“Hahaha!”

Zhang Xian threw his head back and laughed, shouting at the ashen-faced Daoist Qianji. “Old ghoul! You traded a half-wrecked puppet for over a dozen of my Earth-Grade Thunder Talismans. You made a killing on that exchange! Pure profit!”

Beneath his mask, Daoist Qianji’s mouth twitched uncontrollably.

These weren’t simple wood and metal constructs. These flesh-and-blood puppets were refined from the mutilated remains of powerful cultivators. The higher the cultivation realm, the rarer the materials and the longer the refinement process. Losing even a single Golden Core peak puppet caused him physical heartache!

But Zhang Xian was the type to press his advantage until the bitter end. His gaze, sharp as lightning, instantly locked onto another puppet—one that had just lost a leg to Zhiyin’s blade.

“Here, have another!”

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Dozens more Earth-Grade Thunder Talismans flew out as if they were trash paper. The sky lit up with blinding arcs of electricity, instantly locking onto the crippled target.

Under Daoist Qianji’s horrified gaze, another precious flesh-and-blood puppet was reduced to ash.

“Look at that! You won again!” Zhang Xian jeered.

“You bastard!” Daoist Qianji roared, his composure finally cracking.

Not far away, the battlefield shifted abruptly.

A dense, earthy-yellow light shield materialized around Li Fuxi, forming a solid spherical cage that trapped her inside. The barrier flowed with heavy energy, completely isolating her from the outside world.

Simultaneously, the Wangchuan puppet—which had been locked in a fierce duel with Li Fuxi—froze. It immediately pivoted, abandoning her to charge straight at Zhang Xian, its golden sword aura swelling with lethal intent.

Inside the cage, Li Fuxi slashed furiously at the barrier. Her spirit sword struck the walls, rippling the energy but failing to break through.

Outside, the tall, hulking figure of the Wang Pan puppet stood with both palms pressed against the shield. He was pouring endless earth-attribute spiritual power into the structure, maintaining its impregnable defense.

Slowly, his metallic face turned toward Li Fuxi inside the barrier. His throat worked, emitting a raspy, mechanical voice that somehow carried a terrifyingly familiar warmth.

“Little Junior Sister… just rest for a while.”

The words traversed two hundred years of time and slammed into Li Fuxi’s heart like a sledgehammer.

For a split second, she was back at Spirit Sword Peak, a timid young girl who had just joined the sect. Whenever she followed her Eldest Senior Brother and Second Senior Sister down the mountain for training, whenever danger loomed, Eldest Senior Brother would always smile gently.

“Little Junior Sister, you rest for a while.”

Then, he would cast this exact shield over her, standing tall to protect her from the world.

The memories surged like a tidal wave. But instead of warmth, they brought a scalding, overwhelming fury.

“AHHH!”

Li Fuxi let out a shriek of grief and indignation. Her spirit sword erupted with blinding blue light as she slashed wildly at the cage, hacking at the memory of her brother’s protection.

On the other side, facing the sudden ambush of the Wangchuan puppet, Zhang Xian didn’t panic. He grinned.

“Finally, a decent sparring partner.”

He spun on his heel, a longsword appearing in his hand, flowing with spiritual light. As he raised the blade, his stance shifted. It carried the ethereal agility of the Cloud Mist Sword Scripture and the majestic, crushing weight of the Heavenly Palace Azure Cloud Sword.

It was the exact fusion sword art Li Fuxi had spent days in seclusion trying to perfect.

“What?”

Trapped inside the shield, Li Fuxi caught a glimpse of Zhang Xian’s movements. Her heart skipped a beat. She had poured her blood and sweat into merging those two great arts and had only just scratched the surface.

Zhang Xian had seen it once. And he had already mastered it?

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Sparks flew as Zhang Xian and the Wangchuan puppet clashed, fighting to a standstill.

“Grandmaster, are you testing your grand-disciple’s skills?” Zhang Xian stared straight into the dead eyes of the Wangchuan puppet, his mouth running as fast as his sword.

The puppet remained silent, its movements becoming stiffer and more mechanical.

“Tsk!” Zhang Xian curled his lip. “You were chatty enough with Xi’er. Why the silent treatment for your most outstanding grand-disciple? That’s blatant favoritism!”

Nearby, the Wang Pan puppet ignored the chaos. He kept his hands on the shield, continuing his eerie, earnest conversation with the trapped Li Fuxi.

“Little Junior Sister, how is Second Senior Sister doing? Why haven’t I seen her?”

“It’s been so long. Back then, you were just a little Foundation Establishment girl.”

“Did you practice diligently yesterday? No slacking off?”

“Did you practice diligently yesterday? No slacking off?”

The repetition struck Li Fuxi’s mind like a physical blow.

Her body stiffened. She looked through the translucent barrier at the face of her Eldest Senior Brother. A chill unlike anything she had ever felt crawled up her spine.

The memory of the morning assemblies at Spirit Sword Peak flashed before her eyes. Eldest Senior Brother Wang Pan, always smiling, walking down the line to inspect her and Second Senior Sister. His first question was always the same.

And she and Second Senior Sister would always blush and shout at the top of their lungs: “No!!”

Then they would train until they dropped.

“How is Spirit Sword Peak now?” The puppet continued, stuck in its loop of care.

“Enough!” Li Fuxi screamed.

The Wang Pan puppet paused, its head tilting slightly. “Hmm?”

It was the first time she had responded to him.

“I SAID ENOUGH!!”

Li Fuxi’s roar erupted like a dormant volcano. The power of her Dual Heavenly Spirit Roots ignited completely. The blue light on her blade intensified tenfold, and a storm of soul-freezing frost exploded outward from her core.

CRACK! CRACK!

The supposedly indestructible [Profound Yellow Mountain-Suppressing Boulder] shield began to fracture. The metallic arms of the Wang Pan puppet, still pressed against the barrier, shattered inch by inch under the extreme cold and violent sword intent, turning into a cloud of ice crystals.

BOOM!

Li Fuxi shattered the cage and stepped out, looking like a descending Goddess of Ice and Snow.

She gazed at the broken, mutilated puppet of Wang Pan. Her eyes held a storm of complex emotions—reluctance, pain, grief—but they eventually settled into a clear, icy resolve.

“Eldest Senior Brother…”

She looked at the puppet, but her gaze seemed to focus on something far, far away.

“Spirit Sword Peak is doing very well. I’ve taken in a few disciples. They are far more outstanding than we ever were.”

She paused, as if bidding a final farewell to a lifetime of memories.

“You can rest in peace now.”

With those words, her spirit sword transformed into a pillar of absolute zero light, piercing through heaven and earth to engulf the Wang Pan puppet. The terrifying cold froze time itself.

The puppet—along with the residual flesh, blood, and metallic bones inside it—disintegrated into glittering dust, vanishing into nothingness.

Li Fuxi didn’t pause for even a breath. She spun around, her sword edge turning toward the Wangchuan puppet battling Zhang Xian.

“Kill!”

The Wangchuan puppet was already struggling to match Zhang Xian. With Li Fuxi joining the fray, it was instantly pushed to the brink of collapse.

Just then, a streak of light cut across the horizon.

Lin Xiaozhu arrived, drifting gracefully atop a Bagua array disk.

“Xiaozhu!” Xia Chengyan shouted, his spirits lifting. “I’m almost done here! How did it go on your end?”

“The two Nascent Soul seniors of the Lingxu Sword Sect have personally slain the Black Venerable. The demon’s minions have been purged.”

Before her sentence ended, she swooped down from the array disk like a diving swan. Her hand flicked out, launching a profound talisman seal that stamped directly onto the Star Concealment puppet lurking on the perimeter of the formation.

The Star Concealment puppet froze instantly, as if its strings had been cut, and crashed to the ground.

Lin Xiaozhu’s arrival was the final straw.

Daoist Qianji’s face darkened to the color of charcoal. He glanced at the few remaining flesh-and-blood puppets on the field, then at the Wangchuan puppet being systematically dismantled by Li Fuxi and Zhang Xian.

A flash of intense financial agony crossed his eyes.

“Hmph! I will remember the ‘gift’ you gave me today!” Daoist Qianji barked.

He waved his sleeve violently.

Whoosh! Whoosh!

Invisible threads tightened, and the remaining puppets were instantly sucked into his sleeves. The Wangchuan puppet was yanked backward uncontrollably, retreating into the void.