Deep within the Four Seas Gang’s compound, two shadows moved through the gloom, proceeding cautiously, step by step.

“Fellow Daoist Lu, tread carefully,” one of the shadows whispered, his voice tight. “This backyard is a minefield of hidden killing intent. Stick to my path. One wrong step, and we fall into an abyss of no return.”

“I know, I know,” the other hissed back, impatience radiating from his posture. “Just hurry it up. The distraction won’t last forever.”

These were no ordinary intruders. They were Daoist Sanquan and Lu Yutian.

For three years, Sanquan had embedded himself within the gang, mapping every inch of their defenses for this specific night. With the Four Seas Gang engaging the Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion in an all-out war, the interior defense was hollow. It was the perfect moment to strike.

They stopped five feet from the treasury door. The air before them shimmered with lethal energy.

“The restriction arrays here are intricately interlocked,” Sanquan muttered, staring at the distortion. “Without the control disk, they are flawless. Even a Grandmaster of arrays would struggle to pick this lock.”

He turned to his companion. “It is up to you now, Fellow Daoist.”

Lu Yutian’s expression was grave. He studied the shimmering wall. “This is a continuous loop array. Even if I nullify it, the feedback will alert the controller.”

“Is there no way?”

“There is,” Lu Yutian gritted out. “I can shield us from detection. But only for ten breaths.”

“Ten?” Sanquan frowned. “Fairy Tang is using her charm arts on the Deputy Gang Leader. Surely we have more time?”

“The technique only lasts ten breaths. That is my limit.”

“Fine. We grab the treasure and retreat instantly.”

Agreement reached, Lu Yutian produced a small, blood-colored wine jug. He bit his tongue, spat a mist of essence onto the vessel, and performed a rapid sequence of hand seals.

“Blood-Stained Firmament!”

Crimson mist exploded from the jug, smelling of iron and old death. It didn’t drift; it surged like a living tide, drowning the courtyard in a bloody hue. Under Lu Yutian’s control, the mist latched onto the defensive array, corroding the spiritual light like acid eating through silk.

The array groaned and dimmed, turning into a viscous, muddy barrier. A hole melted open in the center.

“I’m going in. Guard the door!” Lu Yutian barked, flashing into the opening.

Daoist Sanquan stood at the threshold, watching the red mist swirl. The Blood Fiend Sect’s arts were corrosive to the soul; he dared not enter. But as he watched Lu Yutian’s back disappear, a cold sneer curled Sanquan’s lips. He quietly slid several lethal talismans into his palm.

Treasure was good. Treasure divided by one was better.

Suddenly, the blood mist at the entrance rippled violently. Sanquan flinched, instinctively dodging to the side. But the ripple smoothed out instantly, vanishing as if it had never been.

Sanquan frowned but dismissed it as instability in Lu Yutian’s technique. He didn’t realize that something—or someone—had just slipped past him.

Inside the vault, Lu Yutian moved like a starving wolf.

He ignored the mountains of spirit stones and the shelves of rare ores. He knew exactly what he was here for. He drove straight to the deepest chamber, where a small, isolated pedestal sat behind a second, more powerful barrier.

Lu Yutian didn’t hesitate. He burned more blood essence, forcing the Blood-Stained Firmament to dissolve the inner seal.

The moment the barrier shattered, he gasped.

Lying on the pedestal was a withered tree branch, no longer than half a finger. It looked dead, save for a single, microscopic green sprout clinging to the bark.

It looked worthless. Yet, as the seal broke, a fragrance washed over him—ancient, pure, and overwhelming. One breath of it made his soul tremble, his body feeling weightless, as if he were floating, about to become an Immortal.

Immortal Medicine.

The Four Seas Gang was hiding half a stalk of living Immortal Medicine.

Lu Yutian’s heart hammered against his ribs. He reached out and snatched the branch.

Hiss.

The moment his skin touched the bark, a glowing rune peeled off the pedestal and drilled into his hand like a burrowing worm.

“A tracking mark!”

Lu Yutian’s face went pale. He immediately channeled his blood arts, sealing his entire arm in a crimson cast to suppress the signal. He didn’t know how long it would hold, but he had to run.

He grabbed a few handfuls of other treasures, stuffing them into his ring, but he kept the branch in his sealed hand. A living Immortal Medicine could not be stored in a spatial ring; it would die instantly.

He turned and bolted.

Six breaths had passed.

Lu Yutian burst out of the blood-mist tunnel, triumphant. “I got it—”

The air in front of him shimmered.

Before he could even register the anomaly, a hand reached out from the empty space. It moved with impossible precision, shattering his blood-seal and tearing the Immortal Medicine from his grip in a fraction of a second.

What?

Lu Yutian froze, his mind unable to process the theft.

“Fellow Daoist Lu, you’ve worked hard,” a cold voice sneered.

Lu Yutian looked up to see Daoist Sanquan standing before him, a horsetail whisk expanding in his vision. The bristles were sharp as steel needles, wreathed in killing intent.

“Wait—”

Lu Yutian tried to circulate his qi, but his meridians seized. The blood arts had drained him, and the shock had left him open.

Thwack!

The whisk struck him squarely in the chest, while three explosive talismans detonated against his defensive aura. Lu Yutian collapsed, his chest a ruin, his eyes wide with betrayal and confusion.

“You lived carelessly, Lu,” Sanquan scoffed, standing over the corpse. “Next life, learn to watch your back.”

Sanquan bent down to loot the body, his eyes darting to Lu Yutian’s right hand.

It was empty.

Sanquan’s face went white. “Damn it! That idiot! Did he put a living plant inside a storage ring?”

BOOM!

A roar erupted from the depths of the mansion, shaking the foundations of the earth. The sound wave was so physical it cracked the paving stones and pulverized the remaining blood mist. Even Lu Yutian’s exposed Golden Core developed hairline fractures from the sonic impact.

Sanquan staggered, coughing up a mouthful of blood.

“Thieves! Die!”

The aura of the Deputy Gang Leader, Cao Tieniu, exploded outward like a volcanic eruption.

Sanquan didn’t hesitate. He snatched Lu Yutian’s storage ring, assuming the medicine was inside, and fled into the night.

Seconds later, a hulking figure, half-dressed and radiating fury, crashed into the courtyard. Cao Tieniu glanced at the corpse, roared again, and launched himself into the sky after Sanquan.

Silence returned to the courtyard.

Slowly, a figure materialized from the empty air near the vault entrance.

Gu Xiu dusted off his sleeves, his expression calm. In his hand lay the withered branch, now plastered with heavy suppression talismans to mask its aura.

“I underestimated Cao Tieniu,” Gu Xiu murmured, stroking the Carefree Pendant at his waist. “Without this pendant’s stealth capabilities, that sonic roar might have exposed me.”

He glanced in the direction the chase had gone.

In the original timeline—the one he had seen in the One Glance Ten Thousand Years—Daoist Sanquan would escape Cao Tieniu. He would eventually meet up with his partner, Tang Ping’er of the Joyous Union Sect. But Tang Ping’er was the true mantis; she would kill Sanquan for the loot.

However, Sanquan would trigger a death-curse trap, exposing Tang Ping’er to the Four Seas Gang. She would be hunted down, and in her desperation, she would cross paths with Jiang Xun. Jiang Xun, the ‘Child of Destiny,’ would then inherit the medicine by pure luck.

“Not this time,” Gu Xiu whispered.

The chain of fate had been severed. The mantis had struck the cicada, but the oriole had already flown away with the prize. Jiang Xun would receive nothing.

Gu Xiu turned and vanished into the darkness, heading back to his listening-to-rain pavilion. His objective was complete. All that remained was to heal his Dao Injury.

However, fate is a tangled web. By severing one thread, Gu Xiu had unknowingly pulled on another.

High above the city, observing the chaos of the gang war, stood Qin Meran of the Azure Mystic Sacred Land. Her cold eyes swept over the battlefield, looking for leverage against the Ten Thousand Treasures Pavilion.

Her gaze suddenly sharpened.

Down in the alleyways, she spotted a woman from the Joyous Union Sect—Tang Ping’er—lurking in the shadows, waiting for a partner who would never arrive with the goods.

Qin Meran’s eyes narrowed. The gears of a new, unforeseen karma began to turn.