"Simin, maybe we should just run."

  The flesh on Chen Gensheng’s back writhed slightly; his ink-colored wings were primed to burst forth. The cultivation world was vast; surely there was a corner where he could quietly refine pills and earn spirit stones.

  If this place won't hold a cockroach, there's always a nest for a mantis elsewhere.

  Just as he steeled his resolve to flee with Li Simin, a withered figure carrying a familiar, gargantuan black wooden coffin appeared silently outside the barrier.

  Ghost Elder stepped through the pale green light and stood before him. His face, mottled with age spots, wore a complex expression.

  "Fate is a cruel jester. I didn't expect you to end up here as well."

  "I know you are suspicious by nature," Ghost Elder sighed, setting the heavy coffin on the ground. "But rest easy. This place is exactly what it appears to be. Elder Zhang is just a scholar who loves his books; his politeness is genuine, do not overthink it."

  Seeing a familiar face allowed Gensheng’s heart—which had been lodged in his throat—to settle slightly. "Why are you here?"

  "I have always been a Guest Elder of the True Heaven-Valve Sect," the old man replied as if it were obvious. "I simply dislike the shackles of a sect and prefer to roam. When I heard someone of your description had arrived, I came to look."

  He scanned Gensheng with cloudy eyes full of admiration. "Foundation Establishment... faster than I anticipated. It seems I will never catch up to you. I trust the coffin I gave you has served you well?"

  Gensheng remained silent. Ghost Elder. Li Chan. Jiang Guixian. The Myriad Insect Casket. The Chart of a Hundred Apertures.

  Everything was connected by an invisible thread, and he was the kite being pulled along.

  "Are you also a disciple of Jiang Guixian?"

  "What sort of man do you think he was?" Ghost Elder scoffed. "A mere Peak Qi Condensation wretch like me isn't fit to carry his shoes. It was Senior Brother Li Chan who entrusted me to look after you! Stay here and be at peace!"

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  Seeing Gensheng’s lingering distrust, Ghost Elder barked, "Didn't he make it clear before he died? Everything he did was to avenge your Master. Unfortunately, he overestimated himself and underestimated that Lu Zhaozhao."

  "Do you know why he helped you? Because you hold Jiang Guixian’s casket. You are the sole successor of his lineage. That line has always been thin. If he died, you became the last sprout. As for me..."

  He patted his coffin. "He gave me something I couldn't refuse to perform one last task: to tuck you away safely inside this sect. I didn't expect you to find your own way here."

  Ghost Elder threw a tattered beast-skin manual toward him. "This is the Compendium of a Hundred Herbs. It records the habits of every plant in this garden. Li Chan said your 'six arms' had a knack for alchemy and talismans; don't ruin this place."

  The old man turned to leave. "I have done all I was asked. I have repaid Li Chan’s favor. From here on, the path is yours to walk alone."

  He stopped, pointing a skeletal finger toward a massive tree deep in the garden. "Look. That Sap-Heavy Treewas planted by Li Chan’s own hand. Even if you let your insects feast on it for decades, they could never finish it."

  Gensheng’s heart tightened. He turned slowly toward the Great Tree. Its canopy was like an umbrella, every leaf pulsing with life. It was massive—a tree of this scale would take at least a century to grow.

  Gensheng’s throat moved. A strange, familiar heat surged from his chest, making it hard to breathe. He was a cockroach struggling in a sewer, yet along the way, he kept encountering pure, selfless kindness.

  "Stupid," he whispered. He wasn't sure if he was mocking Li Chan or himself.

  The lineage was gone. Li Chan had died seeking half-finished vengeance. Now, only this single sprout remained. Gensheng slid down the trunk, sitting on the dirt. He finally understood why Ghost Elder always carried that coffin; it was the same reason he kept Li Simin.

  "Simin..." his voice was raspy.

  A cockroach should be selfish. Kindness should just be meat falling from the sky—swallow it and move on, regardless of who threw it or why. He tried to tell himself this, but his words felt like self-deception.

  "Just a bug struggling to live... lucky enough to reach Foundation, yet I don't even know how to use a mid-grade stone."

  Vengeance, honor—those were for the heroes in storybooks. "I am no hero."

  His chest heaved. The emotion stuck in his throat finally broke through. His knees buckled, and he knelt heavily on the ground. He lowered his head, pressing his forehead against the gnarled roots of the Sap-Heavy Tree.

  "Master Jiang Guixian, Senior Brother Li Chan... people say it is ungentlemanly not to avenge a debt. But I am a cockroach; I am no gentleman."

  "I have only heard of Lu Zhaozhao’s power from others. If I am lucky enough to reach the Golden Core stage, I will go to Linglan for revenge. If I die on the way, do not blame me."

  He slammed his head against the root with a dull thud.

  "If there is a chance in the next life, find a smarter disciple. Do not choose a cold-blooded pest like me again."

  Three prostrations.

  Gensheng stood up and brushed the dirt from his knees. With those three bows, he felt as if he had finally "repaid" that heavy burden of kindness.

  "Simin. Go look at our garden. I want to stay here a while longer."