"What your father did... the world might call it foolish. But to guard a pot of horse-bone soup for the wounded... he was a wise man."

  Gensheng paused, his gaze falling on the half-piece of wheat cake. "Pity is universal. Because your father had it, he could sacrifice himself for others. I see many cultivators seeking immortality, but few possess the mercy of that mortal man."

  Li Simin’s eyes reddened. A spark jumped from the campfire with a sharp crack.

  "Senior Brother," she whispered. "I actually know... that you aren't human."

  Gensheng’s hand froze mid-air, just as he was reaching for the wheat cake.

  "My cultivation is low, but my constitution is special. My eyes see things differently. Higher cultivators might not notice, but I know... you are an insect."

  The night wind howled. The fire crackled softly. Gensheng slowly lowered his hand, his entire aura shifting into something cold, yet strangely humble.

  "Yes," he nodded. "I am a cockroach."

  "Everything has its place and its use," he continued, looking at her with a complex light in his eyes. "You said sharing food makes us comrades. Though I am a bug, I have learned from you what it means to have a human heart."

  Li Simin shook her head gently. "Insect or human, as long as there is kindness, it is good. My father always said the rarest thing isn't power, but a pure heart."

  Gensheng picked up the wheat cake. "I have been taught."

  The next five days were peaceful. Li Simin was visibly lighter in spirit, her pace quickening. When they crested the last ridge, the view opened up. Below lay a small, serene town nestled in a valley. Kitchen smoke drifted into the azure sky. A clear river circled the town, and the laughter of women washing clothes echoed from afar.

  At the eastern edge, a small yard fenced with wicker was Li Simin’s home.

  As they entered the town, the locals greeted her with warm, rustic smiles. When they reached the house, Li Simin pushed open the door and called out, "Father!"

  A gaunt man hobbled out. His left pant leg was empty, swaying in the breeze. His clouded eyes lit up at the sight of his daughter, then clouded again with awe and reverence when he saw Gensheng behind her. He struggled to kneel, but Gensheng stepped forward and caught him with a single hand.

  The man was exactly as she had described—an ordinary mortal, his life nearly spent, bearing the scars of labor and war.

  Li Simin solemnly produced a small wooden token—the mission proof, etched with a crude bird in charcoal—and handed it to Gensheng. He took it, gave the man a short nod, and turned to leave. He didn't look back.

  The mountain path was the same. Two came; only one returned.

  As he crossed the ridge, ready to use his movement techniques to rush back to the sect, he stopped. In the distance, a grey-blue cloud was drifting against the wind toward Yuexi Town.

  Gensheng squinted. His human eyes were sharp. Butterflies. Thousands of them, grey-blue and patternless, flying in a rigid, mechanical formation.

  Gensheng turned back toward Maple Red Valley. None of my business. The mission was done. Whether Li Simin lived or died wouldn't change his three hundred spirit stones.

  He took three steps. Then, his legs refused to move.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  "My father said, if you can share a food... we are comrades." "Senior Brother, you are just hungry."

  This human body is a nuisance, Gensheng thought. He had climbed from the dirt by devouring and plundering. Since when did he become so indecisive?

  "The barrier in the heart..."

  Li Simin’s father couldn't cross it, so he guarded a pot of soup and had his leg broken. Li Simin couldn't cross it, so she exhausted her Qi to bring rain to strangers.

  Now, it was Chen Gensheng’s turn to face the barrier.

  He looked back. The grey-blue cloud had already descended upon the town.

  Three hundred spirit stones. Li Simin is the proof of the mission. If she dies, the sect might investigate, and I might not get paid.

  Yes. That's it. Once he framed it as a loss of profit, the irritation in his chest eased. He broke into a sprint back toward the town.

  Yuexi Town was silent. The laughter was gone. The smoke had vanished.

  The entire town was covered in a layer of grey-blue powder, thick as ash on the roofs and streets. It looked like a grey snowfall. A few surviving butterflies fluttered feebly before dropping into the dust.

  The residents were frozen in their final moments—sitting at doorways, lying in rocking chairs, holding rice bowls. But their flesh and bone had turned to powder. A gust of wind blew, and their silhouettes scattered into the air.

  At Li Simin’s yard, the fence was down. The door was wide open. Gensheng burst inside.

  Li Simin’s father was leaning against the doorframe, a peaceful statue of grey-blue ash. Inside the house, a faint sound echoed. Gensheng smashed through the inner door.

  A beautiful girl stood in the center of the room. Her white dress was spotless, an insult to the grey decay around her. The Shadowfire Butterfly.

  She was holding Li Simin by the throat. The girl’s face was covered in blood; her eyes were nothing but two red, empty sockets. She had fainted.

  The Butterfly turned her cold gaze toward him. "I wondered who it was. Just the loathsome cockroach."

  She dropped Li Simin like a rag doll and held up two eyeballs, examining them. "The Void-Observing Eyes. They see through illusions and perceive the source. To think such a talent was wasted on a mortal."

  Gensheng stared at Li Simin. Her chest moved feebly. She was dying.

  "Why?"

  "I’m doing her a favor. These eyes are useless on her. In my hands, they will realize their true value." She sneered. "Some geniuses are born fools—like you, cockroach. You have six hands, yet you choose to be a human's dog. I take what is wasted."

  She walked to the window. "Tell me... did she treat you well? Did she actually think you were human? Did you feel grateful for half a piece of bread? She was just afraid of you, bug. Afraid you’d tear off your mask and eat her. Her kind words were just pleas for mercy."

  "You’re wrong," Gensheng said.

  The Butterfly laughed. "Did I hit a nerve? No matter how you mimic them, you’re still a lowly pest."

  Beneath Gensheng’s sleeves, four smaller arms slid out. Six hands, spread wide.

  In each palm lay a talisman—the Fire Talismans Li Simin gave him, and the ones he stole from the dead Outer disciples.

  Without a pause, six bursts of fire exploded simultaneously.

  The Butterfly’s form blurred as she tried to retreat, clutching the eyes to her chest. Her white dress disintegrated into ash, revealing skin scorched with blackened scars. She stumbled against the wall, blood trickling from her mouth.

  Gensheng let out a dry laugh. "So, you aren't invincible. I’ll guess... you aren't a Golden Core. You probably aren't even at Foundation Establishment yet."

  He stepped forward. "That human skin cost you all your power, didn't it? You slaughtered this town not for the eyes, but for the life essence you needed to stabilize your new form. Am I right?"

  "You—!"

  "This cockroach is going to eat you now."

  Gensheng opened his mouth. A dozen Corpse-Barrier Wasps swarmed out, diving for her face. The Butterfly shrieked, clapping her hands to release a cloud of toxic blue dust. The leading wasps dropped, dead.

  Gensheng felt a pang of loss, then pulled a Gale Talisman from his bag. A localized tornado ripped through the room, blowing the toxic dust back into her own face. She choked, covered in her own filth.

  The surviving wasps dove in again. With a look of desperation, the Butterfly ignored the insects and fixed her gaze on Gensheng. She opened her mouth and spat a glob of death-white Primal Shadowfire.

  Gensheng jerked aside, but he was a fraction too slow.

  Sizzle.

  His thickest right arm was severed clean at the shoulder. No blood flowed; the flesh vanished into nothingness under the white flame. The pain hit a second later—a white-hot agony. He staggered back, clutching the smooth, smoldering wound.

  The Butterfly collapsed, drained of every ounce of strength. "How does my fire taste? You pest... now..."

  She never finished. The remaining eight wasps swarmed her. They crawled into her sockets, her nostrils, her mouth.

  Her thrashing grew weak, then stopped.

  Two bloated wasps flew out, carrying the Void-Observing Eyes and dropping them into Gensheng’s palm. He tucked the eyes away, picked up the unconscious, bleeding Li Simin, and left the silent town without looking back.