But Xiao Xueman understood very clearly: with a son like Xiao Wan, an unusual path of cultivation wasn’t a surprise—it was to be expected. As a father, he couldn’t change that fact, but at the very least, he could protect him with everything he had.

What he didn’t expect was that little Xiao Wan thought the same way.

A few days later, the first grade held its term-end report meeting. Only after this meeting did the semester officially end and the break begin.

Xiao Xueman sat in the audience, watching his little boy give the representative speech for the first-grade class. Xiao Wan’s voice was calm and steady, but his eyes kept sneaking glances in his daddy’s direction.

No matter how mature he acted, at the end of the day, he was still just a kid.

Back when he first decided to raise this child, Xiao Xueman had been hesitant, his mind filled with countless worries. In the end, he cast them all aside and followed his heart. And now, not even once did he regret his choice to raise Xiao Wan himself.

As for the troubles that followed—well, a father had a duty to handle them. If something as small as going to Sixteenth Heaven couldn’t be allowed just because of the risks, then what kind of failure of a father would he be? With that in mind, he had no regrets about agreeing to it on the spot.

After the meeting, Xiao Xueman carried his son home. As usual, he passed by the market and bought some of Xiao Wan’s favorite veggies. But on the way back, he noticed the road by the bulletin board was packed—so crowded it completely blocked the path.

Xiao Xueman wasn’t the kind to poke his nose into gossip, but walking past, he inevitably picked up some chatter.

“Another big shot ran off to hide here, huh?”

“Look at that bounty—tsk! Too bad people like us have no luck.”

“A tiger fallen to the plains… kinda pitiful, actually.”

Xiao Wan heard it too. He asked in a small voice, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing. Doesn’t concern us,” Xiao Xueman didn’t even look back. “We’re almost home.”

“Okay,” Xiao Wan answered quietly and didn’t press further.

Just from those few snippets, Xiao Xueman already had some guesses.

On the Spirit Realm Continent, everyone dreamed of climbing upward. Beyond chasing status, the more talented cultivators had to move up as a necessity—people and environments had to match.

Take Seventeenth Heaven, for instance. If a child here broke through from the germination stage into a spiritual cultivator, and advanced to Tier 3, they’d be automatically moved up to Sixteenth Heaven. There was no choice in the matter. The spiritual environment here would be incompatible with their strength and would start damaging them.

Climbing upward was fine. Kids born in the Upper Realm wouldn’t be born with overwhelming power anyway. Weaker ones living up there just had an easier time growing. But coming down was a whole different issue.

It’s like—whether a small fish swims in a tank or a lake, the difference isn’t huge. But try forcing a whale into a fish tank? That’s fatal.

This basic rule existed to limit the strong and protect the weak, and it was one of the key reasons the Spirit Realm Continent could maintain peace.

Because of the wide power gap between heavens, if not for this rule, folks from the Upper Realm could come down and trample the Lower Realm without effort—enslaving or slaughtering everyone with a flick of the wrist. It was this rule that kept such imbalance in check.

The lower you go, the more strictly this rule applies. Past the Sixth Heaven, though, into the Upper Realm, it’s almost useless.

As the lowest layer of the continent, Seventeenth Heaven had spiritual power so thin that anyone strong from the upper realms would be heavily suppressed. Their strength would be forcibly reduced, and just being here could make them physically uncomfortable—or even suffer spiritual backlash. The higher their cultivation level, the worse it got. Most tracking spiritual artifacts also failed to function here.

Because simply put—there just wasn’t enough spiritual power to go around.

So some people who couldn’t survive in the upper realms would flee here. Maybe they’d offended someone too powerful, maybe they were carrying a blood debt and running from pursuers. Seventeenth Heaven became a last refuge—a place to disappear. Among so many people, these fugitives became a single drop in the sea.

Most hoped to hide for a while, endure the suppression, and maybe one day sneak back to the upper realms. But truthfully? The majority died here, never seeing that day.

Escaping to Seventeenth Heaven just bought them a few more years, at best.

Xiao Xueman knew all this well. He hadn’t come to Seventeenth Heaven on a whim. He came here because of that rule—for himself, and for Xiao Wan.

Different people had different circumstances. A rule like this could be poison for most—but for him and Xiao Wan, it was life-saving medicine.

Still, Xiao Xueman had his concerns. This wasn’t the time to explain everything to a child as young as Xiao Wan.

That bulletin board probably had another wanted notice posted. After all, anyone fleeing from the upper realms must’ve been carrying something valuable. Even injured, just a random item on them could be worth a fortune down here. Some desperate folks would even try corpse looting—maybe strike it rich from a dead man.

But let’s be real—when do “lucky strikes” ever land on regular people? Not getting caught in the crossfire was already a blessing.

Xiao Xueman had no interest in scavenging. He was satisfied just living quietly with his son. Didn’t care who got hunted down.

Back home, he steamed the meat and rice, but his mind was drifting elsewhere.

Sixteenth Heaven had denser spiritual power. He was worried Xiao Wan might have issues adapting there.

Thankfully, the school had considered this. The exchange trip was just one week long. That much time could still be managed. Still, Xiao Xueman figured he’d prepare something for him, just in case.

He already had a plan.

That night, once Xiao Wan had fallen asleep, Xiao Xueman quietly got out of bed.

Normally, no one ever noticed how light his steps were—he didn’t make a sound. He crouched at the very bottom of the cabinet and pulled out a set of night clothes. After changing quickly, he slipped out through the window.

Outside the city was a forest where hunters often went. But at night, the danger level skyrocketed. Almost no one ventured in after dark.

When Xiao Xueman came to Seventeenth Heaven, he brought nothing but his son. Whatever he needed now, he had to gather locally. The materials down here were mediocre—but still usable.

At night, he might run into Ghost Wolves. These spiritual beasts were pitch black, cunning and eerie, active only after dark. Most hunters avoided the forest at night because of them. Among the strongest spiritual beasts in Seventeenth Heaven, an adult Ghost Wolf could take on a Tier 3 spiritual cultivator and still be a problem. But their bones and fur were great for crafting.

Xiao Xueman planned to hunt a Ghost Wolf King, but his luck was a little off. After searching all night, the best he found was an older Ghost Wolf—close, but not quite a king.

Dawn was coming. Time was running out. No choice. Xiao Xueman dropped from the tree and drew the dagger from his waist.

The Ghost Wolf spotted him immediately. It had developed some intelligence. Hidden in the shadows, its orange-red eyes gleamed with contempt. It could tell the man before it was weak, his spiritual power practically nonexistent.

The wolf let out a low growl, almost mocking, and lunged. It fully expected to rip this guy’s chest open in a single strike—end the fight instantly.

And technically, it did end in one strike.

Because Xiao Xueman didn’t even move. He just flicked his dagger casually at the incoming beast. No spiritual power, no visible strength.

The Ghost Wolf froze mid-air—and then collapsed with a thud.

“Xiao Wan’s about to wake up,” Xiao Xueman muttered. He knew his son liked to wake up early and study. “Gotta get back.”

Couldn’t let him find out.

He quickly extracted the spine he needed and didn’t waste the rest. He planned to sell the carcass and use the money as Xiao Wan’s allowance.

He wasn’t worried about Xiao Wan spending recklessly. Just thought, since they’d be visiting Sixteenth Heaven, and all the other kids there probably came from rich families, his kid shouldn’t fall behind.

Shops that bought crafting materials were open 24/7. Professional and discreet. They moved fast and didn’t ask questions. Xiao Xueman, dressed in black with a face covering, handed over the goods. The clerk didn’t speak a word or give him a second glance. The transaction was done before the tea cooled.

Everything seemed to be going smoothly. But on his way back, just as he was climbing back in through the window with the money pouch and the wolf’s spine in hand—he met eyes with his son.

“Daddy!” Xiao Wan’s eyes lit up. “You’re finally back!”

Xiao Xueman: “…”

What the heck? Xiao Wan’s schedule was always so regular—he shouldn’t be awake right now?!

Xiao Xueman froze, unsure what to say. But before he could come up with anything, Xiao Wan brought up something else entirely.

“Daddy, I think something—or someone—fell into the yard outside.”

It was the noise that had woken Xiao Wan. At first, he wasn’t scared. But realizing Daddy wasn’t in bed made him anxious, so he peeked out the window.

By the faint morning light, he saw someone lying unconscious under the vine-covered trellis—right next to his cradle swing. Xiao Wan remembered the “thud” he heard earlier. It really sounded like something had fallen from the sky, like a tossed-away rag doll, and hadn’t moved since. Probably fainted.

Luckily, before he could do anything, Xiao Xueman came back through the window. Xiao Wan immediately relaxed, holding up his arms to be picked up.