“A cultivator’s state of mind lies wholly within oneself. There is no absolute right or wrong, only whether one’s thoughts are clear and unobstructed.”

Li Meng’s expression shifted subtly as he weighed Han Li’s request. A woman like Senior Wen, with her fractured psyche and deep-seated trauma, was like a fortress with welded gates. Her past suffering had compelled her to seal her heart behind layers of madness and seduction.

Senior Han had accompanied her for hundreds of years, yet remained powerless to heal her. What could a mere Foundation Establishment junior possibly achieve?

“Why does Senior Han believe this Junior Nephew can succeed where you have failed?” Li Meng asked, his voice calm but laced with skepticism.

Han Li gazed into the distance, his face a mask of stoic indifference. “I do not know. Perhaps it is just a faint stirring in the unseen, a whisper of fate. But I am unwilling to sit idly by, waiting for my Sitting Death and Dao Dissipation. Success or failure, I must attempt every avenue.”

This was the truth, but not the whole truth. Han Li had calculated the variables. Li Meng was not only a genius Alchemist but also a monster in the art of artifact refining. If Li Meng could help Wen Huanhuan shatter her Heart Demon, she would benefit for centuries, perhaps even glimpsing the Nascent Soul realm.

And if Li Meng failed to form his own Golden Core? Well, perhaps he and Wen Huanhuan could find solace in each other in the mortal dust. In Han Li’s eyes, Li Meng was the only variable left.

A flicker of hesitation passed through Li Meng’s eyes. He tapped his finger against the railing, undecided.

This was a troublesome affair. Agreeing meant he would have to actively pursue and “cure” a mentally unstable Golden Core cultivator. While life in the Sect was leisurely—filled with alchemy, refining, and cultivation—investing so much energy into Wen Huanhuan seemed, on the surface, like a losing business proposition.

Seeing Li Meng’s silence, Han Li glanced at him sideways. He knew the risks outweighed the benefits for this pragmatic junior. Senior Wen’s beauty was peerless, yes, but not enough to make a rational man risk his life.

“If Junior Nephew Li agrees to lend me a hand, regardless of success or failure, the refining materials left by my late Master will be your compensation.”

Han Li flicked his sleeve with a decisive motion.

A gray Storage Bag shot out, hovering silently in the air before Li Meng.

Li Meng released his Divine Sense, probing the contents. His pupils contracted sharply, his indifferent facade cracking for a brief second.

Mystic Yellow Essence… Ten-Thousand-Year Mystic Iron Stone… Cold Soul Crystal… Ten-Thousand-Year Soul-Nourishing Wood…

Li Meng’s throat moved slightly as he suppressed a surge of desire. His gaze burned with intensity as he assessed the bag.

The Mystic Yellow Essence was the solidified form of Mystic Yellow Primordial Qi. A piece the size of a fingertip weighed ten thousand jin. It was notoriously difficult to refine—legend said only the Samadhi True Fire could melt it—making it useless to most, but priceless to a true master.

And Li Meng was different. He might not possess the Samadhi True Fire yet, but who was to say he wouldn’t in the future?

The Ten-Thousand-Year Mystic Iron Stone was even more practical. It was the ultimate base material for forging a Lifebound Flying Sword. Combined with the Heavenly Lightning Bamboo he already possessed…

If I form my Golden Core and have sufficient Mana, Li Meng calculated rapidly, I could forge a Heavenly Lightning Sword at the level of a Heaven-Connecting Spiritual Treasure.

He hadn’t yet given Yao Ning a proper meeting gift. As her Senior Brother and a master refiner, gifting her a supreme lightning sword would be most appropriate.

Then there was the Cold Soul Crystal, the nemesis of all fire-attribute artifacts, perfect for crafting an ice-attribute Spiritual Treasure. And the Soul-Nourishing Wood—a rare treasure that could nurture the soul simply by being worn. The higher the age, the stronger the effect.

“Senior Han,” Li Meng said slowly, his voice regaining its composure. “Your Master was…”

Such heavenly materials were not things a mere Golden Core cultivator could hoard. This was the legacy of a Nascent Soul Ancestor.

A trace of bitterness tugged at the corner of Han Li’s mouth. “If back then I hadn’t, on a whim, taken Junior Sister to tour Cloudsoar Peak, Master wouldn’t have taken a liking to her. The subsequent tragedy… none of it would have happened.”

Understanding dawned on Li Meng’s face. He felt a moment of speechlessness.

So Senior Wen was the concubine of Senior Han’s own Master. The melodrama was thick enough to choke on. The relationships in this sect were truly a tangled mess.

But logically, the karma of Wen Huanhuan’s fall did indeed trace back to Han Li. It was an unintentional act, a coincidence, yet in the world of cultivation, cause and effect were often cruel and abstract.

Li Meng did not rush to grab the Storage Bag. He turned his head, locking eyes with Han Li.

“Senior Han truly doesn’t mind?”

To avoid future trouble, especially the lethal kind involving jealous ex-lovers, it was better to clarify the boundaries now. Li Meng had no desire to fight a Golden Core cultivator over a woman.

Han Li looked out at the mirror-smooth surface of the lake, his expression void of emotion.

“Junior Nephew, if you encountered a woman who would damage your Dao Heart, what would you do?”

Li Meng’s face turned cold, a sharp, killing intent flashing in his eyes. He answered without hesitation.

“Then she shouldn’t exist. I would make her disappear.”

A faint, chilling smile appeared on Han Li’s face. He looked at Li Meng with a mix of approval and self-mockery.

“When I realized Junior Sister might be the woman to damage my Dao Heart, I harbored killing intent toward her. I held the blade in my mind. But I feared that killing her might also fracture my Dao Heart. So I hesitated. I gave up. And that hesitation led me into this dead end.”

Li Meng fell silent.

The Great Dao is heartless; cultivators who defy the heavens must be equally ruthless. Any obstacle blocking the path to longevity can be killed. Only death eliminates all karma.

Some cultivators slaughter their entire mortal families to sever worldly ties. Some kill the Dao Companions they’ve loved for centuries to stabilize their resolve. Some, pursuing the Heartless Dao, slay parents and children alike.

All for the sake of mental clarity. All for the perfection of the Dao Heart.

“Junior Nephew can rest assured,” Han Li said softly. “What your Senior seeks is the Great Dao of Longevity. The petty affections between men and women are not what I seek.”

Li Meng flicked his sleeve, sweeping the Storage Bag into his possession.

Han Li’s word was enough. He had no reason to refuse such a lucrative deal.

“Senior, it is a deal!”

Han Li glanced at Li Meng one last time, then transformed into a streak of escaping light, speeding away along the corridor without looking back.

Some things need not be said in detail. It was enough that they understood each other. Whether Li Meng was the variable that could save them both, Han Li didn’t know. But he was willing to place his bet on this mysterious junior. To gamble for that sliver of vitality.

Li Meng glanced toward the end of the corridor, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

Today’s trip to Mirror Lake could be considered a complete success. Not only did he resolve the lethal grievances with Senior Wen, but he also obtained a fortune in rare materials.

“Hmm, I didn’t make this trip for nothing!”

Li Meng chuckled, stroking his beard in the manner of a contented sage. He leisurely walked back toward the landing platform.

As for the Mirror Lake market, he could visit another time. Perhaps after Junior Sister Yuan finished her Foundation Establishment seclusion, he could bring her here for a tour. Or Junior Sister Chen—she would enjoy the scenery as well.

He paused, realizing something.

Junior Sister Chen, Junior Sister Yuan, and Junior Sister Hua… they are all in seclusion.

His harem was currently unavailable. Even the twins, Xin’er and Zi’er, had no news. They weren’t in the Sect, and he hadn’t bothered to check the Archive Pavilion for their whereabouts.

Lost in thought, he arrived at the landing platform.

Li Meng rose on the wind, mounting his sword with practiced ease. He soared into the sky, a streak of gold disappearing into the horizon.