“Abandon your cultivation! Would you do such a thing?” Han Li’s eyes flickered slightly, his expression tinged with disbelief.
“If I hadn’t abandoned most of my cultivation, Baohua wouldn’t have simply exiled me to this wasteland. After all, I was once her most trusted confidant, yet I betrayed her with a fatal strike. That I still have my life now is already beyond my expectations.” Yuansha explained calmly.
“I see. It seems your past relationship with Baohua was truly extraordinary. Even in such circumstances, she was willing to spare you.” Han Li nodded, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
“Fellow Daoist Han, I once wronged you. Now that my cultivation has fallen, I know I am no match for you. Since we’ve met again, how do you intend to deal with me? Will you seek revenge for the past?” Yuansha’s eyes finally revealed a trace of unease as she spoke slowly.
“If Baohua hadn’t already punished you, I might have been inclined to settle old scores. But now, that thought has faded. Your cultivation has plummeted, and your spirit is broken. Merely maintaining your current level is an achievement. Returning to the Mahayana realm is impossible in this lifetime. Given that you were once a Mahayana ancestor, I won’t be excessive. Sever one of your arms, and our past grievances will be settled.” Han Li fell silent for a moment before speaking gravely.
“One arm? That simple? Very well!” Yuansha was momentarily stunned but then replied with a bitter smile.
As soon as she finished speaking, she raised one arm and spat out a streak of white light that coiled around it.
The arm silently fell from her shoulder, yet the wound showed no blood, smooth as a mirror.
With a soft *puff*, Yuansha pressed her other hand in the air, and the severed arm was crushed into a bloody mist by an invisible force, vanishing completely.
“May I leave now?” Yuansha asked, her face even paler after the self-mutilation.
“You may go.” Han Li nodded, showing no further intention to hinder her.
“I thank you for your magnanimity, Fellow Daoist. It’s unlikely we’ll meet again.” Yuansha’s expression shifted slightly as she gave Han Li a distant bow. Her figure blurred, transforming into a streak of blue light that shot into the sky.
Within the escaping light, black mist faintly emerged from her wounded shoulder, weaving together to form a new arm. Though the limb could regenerate, the loss of vitality was unavoidable.
“Brother Han, you’re really letting her go? Aren’t you afraid she might seek revenge later?” Silvermoon, who had been silently standing on the flying boat, finally spoke up.
“Baohua chose to spare her. It’s not my place to overstep and kill her. Who knows how much of their past bond remains? That Baohua could forgive such a betrayal shows their relationship was far deeper than outsiders could imagine. I’ll return to the Demon Realm someday, and it’s best not to antagonize one of its Sacred Ancestors too severely. As for revenge—Yuansha has little hope of regaining her Mahayana cultivation, and her spirit is broken. I doubt she’d even entertain the thought. Without reaching Mahayana again, her lifespan will be limited. There’s no need for concern.” Han Li shook his head.
“That’s true. Even if she did harbor such thoughts, someone of your prowess wouldn’t need to worry. Still, it’s quite a contrast. Back in the human realm, a mere wisp of her soul nearly buried us both in Kunwu Mountain. Now, she’s ended up like this.” Silvermoon sighed, gazing in the direction Yuansha had vanished.
She wasn’t truly sympathetic to the former Demon Ancestor, but the stark contrast stirred complex emotions.
“Yuansha poses no threat to us. Let’s focus on retrieving the Qiling Treasure Vault before complications arise,” Han Li said indifferently.
“Wise words, Brother Han.” Silvermoon naturally had no objections.
With a hum, the flying boat turned and sped back toward its original course.
Half a day later, the boat hovered over an unusually flat ice plain.
Strangely, at its center lay a small, emerald-green lake that defied the frozen surroundings.
The lake, no more than a few thousand acres in size, steamed with heat, bubbles the size of bowls occasionally rising to the surface. Along its shores grew low, dark-green shrubs, a miraculous sight amidst the ice.
The flying boat blurred and reappeared low above the lakeshore.
Han Li stood at the bow, studying the lake before smiling. “Interesting.”
“Brother Han, this is the location marked on the map. It’s certainly unlike anywhere else. But after so many years, how has no passing demon discovered this vault?” Silvermoon asked curiously.
“The Qiling Sacred Ancestor was a Mahayana demon. His treasure vault isn’t something ordinary high-ranking demons could detect. Even if other Mahayana demons came here, without the map, they’d find nothing.” Han Li chuckled before flicking his sleeve toward the lake.
A sharp whistle rang out as four crystalline bricks shot forth, spinning with multicolored light before hovering motionlessly above the water.
Han Li formed a seal with one hand while casually pointing at the lake with the other, uttering a single word: “Open.”
*Boom!*
Countless runes surged from the bricks, swirling and coalescing into a five-colored formation spanning an acre. Without further prompting, the formation spun rapidly, and with a muffled roar, a gray beam shot from its center, vanishing into the lake.
Instantly, spatial fluctuations erupted. The once-calm lake churned violently, a black vortex forming beneath the formation, spewing countless black threads.
“So this is the entrance to the Qiling Vault—well hidden indeed! But claiming its treasures won’t be so easy,” Silvermoon remarked excitedly.
“Let’s go. Even if there are restrictions inside, they won’t stop us.” Han Li smiled faintly. With a flash of light, the flying boat vanished, and the two descended into the vortex.
As they disappeared, the formation above the lake exploded back into four bricks, which also shot into the vortex. The black energy swirled violently before dissipating like a gust of wind.
Time passed.
The lake remained undisturbed, as if nothing had happened.
Deep beneath the lake, in an unknown labyrinth, Han Li and Silvermoon walked side by side.
Around them stood countless thick pillars, each over a dozen zhang tall, wreathed in black mist and echoing with ghostly wails.
An ordinary cultivator hearing these sounds would likely feel their consciousness grow heavy, their head spinning. But Silvermoon merely shimmered with protective light, blocking the noise. Han Li, however, seemed entirely unaffected, as if the pillars didn’t exist.
Above the pillars hung a dense black fog, obscuring everything.
Suddenly, black mist condensed around several nearby pillars, forming shadowy figures—ferocious giant wolves.
Han Li didn’t pause. As the three wolf phantoms lunged at him, gray light flashed, and they vanished.
Meanwhile, two wolves pounced at Silvermoon. A silver wolf’s head materialized above her, swallowing the shadows whole before disappearing.
The two continued unimpeded, weaving through the pillars.
“Brother Han, how many waves is this?” Silvermoon asked.
“The seventh,” Han Li replied calmly.
“Given the Qiling Ancestor’s reputation, his restrictions shouldn’t be this weak. These wouldn’t even hinder a Soul Formation cultivator, let alone a Mahayana like you.” Silvermoon chuckled.
“If you think that, you’re falling into his trap,” Han Li said leisurely.
“What? What do you mean?” Silvermoon was genuinely puzzled.
“Do you truly believe these pillars are here just to emit faint evil sounds and conjure a few Nascent Soul-level phantoms?” Han Li smiled.
“Are they more than they seem?” Silvermoon’s eyes widened.
“See for yourself.” Han Li raised his hand, fingers clawing at the air.
*Bang!*
Silver flames erupted, tearing something from the void. He clenched his fist, trapping it within his grasp.
Silvermoon stared intently at his silver-wreathed hand.
Han Li loosened his fingers, revealing…
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage