As the wooden box was opened, inside lay the fragmented jade token. A sweep of divine sense over the green jade slip revealed annotations on the token’s content, each word brimming with profound mysteries. Though Han Li couldn’t immediately grasp its full meaning after a careful read, he was certain it was genuine.
Han Li stored both items and smiled faintly at the childlike figure:
“Since you’ve upheld your end, I won’t break my word either. I’ll begin the secret technique to gradually sever your primordial spirit from the Void Heaven Cauldron. However, this process may take decades—patience is essential.”
“Naturally. As long as I regain my freedom before your ascension, that will suffice,” the child replied, seemingly satisfied with Han Li’s promise. With a flicker, its illusory form dissipated.
Han Li pondered briefly before exhaling a stream of azure mist, which coiled around the small cauldron. Shrinking rapidly within the radiance, the cauldron vanished into his mouth.
Simultaneously, the Spirit Infant meditating within his body abruptly opened its eyes. With a beckoning gesture, a tiny azure cauldron eerily materialized before it. The infant tossed the cauldron forward, forming hand seals as a hazy green glow enveloped both it and the cauldron, obscuring them from view.
Han Li, expression unchanged, accelerated his flight and soon disappeared beyond the horizon.
Not long after, a mysterious cultivator began appearing across the human realm, collecting obscure treasures and secret techniques—many related to spatial abilities or formidable defenses.
This figure was exceptionally discerning, rarely taking interest in any location more than once. Moreover, their appearance, build, and attire changed with each sighting, leaving no trace whether they bargained or bypassed restrictions.
The only certainty was their unfathomable power—even Nascent Soul cultivators were as helpless as children before them. Fortunately, the mysterious figure sought only treasures, at most incapacitating opponents without killing.
Though aggrieved, the affected sects dared not pursue the matter, fearing retribution. To ordinary cultivators, this enigma remained entirely unknown.
Thus, the years passed.
Seventy years later, atop an unnamed peak in the Tiansha Continent, the mysterious figure stood upon a boulder, gazing impassively at two elderly men glaring down from the sky.
Clad in ink-black robes, the figure now appeared as a middle-aged scholar with three long wisps of beard. The two elders—one at early Nascent Soul stage, the other at mid-stage—were among Tiansha’s mightiest.
“Whoever you are, return the stolen Golden Scintillation Ring at once!” the thick-browed elder snarled. “To infiltrate our sect’s inner sanctum, you must be at least mid-Nascent Soul. Such thievery is beneath your stature!”
Having chased the figure here, they found his cultivation level obscured, prompting caution.
The mysterious cultivator’s eyes flickered. With a flick of his wrist, an object shot toward the speaker—a storage pouch.
Catching it reflexively, the elder frowned at its contents.
“The ring is vital to me. Consider this payment,” the figure said tonelessly, voice slightly hoarse.
“Nonsense! The Golden Scintillation Ring is our sect’s treasure—no amount of spirit stones can buy it!” the elder roared, though momentarily stunned by the pouch’s contents.
“Then I cannot return it,” the figure replied flatly.
“Then forfeit your life!” the hawk-eyed elder hissed, spitting forth a crimson streak that flashed above the figure’s head.
Yet impossibly, the mysterious cultivator merely traced a circle in the air, summoning rings of gray mist that ensnared the red light. The radiance dispersed, revealing a gleaming scarlet dagger—now spinning helplessly within the mist.
The hawk-eyed elder paled, his spiritual connection to the blade severed.
Alarmed, the thick-browed elder hurled a golden square that swelled into a massive brick, crashing downward like a mountain.
The figure arched an eyebrow, drawing another semicircle. A thicker gray mist erupted, engulfing the brick and stripping it of control. With a beckoning gesture, both treasures plummeted into his grasp.
Desperate, the hawk-eyed elder conjured a colossal white hand to crush the figure—only for a golden sword energy to bisect it effortlessly.
Holding the treasures aloft, the figure coldly asked, “Will these suffice as exchange?”
The elders’ hearts sank. Never had they witnessed someone confiscate their artifacts and nullify their techniques in mere moments. What kind of monstrous power was this gray mist?
The figure chuckled darkly before tossing the artifacts back and vanishing in a streak of azure light.
Stunned, the elders retrieved their belongings and exchanged bewildered glances.
“Should we pursue?” the thick-browed elder asked hesitantly.
“With what? He showed mercy. Press further, and we invite death,” the hawk-eyed elder sighed. “The ring was stolen by our ancestors too. This is karma.”
With that, he departed in a crimson streak, his companion following reluctantly after a long sigh.
Miles away, the mysterious figure halted mid-flight. Bones cracked as his stature grew slightly, his face shifting into that of an unremarkable youth—Han Li himself.
Examining the golden ring now in his palm, he watched countless afterimages ripple from it. “Its defensive power ranks among the top three treasures I’ve acquired these years,” he murmured, pleased.
“Time grows short, Fellow Daoist Han. Should the spatial node collapse unexpectedly…” a child’s voice chimed from his sleeve.
“No reminder needed. I’m returning,” Han Li cut in grimly. “Most of these so-called treasures are overhyped. Barely four or five will prove useful in the spatial node.”
“Yet even modest advantages may save your life,” the child countered. “And haven’t you gleaned insights from the Golden Jade Tome?”
“Perhaps.” Han Li’s tone was noncommittal, his concealed hand briefly clenching.
Unbeknownst to the Heavenly Luan Beast-turned-child, Han Li’s greatest harvest these years was neither treasures nor the tome’s secrets—but something else entirely…
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