Mo Han stepped inside the stone house in the late evening. His sharp eyes immediately found Lambu's round figure trembling near the window.

"What are you doing there?" Mo Han asked flatly, though a hint of amusement glimmered in his eyes.

Fatty nearly jumped, clutching his chest. "Ahh! Brother Han! You scared me to death…!" He pressed his hand against his pounding heart.

Mo Han raised a brow. "You look like you've already died three times. Why are you hiding?"

Fatty poked his head out the window nervously before whispering in a rushed voice. "They're everywhere! Those… those women! Every time I peek outside, I see them walking by, staring this way. Some smile, some wink, some… some even licked their lips!" He shivered dramatically. "Brother Han, they're not human! They're foxes in human-skin, waiting to drag me into some chamber and… and…"

Mo Han folded his arms, waiting. "And?"

Fatty swallowed, his round face turning pale. "And make me dual cultivate until I dry up like a fruit!" He collapsed onto the bed, flailing his arms. "Brother Han, I'm still pure! I don't want to die young!"

For a moment, silence filled the room—then Mo Han let out a small, rare chuckle. "So that's what you fear."

Fatty sat up, offended. "Don't laugh at me! You don't know how scary they are! Their perfume alone makes my knees weak, their smiles make my heart skip… What if one of them casts a spell and I end up crawling after them like a dog?!"

Mo Han's gaze softened. He stepped closer, placing a hand firmly on Fatty's shoulder. His voice dropped low, steady, carrying a weight of assurance.

"You've stayed by my side since the beginning, Lambu. I won't let you fall prey to this sect's tricks. Fear is natural—but remember, fear can be defeated."

Fatty blinked, his breathing slowing slightly as he looked up at Mo Han.

Mo Han continued, "These women may use charms, powders, and illusions, but they cannot control a heart that is steady. If your heart does not waver, no seduction can bind you. I will give you something to anchor your heart—to keep it still, even when temptation surrounds you."

Fatty's eyes widened, hope replacing dread. "Really? Brother Han, don't tease me… do you mean it?"

Mo Han nodded. "I have studied many techniques. Among them is a simple heart technique—one meant for soldiers who had to resist the mental arts of enemy cultivators. If you practice it, your heart will become firm like a boulder in a storm. No charm, no spell, no beauty will shake it."

Fatty's lips trembled, tears welling in his eyes. "Brother Han… you always save me. Even when I'm useless, even when I'm scared… you always protect me."

Mo Han's expression turned stern. "Don't call yourself useless. The fact that you stayed true, even in this place, shows your worth. You may not wield a sword, but loyalty is sharper than steel. I need you strong, Lambu—not hiding."

Fatty wiped his eyes with his sleeve, nodding furiously. "Yes! Teach me, Brother Han! Even if it takes years, I'll learn it. I'll… I'll make my heart unshakable! Then even if the prettiest fox in this sect kneels before me, I'll—" He puffed up his chest dramatically, then added in a lower voice, "—well, I'll probably still look once… but I won't fall!"

Mo Han smirked and walked into his room

-

Few Hours later…

Inside the stone house, the oil lamp flickered faintly, casting long shadows against the walls.

In his corner room, Mo Han sat cross-legged at a low wooden desk.

His brush moved smoothly across the surface of an empty manual, the tip guided not by hesitation but by clarity. Each stroke carried a trace of his aura, locking the words into the parchment so they wouldn't fade with time.

"Heart Calming Sutra," he murmured under his breath. His sharp eyes gleamed as lines of memory surfaced which he inherited from Leo Reynolds.

Mo Han's hand did not stop until he had filled the first few chapters with simple breathing patterns, meditative stances, and imagery instructions that could root a man's heart like an immovable mountain.

When he finished, he closed the brush, sealed the ink, and looked at the manual with satisfaction. "This will be enough for him," he said quietly, as if reassuring himself.

A few moments later, Mo Han walked into the main chamber of the stone house. Fatty Lambu sat on the floor, gnawing at a sesame bun, crumbs scattering over his robes. Jia Kai and Chi Kai were seated nearby.

Mo Han held the manual out toward Fatty.

"Here," he said.

Fatty blinked, mouth still full of bread. "Eh? What's this, Brother Han? Another… fighting technique? Please don't tell me it involves rolling or twisting like the last mace technique. My belly doesn't agree with too much spinning."

Mo Han's lips twitched slightly, but his voice stayed serious. "This is no fighting manual. It's more important than any combat technique I've given you. It's called the Heart Calming Sutra. If you practice it properly, no seduction spell or charm powder in this sect will sway you. No perfume, no smile, no kiss will break your will."

The bread fell from Fatty's mouth. His small eyes widened as he clutched the manual with both hands. "R-really? Brother Han… do you mean, with this, I won't faint every time a pretty girl winks at me?!"

Jia Kai sighed deeply. "If it works, maybe you'll finally stop hiding behind doors every time a woman walks past."

Chi Kai pressed her lips together, suppressing a laugh.

Mo Han's gaze hardened. "Lambu, listen to me. If you only hide here, clinging to safety, you'll stay as you are forever. One day, Jia Kai, Chi Kai, and I will grow stronger, and we'll leave this sect. When that day comes, what will you do? If you don't have strength, if you don't have knowledge, your life will end as an average, pitiful being—just another face in the crowd."

Fatty froze, the words hitting him harder than any punch. For a long moment, he was silent, his fingers trembling on the manual's cover.