The ultimate temptation dangled before us like a carrot in front of a very stubborn donkey. Even someone as disciplined as Seraphine couldn’t help but feel her resolve waver.

I watched her take a deep breath, centering herself with that meditation technique she’d perfected over years of cultivation. Her eyes snapped open with renewed focus, and before I could zip away, she caught me mid-flight and cupped me in her palm.

“?” I projected a confused emoticon above my head.

“I have my own path to walk,” she murmured, more to herself than to me. “My cultivation journey must be measured step by step with my own feet. I carry the Dao in my heart, hold heaven and earth in my spirit. I won’t be moved by external gains or losses, won’t be swayed by material temptations. Steady progress is the only true way.”

I wriggled a matchstick-thin appendage between her fingers, waving it frantically in the air.

“Seraphine, I can help you.”

“Seraphine, I can give you so many things, help you fight.”

“Seraphine, Seraphine…”

“Shut up!” she snapped.

Her palm pressed down, and I made a series of “blurp blurp” sounds as I got squished.

After reciting her calming mantra three times, Seraphine finally loosened her grip, temporarily sparing my digital life. I floated over slowly, genuinely puzzled. “Why don’t you want it? I can obviously help you.”

This felt familiar. When we first met, she’d also refused my tasks multiple times.

Seraphine asked me directly: “If you spend all your points on me, what about your future missions?”

I hovered in midair, processing this.

“This is your first assignment since upgrading to advanced level. There will be countless more missions waiting for you. If you spend all your points on me, how will you help other hosts like me?”

My circuits went quiet. “I’ll earn more points after completing the mission. Host doesn’t need to worry.”

“But not as many as you’ve saved over all these years,” Seraphine pointed out.

I immediately backtracked. “In that case, please use them sparingly, Host.”

Seraphine burst into laughter, radiant as a blooming flower.

She reached out to pat my surface gently. “If this were any other cultivator dreaming of instant ascension, they’d be overjoyed and accept immediately. But Echo, I won’t chase pipe dreams of overnight success. I have my own path to walk.”

She cradled me in her palm. My weightless form felt cool against her skin, my supposedly foolish-looking optical sensors staring directly at her.

“I can depend on you for a while, but not forever. You’ll leave someday, and if I become too reliant on you, what will I do when that time comes?” she asked.

My surface flickered bright and dim repeatedly. “By then, Host will have ascended to immortality and become unstoppable. No one could harm you.”

“And after ascension?” Seraphine pressed. “Even if this world is just a story, and the story seems to end, we still have to keep living. After I change my fate, there will be other fates to face. I need to grow on my own.”

I understood what she meant. I nodded—or did the equivalent of nodding. “Then unless Host permits it, I won’t interfere randomly in the future.”

“But if you need me, please call my name without hesitation.”

Seraphine’s smile deepened. She placed me on her shoulder and walked toward the door that had appeared in the distance, stroking my surface as she went. “Good child.”

Two minutes later, this “good child” and Seraphine stood in the Chongshan Immortal Palace, surrounded by the vast ocean of books in the Scripture Pavilion.

I watched Seraphine’s face go as blank as mine during combat mode.

A small purple beast emerged from the sea of texts.

The Thunder Qilin, now twice my size, perched on a reading desk with its chest puffed out proudly. It addressed the newly arrived human and system: “My master earned his title as Sword Saint. Before he began cultivating, he was a scholar. There are 108,000 volumes here, every one of which my master has read and memorized perfectly.”

“Impressive,” I commented.

“Very impressive,” Seraphine agreed dryly.

The little Thunder Qilin continued: “Your task is to read. When you’re ready, sit behind this desk and answer the questions my master left behind. Those who answer correctly will receive my master’s inheritance.”

Seraphine’s expression turned cold, remembering the previous dangerous trials. “And if we answer incorrectly?”

The Thunder Qilin lifted a hind leg to scratch its chin thoughtfully. “If you get it wrong, no problem. Just exit, turn right to the Treasure Pavilion, pick an item, and leave.”

It seemed much more intelligent than before, no longer speaking like it was half-asleep.

“There are three months left before the Chongshan Secret Realm closes. Among the cultivators who’ve reached this point, some gave up because they disliked reading, others quit halfway through, and most got the answers wrong. The first two groups took treasures and continued their adventures in the realm, but those who spent all their time reading only to fail had no time left for other opportunities.” The qilin explained matter-of-factly. “Your choice.”

Seraphine nodded, staring at the mountain of books.

But there was something more dangerous than time constraints: Xue Bufan.

She and Xue Bufan would have their final showdown in this last trial. And she refused to lose.

With determined eyes, Seraphine pulled out a meditation cushion and tea set, settling in gracefully. The Fire Rock Dragon slithered from her wrist, growing larger to coil books with its tail and stack them on the carpet.

Master, please read.

After setting up the final trial, the Thunder Qilin didn’t leave. Instead, it pranced over to me with small, proud steps.

I raised my matchstick appendage politely to greet the qilin: Hello.

The qilin, no longer cross-eyed, circled me twice with obvious interest. “Come with me,” it said.

I glanced at Seraphine, who was already absorbed in her reading, then followed the qilin into the adjacent room.

The Treasure Pavilion.

Glowing artifacts were carelessly piled on shelves, their radiance nearly blinding my optical sensors.

The little Thunder Qilin boasted: “These are all treasures my master left before ascending. Sometimes when I wake up bored, I pick one to chew on. Want to try?”

“Wow,” I responded appropriately.

I’d pass on the chewing—systems don’t have teeth.

However—

“Your master successfully ascended?” I asked with confusion.

The Thunder Qilin looked puzzled by my question, its four little hooves prancing over treasures, leaving purple lightning hoof-prints that made the artifacts chime like struck jade.

“Of course! My master is amazing!” The qilin puffed out its chest proudly.

But the protagonist clearly said the Chongshan Immortal Venerable never ascended, that he died and became a vengeful spirit.

Strange.

I asked, “Who corrupted the mirage beast?”

The Thunder Qilin shook its head. “I sleep most of the time—for a very, very long time. Only a strand of my consciousness remained outside. That consciousness encountered many human cultivators over the years. They all seemed the same to me, except one human’s aura lingered on the mirage beast.”

It stretched like a cat, front half low, rear end high, then continued happily: “Besides the mirage beast, that human cultivator’s aura was everywhere in the secret realm. It was on your human and the others too, concentrated in their rings. I already devoured it for you.”

Not that any amount of aura could harm it—the Thunder Qilin was utterly unconcerned.

Aura?

I felt confused and opened my scanning interface. The panel only showed recent comparison photos of Seraphine, with no data about the “aura” the qilin mentioned.

I accessed the system shop and searched, but found no sensory enhancement tools available for purchase in the host-accessible catalog.

Disappointed, I shook my head and reopened the character files.

This human must be the mirage beast’s new master.

I added a question mark to the blank portrait in the character data, planning to tell Seraphine later. For now, I followed the little Thunder Qilin around the Treasure Pavilion, watching it show off while scanning and recording everything for my reference manual.

“I can’t go any further,” I said, stopping at a shelf.

The Thunder Qilin looked up toward the Scripture Pavilion through the wall. “I remember you saying you can’t leave that cultivator’s hundred-meter radius.”

“You’re pretty clingy.” it observed.

I fired back: “Concentrated essence is precious. You’re smarter when you’re small than when you’re giant-sized.”

The Thunder Qilin laughed, scales sparkling with lightning as it pranced around like a New Year’s lion dance. I immediately recorded this sequence to show Seraphine later.

“This is my true form,” the qilin explained. “What you saw before was just my spiritual consciousness. I’ve been with my master for ages, but I’ve never seen a spirit entity like you before. I wanted to get a closer look.”

“I’ve encountered many qilins,” I replied honestly. “Some alive, some dead.”

“More dead than alive,” I emphasized.

Their body parts ended up as valuable auction items among humans.

Hiss.

The Thunder Qilin sucked in a breath, remembering how I’d chased thunder beasts with a sword. It decided to be more cautious. The thunder beasts in the third trial were formed from its spiritual energy, and it could sense the cultivators’ power through each battle.

It felt the thunder beasts’ deaths too, and this time they were thoroughly annihilated.

This was another reason it wanted to examine this silver orb—so small yet so deadly! Terrifying!

So let’s not fight. Let’s be friends instead.

The qilin proactively brought over treasures from areas I couldn’t reach, while I exchanged cat food from the system shop to treat my new friend.

Qilins should be able to eat cat food, right?

I found a small sword to open the can while pondering whether it would be fatal.

“Please, help yourself.” I offered my new friend.

Due to world restrictions, the cat food cost more points than the sword I’d used against the thunder beasts.

The Thunder Qilin opened its mouth and swallowed the meat along with the can, chewing thoughtfully before commenting with disdain: “Terrible.”

Well, no more feeding then.

“Follow me.” the qilin said again.

I hopped directly onto its back, letting it carry me back to the Scripture Pavilion. Seraphine was still reading intently. I waved a glow stick at her, then rode the qilin to perch on a windowsill.

“Wait for me.” the qilin said, swishing its tail happily before bounding away.

I supported myself against the window frame, then noticed another window nearby. I floated over slowly.

The Chongshan Immortal Palace was magnificent and grand, but the Scripture Pavilion was exquisitely designed. Outside the windows grew exotic flowers and herbs. I perched on a blossom and pressed my matchstick appendage against the neighboring window.

(⊙_⊙)

Through this window was another Scripture Pavilion—the Chongshan Immortal Venerable must have used formations to create two identical pavilions, differing only in their occupants.

Xue Bufan sat on the floor, book in hand, reading intensely.

The “enemy.”

A boxing glove appeared in my thought bubble, and I threw a couple of air punches at Xue Bufan through the window.

Heavy shadows approached. I dismissed the thought bubble and watched the Thunder Qilin return, dragging a massive python by its tail tip. When it released its grip, the python crashed to the ground with a thunderous impact.

The pavilion’s barrier prevented those inside from hearing outside sounds or leaving.

I circled the python. “Earth Fiend Python. Seraphine’s killed these before.”

The Thunder Qilin drooled. “Very tasty!”

It breathed lightning flames, instantly charring the python black.

Smoke enveloped me.

“…”

I wiped my surface, clearing away a layer of ash.

Are you sure this carbonized thing is edible?

The qilin lay down sheepishly.

“My master used to roast them for me—they were delicious!” It seemed desperate to prove it wasn’t lying. “Wait here!” it declared before running off again, soon returning with an even larger python.

“This time will definitely work!” the Thunder Qilin insisted.

It opened its mouth.

Two seconds later, I wiped the thick ash from my surface and extended my matchstick appendage toward the retreating qilin.

Wait up.

This time, the qilin dragged back the biggest, fattest python in the entire secret realm! Before it could fire its lightning, I stopped it.

“Let me handle this.” I said, floating back to the window.

Soon, the Fire Rock Dragon pushed me forward, its horned head bumping against the barrier, flames flickering on its antlers.

Error: Hi.

The Thunder Qilin’s eyes lit up with excitement.

……

108,000 volumes—for a Golden Core cultivator, reading all these books in a lifetime was… theoretically possible.

But precisely because the opportunity seemed so remote, Seraphine refused to give up! She lit concentration incense from her storage ring.

Perhaps to facilitate reading, the Scripture Pavilion was embedded with luminous pearls everywhere, keeping the space bright as daylight regardless of the time, encouraging complete immersion in the sea of knowledge. Seraphine had just set down one book when she caught a savory aroma.

Meat.

“Where did Echo and Error go?” she wondered aloud.

Looking around in confusion, she spotted a scene through the distant open window: a red dragon’s head topped with a purple qilin, which in turn was carrying a gleaming silver system.

The three non-human entities were stacked like acrobats, swimming through the air toward her.

“……”

“Seraphine, look—food!” I placed a plate on her book-covered table.

The plate held perfectly roasted snake meat, golden and fragrant with spices. I even produced a bottle of chili sauce. “Does Host eat spicy food?”

“???”

Seraphine’s eyebrow twitched. She couldn’t fathom how her study hall had transformed into a dining hall. She grabbed my tiny chili bottle—and actually felt it solid in her grip! “Where did the snake meat come from?” she asked, startled.

“The qilin caught it.” I answered truthfully.

The qilin wagged its tail.

“And these seasonings?” she pressed.

“I exchanged them from the system shop.” I continued honestly.

I’d found the Master Chef section and bought scientifically-formulated spice blends from the modern world, though world restrictions made them cost quite a lot of points.

Seraphine’s eyebrow twitched again. She released the chili bottle and grabbed me instead.

“Is this how you waste the points you’ve saved for years?” she demanded.

I considered this. “Another system once told me that points are meant to be spent. Leaving them unused in inventory makes them worthless.”

Just because they told you to spend doesn’t mean you should waste them like this!

I observed Seraphine’s expression and added, “I have plenty of points. This isn’t wasteful.”

The main system kept recommending I visit the system shop for purchases, but I’d refused every time. I was a very restrained system.

Seraphine looked ready to throw me out the window. She laughed coldly. “While the points are your personal assets and you have the right to dispose of them, knowing these points might have been spent on me makes me unhappy with such casual treatment.”

“Without my permission, no more wasteful spending!” she declared.

“Understood!” I agreed immediately.

Message received.

Only then did Seraphine release me with satisfaction. She snorted, retrieved jade chopsticks from her storage ring, and under the bright, expectant gazes of the qilin and Fire Rock Dragon, picked up a piece of roasted snake meat.

The delicious aroma didn’t improve her mood as she said deliberately, “At this rate of spending, I suspect you’ll soon lose your status as one of the few systems that can afford human bodies.”

My head made a “ding” sound as I quickly opened my inventory, checking the string of numbers before contacting the main system to inquire about current human body customization costs.

The main system’s response came immediately, first with a shocked expression, dropping its file folder in surprise. “You want to exchange for a human body?”

“Have you found a world you want to stay in long-term?”

Before I could answer—or perhaps afraid I would—the main system quickly said: “The system realm isn’t what it used to be! Inflation, rising prices, technological innovation, labor costs… I’m not having an easy time either!”

After a lengthy speech, it quoted a price.

I stared blankly and raised my matchstick appendage to carefully count the zeros.

After a long moment, under Seraphine’s meaningful gaze and the main system’s persistent questioning, I closed the conversation. I paused, then said: “It’s fine. I won’t exchange for a human body.”

Haha.

I laughed twice in my cold, mechanical voice, very much like a voice pack.

Seraphine couldn’t suppress her amusement. After praising their cooking skills, she shooed the troublemakers away to play elsewhere.

The mischief-makers stacked up again and departed.

Over the following days, the qilin provided meat, the Fire Rock Dragon provided fire, and I provided expensive spices that quickly ran out. The roasted meat was mostly devoured by the qilin after Seraphine ate her portion, while the Fire Rock Dragon consumed all the remaining spirit pills.

Through their shared meals, the qilin and Fire Rock Dragon’s friendship reached new heights, with me serving as the neutral mediator.

I’m fine with whatever.

One evening, after everyone had eaten their fill.

The qilin, Fire Rock Dragon, and I huddled together. The qilin blinked its large eyes and told me: “The human cultivator next door keeps talking to himself. He seems planning to take the third trial in the next day or two.”

An exclamation mark appeared above my head as I glanced at Seraphine, still deep in her reading. “I want Seraphine to obtain the inheritance.”

The qilin treated all human cultivators equally, but it liked me. After thinking, it said: “I can’t help with that. The trial was set by my master, and I won’t interfere.”

“But if you were a contracted spirit beast of that human cultivator, you could enter the trial together.”

Oh no!

Hearing this, I grabbed the curled-up Fire Rock Dragon with my matchstick appendage and shook it.

Stop sleeping. Get up and study.

How can someone your age sleep so soundly?

The Fire Rock Dragon, having consumed several spirit beast pills and fallen into deep cultivation sleep, merely twitched its tail weakly.

“Oh no!” I repeated.

“I need to find a way to help Seraphine.” To change the predetermined plot required tremendous effort, like Seraphine’s life-or-death battle with the mirage beast.

If it had been Xue Bufan in that situation, it certainly wouldn’t have been so deadly.

Literally life-or-death.

I spun in circles.

Seeing this, the Thunder Qilin also spun in circles, its purple lightning tail accidentally entering its mouth. The qilin bit down on its own tail, happily spinning with electricity crackling in its mouth.

This one’s hopeless too.

I raised my matchstick appendage and calmly extinguished a stray bolt of purple lightning that floated toward me. The purple electricity tingled pleasantly when it touched my surface, like a spiritual massage.

“Ah,” I said.

“I understand now.” the system declared.

Since I had a physical form and was in the Scripture Pavilion, I should be able to take the trial myself. I wasn’t sure if Qiu Shuangshuang had reached the third trial, but if I could pass before both Xue Bufan and Qiu Shuangshuang, it would be victory for me and my host.

I floated to the center of the Scripture Pavilion, hovering beneath a luminous pearl. The Thunder Qilin picked up the limp Fire Rock Dragon by its tail and trotted over, perching atop a bookshelf and wagging its tail curiously.

What are you planning, my friend?

The qilin tilted its head.

“Knowledge is an ocean without shores,” I declared in my cool voice. “I’m setting sail.”

In one corner of the pavilion, golden-red skirts spread across the floor. Seraphine leaned against stacked cushions, her pale fingers massaging her temples as her gaze swept over the vast collection of books, deep in thought.

While she didn’t know what questions the third trial would pose, how could anyone read so many books in just a few months? Unless the third trial had some other hidden mechanism?

Seraphine pondered various possibilities, her thoughts growing heavier. Suddenly, she felt wind blowing from above, rustling the pages of nearby books.

She looked up in amazement, her pupils contracting as amazement transformed into shock at what she saw on the ceiling.

She couldn’t help but call out my name.

“Echo…”

At the ceiling’s center, a silver-white orb radiated gentle light. Countless transparent panels surrounded it, suspended in the air. The wind-blown book pages rustled loudly as the floating virtual panels filled with rapidly scrolling text—ancient and modern characters being scanned and organized into files.

“Whoa!”

The Thunder Qilin bounded between the panels like chasing butterflies, pawing at things it couldn’t possibly touch, as excited as if performing the climax of a lion dance.

“Whoa!!”

“When my master forgot certain passages from books, he used to flip through them like this too!” the qilin exclaimed joyfully.

A thumbs-up appeared in my thought bubble.

The wind blew freely, finishing each book in moments. Once recorded, the books fluttered down like falling leaves, piling into mountains of ink-scented knowledge on the floor. The open volumes seemed to whisper of ages past, as if glimpses of the great Dao itself could be seen through paper and ink.

At the peak of the book mountain, a system no larger than half a palm folded its matchstick appendages.

“Clap.” I provided my own sound effect.

The layers of virtual panels stacked like my size, shrinking into paper sheets that flew into my grasp and compressed into a thick tome.

I pressed my appendage on the thick book’s cover, compressing it further until it became a thin sheet that I rolled up and stuffed into my mouth.

Data package received. Learning never ends, but we can pause here. Captain Echo, ready for examination!

The thought-bubble system tied a red ribbon around her spherical head, confidently producing a pencil case from compressed data.

Seraphine lifted her skirts and looked up at me through the black mountain of books.

“What are you planning?” she asked.

Golden light flashed across my surface. I declared confidently: “Seraphine, let’s take the exam together.”

Understanding my intention, Seraphine’s lips curved upward. She tossed aside her book casually and said lazily, “Very well. Let me witness Echo’s brilliance once more.”

She transformed into flowing light, settling at the examination desk. I floated over to land beside her hand. Human and system exchanged glances, then simultaneously reached out—hand and appendage—to grasp the brush.

The jade brush glowed softly, and light and shadow wavered around us as our consciousness was instantly drawn into another space.

At that moment, above the Scripture Pavilion, a suspended bronze bell resonated with deep, world-shaking tones.

Having just crawled out of the thunder beast trial, covered in dirt and wiping away tears, Qiu Shuangshuang looked up at the swaying bell.

She instinctively covered her ears and shouted: “What now?!”

In the other Scripture Pavilion, Xue Bufan heard the bell and immediately looked up. A spiritual consciousness fragment emerged from his ring, speaking urgently: “Disaster! Someone has entered the third trial ahead of us! What are you waiting for? Go quickly!”

Xue Bufan nodded immediately and flew to the desk, grasping the brush.

I spun around in the sepia-toned scene.

The view outside the Scripture Pavilion expanded and approached, rendered in ink wash with large blank spaces. Clouds drifted leisurely across the sky, and a waterfall fell silently through them.

A hand extended from the side, fingers holding a white chess piece, placing it on the board beneath my feet.

“You’re not human?” the figure observed.

I finished mapping the area and turned to look at him.

A disheveled man sat beneath a leaning pine tree, face obscured, with books scattered around his feet. Several wine jars stood or lay nearby, one containing a plain, unpretentious sword.

“I’m here for the examination,” I announced, producing my pencil case.

“Extraordinary! Marvelous! Though I fancied myself worldly, I’ve never encountered a spirit entity like you.” The seemingly casual swordsman laughed heartily, pointing at me. “Both the mirage beast and thunder beasts died by your sword. Compared to fledgling birds and naive children, you’re far more qualified to stand here.”

Who?

Naive child must be Xue Bufan. Fledgling bird was Seraphine?

My optical sensors adjusted to different sizes as I addressed the swordsman: “I want to help Seraphine obtain the inheritance. Please begin the examination.”

The Thunder Qilin said its master had ascended successfully. The Chongshan Immortal Venerable before me wasn’t the person himself, but a consciousness fragment he’d left behind.

Hearing my words, the consciousness laughed again, scratching his head before lying down among the books. “My inheritance belongs to whomever I choose to give it to. But you do need to answer questions first.”

He grabbed a random book, crossed his legs casually, flipped to a random page, and asked: “In the Sacred Transcriptions of Luoshu, page 38, line 5, what is the ninth character?”

“……”

Too easy.

“……”

Seraphine sat across from me on the chessboard, expressionless. “Seriously?”

The slovenly man gripping the book looked more like a street ruffian than anyone else if he’d had a grass blade in his mouth. The Chongshan Immortal Venerable replied innocently: “I'm always serious.”

Seraphine closed her eyes, opened them again, and continued looking expressionless while randomly guessing: “The.”

“Of.”

“Is.”

The Chongshan Immortal Venerable scratched his head. “Fine. Given that your cultivation method shares origins with an old friend of mine, I’ll be lenient this once. Next question.”

Seraphine’s head snapped up at the mention of her cultivation method, her gaze sharp as a blade as it fell on the Chongshan Immortal Venerable’s phantom. The consciousness holding the book acted oblivious, flipping through more pages. “In The Immortal Journey of Lord Liu, Lord Liu encountered a white deer south of Chu Mountain. The white deer asked Lord Liu where the immortal path lay. Lord Liu answered, and the white deer was pleased, granting Lord Liu an immortal pill to achieve daytime ascension.”

Seraphine raised an eyebrow, expression serious. She’d read The Immortal Journey of Lord Liu many times and remembered the white deer’s conversation with Lord Liu clearly. Moreover, that white deer wasn’t ordinary—it was said to be the legendary Phoenix Goddess in disguise.

If the questions were about this travelogue, Seraphine felt quite confident.

The Chongshan Immortal Venerable asked the very confident Seraphine: “When the white deer questioned Lord Liu, it twisted its head to look at the immortal mountains. I ask you—when it twisted its head to look at the mountains, which antler tine pointed at Lord Liu?”

“……” Seraphine stared blankly.

Huh?

“Nonsense!” She slammed the table angrily. “There’s no mention of the white deer twisting its head to look at mountains with antler tines pointing at Lord Liu!”

“There certainly is!” the Chongshan Immortal Venerable protested, spreading the book on the table and pointing to the text. “Black and white, clear as day—the white deer looked at the immortal mountains!”

Seraphine demanded: “What about the antlers? Where do the antlers come from?”

The two stubborn individuals argued heatedly. The Chongshan Immortal Venerable said: “Though the white deer was the goddess in disguise, she took the form of a stag—male deer naturally have antlers!”

Seraphine laughed coldly. “Ha.”

“Even if it was a stag, how do you know which antler pointed at Lord Liu? The book doesn’t specify—how do you know it wasn’t several tines pointing at him?”

The Chongshan Immortal Venerable grew angry. “I just know! Let me tell you—it was the third tine pointing at Lord Liu! Haha!”

Seraphine ground her teeth, finding the Chongshan Immortal Venerable utterly unreasonable. How could such a person become an immortal lord? By comparison, the sometimes clueless Echo was practically the world’s most perfect person!

No, system!

Actually, orb!

“Hahaha!” The Chongshan Immortal Venerable laughed heartily, waving his hand to dissolve the surrounding books into ink traces. He pushed aside the chess pieces and produced a tea set, beginning to brew.

“You failed this trial, but it doesn’t matter. Your Dao differs from mine—even if you obtained my inheritance, it would be useless.”

Getting it and using it are entirely different matters.

Seraphine’s expression remained ice-cold. “Hmph.”

The Chongshan Immortal Venerable poured tea, muttering to himself: “This temper is just like my old friend’s. You phoenix and phoenix-related folk are all proud and haughty.”

Seraphine remained silent, accepting the tea the Chongshan Immortal Venerable offered and sipping slowly.

With just one sip, tremendous spiritual energy flooded her spiritual veins, sweeping away like a mighty river to cleanse all the hidden injuries from her battles in the secret realm. Seraphine felt instantly refreshed and stood to bow formally to the Chongshan Immortal Venerable.

“Thank you, Immortal Venerable.”

The Chongshan Immortal laughed and waved dismissively. “We have no master-disciple fate, but we share half a connection. Go on, then.”

Half a connection?

Seraphine looked puzzled. As she rose, she saw the Chongshan Immortal Venerable’s phantom dissolve into ink smoke like the books before him, leaving only a diagonal sword stuck in a wine jar.

According to the Chongshan Immortal Venerable, he’d left behind his cultivation method and sword techniques. Those who inherited his path would naturally become his disciples.

Seraphine mused: The Chongshan Immortal Venerable’s personality matches his spiritual energy—free-spirited, unrestrained, and unbound. While I may be proud, compared to him, I’m still more conventional than this naturally uncarved gem.

This frustrating yet oddly endearing feeling reminded her of a certain system. Speaking of which, she wondered if Echo had successfully entered the trial and whether it could pass…

Since I’m already here anyway.

She bent down to pick up the teacup from the chessboard and drained it completely.

Meanwhile, on the other side—

Xue Bufan wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, unable to suppress his inner relief.

The questions his master had hinted at were all asked, just as predicted! And he’d answered every single one of the nine questions correctly!

A smile appeared on Xue Bufan’s face as he looked toward his master’s phantom.

Though he couldn’t see his master’s face, his former master appeared so radiant, so graceful and carefree, so dashingly handsome!

He praised the Chongshan Immortal Venerable’s bearing in his heart while the phantom set aside his book and laughed: “You’re quite excellent indeed. Blessed with natural fortune, practicing the sword path, and possessing the same lightning spiritual root as mine—you’re perfectly suited to cultivate my sword techniques!”

Joy flashed across Xue Bufan’s face as he immediately moved to kowtow, but the Chongshan Immortal Venerable raised his hand, stopping him mid-bow.

“However,” this word sent Xue Bufan’s heart plummeting as he looked desperately at the Chongshan Immortal Venerable.

The Chongshan Immortal Venerable shook his head thoughtfully: “However, someone—well, a person—completed my trial before you. That person possesses unfathomable talent and a nature that aligns with my path.”

Xue Bufan collapsed to his knees in despair, immediately recalling his master’s words from their first meeting:

“The world insults you, slanders you, yet you still retain kindness in your heart. What humans call ‘heart’ is nothing but mediocre creatures chasing fame and profit, stepping on others while lifting themselves up. Everyone in this world except you and me can be tempted, used, and killed. If all mortals died, who would be left to compete with you!”

Those words from the spiritual consciousness fragment echoed in his memory banks as he watched the drama unfold. Spiritual consciousness fragments from ascended cultivators—nasty little things, really. They’re just broken pieces of divine consciousness, saturated with the resentment and pain from when the original soul was shattered. They can’t represent the cultivator’s true personality. The more the soul heals, the more normal it becomes.

Back then, Xue Bufan thought the spiritual consciousness fragment’s words were too extreme. But when that spiritual consciousness fragment gave him treasures to repair his spiritual roots and helped him return to the cultivation path, he felt grateful enough to accept it as his master. He brought it out of that cave, searched for other spiritual consciousness fragments, and conveniently ignored all the extreme rhetoric.

Now, though? Everything that spiritual consciousness fragment predicted was coming true.

One wrong step leads to a thousand more mistakes. If he really had great fortune, why did the ascending energy currents in Chongshan Secret Realm tear apart his spiritual veins? Why, even after reaching this place, couldn’t he obtain what he sought?

The opportunity was right there in front of him, and once again, he’d let it slip through his fingers! He used to be a carefree prodigy, blessed by heaven itself. How had he fallen to such depths?

Xue Bufan raised his hand to his disguised, ugly face. His eyes lost their clarity as inner demons began to take root. Just as his sanity teetered on the edge, he heard the phantom of Chongshan Immortal Venerable say leisurely, “You should call her Senior Sister.”

The demonic transformation paused. Xue Bufan’s head snapped up. “Senior Sister?”

Chongshan Immortal Venerable continued nodding and smiling. “You’re both excellent. I never said there was only one inheritance. After waiting thousands of years, I’ve finally found what I was looking for. Haha!”

He’d finally found disciples—two of them!

“This is my Way, my Will, my Aspiration! The fruit of my lifelong cultivation! From now on, you enter my sect, and this cannot be changed.” The Chongshan Immortal Venerable’s voice grew solemn.

Xue Bufan’s unborn inner demons turned around and rushed toward the Bridge of Forgetfulness for reincarnation. Tears of joy streamed down his face as he performed the disciple’s bow to Chongshan Immortal Venerable, respectfully calling him Master.

The phantom of Chongshan Immortal Venerable laughed heartily, projecting a ball of light toward Xue Bufan. The light merged into his spiritual sea, transforming into a manual.

“Sword Immortal Arts”

By the time Xue Bufan looked up, the phantom of Chongshan Immortal Venerable that had granted him the inheritance had already dispersed.

Xue Bufan kowtowed three times toward where the phantom had sat, saying in a low voice, “Thank you, Master. I will inherit Master’s sword path, punish evil and eliminate wickedness, and protect our sect!”

Seraphine opened her eyes.

The mountain of books cast deep shadows, and a silver-white orb bobbed past her face. She reached out and caught it.

“Oh.” I said, because apparently that’s what passes for surprise in my emotional subroutines.

Tiny sparkles appeared around me as I addressed Seraphine. “You’re out?”

She held me in her grip, frowning. “Yes. What about you?”

From my leisurely demeanor, she probably thought I hadn’t even entered the third trial.

“I already finished.” I told her calmly, explaining the third trial. “The questions were simpler than I expected. I’m quite efficient at problem-solving.”

Honestly, I’d spent more time chatting with Chongshan Immortal Venerable than actually taking the test.

Seraphine: “……”

Seraphine’s expression became… colorful.

“The proctor and test creator seemed very satisfied with me, so he gave me this.” I continued, retrieving a ball of light from my storage space.

Intense sword intent—far stronger than anything I’d wielded before—burst forth. Under its pressure, Seraphine could barely move, her face pale as she forced three words through gritted teeth: “Put it away!”

I obediently stored the inheritance back in my inventory. “Sorry, Seraphine. You seem a bit… weak.”

Seraphine: “……”

Seraphine’s grip on me tightened. Her fingers squeezed me hard.

One more word. Just try saying one more word.

“I didn’t expect you to actually get it…” Seraphine hummed softly, releasing her grip and watching me lie quietly in her palm. “What kind of inheritance is it?”

“It’s Chongshan Immortal Venerable’s sword technique and mental cultivation method,” I explained. “He wanted me to be his disciple. Said if I liked it, I could use his sword techniques—guaranteed to be effective. But I didn’t agree.”

I looked at Seraphine. “You wanted this, so I brought it back for you.”

Something complex stirred in Seraphine’s heart at my words. She lowered her lashes, staring at my ridiculous black eye circles with an expression mixing surprise, hesitation, frustration, and barely detectable shyness.

Seraphine quickly covered the orb with her hand. Her throat bobbed as she turned her head away, trying to sound calm. “Forget it. You’re the one who passed the final test, not me. You’re the one who contributed at crucial moments in all the trials. Chongshan Immortal Venerable was satisfied with you, not me. Besides, I have cultivation methods from my childhood. I don’t need his inheritance.”

“What belongs to you belongs to you. Just keep the inheritance.”

I squeezed my head out from between her fingers, observing her expression.

Seraphine sneaked a glance back at me, lazily meeting my gaze. “What do you want to say?”

“I’m trying to confirm something,” I said hesitantly. “A previous host once told me that when humans say they don’t want something, they actually do want it. When they say they’re not angry and it doesn’t matter, they’re actually very angry and it matters a lot.”

Seraphine: “……”

Just who taught you all this nonsense?

“Really don’t want it?” I asked again.

Seraphine ground her teeth. The gentle ripples in her heart vanished completely as she said decisively, “Don’t need it!”

“I’ve been cultivating my mother’s techniques since childhood. I have my own natal weapon. What would I need his sword arts for!” She laughed coldly while poking me. “But since he left the inheritance to you, you should keep it and cultivate it. Stop just waving that little sword of yours around randomly! Chongshan Immortal Venerable at least cultivated to the ascension level. Do you know how much bloodshed his inheritance would cause in the outside world?”

I rolled around under her poking, making a small “oh” sound. “Understood.”

I couldn’t help but add, “Though my marketplace has plenty of techniques like this. If you ever change your mind, I could buy you another—”

Before I could finish, Seraphine’s darkened expression launched me through the air. I traced an arc like a shooting star until the qilin bounded over and caught me in its mouth with a wagging tail.

Hide and seek.

Caught you!