“Buzz, buzz, buzz…”

Sensing Gu Xiu’s lingering hesitation, the newly christened Carefree Pendant vibrated in his palm. It wasn’t just a physical tremor; a wave of distinct emotion washed over him.

It was dependence. It was affection. It was the desperate clinginess of a child finding a parent.

This pure emotion smoothed the frown from Gu Xiu’s face.

“I do not understand why you have chosen this path,” Gu Xiu murmured, running his thumb over the cool surface of the artifact. “But since you have abandoned your sect and completely severed your past, then from now on… you shall follow me.”

If the token still bore the mark of the Azure Mystic Sacred Land, he would have crushed it to dust. But it had rebelled. It had become an ownerless thing.

So, he would keep it.

Upon hearing his acceptance, the pendant buzzed happily, trying to nuzzle against his chest. But before it could get close, a furry paw slapped it down.

The little black monkey stood on Gu Xiu’s shoulder, chattering furiously.

Zhi zhi zhi!

It was asserting dominance. It was the number one subordinate, the “Big Brother.” The pendant would have to settle for second place.

To Gu Xiu’s amusement, the Carefree Pendant didn’t fight back. It meekly floated behind the monkey, accepting its position in the new hierarchy.

Gu Xiu shook his head, a faint smile touching his lips. He decided not to overthink the absurdity of the situation. Instead, he turned his thoughts to more practical matters.

“Although I have achieved Perfect Foundation Establishment, the next step—achieving a Perfect Golden Core—will require significant preparation,” he mused, recalling the celestial phenomenon Jiang Xun had triggered.

Jiang Xun’s success wasn’t surprising. Backed by the immense resources of a Sacred Land, even a pig could ascend to the heavens. And Jiang Xun was no pig; his talent was genuinely top-tier, perhaps top three among everyone Gu Xiu had ever met.

But Gu Xiu saw the flaws.

“Although the world calls it a ‘Perfect Golden Core,’ there is a difference between Minor Perfection and Great Perfection.”

“If the visions from the ‘One Glance, Ten Thousand Years’ dream were correct, Jiang Xun only achieved Minor Perfection. He failed to secure a Perfect Foundation Establishment, and the sect couldn’t find the rarest materials for his final Dao Platforms.”

“So ultimately, he is still flawed.”

Gu Xiu’s eyes gleamed with ambition.

The foundation of cultivation lay in the Dao Platforms. There were seven standard layers. Two layers marked the early stage; four, the middle; five and six, the late. Upon completing the seventh layer, one reached Great Perfection and could form a Golden Core.

But for true geniuses, the path didn’t end at seven.

One could build an eighth platform to form a Heavenly Rank Golden Core.

Or, one could go further, building a ninth platform to achieve a Perfect Golden Core.

However, even that wasn’t the limit. True “Great Perfection” required every single platform—from the first to the ninth—to be flawless.

Most cultivators failed at the first step. Gu Xiu, however, had already achieved a Perfect Foundation for his first platform.

“I have eight more platforms to build,” Gu Xiu whispered. “To make each one perfect requires not just spirit stones, but specific, ultra-rare heavenly treasures.”

The early platforms were manageable with money. The later ones required items that even a Sacred Land like Azure Mystic struggled to find. That was why Jiang Xun had taken so long, and why he had ultimately failed to reach true perfection.

“But I know the future,” Gu Xiu thought, his confidence surging. “I know where the treasures will appear over the next ten thousand years. If I can’t gather the materials for a Great Perfect Golden Core with that knowledge, I would be the world’s biggest joke!”

“Several key materials are about to appear. I must seize them. And while I’m at it… I need to heal the Dao Injury on my Divine Soul.”

Gu Xiu closed his eyes, sinking back into meditation.

Cultivate.

While Gu Xiu buried himself in training, the city below the Azure Mystic Sacred Land was abuzz with confusion.

In the teahouses of Azure Mystic City, cultivators stared up at the distant mountain peaks. The usually radiant sect was now shrouded in thick, unnatural fog. Even with spiritual vision, no one could see inside.

“The sect has been acting strange lately,” a cultivator whispered to his companions. “Thunderclouds every few days. Then the Heaven’s Gate phenomenon was cut short by the Sect Master’s feather. Now this fog?”

“Do you think they are hiding a big secret?”

“Or a big disaster,” another voice muttered darkly. “Regardless, keep watching. Especially for Gu Xiu. He has been in seclusion for three years. If he emerges, it will be earth-shattering.”

“Do you think he’s dead?”

“Gu Xiu? Dead?” The speaker scoffed. “The Ancestor said that man is blessed with immense Providence. He is a child of destiny. How could he die? If he is dead, then the Azure Mystic Sacred Land is just a piece of fat meat waiting to be eaten.”

The mortals and rogue cultivators could only speculate. They assumed the fog was a show of power.

They had no idea that behind the mist, the Azure Mystic Sacred Land was a living hell.

If an outsider could pierce the veil, they would ask if the sect had been plowed by a god of war.

The mountain gate was split in half. The main peak was impaled. The beautiful Jade Bridge was shattered into gravel. Deep, jagged chasms scarred the main plaza, radiating terrifying sword intent.

In a single night, the glorious Sacred Land had been half-destroyed.

Disciples, covered in dust and blood, wept as they scrubbed gore from the flagstones. Others carried broken bodies to the back mountain for mass burial.

It was a catastrophe.

What should have been a celebration of Jiang Xun’s Golden Core had turned into a slaughter. The sect’s invincible guardian—the Qingxuan Sword Array—had gone rogue.

Formations malfunctioned occasionally. But a Sacred Land’s protective array turning its colossal swords inward to butcher its own disciples?

It was unheard of. It was a scandal that would make the entire cultivation world laugh until their teeth fell out.

If not for Sect Master Guan Xuelan’s decisive action—forcibly dismantling the array with her Mahayana power—the Azure Mystic Sacred Land would have earned the dubious honor of being the first sect in history to exterminate itself.

Inside the main hall, the atmosphere was funereal.

“Reporting to the Sect Master,” a trembling elder read from a scroll. “Due to the protective formation’s loss of control… we have confirmed 683 disciple deaths. 39 deacon elders have fallen. Over 5,000 are injured.”

Guan Xuelan sat on her throne, her face a mask of stone.

“In addition to the casualties,” the elder continued, his voice cracking, “The array’s sword qi slashed through the Repository.”

“A vast number of texts were destroyed. Most were common manuals collected five hundred years ago… but many precious unique copies were also reduced to dust.”

Guan Xuelan closed her eyes. The physical damage was immense, but the blow to the sect’s morale—and its dignity—was incalculable.

And the worst part? She still didn’t know why.