Han Yu’s jaw tightened as he processed Zhong Yue’s first few words.

This girl had been dangerously loose-lipped back at the Hundred Herb Pavilion, and nothing had changed. Now, with her white Spirit Dog sniffing around him, she was once again loudly proclaiming that he carried spirit herbs.

Though she seemed to lack malice—merely urging him to use the resources to reach the third layer of Qi Refining and enter the Outer Sect—her naivety grated on his nerves. In the cultivation world, hearts were hidden behind layers of flesh. Speculating openly about another cultivator’s possessions was a major taboo, one that could get people killed.

However, her final comment caught him off guard.

“Another Exceptional Promotion Order? Even Laborer Disciples have to participate in a Grand Competition?”

“Yes, I heard it from an Inner Sect senior sister,” Zhong Yue nodded seriously. “Our Wanchun Valley isn’t in a good spot right now. When push comes to shove, even Laborer Disciples have to earn their keep.”

Han Yu raised an eyebrow. “I haven’t seen any enemies for nearly a month.”

“Just because they haven’t attacked the gates doesn’t mean the danger is gone. The situation hasn’t really improved. Everyone at the Main Peak—Inner and Outer Disciples alike—is swamped with tasks,” she explained. “If the conflict was truly over, would the sect still be making such frantic preparations?”

True…

Han Yu pressed further. “Does that mean the sect might exceptionally promote a disciple at the second layer of Qi Refining to the Outer Sect?”

“If you excel in spells and stand out in the Laborer Disciple Grand Competition, the new order might very well grant you entry.”

Han Yu’s heart stirred. If that were true, he could potentially reveal his cultivation at the second layer of Qi Refining and legitimately become an Outer Disciple.

But then he remembered his other secret: the third layer of Blood Refining. If he went to the Main Peak and came under the scrutiny of Foundation Establishment Deacons and Elders, the risk of exposure was too high. For now, he dismissed the idea.

“Thank you for the reminder, Senior Sister.”

He paused, then added a word of caution. “However, I must also offer you some advice. While your Spirit Dog’s nose for herbs is impressive, you should keep it on a tighter leash. Do not let it investigate others so freely. In the future, such behavior will only bring you trouble.”

Zhong Yue flushed, offering an apologetic smile. “I… I really am quite embarrassed. I’ll be more careful!”

She looked down at the dog. “Bad Xiao Bai! Did you hear that? If you disobey me again, I’m cutting your rations. You’ll starve!”

The white Spirit Dog whimpered pathetically.

Satisfied, Zhong Yue urged her Plantain Leaf into the air. As she ascended, she called out one last promise.

“Junior Brother, if you ever need help, just send word! I owe you a favor as an apology!”

Han Yu watched the girl fly toward the Main Peak until she was a speck in the sky, then turned back to his stone hut.

In a nearby hut, the atmosphere was far less cordial.

Tian Qing and Hui Ling ate in silence, the food tasting like ash in their mouths. Both wore grim expressions.

Tian Qing slammed his bowl down and stood up, his face cold.

Hui Ling couldn’t hold back her insecurity. “Brother Qing… have you taken a fancy to that Outer Sect Senior Sister?”

“Nonsense,” Tian Qing snapped, not even bothering to look at her.

Hui Ling knew him too well. She knew how easily his words drifted from his true thoughts. Her eyes rimmed with red. “Brother Qing, you promised… You said that as long as I got you into Wanchun Valley, you would treat me well. You said we would be an immortal couple for a lifetime, that you would never despise me.”

“So what?” Tian Qing’s voice was ice. “Did I get into Wanchun Valley because of you? The sect issued an Exceptional Promotion Order for Rogue Cultivators. I got in on my own merit. What does that have to do with you?”

Hui Ling sat frozen, tears streaming silently down her face. She felt wronged, but she dared not anger the man she loved. She swallowed her words.

The more Tian Qing looked at her, the more repulsed he felt. “Cry, cry, cry. That’s all you know how to do!”

“If I had known you were this useless, I never would have let you cultivate my profound arts! You, a lowly Laborer Disciple, are lucky to even be associated with me, the sole heir of the Thousand Illusions Sect. And yet you dare criticize me?”

Hui Ling lowered her head, weeping without sound.

She had met Tian Qing over a year ago at the Green Grain Market. He was handsome, charming, and knew exactly what to say to make her heart flutter. She had fallen for him completely, promising to find a way to smuggle him into the sect.

Back then, she was just a Laborer Disciple. Now, they had both infiltrated the sect, but the happiness she envisioned had dissolved. Tian Qing’s greedy gaze toward the Senior Sister broke her heart.

As for this “Thousand Illusions Sect,” she had never heard of it. The only thing special about him was a secret technique of transformation and concealment—a trick that allowed a former Laborer like her to deceive the Deacons and sneak back in. Beyond that, he had nothing. He certainly didn’t look like the heir to anything.

Around noon, footsteps approached Han Yu’s stone hut.

“Senior Brother? It’s Wei Xiaoluo. I’ve come to ask for advice.”

Han Yu opened the door. “Junior Brother Wei, what is it?”

The boy looked up with a bright, ingratiating smile. “I haven’t asked for Senior Brother’s esteemed name yet.”

“Han. Han Yu.”

“Senior Brother Han!” Wei Xiaoluo bowed slightly. “I wanted to ask… there used to be a female disciple in Wanchun Valley named Wei Kunyi, from the Nanli Kingdom. Have you heard of her?”

Han Yu was surprised but kept his face neutral. “Wei Kunyi? She was a Laborer Disciple here at the Spirit Field Department. I knew her.”

Wei Xiaoluo’s eyes lit up. “And now? Where has she gone?”

“What is she to you?”

“I’m a child born of a concubine in the Wei family. Technically, she’s my elder sister, but I’m too young and my status is low, so we’ve never met,” Wei Xiaoluo explained quickly. “She used to contact the family representatives at the Green Grain Market every month or two, but recently, she went silent. The family was uneasy. Since I have aptitude, they sent me in to check.”

Han Yu saw no reason to hide the truth. “Wei Kunyi is dead.”

“Ah? How?”

“Killed by a Demonic Cultivator. Bad luck.”

Han Yu gave him the approximate time of her death.

Wei Xiaoluo slapped his thigh, seemingly relieved. “No wonder she hasn’t contacted us for so long. So she was already dead!”

A flicker of genuine joy passed through his eyes. He quickly masked it, asking a few generic questions about farming and daily life before hurrying away.

Han Yu frowned as he watched the boy leave. They are both from the Wei family. Why is he happy that she’s dead?

What kind of strange behavior is this?

He shook his head. Forget it. Not my business.

That night, after finishing his cultivation, Han Yu sensed movement outside again.

This time, it wasn’t a flying artifact in the sky. It was someone on the ground—a stealthy figure creeping around the spirit fields. The shadow flashed by, leaving behind a sharp, pungent chemical odor before vanishing into the dark.

Was it one of the original disciples, or one of the new Rogue Cultivators?

The human heart was treacherous. Han Yu decided not to intervene. He stayed inside.

Early the next morning, an uproar broke out.

Han Yu stepped out to find a crowd gathered near the fields. Senior Brothers Hong, Hua, and Ji stood with dark, ugly expressions.

Before them lay a scene of devastation. Nearly twenty acres of spirit rice seedlings—belonging to Li Tonghai, Tian Qing, and several others—had withered overnight.

They had all been poisoned to death.