Early that morning, the moment Zhang Xian received the message from Zhiyin, he rushed over without delay.

Upon his arrival at Heavenly Puppet Peak, he found Zhiyin already waiting for him at the summit. She led him into a pocket dimension where a massive flying vessel rested in silence. Small puppets scurried across its surface, performing the final finishing touches.

Zhiyin clapped her hands. From the deck of the vessel, a female cultivator dressed in a form-fitting black robe descended slowly. She possessed a voluptuous, curvaceous figure and a face that bore a seventy percent resemblance to Zhiyin, though her features carried a more heroic, sharper air.

“This is the captain, an early-stage Golden Core puppet,” Zhiyin introduced. “You only need to control her; she, in turn, commands the thirty other puppets on board to operate the vessel. However, due to core restrictions, the captain cannot leave the vessel’s immediate vicinity.”

Zhang Xian examined her closely. Zhiyin’s craftsmanship was so exquisite that he couldn’t find a single flaw to suggest she wasn’t human.

“Give her a name,” Zhiyin said with a smile.

Zhang Xian thought for a moment. “Let’s call her Yunshang, since this vessel is essentially a gift from Cloud Raiment Pavilion.”

The female cultivator bowed slightly, her voice cool and clear. “Thank you, Master, for bestowing this name.”

Zhiyin then produced a green jade talisman from her sleeve. “This is the vessel talisman. Once refined, you can summon the ship at any time.”

Zhang Xian took the talisman, dripped a drop of essence blood onto it, and began the refinement process. Once finished, a sweep of his divine sense brought a complete, three-dimensional map of the vessel into his mind.

Zhiyin smiled warmly. “A vessel this large might be inconvenient to transport. If you need it, I can sell you a storage item at a dis—”

Before she could finish, the enormous vessel vanished into thin air, tucked away safely in Zhang Xian’s system space.

“Sister Zhiyin, what were you saying just now?”

Zhiyin’s eyes widened in shock. She eventually chuckled softly. “You truly are remarkable. A storage space capable of holding something this massive… few in the Southern Region possess such a thing.”

Zhang Xian offered a mysterious smile and cupped his hands. “Thank you for your hard work, Sister Zhiyin. I’ll see you another day.”

With the vessel secured, Zhang Xian prepared to return to his home world. By his reckoning, it had been a full year since his last visit.

As an inner sect disciple, he didn’t require formal permission to leave; a simple registration at the gates sufficed.

“Spirit Sword Peak, Zhang Xian. Returning home to visit family. Expected return in two months.”

After registering, Zhang Xian stepped past the sect gates. It was noon, and the area was bustling with disciples. Suddenly, Zhang Xian summoned the massive vessel out of thin air.

The onlookers were left dumbfounded as Zhang Xian waved casually and leaped onto the deck.

“Holy crap!” one of the gate guards exclaimed.

“Is that the rich guy? He’s taking a flying vessel just to visit family?”

“Damn, this guy is too showy.”

“I heard the fuel for one day on that thing costs 800 sect points,” another whispered. “That’s five years of gate duty for us!”

“Stop talking about it. Comparing yourself to him just makes life feel worse.”

Zhang Xian stood at the bow, feeling the wind rush against his face.

“Yunshang, set course for Shuiyun City.”

“As you command, Master.”

The vessel ascended, its internal formations humming to life. It accelerated like an arrow released from a bowstring, shooting toward the clouds.

Zhang Xian explored the interior. The study was filled with classic texts, the cultivation chambers were embedded with spirit-gathering arrays, and the tearoom was fully furnished. There were over ten bedrooms, and to his delight, a hot spring pool filled with crystal-clear, spirit-rich water.

“Master, would you like me to prepare food?” a maid puppet asked respectfully.

Zhang Xian waved a hand. “No need. I’ll soak for a while.”

As he relaxed in the warm water, a maid puppet knelt by the poolside, offering spirit fruits and tea.

This is the true immortal life, Zhang Xian thought. He realized he had been far too frugal in the past.

The only downside was the reading material. The study held only “classics.” There were none of the popular novels currently trending in the Yunmiao Sect.

Then again, those novels were usually about underdogs rising against the odds. As a second-generation immortal heir, Zhang Xian knew he’d be the villain who wouldn’t survive ten chapters in those stories.

Seven days later, Shuiyun City appeared on the horizon.

Looking down at the familiar cityscape, Zhang Xian felt little. With the Zhao family gone, nothing here held his concern.

With a thought, he stored the vessel and arrived at a hidden valley on the outskirts. Amidst the overgrown weeds, a weak, white spatial vortex rotated slowly—the entrance to the Daliang small world.

Passing through the rift, the thin atmosphere immediately made him uncomfortable. This world lacked spiritual energy entirely.

He summoned the vessel once more and headed toward Xuanwei’s temple. As the bamboo grove came into view, he was surprised to see a faint cyan light shield enveloping the grounds. A protective formation was operating at full capacity.

“Something happened.”

His heart tightened. He leapt from the vessel, dropping a hundred zhang through the air.

The moment his feet touched the ground, a sharp sword light stabbed toward him.

“It’s me!” Zhang Xian shouted, releasing his aura to signal his identity.

The sword stopped abruptly. Li Miaoyin appeared in the courtyard, looking utterly exhausted. Her Foundation Establishment second-stage cultivation seemed dangerously unstable.

“Lord Guardian Duke?” she exclaimed, her face lighting up with joy.

Zhang Xian spread his divine sense. The temple was in ruins. Aside from Li Miaoyin, he could only sense the weak life signs of Xuanwei and Yu Yun. No one else remained.

“What happened here?”

Li Miaoyin’s expression darkened. She beckoned him into a bedroom where the thick scent of medicinal herbs hung in the air.

Elder Daoist Xuanwei lay weakly in bed, having reverted to his aged appearance. Even more alarming was Yu Yun. Her face was as pale as paper, her breath flickering like a candle in the wind, surrounded by life-sustaining arrays.

“Who did this?” Zhang Xian’s voice turned icy cold.

Xuanwei replied hoarsely, “It’s alright… the enemies were dealt with by Yu Yun.”

Li Miaoyin’s voice trembled as she explained. “Three months ago, a Foundation Establishment cultivator and two Qi Refining disciples appeared. They claimed to be from the Muling Sect, visiting while training in this small world.”

“We entertained them, but they suddenly attacked. They injured us and began slaughtering the other disciples.”

“We survived only because of our magic treasures,” Li Miaoyin continued, a glint of fear in her eyes. “Yu Yun risked everything. She used spirit talismans and was even willing to self-detonate her artifacts to hold them off.”

“We managed to kill two of them, but one Qi Refining disciple had a powerful escape technique and got away.”

She looked at Yu Yun with heartache. “Yu Yun blew up five spirit talismans to kill their leader. But her meridians are damaged… her future cultivation path is likely over.”

Yu Yun forced a weak smile, blood staining the corners of her mouth. “I refine those talismans every day for this reason. I never thought they’d actually be used.”

“When fighting, you must be fast, accurate, and ruthless,” Yu Yun said proudly. “I learned that from you.”

She coughed violently, spitting up fresh blood.

“No regrets,” Yu Yun whispered. “A Qi Refining stage cultivator killing a Foundation Establishment master… I’ve earned it. It’s time for me to go accompany Shijie down below anyway.”

Zhang Xian looked at her and growled, “You wish!”