“Go. Catch a few wild beasts. Let’s test it first,” Wei Tu instructed the Wind-Cleaving Eagle.

Alchemist Shu’s remains were right there—he wasn’t going anywhere. There was no reason to be reckless now.

Testing with beasts, taking things cautiously—that was the smart way.

While the Wind-Cleaving Eagle flew off to capture beasts, Wei Tu wandered over to the nearby area and started retrieving the trap talismans and arrays he’d set before the battle.

Even though killing Alchemist Shu had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, during the ambush, Wei Tu hadn’t dared to relax even for a second.

“Just as I suspected—both the corpse and storage pouch are laced with poison.”

As the Wind-Cleaving Eagle brought in beasts that dropped dead the moment they neared Alchemist Shu’s body or storage pouch, Wei Tu’s expression turned grim.

That was because even he couldn’t gauge just how lethal the poison Alchemist Shu had used before dying was—or if it might still affect someone like him, a late-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator.

After all, when Shu fled Cloud Crane Mountain, the brown powder he threw out had completely bypassed the Huang Clan cultivators’ protective shields and poisoned them all.

“Water Gathering Technique!” Wei Tu gave a soft shout and cast a water-type spell, summoning water to dilute the poison clinging to the pouch.

Once the poison had thinned out a bit—

He used a few more beasts to test again. Seeing them hop around without keeling over, he finally took an antidote and stepped forward.

“There’s still some poison left, but it’s not a threat anymore.”

Wei Tu could feel it trying to erode the spiritual energy wrapping around his palm.

But it was so faint it would take at least ten days or half a month to actually reach his core.

He erased the spiritual imprint from Alchemist Shu and opened the storage pouch.

As he sorted through the loot inside, a smile slowly crept across Wei Tu’s lips, his mood improving.

This was, without a doubt, the most valuable storage pouch he’d ever looted in his cultivation life—second only to that treasure-hoarding Si Qing.

Just the spirit stones—

Easily totaled over ten thousand.

And aside from over one thousand low-grade stones, the rest were all mid- and high-grade.

Besides the Emerald Cloud Needle and black banner—both top-tier second-rank artifacts—there were also two upper-grade treasures on par with Si Qing’s blood-colored sword and turtle-shell shield.

But the true highlight was in the “pill section”—bottles of second-rank pills arranged in neat rows.

“Shame I can’t take any of these.”

Wei Tu let out a sigh.

He was fairly certain Alchemist Shu hadn’t poisoned all of them.

But if even one was tainted and he happened to pick the wrong one—no amount of cultivation or antidotes could save him.

He’d rather spend spirit stones on clean, traceable pills than take that risk.

Which meant, for him, the most valuable things in this pouch were essentially useless.

“Huh? No Azure Flame Pills?”

After checking every pill label, Wei Tu’s brows furrowed in confusion.

According to Manager Fan, when Alchemist Shu had refined those Azure Flame Pills, he’d made three in one batch—took one himself, and the other two were supposed to be the incentive in the plan to take down the Huang Clan.

And yet… there wasn’t a single trace of them in the pouch.

“Manager Fan must’ve been bluffing. Azure Flame Pills aren’t that easy to make. Even getting one in a batch is rare—let alone three.”

Wei Tu shook his head.

If Alchemist Shu had really been that skilled in alchemy, the Huang Clan probably wouldn’t have discarded him like trash. They might’ve even helped him form a core.

Any alchemist capable of producing three Azure Flame Pills in one batch would be a prize anywhere.

“Hm? A letter?”

After sorting through the “pill section,” Wei Tu turned to the “miscellaneous” section and quickly spotted a sealed letter tucked among the clutter.

“Alchemist Shu’s final letter?”

He picked it up. The title written on the envelope made him pause.

This was the first time he’d seen a cultivator write a farewell letter for themselves before death.

Then again, remembering that Shu didn’t have long to live anyway—it made sense.

Wei Tu opened the letter and began reading.

There were five pages in total.

The first three pages were all about Shu’s life story.

Like many rogue cultivators—

He had stumbled upon a cultivation method while still a mortal, and from there, stepped onto the path of immortality.

But unlike most others, Alchemist Shu had once taken on a mercenary job and ended up mistakenly entering an ancient cave dwelling. That lucky accident changed his life.

Inside that ancient dwelling, Shu found a third-rank alchemist’s legacy, along with the Five Elements Ring and some other relics.

Thanks to those, he left other rogue cultivators in the dust and steadily climbed to the peak of Foundation Establishment.

Just one step away—

From shedding his mortal shell and becoming a true Golden Core cultivator.

“To rise from a nobody to a top-tier second-rank alchemist, and a pseudo-Golden Core cultivator…”

“Yeah, you don’t get that far without some serious fortune.”

Wei Tu felt a twinge of emotion reading this.

Unlike sect or clan cultivators, every step a rogue took was harsh and full of setbacks. Without a lucky break, nine out of ten never even reached Foundation Establishment.

And that last one—if they made it—still ended up like a walking corpse, stuck at the early stage for life, unable to move forward...

After finishing Alchemist Shu’s life story,

Wei Tu turned to the last two pages of the letter—his final will.

In those two pages, aside from matters of inheritance, Alchemist Shu mostly offered advice to his grandson, Shu Zonghe, on how to avoid disaster after his death.

In the will,

Alchemist Shu urged Shu Zonghe to do good deeds, accumulate virtue, and never bully others just because he had ancestral protection.

That part didn’t really surprise Wei Tu.

No matter how wicked an ancestor might be, they almost always tell their descendants to be good people and avoid going down the wrong path.

“Shu Zonghe?” Wei Tu silently repeated the name three times, committing it to memory.

Alchemist Shu had always operated alone. Aside from a few apprentices, Wei Tu had never heard of him having any descendants.

Of course, the reason Wei Tu remembered Shu Zonghe’s name wasn’t because he planned to wipe out the bloodline and eliminate future threats.

After all, this assassination had been done in secret—no one knew. There was no need to kill Shu Zonghe and draw attention to himself for no reason.

Besides, Wei Tu wasn’t bloodthirsty.

He’d been forced into this situation. If he hadn’t struck first, he would’ve been the one to suffer.

And Alchemist Shu—during that plot to destroy the Huang Clan—hadn’t harbored any goodwill toward him either.

“Guess you can say I repaid that one favor… from the underground auction years ago.”

Wei Tu shook his head, tossed a few talismans onto Alchemist Shu’s corpse, and flew off.

As the talismans landed,

Flames erupted, consuming the body.

After about half an hour, the fire died down, leaving only a thin layer of ash.

A gust of wind blew past, and even that vanished without a trace.

…

After Alchemist Shu’s death,

Wei Tu’s life returned to normal.

He didn’t go looking for Manager Fan. As usual, he waited two to three months before approaching her to sell talismans.

But this time, it wasn’t Manager Fan who received him—it was another member of the Jiu Yun Merchant Guild.

This one was a consecrated cultivator with the surname Wan, given name Ren.

When Wei Tu casually asked where Manager Fan had gone, Wan Ren let out a sigh and looked confused himself.

“I don’t understand either. Manager Fan volunteered to go to the righteous-versus-demonic frontline and kill demon cultivators.”

“She wasn’t due for duty for another two cycles.” Wan Ren shook his head.

The Three Great Immortal Sects didn’t conscript cultivators from the Zheng Kingdom all at once. Instead, each sect, clan, or merchant guild sent members on rotation to staff checkpoints and marketplaces near the frontlines.

Within each power, it became a rotation system.

“Maybe Manager Fan had something to take care of in the next decade or so, so she went early,” Wei Tu said with a chuckle.

Wan Ren might have found it confusing—but Wei Tu didn’t.

Her early departure was proof that his plan had worked.

Now that Alchemist Shu was dead, the secret alliance between the Shuyun Alliance and the Heavenly Maiden Sect risked exposure. To save themselves, Manager Fan and the other alliance cultivators had no choice but to “flee.”

…

Unfortunately,

Luck didn’t quite fall into Wei Tu’s lap.

News of Alchemist Shu’s betrayal and escape from the Huang Clan had spread far and wide, stirring up the entire Zheng Kingdom cultivation world.

At the same time, the incident made it clear to many watching Wei Tu that he was no longer affiliated with the Huang Clan.

And so—

Three months later,

A temporary enforcement team formed by the Three Great Immortal Sects arrived at the Mei Clan of Xiaya Cliff and issued Wei Tu a military summons.

The summons ordered Wei Tu to serve ten years stationed at “Cicada Cry Cliff.”

And if he wanted to leave early, he’d have to earn three major merits on the battlefield.

One major merit meant killing a late-stage Foundation Establishment demonic cultivator.

“Wei Talisman Master, if you’d gone to the Immortal Sect to register earlier, with your talisman skills, you might’ve avoided the frontlines entirely and just focused on crafting.”

“But… you tried to avoid the war and hid out at Xiaya Cliff’s Mei Clan. That’s a major taboo in the Immortal Sect’s eyes.”

The leader of the enforcement squad looked at Wei Tu with a hint of mockery.

When rogue cultivators refused to go to war, it meant more disciples from the Immortal Sects would have to die in their place.

In that light,

Wei Tu stood in natural opposition to the sects’ disciples.

“I understand,” Wei Tu said calmly, glancing at the leader’s face and committing it firmly to memory. Then he cupped his hands and gave a respectful bow.