Inside the Spirit Herb Garden.

  Three months had passed. Zhou Shu was still scrawny, but her aura had reached the second level of Qi Condensation. The freckles remained, but the timid bewilderment in her bones had been replaced by a flinty resolve.

  She knelt with solemn gravity. "Disciple Zhou Shu pays respects to Master."

  "You have some talent for cruelty," Gensheng remarked, looking down at her. "To use a basic Qi-Drawing Manual to commit murder... you are meticulous."

  "You said if I killed him, you would teach me the skills to settle this debt," she whispered, her forehead pressed to the soil.

  "Vengeance?" Gensheng’s lips curled in a sneer. "Revenge is a fool’s errand. You’ve killed an insignificant student; Zhang Cuizhan can replace him with ten more tomorrow. You are at the second level of Qi Condensation; he is at the middle stage of Foundation Establishment. There is a chasm between you. Even if you spend thirty years to reach his level, you'll have wasted your best years on a single grudge. Don't you think that’s a net loss?"

  "My parents... everyone in my village... they just wanted to live in peace," Zhou Shu looked up, tears carving tracks through the dirt and blood on her face. "They never wanted immortality. And yet, they became nothing but wailing ghosts in a black banner. Tell me, Master—wasn't their death the ultimate loss?"

  Gensheng hated this feeling. He was perfectly fine in his dark, damp corner, yet someone insisted on flipping over the stone to let the light in. It was blinding and unnecessary.

  "I beg the Immortal! Grant this disciple a chance for vengeance!"

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  She slammed her head against the gnarled roots of the Sap-Heavy Tree. Thud. Thud. Blood began to trail down her forehead, mixing with tears and mud. She didn't seem to feel the pain, repeating the ritual with obsessive persistence.

  Gensheng’s heart softened by a fraction. "And if you can't get your revenge?"

  "Then I will die on the path to it. No regrets."

  The stalemate of silence lasted for fifteen minutes before it was broken by hurried footsteps. The barrier rippled, and Zhang Cuizhan appeared. The scholarly man was disheveled, his usual composure gone.

  "Fellow Daoist Chen! Fellow Daoist Chen!"

  He rushed in, pausing briefly when he saw the blood-stained Zhou Shu. "Your new disciple is... quite diligent," he noted, choosing a polite word for the grisly scene.

  "What is it?" Gensheng asked flatly.

  "An urgent matter!" Zhang lowered his voice, placing a heavy storage bag on the stone table. "A major sect has sent word. They need us to do a bit of... cleaning."

  "Fifty mid-grade spirit stones as a deposit. Another hundred upon completion."

  The "Jade Tripod Sect"—a powerhouse of the Central Plains—had a traitor who had stolen a great treasure and fled into a secret realm called "Star-Fall Gorge." The realm had a natural restriction: it only allowed Foundation Establishment cultivators. Any higher, and the space would tear them apart.

  "The Jade Tripod Sect views their Foundation disciples as precious treasures. They won't risk them on a suicide mission," Zhang explained with a bitter smile. "But they can't let the traitor go. So, they pay 'hounds' like us to do the dirty work."

  "Why me?"

  "Because only you are suitable," Zhang said earnestly. "The other Elders are either too well-known or lack the versatility. Your insect mastery is unpredictable, and you have a fearless corpse-puppet. You are the perfect choice for an assassination."

  Gensheng remained unmoved. "A hundred and fifty stones for my life? The price is too low."

  Zhang didn't get angry; instead, he smiled. "Straight to the point! I like that. The stones are set by the Jade Tripod Sect, but I have a piece of information that might interest you."

  He leaned in, whispering each word slowly: "According to the scrolls, that secret realm contains a rare insect: The Celestial Calamity Thunder-Pool Flea."