“Don’t worry, Auntie,” Zhi Xuan said calmly and smiled warmly, a rare smile for himself. “I will take good care of Mei Hua; I consider her my own little sister. I will safely bring her back when the Thousand Heavens Sect selection begins.”

  That smile, although brief, radiated a warmth that contrasted with the cold and terrifying aura he had just acquired.

  The smile was a manifestation of the victory he had just achieved in his sea of consciousness: the acknowledgment of the importance of mortal bonds. Aunt Lin was stunned for a moment. She was used to Zhi Xuan’s icy calmness, not a nearly melting tenderness like this.

  “Young Master…” Aunt Lin clutched the five Mid-Grade Spiritual Stones in her hands, objects that now felt heavy and filled with the meaning of sacrifice. “I know you are not an ordinary person. Take care of yourself, child. And take care of Mei Hua. She... she is a fragile girl, though strange.”

  Zhi Xuan nodded once, his eyes looking at Aunt Lin with deep respect. Aunt Lin’s mortal virtue was the purest thing he had encountered in the treacherous cultivation world. He had given the woman fair compensation for her hard work and kindness.

  Mei Hua, who was now hugging the roll of Shimmering Cloud Silk, seemed to sense that the conversation was over. She stepped closer to Zhi Xuan, grasping the edge of Zhi Xuan's torn robe with her small fingers.

  "Big Brother Zhi Xuan," Mei Hua whispered, her eyes shining. "Where are we going? Are we going to a place with many stars?"

  Zhi Xuan knelt again, ignoring the pain from the wound in his waist. He looked into Mei Hua's clear eyes.

  "We are going to a place full of heavenly energy, Mei Hua. There, we will cultivate so Big Brother becomes strong. We will see many things. And maybe, there are fallen stars that we can use as new toys for Lulu," Zhi Xuan said, his tone gentle, crafting words from a long-buried childhood imagination.

  Mei Hua chuckled softly, a laugh like a wind chime. "Yay! Let's go, Big Brother Zhi Xuan! Lulu wants to see fallen stars too!"

  Zhi Xuan stood up. He gave Aunt Lin one last comforting look. Aunt Lin, with tears welling up, nodded resignedly. She knew that Zhi Xuan and Mei Hua's fate was no longer in her hands, but in the hands of Heavenly Destiny.

  Zhi Xuan held Mei Hua with his left hand, allowing the girl to hold his wrist. His tall body now radiated the cold aura of the Blood Transformation Eclipse Phase, forming an invisible shield around the little girl, suppressing the smell of blood that still clung to his robe.

  They began to walk, leaving the Wind Silk Market. Zhi Xuan's pace, which had been swift and efficient, now slowed, adjusting to Mei Hua's small steps. The contrast was striking: The Herald of Devil, the controlled killing machine, moved slowly, his hand held by a girl whose soul was pure.

  However, after only a few steps, Zhi Xuan was intercepted by a group of Blood Transformation cultivators and some from the First Ember realm. At the intersection separating the bustling Wind Silk Market from the main road leading to the city gate, a group of seven cultivators appeared, blocking the way.

  They wore dull gray robes, an old wolf emblem pinned to their shoulders—the mark of a small sect operating as thugs in the Lower District. They radiated varying auras, from the weakest, mid-stage First Ember, to the strongest, late-stage Blood Transformation. However, their intention was the same: filthy greed.

  The leader of the group was a burly man with a scarred face, his blood Essence thick and foul-smelling—clearly a late-stage Blood Transformation. His bloodthirsty eyes focused on Zhi Xuan, or more precisely, on the vibration of the Mid-Grade Spiritual Stones Zhi Xuan had just stored.

  "Look who we found," the burly man sneered, his voice rough like grinding stone. He spat foul saliva onto the stone road. "The Herald of Devil. We heard you just harvested significant wealth at the Devil's Bite Chain Arena, kid."

  Zhi Xuan stopped. Mei Hua’s small feet touched his boot. He did not respond to the sneer. His sapphire eyes, with the faint red ring, swept over the group. Absolute analysis filled his consciousness; seven opponents, their realms could be managed, but a fight here would attract bigger trouble.

  Mei Hua, sensing the sudden tension, lowered her head, hiding her face in the folds of Zhi Xuan's robe. She hugged Lulu tighter. The little girl was not afraid; she only felt confused by the filthy Essence.

  "You are covered in filthy blood, kid," the leader continued, grinning, showing yellowed teeth. "Your robe is stained with arena filth. We are the 'Road Filters' here. To pass this path, you must leave one-fifth of your harvest. It's the unwritten tax in Green Cloud City."

  In his sea of consciousness, the Devil Seed pulsed, sending a wave of cold pleasure, urging him to annihilate these seven immediately. It felt incredibly efficient and satisfying.

  However, Zhi Xuan ignored it. He felt the grip of Mei Hua's small hand on his wrist. That warmth was a constant reminder that he had to solve this problem with control, minimizing unnecessary chaos and bloodshed.

  "Oh, and look at this little girl," said one of the men in the First Ember realm. "You're holding a strange little girl who is even avoided by many people? You're truly brave."

  Those words, which directly attacked Mei Hua's purity, felt like an essence whip rousing a storm in Zhi Xuan's sea of consciousness. In an instant, the suppressed howling desire deep within his devil seed awoke. It was no longer an invitation to kill for satisfaction, but an instinctive command to protect.

  Zhi Xuan raised his head. His sapphire gaze, with a faint red ring subtly appearing, now seemed to burn, directed straight at the seven cultivators. His cold, controlled Eclipse phase aura, which he had been restraining, was suddenly released.

  The seven cultivators, who were accustomed to the threats of raw violence in the Lower District, suddenly felt as if they had stepped into frozen spiritual essence. The air around them felt heavy, as if every breath carried sharp fragments of cold steel.

  Their leader, the burly man, instinctively stumbled back a step. His thick Blood Transformation Essence felt frozen, difficult to circulate. He felt a deep horror—a horror only experienced when facing an opponent whose strength surpassed the logic of the realm.

  "You... you dare to fight the 'Road Filters'?" the leader snarled, trying to force his courage, but his voice trembled.

  "I am not fighting," Zhi Xuan replied, his voice soft, flat, and cold. The voice carried no tone of threat, but its resonance penetrated the bones of the cultivators. "But if you, who are merely Blood Transformation and First Ember, are not worthy to bark at me."

  The words, spoken without emotion, pierced the dignity of the seven cultivators deeper than a physical blow. They were cultivators stained with blood and sin; they understood the language of cruelty, and Zhi Xuan's language was cruelty stripped of passion.

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  The leader, whose face was now red with a combination of anger and fear, clenched his fist. "You... little brat! Your realm just broke through the Eclipse Phase, and you dare to look down on us? We are seven!"

  "Seven vessels of foul essence," Zhi Xuan cut in, his tone flat. "And I do not look down on numbers. I assess efficiency. Killing you here would waste time and attract unnecessary attention."

  Zhi Xuan slightly raised his left hand, allowing his wrist, which Mei Hua tightly held, to be seen. Mei Hua's pure warmth was the boundary he set. He would not let a brutal scene corrupt the little girl's innocence.

  "In three breaths," Zhi Xuan said with cold menace. A thread of blood-red essence protruded from his raised hand; it was the devil blood sword manifested in thread form. "Retreat and get out of my sight."

  The blood-red essence thread, thin as silk, but radiating an aura of sharpness that surpassed heavenly steel, danced in the air. It was a terrifying demonstration of power and control: the Blood Devil Sword, his brutal harvesting weapon, now transformed into a warning thread.

  The seven cultivators froze. They did not see brute force; they saw essence control that required a mastery of the realm far higher than the Eclipse phase. The thread, pulsing with newly purified blood essence, felt like a rope tied around their necks.

  "One," Zhi Xuan counted, his voice as flat as newly carved jade. He did not move his eyes. However, Zhi Xuan tightened his grasp on Mei Hua's small hand. That warmth was harder than the path he pursued.

  The group leader, the late-stage Blood Transformation, felt shame and fear flooding him. He knew fighting this youth was suicide. The cold aura was too deadly. However, retreating in front of his subordinates meant losing all the dignity he had gathered.

  "Don't be stupid, kid!" the leader yelled, forcing his blood Essence to flow, trying to counteract the deadly pressure. "You can't kill all of us here! The City Gate will respond! You will attract the City Guards' attention!"

  "Two," Zhi Xuan cut in, ignoring the threat. He knew the threat of the City Guards was why he wanted to avoid bloodshed.

  The blood-red thread spun slightly, and the air around it hissed, as if the temperature had dropped drastically. The leader's six subordinates began to tremble; some of them had reached their psychological limit. They were thugs, not true battlefield veterans.

  Mei Hua, who was huddled in Zhi Xuan's robe, suddenly raised her head slightly. She did not see the blood thread, but she sensed the foul intent surrounding her. The little girl frowned, and then, with a strange and unnatural movement, she extended her small right hand toward the cultivators.

  She did not launch an attack; she merely allowed her absolute silence and innocence to spread. There was no spiritual essence fluctuation, but the seven cultivators felt a soul-piercing cold wave, far purer and more terrifying than Zhi Xuan's aura.

  "Those threads are dirty," Mei Hua whispered, her voice very soft, almost a moan. "Lulu doesn't like the dirty smell."

  The leader's face turned as pale as a shroud. He was not only challenged by Zhi Xuan, but he was also judged by a little girl who did not emit any Essence at all. He felt the filthiness of his Essence exposed by an inexplicable innocence.

  "Three," Zhi Xuan said, his voice now carrying a non-negotiable finality. The moment the word was spoken, the leader made a swift decision. Dignity was cheaper than life.

  "Retreat!" the leader roared, his tone filled with shame and defeat. He abruptly turned his body, kicking the stone road, and sped away without looking back.

  The remaining six cultivators, already on the verge of hysteria, did not need to be told twice. They sped after their leader, disappearing into the maze of the Eastern Lower District streets, leaving the smell of foul Essence and greed behind them.

  Zhi Xuan's blood-red thread pulsed once more, then dissolved back into his hand. He did not chase them; he did not waste time. Victory with control and without bloodshed was the most absolute efficiency.

  Zhi Xuan let out a long, cold breath, his body relaxing. He did not kneel, but he bent forward slightly, looking at Mei Hua.

  "Mei Hua, you..."

  Mei Hua looked at Zhi Xuan with clear eyes, as if nothing had happened. "Big Brother Zhi Xuan, can we go now? Lulu said she wants new clothes."

  Mei Hua's innocence was the perfect cover for the spiritual chaos that had just occurred. Zhi Xuan shook his head slightly, a faint, satisfied smile appearing on his lips.

  "Yes, Mei Hua. We can go now," Zhi Xuan replied.

  He stood up, holding Mei Hua's hand tighter. They continued their journey, crossing the intersection that had just been a silent battlefield. Zhi Xuan's cold, deadly aura now served as a perfect barrier. No other cultivator dared to look at him, let alone block his path.

  Zhi Xuan continued his stride, every step steady, leaving the smell of foul Essence and greed behind them. Mei Hua, whose small hand felt warm and light on Zhi Xuan's wrist, seemed to sigh in relief. She hugged Lulu, gazing at the roll of Shimmering Cloud Silk she held with sparkling eyes.

  They walked toward the Qinglong District, the area where the grandeur of Green Cloud City began to intersect with the shadows of the underworld. The district was named after the Azure Dragon Staircase, a bright, winding path of stairs, shrouded in a thin spiritual mist, which was said to lead to the sects atop the mountains.

  The change in scenery felt like Zhi Xuan was crossing a spiritual realm. From the dirty, blood-smelling stone streets, they entered cleaner, wider roads.

  The buildings in the Qinglong District soared high, adorned with jade dragon carvings that radiated a light spiritual essence aura. This was the place where wealthier and more powerful cultivators operated.

  Mei Hua, stunned by this sudden splendor, raised her head. "Big Brother Zhi Xuan, look! There's a sleeping dragon!" she exclaimed, pointing to a giant dragon statue coiled around a stone pillar.

  Zhi Xuan only gave a faint smile in response, his gaze searching for the artifact weapons shop he had heard of earlier, whose owner was named Old Man Dun, a figure rumored to sell forbidden weapon artifacts and some competent technique scrolls.

  The shop, named "Gate of Ten Thousand Weapons," was not easy to find amidst the luxury of the Qinglong District. It was located in a narrow alley that split two magnificent auction houses, as if deliberately hidden from overly naive eyes.

  The shop sign was made of pitch-black wood, crudely carved with the image of a broken sword blade, emitting no spiritual essence aura at all, but containing a cold, ancient vibration.

  "There," Zhi Xuan whispered, his eyes narrowing as he saw the hidden aura. Although the shop looked inconspicuous, Zhi Xuan sensed an aura of emptiness around it, a sign that the owner had used a profound concealment technique.

  Zhi Xuan pulled Mei Hua into the narrow alley. The smell of incense and hot iron, not stale liquor, greeted them. Inside, the Gate of Ten Thousand Weapons was an organized chaos. Tall wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with weapons of all shapes and ages.

  Rusted swords, axes smeared with essence, and several artifacts that emitted a faint spiritual light. The spiritual energy inside the shop was chaotic and heavy, as if every artifact held its own story of bloodshed.

  Zhi Xuan stepped inside; the hustle and unfamiliar facial expressions filled his view. It was a sight of what looked like young geniuses, their auras in the Transformation realm, their robes indicating they were from wealthy families and supporting clans.

  Amidst the dust-shrouded chaos and battle essence, Zhi Xuan saw at least three groups of young cultivators. They were all in the Transformation realm—Blood Transformation, Organ Transformation, even one or two who radiated a much more stable Organ Transformation aura.

  They were Hidden Dragons and Crouching Tigers from various parts of the southern continent, gathered to prepare for the Thousand Heavens Sect Selection that promised heavenly destiny. Bringing their fate to the central continent of the Xingluo Plains.

  Zhi Xuan did not waste time observing the crowd. His stiff yet steady footsteps, dragging Mei Hua, carried him across the creaking wooden floor. He did not radiate an aura of arrogance, but the cold aura he brought from the Devil's Bite Chain Arena, coupled with his torn, blood-stained robe, immediately drew attention.

  A brief silence fell over the center of the shop. The young geniuses who had been busy bargaining for an ancient sword blade now shifted their gaze. Their eyes were filled with curiosity, assessment, and a hint of disdain.

  "A Blood Transformation Eclipse Phase aura?" muttered a slender youth wearing a sky-blue silk robe, embroidered with floating clouds—the mark of the Blue Cloud Clan, an influential clan. "In the advanced Blood Transformation realm, but his robe... Good heavens, which sewer did he just crawl out of?"

  The youth, who radiated a stable early-stage Organ Transformation aura, glanced at Zhi Xuan with a scornful look. He ignored Mei Hua, who was hiding behind Zhi Xuan, hugging Lulu.

  Zhi Xuan ignored the mockery. He only looked toward the counter, where a small, thin old man, Old Man Dun, was rubbing a seemingly worn jade artifact. The old man radiated a calm aura, but his Spiritual Essence felt so deep and immeasurable, as if he were a bottomless pit—a sign of a high-realm Cultivator concealing his power.

  "The Gate of Ten Thousand Weapons doesn't sell trash," the Blue Cloud Clan youth replied, his voice slightly raised so his companions could hear. "Only Hidden Dragons come here to complete their techniques. You... go to a shabby merchant in the Lower District."