Following the words written on the folded slip, Mo Han reached a dark night house where many men wearing less clothes were serving food for the guests.

The dark night house was lit with crimson lanterns. Soft music played from the corner, where half-clothed young men carried trays of food and wine, bowing with practiced grace as they moved between the tables.

Mo Han stepped through the doors with a calm face, his sharp eyes scanning the hall. He saw the whispers of wealth and power in every detail—the silk drapes, the polished floors, and the smile-too-wide faces of the servers.

But his gaze finally fixed on her.

At the far end of the chamber sat a woman, cloaked in scarlet robes, her face hidden beneath a red mask shaped like a blooming lotus. Despite the mask, her presence alone commanded the room. A faint oppressive aura radiated around her like a silent warning: no one here could afford to misstep.

Without hesitation, Mo Han strode across the floor. Every eye turned to him as he walked, some filled with curiosity, some with suspicion. Yet he paid no attention.

He stopped before her table, bowed slightly, and sat. His posture was calm, but his gaze was unyielding, as if daring the masked woman to measure him.

Her voice, soft yet edged with authority, broke the silence. "You are Mo Han." It wasn't a question.

Mo Han inclined his head slightly. "And you must be the elder who summoned me."

The woman lifted a delicate jade cup, sipping the crimson wine before her, then set it down with a faint clink. "You already know who I am. But for formality—" she leaned forward slightly, her mask gleaming under the lantern light— "I am Elder Mei Ling, one of the thirteen elders of Eternal Night Mansion."

Mo Han's lips curled faintly. "Elder Mei Ling… then my guess was correct."

Mei Ling's voice dropped to a low hum. "Now tell me—why did you do it? Why carve the sacred trees of Eternal Night Mansion, showing your sword mastery so brazenly? What were you trying to prove?"

Mo Han leaned back in his chair, his fingers tapping lightly on the table. "To gain your attention."

Her masked face tilted ever so slightly. "My attention?!"

"Not just yours," Mo Han corrected, his tone calm yet steady. "The attention of any elder with the power to bring me into this sect. I want to join the Eternal Night Mansion. For that, I needed to be noticed. And to be noticed, I had to do something bold."

"You made quite the scene," Mei Ling said dryly. "All that drama… just to enter Eternal Night Mansion?"

Mo Han's eyes narrowed. "Call it drama if you want. But tell me—did it not work?"

Her silence was her answer.

A soft laugh escaped her lips. "With your face alone, you could have walked into this sect. Half of the thirteen elders would have fought over you. You didn't need to parade your sword mastery. Do you think Eternal Night Mansion values swords over bodies?"

Mo Han leaned forward now, his eyes sharp. "Elder Mei Ling, you saw the cuts. You recognized my talent. So I will ask you plainly—will you accept me as your disciple?"

Mei Ling was silent for a long time. Her jade fingers traced the rim of her wine cup. Finally, she spoke.

"I will… on one condition." Her voice was calm, but her words carried weight. "You must win the Tournament of Rising Elders."

Mo Han's eyes narrowed slightly. "Tournament of Rising Elders?"

"It will be held three months from now," Mei Ling explained, her tone sharp and deliberate. "A grand tournament where cultivators of Elder Rank clash to prove supremacy. It is the only stage where Eternal Night Mansion dares compete openly against the great sects of this realm.

Until now, not a single dual cultivator has won such a tournament. We are mocked, underestimated, treated as parasites who only borrow strength through bodies. But if someone like you…" She paused, leaning closer, "…if you, with your sword mastery, win this tournament, Eternal Night Mansion's name will echo through the realm."

Mo Han raised a brow. "And you want to use me as that blade."

"Not use," Mei Ling corrected coldly. "Rely. I see your potential. The precision in those cuts… even I, Mei Ling, cannot claim such mastery with the sword. Victory would be certain if you compete. And if you guarantee me that victory, I will guarantee you everything in return."

The room went silent again.

Mo Han's lips curved faintly, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes. "You speak with confidence. But you know who I am, Elder Mei Ling? My cultivation is only at the 7th class disciple. To stand in a tournament of Elder-Rank cultivators—do you not fear I'll be crushed like an ant?"

Mei Ling's masked face tilted down, but her tone was sharp as steel. "No. I fear the opposite. I fear the world will be crushed by you. You carry something rare—sword intent and a body made for dual-cultivation. With the proper support, three months is enough for you to surpass the boundary. I can provide you with resources, manuals, and protection. But only if you agree to stand in that arena for me."

Mo Han tapped the table with a fingertip, thoughtful. Then his eyes met hers directly, piercing through the red mask as though he could see her face beneath. "If I swear to win this tournament, you will accept me as your disciple. And even if obstacles rise in the future—even if the other elders resist—you will stand by your word?"

"Even if the heavens themselves block the way," Mei Ling swore softly, "I will not retreat."

Mo Han leaned back, satisfied. "Then we are agreed."

Mei Ling's hand flicked, and a servant immediately set another cup of wine before Mo Han. She raised her own cup. "Three months. Three months for you to rise from nothing to a name that will shake sects. I will give all things and my great support to you in these 3 months."

Mo Han lifted the cup, his lips curling into a faint smile. "Three-months. That's more than enough."

The two cups clinked softly, their sound swallowed by the heavy silence of the chamber.

Fatty Lambu's words from earlier echoed faintly in Mo Han's mind—"Brother-Han, every time you smile like that, it means trouble for me…"

He ignored the memory and drank the wine in one breath.

The agreement was sealed.

"Come tomorrow morning, I will issue a disciple token for you!" The lady said and left the house silently.