Liao Zhiyuan’s expression twisted into something almost unrecognizable. He tried over and over to say the person’s name. But every time he was just about to say it, his throat seemed stuffed with thick cotton, and no matter how hard he struggled, he couldn’t make a single sound.

At this point, Liao Zhiyuan couldn’t help but notice something was seriously wrong.

“Damn it, it must be him…” Liao Zhiyuan cursed, his chest filled with unbearable pain, cold sweat instantly breaking out on his face. He was shaking like a leaf in the autumn wind, forced to lower himself and beg HuLü Yan for mercy.

“He placed a silencing spell on me. I can’t say his name, but if you want to know, I can find another way to tell you, okay? We have no grudge, right? I wouldn’t have come after you if it weren’t for his task. So, please, let me go; deal with him instead.”

HuLü Yan looked down at him from above, his expression cold and indifferent. “And how do you intend to tell me?”

Liao Zhiyuan thought about it with difficulty, answering haltingly, “After ten days, he’ll contact me again to get a detailed report on the mission. Today’s the first day, so in nine days, I’ll receive his message talisman.”

HuLü Yan raised an eyebrow.

Liao Zhiyuan looked up, staring intently at HuLü Yan’s pale face, desperately trying to find any resemblance to the Demon Lord Lin Chong. But he knew his efforts were futile—HuLü Yan had likely used a disguise artifact.

Giving up, he continued, “If you intercept his message, you might be able to figure out who he is.”

Hearing this, a faint smile tugged at HuLü Yan’s lips. “No wonder you’re the gang leader; you’re sharper than most.”

But Liao Zhiyuan didn’t feel comforted by the compliment. His cultivation level had dropped from Nascent Soul to Golden Core, and if this kept up, all his decades of hard work would amount to nothing.

“Can…can you let me go now?” Liao Zhiyuan asked weakly.

HuLü Yan smiled. “No.”

Liao Zhiyuan: “…”

“If you had acted against me first yesterday, I might have spared you. But…” HuLü Yan dragged out his words, the smile on his lips growing wider but not reaching his eyes.

He bent down, his voice cold as he whispered in Liao Zhiyuan’s ear, “You went after the one person you shouldn’t have.”

Liao Zhiyuan’s lips trembled, his eyes filled with abject fear as he looked at HuLü Yan.

“Just thinking about what you dared to do to him makes me not want to kill you so quickly.” The hand gripping his heart squeezed tighter, as though slowly pulling it out.

Ordinary people would die instantly from this kind of attack, but for a cultivator, it only meant very real, excruciating pain. Right now, waves of agony crashed over Liao Zhiyuan, like a mountain pressing down, making his vision black out repeatedly as he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness.

Yet the pain continued, not stopping even in response to his screams, but grinding into his wounds with a blunt knife, pressing harder each time.

He’d never dreamed he’d be pushed to this point by a brat.

He was a Nascent Soul cultivator! Why couldn’t he muster a shred of strength in front of HuLü Yan? What kind of monster was HuLü Yan to possess such terrifying power?

At that moment, Liao Zhiyuan finally believed the rumors that HuLü Yan had single-handedly wiped out the entire Medical Hall. If this went on, he would be the next Ming De Yi.

Under the weight of overwhelming terror, Liao Zhiyuan made a swift decision. He gritted his teeth, forcing out his remaining spiritual energy to break through the binding.

Breaking through the silencing spell triggered a backlash. Blood streamed from his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose. In no time, he was covered in blood, barely breathing—a pitiful sacrifice for his life.

“If I tell you his name, will you let me go?” Liao Zhiyuan, already on his last breath, gasped out, “He is…”

But he stopped mid-sentence.

His head began to swell and distort, like a balloon being inflated. His eyes widened, and a piercing scream involuntarily escaped his throat.

Yan Wen’s servant, watching in horror, felt a sense of dread. “Young Master HuLü…”

Before he could finish, HuLü Yan grabbed his collar, dragging him back with lightning speed.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye.

The two reached the entrance of the hall just as Liao Zhiyuan’s head exploded with a loud bang, blood splattering everywhere like a burst sugar figurine, leaving behind a lifeless body kneeling on the ground with a gaping hole in its chest.

Liao Zhiyuan was dead.

The servant stared blankly at the bloody scene, snapping out of it only when the nauseating stench filled his nose. He turned, noticing that the hand HuLü Yan had used to pull him back was the same one that had taken Liao Zhiyuan’s heart.

It was soaked in blood, droplets still dripping down.

Servant: “…”

He didn’t need to look to know what a mess his collar had become.

Ignoring the blood-soaked room, HuLü Yan stepped inside and approached Liao Zhiyuan’s corpse. The servant, clenching his teeth, reluctantly followed. “Young Master HuLü, what are you looking for?”

HuLü Yan slipped his fingers into Liao Zhiyuan’s mangled throat, feeling around until he extracted a small square of folded yellow paper.

The servant’s face changed. “It looks like a talisman!”

HuLü Yan stood, handing the blood-stained paper to the servant. “Open it.”

Swallowing, the servant held back his disgust, wiping away the blood before carefully unfolding it.

Sure enough, it was a talisman.

The black ink swirled across the paper in elegant, intricate patterns.

Holding the talisman by its ends, the servant examined it and muttered, “It’s a silencing spell. If I’m not mistaken, only the Four Great Families of the righteous faction use this type.”

HuLü Yan’s gaze dropped to the talisman. “The Four Great Families…”

“Yes, they’re the HuLü family, the Situ family, the Wenren family, and the Mi family.” The servant quickly added, “But Mi He Feng, the head of the Mi family, is known to be a just man. He would never stoop to such dark arts.”

HuLü Yan remained silent for a long time before abruptly turning to leave.

The servant tucked away the talisman and followed him out.

Outside, the open space was empty—everyone had scattered when HuLü Yan started killing.

HuLü Yan stopped at the center of the courtyard.

It was a large, square-shaped space in the heart of Wu Wang Gang’s headquarters. Each corner had a massive stone pillar, carved with dragons so lifelike they seemed ready to soar.

HuLü Yan stood under the golden light of late spring, his dark hair tinged with a faint gold.

Though bathed in sunlight, his eyes remained cold, as if a transparent barrier cut him off from the world around him.

“Notify the others,” he instructed the servant calmly. “From this moment on, Wu Wang Gang is under new management. They have two choices: return or die outside.”

The servant froze in shock. “Y-Young Master HuLü… Are you planning to become the leader of Wu Wang Gang?”

HuLü Yan glanced at him. “Go.”

The servant shivered, not daring to argue further, and hurried off.

•

Mi Lu woke to find the sky already nearing dusk. His head felt heavy, and he sat dazed on the bed for a long time before the details of last night came flooding back.

They hadn’t actually done everything.

But to Mi Lu, it was as good as the whole deal. He’d only meant to use his hands, but somehow he’d ended up using his legs too.

When he tried to get up, his legs wobbled, and the overused area from last night still throbbed with a dull ache.

Sucking in a breath, Mi Lu grimaced, taking a moment to steady himself before casting a Cleansing Technique on himself.

Stepping outside, he immediately saw Yang Rong and some of the other girls huddled together, whispering. Noticing him, Yang Rong turned, beaming, “Young Master is finally awake.”

Mi Lu mumbled a response, avoiding eye contact.

Yang Rong didn’t seem to notice, laughing as she approached him. “Young Master, you sure slept late today; it’s almost time for dinner.”

Mi Lu: “…”

In the next moment, his face turned beet red.

Back when he was gravely ill, it was normal for him to lie in bed all day and only get up around this time. But now he wasn’t bedridden because he was sick… it was because…

Remembering why he woke so late, Mi Lu felt mortified, his hands and feet unsure of where to go as he wished he could disappear.

But he knew that wasn’t possible, so he had to muster up the courage to face Yang Rong.

“I was really tired. I only slept at dawn, so I accidentally slept in,” he said awkwardly, forcing a smile.

He wasn’t good at lying, and his face flushed red whenever he did.

Yang Rong, unaware of the real reason, only chuckled. “Young Master, my foster father rushed back overnight. Would you like to see him?”

Mi Lu looked surprised. “So soon?”

“Yes,” Yang Rong sighed. “He came back for his daughter’s matter, so he’s been busy. I mentioned your issue to him, and he does know where Zhai Feng is. If you’re ready, he can take you to find her immediately.”

“Really? That’s great!” Mi Lu beamed.

Then, realizing something, he looked around. “Do you know where HuLü Yan went?”

“He went out and hasn’t returned. I think he went to settle things with Wu Wang Gang.”

Hearing this, Mi Lu silently spared a moment of sympathy for Wu Wang Gang.

Yang Rong asked, “Young Master, shall we go meet my foster father?”

Mi Lu nodded. “Lead the way.”

Yang Rong guided him out of the courtyard, through winding corridors, and into a teleportation array. After a short walk, they reached the courtyard of Star Moon Pavilion’s master, Yan Fu.

The courtyard appeared similar to Yang Rong’s, even the pond outside was identical. But as soon as they entered, Mi Lu realized it was an illusion; the inside was much larger, almost like stepping into another world.

He could hear the sound of rushing water.

In front of him was a waterfall, and miraculously, when he followed Yang Rong through it, his clothes remained completely dry.

Beyond the waterfall lay a scene of serene mountains, a bamboo grove rustling in the wind, interspersed with the calls of cuckoo birds.

Yang Rong turned to explain, “My foster father’s place uses an array similar to the one in Tai Sheng Sect. It creates an illusion, making you feel like you’ve entered a new area.”

Mi Lu nodded, impressed. “It’s a great place to hide.”

Yang Rong beamed, “Isn’t it?”

They walked all the way to the second floor, stopping outside a door.

Yang Rong knocked. “Foster Father, Young Master Mi Lu is here.”

A middle-aged man’s voice called from inside, “Let him in.”

Yang Rong opened the door, gesturing for Mi Lu to enter.

Mi Lu nodded his thanks and quietly stepped in, finding a minimalistic training room with a low table and a few scattered bookshelves.

At the table sat a square-faced, middle-aged man in meditation.

This was Yan Fu, master of Star Moon Pavilion.

Yan Fu poured Mi Lu a cup of tea, gently pushing it towards the other side of the table. “Please, have a seat.”

Mi Lu, feeling a bit nervous, took a seat across from Yan Fu. “Thank you for all the trouble you’ve gone through for us. If there’s anything we can do in return, please just say the word.”

“You’re too polite.” Yan Fu waved it off. “My help wasn’t entirely selfless.”

Mi Lu blinked, confused. “Then…?”

Yan Fu didn’t answer directly, instead changing the topic. “Has HuLü Yan returned from Wu Wang Gang?”

Mi Lu swallowed back the question on his mind, sensing that Yan Fu didn’t want to say more. “Not yet.”

Yan Fu took a sip of tea, setting the cup down as he continued, “Have you heard of Wu Wang Gang?”

Mi Lu thought for a moment before answering, “I vaguely remember it from when I was younger. I heard Wu Wang Gang was originally created by the Demon Lord Lin Chong, a hired assassin’s guild willing to take on any job, no matter right or wrong. Under Lin Chong’s leadership, it grew powerful enough to become a thorn in the side of the righteous factions.”

Yan Fu nodded. “And then?”

Mi Lu paused, then shook his head. “As you know, I only heard a little; the rest I don’t know.”

Yan Fu smiled and continued, “Later, Lin Chong fell in love with the daughter of a righteous faction sect leader. Shortly after they eloped, her family used a soul lantern to bring her back, confining her in a mountain array. Lin Chong gave Wu Wang Gang to someone else to search for her. But since then, Wu Wang Gang has never regained its former glory.”

Mi Lu furrowed his brows, sensing that there was more Yan Fu wanted to say. “What happened to Lin Chong and his lover?”

Yan Fu, clearly impressed by Mi Lu’s quick wit, replied, “After their separation, she became pregnant. To shield her child from family consequences, she quietly entrusted him to a farmer’s family in the valley below.”

Mi Lu’s expression grew solemn.

“Lin Chong spent the next ten years separated from her. The righteous factions even came personally to capture him, and to calm the tensions, he went with them.” Yan Fu recalled. “Shortly after, news spread that Lin Chong had perished in a conflict with the righteous factions, alongside that woman. Fortunately, their child grew up safely, raised by the farmer’s family.”

Mi Lu remained silent, waiting patiently for Yan Fu to continue.

After a pause, Yan Fu continued, “Yet their child couldn’t escape the cycle of fate. He had a son of his own, inheriting his parents’ talents. Though from a poor family, his talent was extraordinary, eventually drawing the attention of a rogue cultivator. Soon after, he met and fell in love with HuLü Wan, the eldest daughter of the HuLü family.”

“HuLü Wan?” Mi Lu gasped.

“Yes, HuLü Wan.” Yan Fu sighed. “No one could have predicted that she, the first heir of the HuLü family, would fall in love with someone from such a humble background.”

Mi Lu opened his mouth but couldn’t find the words.

He was stunned, utterly unable to believe that there was such a connection between the righteous and demonic factions or that the legendary HuLü Wan had fallen for Lin Chong’s son.

This… this was unbelievable.

Yan Fu cast a sidelong glance at Mi Lu. “They not only fell in love but repeated Lin Chong’s path—they secretly had a son.”

“A son…” Mi Lu murmured.

And in that instant, a realization dawned on him, sending a chill down his spine, his palms breaking out in cold sweat.

His eyes widened, and he stared at Yan Fu for a long moment before finally managing to whisper, “Master Yan, was their son…?”

Yan Fu knew who he meant and nodded gently, turning his gaze toward the door as if looking at someone beyond. “It’s him.”

“…”

“Fate is a circle, always returning to its starting point.” Yan Fu smiled. “Heaven has its reasons for this arrangement, wouldn’t you agree?”

For the first time, Mi Lu felt the bite of cold fear, as if an icy wind had blown into his heart, leaving him chilled to the bone.

He had never known any of this.

Neither his reading of the original novel before he entered it nor his ten reincarnations alongside HuLü Yan had brought him any closer to HuLü Yan’s past.

All this time, he’d assumed HuLü Yan was an illegitimate child of HuLü Xing, and the woman in his dreams was just another poor soul discarded by HuLü Xing.

He’d never expected…

That that occasionally lucid, occasionally madwoman was HuLü Wan—the once-beloved, worshipped daughter of the HuLü family.

In the original story, the narrative had tortured both the readers and HuLü Yan to no end. He could have never predicted that the story would go to such cruel lengths, heaping upon HuLü Yan layers of absurd and tragic backstory.

For the author, torturing the protagonist may have been a way to ultimately reward him, a strategy to spark righteous anger in readers. But here, in the story itself, those choices were like heavy stones, weighing down HuLü Yan as he struggled forward in this harsh world.

Mi Lu stared blankly at Yan Fu, feeling a strange wetness on his face.

He raised a hand to his cheek, touching his tears.

After a moment, Yan Fu broke the silence. “This is his fate.”

Then Yan Fu rose, his expression returning to calm as he looked toward the door.

Sensing something, Mi Lu also rose and turned, following Yan Fu’s gaze.

HuLü Yan had arrived, striding in with a dark look and a strong scent of blood.

“HuLü…” Mi Lu started to speak, but HuLü Yan grabbed his arm, pulling him protectively behind him.

HuLü Yan was much taller than Mi Lu, effectively blocking his view. All Mi Lu could hear was Yan Fu’s amused voice, “Relax, Young Master Mi. Star Moon Pavilion always ensures the safety of its guests.”

HuLü Yan, his back to Mi Lu, spoke in a low, cold voice. “Bring out Zhai Feng.”

The request left both Mi Lu and Yan Fu momentarily stunned. Yan Fu soon burst into laughter, “As expected, you’re sharper than I anticipated.”

HuLü Yan simply stared back, his face unreadable.

Chuckling, Yan Fu cleared his throat. “Very well. You’ve hidden long enough; time to come out.”