Su Yunmiao seemed to sense his internal panic. Her tone smoothed out, returning to its tranquil baseline. “Su Ling and I are bound by urgent matters here in Penglai. We cannot leave the island for several years. The storm brewing in the Southern Region… you and your generation must weather it yourselves. Unless the region faces total extinction, we will not intervene.”

Zhang Xian mentally sighed. As expected. The old monsters of the cultivation world always sat high on their mountains until the fire burned their own robes.

But he hadn’t come here just to beg for bodyguards.

He took a deep breath, his expression turning solemn. “I have another request. This disciple wishes to see Xingxiu.”

“Xingxiu?” Su Yunmiao was visibly startled. Her clear gaze swept over him again, sharper this time, peeling back his layers. Then, she shook her head firmly. “No. She cannot see you.”

“Why?”

“I cannot disclose the reason,” Su Yunmiao said, her voice brooking no argument. “Simply put, you cannot see her. Not for several years.”

A surge of irritation flared in Zhang Xian’s chest. He tamped it down, forcing his voice to remain steady. “And if this disciple insists?”

Su Yunmiao’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. The pressure in the courtyard spiked. “Why? Xingxiu is my personal disciple, raised by my side since she was a child. I do not recall her having any acquaintances outside the sect.”

Zhang Xian’s lips parted, then closed.

Lele was right there. She was on this island. To be so close and be turned away…

Su Yunmiao watched the raw emotion flicker across his face. A spark of realization lit her eyes.

“Unless…” she murmured, the pressure receding slightly. “Unless you are that brother of hers? The one long dead… Zhang Shan?”

Zhang Xian’s body went rigid. He snapped his head up, locking eyes with the Founder.

She knows.

After a long, suffocating silence, he slowly nodded. “I am.”

Su Yunmiao did not accuse him of deception. Her cultivation was profound enough to taste the truth in the air. She fell silent, her gaze complicated as she weighed the implications. Time seemed to stretch, thick and heavy.

Finally, she let out a soft sigh, tinged with an ancient weariness. “So that is how it is.”

She turned away, gesturing to the empty air. “Come with me. I will take you to her.”

Su Yunmiao’s projection raised a slender hand and tapped the void.

The air rippled like a stone cast into a still pond. Concentric circles of spatial distortion expanded, tearing open a stable portal in the fabric of reality.

“Follow.” She stepped through.

Zhang Xian took a breath to steady his racing heart and followed.

The world twisted. Light and shadow smeared into streaks of neon. Gravity lurched, followed by a wave of vertigo.

When his vision cleared, the salt breeze and sunlight were gone.

They stood in a vast, underwater sanctum. Above, a transparent dome held back the crushing weight of the ocean, the water casting dancing patterns of light across the floor. The ground was paved with warm, white jade. The silence was absolute, heavy with a pressure that made the air feel like lead.

Zhang Xian’s eyes were instantly drawn to the center of the chamber.

A massive, seven-colored spiritual barrier hovered there, humming with power. Inside the dome, the energy was volatile enough to stop a heart.

Five figures sat cross-legged around the formation’s core.

Zhang Xian recognized Su Ling and the true body of Su Yunmiao immediately. But his gaze skipped over the two Nascent Soul powerhouses as if they were statues.

His eyes locked onto the slender figure sitting at the very eye of the storm.

It was Lele.

Time had transformed her. The sun-baked, wheat-colored skin of the wild child was gone, replaced by a complexion as pale and delicate as porcelain. Her bird’s nest of hair now cascaded down her back like black silk. The dirt-smudged cheeks were flawless. She had grown into a beauty that could topple cities, exquisite as a painting brought to life.

She sat motionless, eyes closed. Her delicate brows were knitted together, a tight frown marring her features as if she were enduring a nightmare.

But Zhang Xian recognized her instantly.

That specific downward pull of the lips when she was unhappy. The curve of her eyelids. Two hundred years of separation collapsed in a single heartbeat. The celestial maiden before him superimposed perfectly over the memory of the scruffy little girl who used to trail behind him, eyes shining with adoration.

[Ding! Discovered 97-point Daughter of Destiny: Zhang Lele.]

“Lele…”

Zhang Xian’s throat seized. A tidal wave of emotion—relief, joy, and a sharp, stinging heartache at her frown—crashed over him. He stood frozen, drinking in the sight of her.

Then, his tactical mind kicked in, processing the scene.

She wasn’t just meditating. She was the keystone.

Su Yunmiao, Su Ling, and two other cultivators with terrifyingly deep auras sat at the four cardinal points. Torrential rivers of spiritual power poured from them, slamming into Lele at the center. They were not empowering her.

They were caging her.

“What is this?” Zhang Xian’s voice trembled, the words barely escaping his lips. He looked at the projection of Su Yunmiao beside him.

The avatar’s face was grim. “The Four Symbols True Defense Formation. A supreme sealing array powered by four Nascent Soul cultivators.” She paused, her eyes sad. “Lele is the core. And she is also the prisoner.”

Four Nascent Souls?

The blood drained from Zhang Xian’s face. To require that much power just to keep something contained…

“What is the formation for?” he demanded, his voice rising.

Su Yunmiao’s projection watched the frowning girl inside the barrier. “To suppress the [Entity of Obsession] currently fusing with her soul.”

“[Obsession]?!”

Zhang Xian staggered back as if struck. “Why her?!”

He spun on the Founder, his eyes blazing with shock, confusion, and a rising, volcanic fury.

“My sister… how did she become the vessel for such a monstrosity?”