After settling his parents into the guest room of the inn, Scarred Bear immediately scrambled to serve them.

He ordered a table of the best food available and poured water with fawning diligence. From somewhere on his person, he produced two relatively clean meat pies.

“Master, please rest, rest! This is just some coarse food and water… something to pad the empty stomachs of the two elders…”

He plastered a sycophantic smile onto his face, placed the items on the table, and immediately retreated, not daring to stand too close.

Chen Ping ignored him. He first helped his parents drink some water, then watched as they took small, careful bites of the meat-filled pies.

A heavy stone settled in Chen Ping’s chest.

His parents had suffered too much. They hadn’t tasted meat in years.

Fortunately, luck was on his side. They were still alive.

In the future, he would have to make it up to them.

Only after they were eating did he straighten up. His gaze turned into an ice pick, stabbing toward the trembling Scarred Bear in the corner.

“Scarred Bear.”

Chen Ping’s voice was flat, devoid of ripples.

“You said you would trade your life for an ‘Immortal Fate.'”

Scarred Bear shuddered, bending his waist even lower.

“Yes! Yes! This lowly one dares not deceive the Master! It is the absolute truth!”

“Is it the Spirit Gold mine deep in the Abandoned Pit?”

Chen Ping stared into his eyes.

“No, no, no!”

Scarred Bear waved his hands frantically, shaking his head.

“That… that Spirit Gold ore… I relied on it to barely reach the sixth layer of Qi Condensation… but that thing… that doesn’t count as Immortal Fate!”

Fine beads of cold sweat seeped from his forehead.

“Oh?”

Chen Ping’s tone rose slightly, carrying a hint of pressure.

“Then where is this so-called ‘heaven-defying, fate-altering’ opportunity?”

Scarred Bear swallowed hard. The scar on his face turned pale with tension.

He gingerly pointed toward a steep, wind-eroded cliff face on the far side of the mining pit.

“Over there… on the cliff wall… halfway up… there is a small stone ledge. The object is there. I will take Master there right now!”

Chen Ping glanced at his parents, who were leaning against the wall, eyes closed in exhaustion. He then looked at the towering cliff and pondered for a moment.

“Lead the way.”

Scarred Bear felt as if he had been granted a general amnesty. He bowed hastily and led the way.

The two of them, one leading and one following, skirted the massive slag heap and arrived at the base of the cliff.

Looking up, the cliff face loomed vertically, as if cleaved by a giant axe.

About three hundred feet off the ground, a narrow stone ledge was visible, partially obscured by clumps of stubbornly growing, withered yellow vines.

Scarred Bear took a deep breath. The scar on his face twitched, revealing a look of gravity.

He gave a low shout and circulated his meager Qi. His large, rough hands grabbed the protruding edges of the rock, and his feet pushed off with force.

Despite his obese frame, he displayed surprising agility.

Earth-yellow spiritual light flashed faintly where his hands and feet touched the rock.

Chen Ping watched clearly. This was a crude application of earth-attribute Qi.

Chen Ping channeled his own Qi, making his body light as a feather.

His toes tapped gently on the rock face. His figure drifted upward like a wisp of smoke, landing effortlessly on the stone ledge within a few breaths—arriving even before Scarred Bear.

The stone ledge was small, barely enough for three people. The marks of wind erosion were deep, and loose rubble littered the edges.

In the center of the platform, a peculiar plant had taken root in a rock crevice.

It was about three feet tall. The main stem was deep brown, twisted like a coiling dragon and covered in fine, scale-like patterns.

Its branches were sparse. A few leaves, long and narrow like willow blades, hung from it. They were a lifeless, dark purple, resembling congealed blood.

The entire plant exuded a gloomy, damp chill that was starkly out of place amidst the dry, sun-baked rocks.

“Yin Spirit Vine?”

Chen Ping frowned, instantly recognizing the plant.

He had seen it in the Compendium of Hundred Herbs.

This object grew in places of extreme Yin or where baleful energy gathered. It was quite rare.

However, this specific Yin Spirit Vine looked withered. It reeked of death.

It wouldn’t be long before it died naturally.

Scarred Bear climbed over the edge a moment later. Hearing Chen Ping name the plant, a flicker of surprise passed through his beady eyes, followed quickly by flattery.

“Master is indeed knowledgeable! That is the item!”

He pointed at the vine, his face wearing a look of reverence.

“Back then… this lowly one was just a Laborer waiting to die in the mines… I discovered it by accident… and… I swallowed it…”

When he said “swallowed it,” his voice trembled, as if recalling the pain of the past.

“After eating it… a stream of yin-cold energy appeared in my body… I could draw Qi like the Immortal Masters…”

A flash of fanaticism lit up Scarred Bear’s eyes.

“Relying on it, I stepped into the world of Immortals! Not only did I pass the assessment to become an Outer Disciple, but I also cultivated to the sixth layer of Qi Condensation!”

His expression turned smug, carrying a hint of pride.

“Now, my cultivation ranks quite highly among my peers in the Sect…”

Scarred Bear did not know that Chen Ping was also a disciple of the Qingyun Sect. In fact, strictly speaking, Scarred Bear’s seniority might even be higher.

Chen Ping remained silent.

What Scarred Bear said was completely different from the truth he knew.

The Yin Spirit Vine had another name: the “Pseudo Spirit Root Vine” or the “Dead-End Vine.”

It could indeed forcibly construct a structure similar to a Spirit Root within a Mortal’s body, drawing impure Yin and baleful energies from the environment to allow cultivation.

However, this pseudo-Spirit Root was inherently flawed. At most, it could support cultivation to the third layer of Qi Condensation before hitting a wall.

Scarred Bear reaching the sixth layer was an anomaly.

More importantly, the vine sustained the user’s cultivation by burning their innate vital essence and lifespan.

The user might seem to have stepped onto the Immortal Path, but in reality, they were trading their life for a few years of meager power. They would die faster and more painfully than any Mortal.

To a true cultivator, this thing might have slight medicinal value. But for a Mortal, calling it an “Immortal Fate” was a joke. It was a fatal poison coated in honey.

“This is what you call ‘defying heaven and altering fate’?”

Chen Ping’s voice was devoid of emotion, but his gaze was sharp as a blade.

Scarred Bear shuddered. He dropped to his knees on the cold stone, his voice cracking with fear.

“Master! Master, spare me! Back then, I was just a Laborer waiting to die! To survive… to have the strength to not be beaten to death… for me, it was a heaven-sent Immortal Fate!”

He suddenly pointed frantically at the root of the Yin Spirit Vine.

“Master! Look! Look carefully at the root! I… I always felt… it was different!”

Chen Ping followed his finger, focusing his gaze.

Scarred Bear carefully brushed away the loose soil at the edge of the crevice, revealing a section of the vine’s root deeply embedded in the rock.

A large portion of the root was missing—eaten by Scarred Bear years ago.

The root was the most potent part. It was what generated the Spirit Root structure. The rest of the vine was merely material for alchemy; if a Mortal ate the leaves or stem, they would explode and die.

Scarred Bear had been incredibly lucky to only eat the root.

Chen Ping also realized why the vine was dying—its source had been cannibalized.

However, as he looked closer, he noticed something strange.

The remaining root section was not the usual brown. Instead, it had a semi-transparent texture, glowing with an inner light.

No wonder Scarred Bear had eaten it; it looked almost delicious.

But the true anomaly lay deeper.

Wrapped around the main root was a tiny cluster of hair-thin, delicate rootlets.

They were entangled together, shimmering with five distinct, extremely soft lights: Gold, Azure, Blue, Crimson, and Yellow.

The five faint glows were not chaotic. They followed a profound, ancient rhythm, flowing into one another, mutually generating and sustaining a near-perfect cycle.

Pure, vibrant spiritual essence was slowly emanating from this cluster of five-colored rootlets.

Chen Ping’s heart shook violently.

This was absolutely not something a normal Yin Spirit Vine should possess.

The spiritual essence emitted by those rootlets was impossibly pure.

It contained the flow of the Five Elements, carrying an ancient Daoist intent that was utterly captivating!