Three days later, Qingmu Settlement.

  Freed from the control of the Mother Gu, Miaojiang was reborn.

  As night fell, massive bonfires lit up the sky. Xu Nan's squad and Xie Changyuan were treated as the highest-honored guests by the entire village. Having survived this life-and-death ordeal, Su Wan sat beside Xie Changyuan. Looking at his still-swollen face, she did something unprecedented: she personally handed him a piece of roasted meat. Young Master Xie was so overwhelmed by the favor that he sat there grinning like an idiot for a long time.

  Holding the roasted meat like it was the imperial seal, Xie Changyuan babbled repeatedly, "Meat roasted by Wan-er's own hands! Even if eating this gives me inner demons, it's worth it! The wind in The Hundred Thousand Mountains carries miasma; hide behind me so the smoke doesn't get in your eyes..."

  Sitting nearby, Xu Nan rolled his eyes so hard they nearly cramped. He interrupted without a shred of politeness. "Young Master Xie, that meat is burnt on the outside and bleeding on the inside. But since you're eating it so happily, how about we settle the 'extraction fee' for when I risked my life to go back into the dungeon and save you? I'll give you a discount and round it off to a flat five hundred Mid-grade Spirit Stones."

  "Fatty Xu, are your eyes completely blinded by money?!" Xie Changyuan yelled, his eyes widening like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. "I paid you a three-hundred stone deposit back outside!"

  "Different accounts for different transactions! That deposit was to protect Senior Sister Su! Extracting you comes with a separate premium! Without me pushing you onto that skiff, you would have been sucked dry by that Core Formation monster!" Xu Nan argued with absolute self-righteousness, extending his hand as far as it would go. "Pay up! No credit allowed!"

  Just as the two were arguing heatedly, the Village Chief walked over carrying a large bowl of wine.

  "Immortal Xu! Immortal Yan! Young Master Xie! To our saviors!" Free from the Dark Shaman Cult's control, the Village Chief had shed his shrewd facade. Holding the massive bowl, old tears streamed down his face.

  The machete wounds on A'Jiao's back had been bandaged. She was wearing a black-based red Miaojiang dress covered in exquisite embroidery, looking like a bride ready for her wedding. She pinched the hem of her clothes, acting uncharacteristically bashful. "Fatty, my dad said that from now on, you're the new Village Chief of our settlement. Tomorrow, we hold the wedding ceremony!"

  The roasted meat in Xu Nan's hand almost fell into the fire. He looked at A'Jiao's arms—which were thicker than his thighs—and that bashful expression on a face capable of punching a cow to death. His brain began frantically calculating an escape route for tonight. If I consummate this marriage, will I even be breathing tomorrow morning? This is an absolute, catastrophic loss of a trade!

  Clutching the meat, Xu Nan smiled a smile that looked uglier than crying.

  He covertly shot a look at Yan Zheng across the fire. Yan Zheng, whose wounds were still healing, seemed to understand. Enduring the pain, he picked up a massive bowl of Scorching Throat Liquor and, with a loud gulp, drained it to the bottom.

  Half a breath later.

  Yan Zheng's hard, iron-like face flushed liver-red. His eyes glazed over, and he stood up unsteadily. "Hehe... Fatty... let me give you a kiss..."

  "Holy shit! Don't come over here!"

  Xu Nan let out a bloodcurdling shriek and began sprinting frantically around the bonfire. Seeing her man about to be forcibly kissed, A'Jiao grabbed a piece of firewood and joined the fray.

  "Where did this black iron tower come from, daring to steal my man?!" A'Jiao roared like a tiger, swinging the massive club with terrifying force. Caught in the middle, Xu Nan ran so fast he lost a shoe. He had to dodge Yan Zheng's spine-chilling bear hugs while simultaneously evading A'Jiao's skull-crushing "loving protection." The entire scene descended into utter chaos.

  On the roof of the guest pavilion in the distance.

  Hidden in the darkness, the female assassin Jiang Yue watched the chubby youth howling and sprinting below, chased by a sword cultivator begging for a kiss and a Miaojiang village girl swinging a club.

  The image of the "world-destroying, terrifying demon" she had built in her mind shattered into a million pieces. Sitting on the roof, her eye twitched, and a bizarre, exasperated expression that was half-laugh, half-cry crossed her face.

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  Amidst the flying chickens and jumping dogs, Xu Nan finally managed to smash a handful of knockout powder into Yan Zheng's face. The absurd farce ended, and the world finally found peace.

  Early the next morning, when A'Jiao kicked open the doors of the guest pavilion carrying a bowl of sobering soup, the rooms were empty.

  Crash! The sobering soup, which had taken an hour to brew, fell from A'Jiao's hands and shattered on the floor. She stared at the empty beds, frozen in place.

  Hearing the noise, the Village Chief and the others rushed over.

  On the table sat dozens of bulging storage bags—the vast majority of the loot Xu Nan and the squad had raided from the Dark Shaman Cult's vault. Every spirit stone and medicinal herb had been left behind.

  Beneath the bags lay a single letter.

  The handwriting on the paper was neat, square, and devoid of any excess ink, looking exactly like the most rigorous ledger kept by an old pawnshop manager:

  "This humble Xu has imposed on you for several days. Miss A'Jiao suffered blade wounds to protect us for no reason. In my life, I calculate every copper, but I despise owing a debt of flesh and blood. Today, I leave behind these dirty spoils from the Dark Shaman Cult's vault to cover the medical expenses and our meals. From this moment on, the accounts are balanced, and neither party owes the other. The mountains are high and the rivers are long; may we both find peace."

  Holding the letter and looking at the massive fortune on the table, the Village Chief's hands trembled violently, tears bursting from his eyes.

  "The Immortal's note... he wrote the ledger backwards!" The Village Chief's knees gave out, and he dropped to the ground, weeping loudly. "It is our entire village that owes the Immortal a massive, life-saving debt!"

  Every man, woman, and child in the Qingmu Settlement dropped to their knees in front of the pavilion, solemnly bowing their heads toward the northern sky in gratitude.

  A'Jiao didn't kneel. She stared dead at the letter, her eyes completely red. Stepping out of the pavilion, she viciously stomped her foot.

  Boom! The hard bluestone slab beneath her shattered, forming a foot-deep crater as rock fragments flew everywhere.

  "The accounts are balanced? You heartless fat bastard, keep dreaming!" A'Jiao pointed at the northern sky, jumping up and cursing like an enraged lioness, even as tears streamed down her face. "You touched my hand (forced), you saw my purity (looked at her face), and you think you can just leave a pile of broken rocks and run?! You just wait! Even if I have to chase you to the ends of the earth, I will go to The Central Continent, drag you back, and throw you into the bridal chamber! The monk can run, but the temple can't!"

  Meanwhile, on the flight skiff hundreds of miles away.

  Lying spread-eagle on the deck, Xu Nan sneezed out of nowhere. He glanced at the still-recovering Yan Zheng, and then at Su Wan and Xie Changyuan, who were talking in low voices.

  Xie Changyuan was shamelessly hovering around Su Wan, constantly asking, "Does Wan-er's wound still hurt?" Though Su Wan remained aloof, for the first time, she didn't draw her Flowing Cloud Silk to whip him.

  Listening to them, Xu Nan rolled his eyes. He patted the artifacts and cultivation manuals he had pilfered from the Cult, but his chubby round face suddenly scrunched into a frown.

  He had used the Crucible this time. He had no idea how massive a toll Heaven was going to exact for the transaction fee.

  ...

  Simultaneously, in the extreme north of The Central Continent, at the bottom of the Ten-Thousand-Fathom Black Ice Abyss.

  Blizzards raged year-round here, freezing dripping water instantly. It was the most secretive and desolate location for closed-door death cultivation in The Central Continent.

  Inside a hidden cave at the very bottom of the abyss, a figure wearing a grayish-blue Daoist robe sat cross-legged on a bed of Millennium Cold Jade. Tossed casually beside him was a simple wooden mask—the exact same mask worn by the mysterious man who had thrown the skiff and snapped the Spirit-Locking Chains in the dungeon.

  He slowly opened his eyes. Seeming to sense the location of the skiff, his eyes, deep as the stars, filled with relief.

  "He escaped... Little Junior Brother, truly the son of Master and Mistress. You are even more cunning and resilient than I imagined." A gentle smile touched the corners of his mouth.

  That day in Miaojiang, to avoid alerting the Heavenly Dao, he had only executed two microscopic actions: "tossing the ship" and "snapping the chain." He hadn't dared to reveal a single trace of excess spiritual energy in front of Xu Nan.

  "As long as I don't directly interfere with the grand scheme, don't leak my identity, and don't show my true face, the Heavenly Dao should..."

  Before he could finish his sentence, his expression drastically changed!

  Rumble!

  Outside the cave, in the previously clear sky above the Black Ice Abyss, a silent bolt of purple lightning struck without warning!

  Pfft—!

  He pitched forward violently, violently coughing up a massive mouthful of black blood that instantly stained the Millennium Cold Jade a dead black.

  His profound, ocean-like cultivation felt as if it had been brutally locked down by invisible chains. Immediately after, an indescribable, agonizing pain erupted from the very depths of his soul.

  It was the agony of ten thousand arrows piercing the heart!

  Thousands upon thousands of invisible Laws of Heaven and Earth transformed into the sharpest arrows, piercing through his meridians and bone marrow one by one, finally nailing themselves ruthlessly into his soul, twisting slowly and cruelly.

  "Urgh..."

  He clamped his lips shut, his teeth shattering from the pressure as blood dripped down his chin. His normally steadfast, mountain-like face was violently contorted by the extreme pain. His muscles felt as if they were tearing apart. Cold sweat instantly soaked his Daoist robes, freezing into frost in the extreme cold.

  This pain could not be defended against, nor could he pass out to escape it. He could only endure it while fully conscious.

  Yet, amidst the ultimate agony, the corners of his mouth forced out a difficult smile.

  "Master... Mistress..."

  Coughing up black blood, he whispered hoarsely in the empty ice cave, his voice so weak only he could hear it.

  "Did I do the right thing?"