“Counsel?” Han Yu immediately shook his head. “There’s no need. I don’t plan to tell anyone which technique I intend to exchange for.”

Tian Qing’s smile stiffened for a split second before he smoothed it over with a laugh. “So, Senior Brother Han, you are planning to get a new technique before the competition, aren’t you?”

He leaned against the fence, adopting a relaxed posture. “I won’t pry into your choices. I just want to offer some advice based on my own experiences. Whether you listen or not is entirely up to you. No harm in listening, is there?”

Without waiting for Han Yu’s consent, Tian Qing launched into his pitch. “Most cultivators at the early stages of Qi Refining—layers one through three—immediately think of offensive spells like the Wind Blade Technique or Flame Technique, or perhaps a defensive one like the Earth Control Technique.”

“But they overlook a critical truth: real combat is perilous for low-level cultivators. At this stage, we are weak. Fragile. To remain undefeated, you must first ensure the enemy cannot touch you. Attack when you can, run when you must. That is the secret to survival.”

Han Yu hadn’t planned to listen, but Tian Qing’s logic was sound. He paused, intrigued despite himself.

“Oh? According to you, what technique should I choose?”

Seeing Han Yu finally engage, Tian Qing’s eyes lit up. “Senior Brother Han, trust me on this. I have genuine experience.”

“Flashy spells like Wind Blade or Flame seem powerful, but they are clumsy. The truly useful techniques for us are two-fold.”

“First is the Wind Control Technique, which you’ve already mastered. It gives you the option to flee if you can’t win. Most enemies at the same cultivation level won’t be able to catch you.”

“The second…” Tian Qing tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t recall the exact name. Maybe Illusory Body or Phantom Shadow? But I know its effect. It uses Spirit Breath to create deceptive clones—blending the real and the fake so the enemy cannot locate your true body.”

He gestured animatedly. “When they attack, they hit air. That buys you time to escape or launch a fatal counterattack. For an early-stage cultivator, this is the ultimate survival tool. I strongly believe it would be the best choice for you, Senior Brother Han.”

Han Yu listened carefully, his gaze drifting between Tian Qing and Hui Ling. Both husband and wife seemed a little too eager for him to learn this specific illusion spell.

There was definitely something fishy about it.

“I’ll think about it,” Han Yu said noncommittally. “Though I still feel the Wind Blade Technique might be more practical.”

“Huh?” Tian Qing blinked, his jaw dropping slightly. Did I just waste all that breath?

Just then, a whistling sound cut through the air. A large Plantain Leaf descended from the direction of the main peak, hovering briefly before landing in front of Han Yu’s spirit field.

Two figures in the blue robes of Inner Disciples stepped off the magical artifact.

One was Hong Liang. The other was Wang Hui, the former Steward of the Spirit Field Department.

Seeing two Inner Disciples arrive so suddenly, Tian Qing’s hands trembled. Hui Ling swallowed hard, her face draining of color. The couple froze, radiating tension.

However, Hong Liang and Wang Hui ignored them completely, engrossed in their own conversation.

“Junior Brother Wang,” Hong Liang said smoothly, “this is the residence of Wei Xiaoluo, younger brother of Wei Kunyi. He specifically asked me to bring you here. He wants to thank you for taking care of his sister, and he has some questions regarding her final days.”

Wang Hui’s expression turned complicated. “I don’t know if his sister provoking the Demonic Cultivator early was my misfortune or my luck.”

He sighed, looking around the familiar fields. “If she hadn’t angered that old coot Li Quan, she might still be alive, and I’d still be a humble Steward here, not exiled. But… now that the sect is in crisis, I’ve been granted this exceptional promotion to return. Otherwise, I’d probably have died of old age out in the wilds.”

Talking as they walked, the pair passed Han Yu’s field and approached Old Daoist Li’s former cottage, now occupied by Wei Xiaoluo.

“Wei Xiaoluo? Didn’t you want to see Junior Brother Wang? I’ve brought him. Come out!” Hong Liang called.

Silence.

After calling twice more, Wang Hui frowned. “Is he not here?”

Hong Liang’s brow furrowed. Not here? That’s impossible. We had an arrangement.

“Wei Xiaoluo! Wei Xiaoluo!”

Hong Liang strode to the window and peered inside. His face darkened. “He’s really not here! That irresponsible brat. He asks me to invite you over, then runs off himself.”

Wang Hui, recalling the mysterious disappearances of Zhang Shan and Li Quan, narrowed his eyes. “Strange. Should we go in and search?”

Hong Liang stiffened. If they searched the room and found Spirit Beast Sect tokens or correspondence, Wei Xiaoluo’s cover would be blown instantly. And Hong Liang would be implicated.

“No need to search,” Hong Liang said quickly. “He probably just stepped out for a moment.”

He turned to the onlookers—Han Yu, Tian Qing, and Hui Ling. “Have any of you seen Wei Xiaoluo?”

All three shook their heads.

Hong Liang then spotted Li Tonghai, who had just emerged from his stone house with a sword on his back. “You there! Have you seen Wei Xiaoluo?”

Li Tonghai walked over. As he approached, he glanced at Hong Liang. A flicker of recognition crossed his eyes, followed by a subtle shift in demeanor. He lowered his head respectfully. “Steward Hong, I have not seen him.”

Hong Liang waved his hand dismissively. “Fine, fine. You’re all dismissed. Go back to your business.”

Where the hell did that kid go?

Turning back to Wang Hui, Hong Liang forced a smile. “Junior Brother Wang, you’ve just returned, and I haven’t had a chance to welcome you properly. I also need to pick your brain about managing the Spirit Field Department.”

“Since it’s mealtime, let me treat you. We’ll go to the Green Grain Market and enjoy some fine brew. How about it?”

“That’s too kind! Green Grain Brew is expensive!” Wang Hui patted his belly and laughed, but his eyes remained sharp. “Are you sure we shouldn’t look for this Wei Xiaoluo? Or maybe just check his room quickly?”

“He’s just out. No need to fuss,” Hong Liang insisted, steering Wang Hui away. “Let’s eat first. We’ll probably run into him when we get back!”

Han Yu overheard everything. He understood exactly why Hong Liang was so desperate to sweep this under the rug. If a search revealed Wei Xiaoluo’s true allegiance, Hong Liang would be next on the chopping block.

Wang Hui seemed to sense Hong Liang’s reluctance. He gave the man a thoughtful look, then smiled. “Oh, Senior Brother Hong is right. Food first.”

His gaze wandered over the fields and landed on Han Yu. His eyes lit up. “You’re Han Yu, right?”

Wang Hui walked over, grinning. “I remember you… Have you reached the second layer of Qi Refining yet?”

“Senior Brother Wang. Yes, I have,” Han Yu replied politely.

“Good, good. Diligent as always. Are you participating in the Laborer Disciple competition in two days?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent,” Wang Hui chuckled, clapping a heavy hand on Han Yu’s shoulder. “Last time you told me I could become an Inner Disciple. Now look at me! Your words were prophetic. I suppose I owe you one.”

As he spoke, Wang Hui squeezed Han Yu’s arm with deliberate, rhythmic pressure. His eyes locked onto Han Yu’s, intense and meaningful.

Han Yu’s heart skipped a beat. He’s trying to tell me something.

At that moment, Hong Liang approached them.

Han Yu glanced at Hong Liang and froze. Up close, he noticed something he had missed from a distance.

Hong Liang’s eyes were bloodshot. Not from fatigue, but a deep, unnatural crimson webbing the sclera.

Huh?

That looks like the side effect of consuming Blood Food for the Blood Refining Technique.

But… didn’t he pledge allegiance to the Spirit Beast Sect?

And yet, his hair isn’t red, and there’s no scent of blood on him…