“This boat… Is it also damaged?” Zhi Xuan asked cautiously, turning briefly to Mei Hua who was looking cheerfully at the small boat. Zhi Xuan turned his gaze back to Old Man Dun. “I am bringing this little girl with me. If this boat is damaged, I want to exchange it.”

  The question carried a different resonance. It was not a question about fighting prowess, but about safety and responsibility. His words were a quiet public acknowledgment that Mei Hua’s safety was now an absolute priority, even in the presence of disparaging geniuses.

  Behind him, the Fire Phoenix girl, Feng Yi, sneered sharply, her voice filled with unchecked disdain.

  “A Lower District cultivator worrying about a mortal carriage? Hilarious! A flying boat is a disposable item in a pursuit! Don’t waste Old Man Dun’s time with your weakness!”

  Zhi Xuan ignored her. He simply waited for Old Man Dun’s answer.

  Old Man Dun, whose eyes narrowed into two thin slits, observed Mei Hua. The little girl, mesmerized by the carvings of wind and illusion formations on the surface of the dull silver boat, stretched out her tiny finger as if to touch the stars.

  “This boat is not damaged,” Old Man Dun said, slightly amused to hear Zhi Xuan asking whether a flying artifact was functional or not. “This is not an artifact from the past; it was recently sold to me by a Five Element cultivator.”

  Old Man Dun’s low, hoarse laugh echoed like the grating of iron stones being forged as a sword; the laugh was not mocking, but rather praising Zhi Xuan for being so careful and transparent when receiving an item.

  “You may name it the Seven Stars Boat,” Old Man Dun said, staring briefly at Mei Hua, his gaze deep and heavy. “And this little girl, you are truly daring to step over great cause-and-effect to bring her with you.”

  Zhi Xuan's face stiffened. He was not surprised that Old Man Dun knew the realm of the previous cultivator, but by the implication of his last words. Great cause-and-effect—that was a cultivation analogy only used to discuss Heavenly Destiny or Karma spanning thousands of years.

  “And you,” Old Man Dun continued, a faint smile not reaching his eyes. “I have heard your title, The Herald of Devil.”

  The words fell in the middle of the Gate of Ten Thousand Weapons shop like sudden Heavenly Thunder. Zhi Xuan's face froze in hard calmness. His sapphire eyes widened slightly—an almost imperceptible, but significant, shock for a cultivator who had just ensured the title was only circulated in the bloody pits of the Devil's Bite Chain Arena.

  The Gate of Ten Thousand Weapons was in the Qinglong District, far from the smell of stale liquor and the foul Essence of the Eastern Lower District. If Old Man Dun—this immeasurable hidden cultivator—knew his title, it meant The Herald of Devil was not just a whisper among arena thugs. It was an acknowledgment from the upper echelon of Green Cloud City.

  Zhi Xuan’s Sea of Consciousness momentarily surged. If a power level like Old Man Dun was aware of his existence, then every strong City Guard, every Clan Leader, and every sect envoy in the city had a report on the Killing Machine who reached the Eclipse Phase in the midst of the Blood Harvest.

  Zhi Xuan forced his Black Jade Essence to circulate, suppressing his surprise. He bowed his head slightly, a sign of respect and an unspoken question.

  “How does Master know that title?” Zhi Xuan asked, his voice low, concealing his inner tremor.

  Old Man Dun chuckled softly again, the laugh increasingly resembling the sound of ground pebbles.

  “The Dao knows no walls, child,” Old Man Dun replied, his eyes sharp, piercing through Zhi Xuan, as if seeing into the suppressed Devil Seed. “Heaven and Earth are a vast road; every judgment is karma created. Right and Wrong are determined, but the Dao Heart is the true strength in stepping over the Grand Path.”

  Old Man Dun’s words, spoken with authority that transcended the realm, floated in the heavy air inside the Gate of Ten Thousand Weapons. The explanation itself was a Grand Dao insight, an emphasis that silenced the young cultivators behind Zhi Xuan in respect and confusion.

  The low chuckle that followed, like the sound of ancient iron grating, made the young geniuses—who had just mocked Zhi Xuan—shudder.

  They realized the implication of Old Man Dun's acknowledgment: this shabby, blood-stained youth was not just an ordinary Blood Transformation cultivator. He was a figure who had been recognized by a hidden power, an entity whose actions in the Lower District had created karma significant enough to attract the attention of the upper layers of cultivation.

  Feng Yi, the Fire Phoenix girl, who had been leaning arrogantly, now stood straight. The contempt in her eyes was replaced by intense suspicion and assessment. “The Herald of Devil? A Lower District title? Old Man Dun, are you taking thug nonsense seriously?” she whispered, although her voice no longer held a mocking tone.

  The Blue Cloud Clan youth, who was the most vocal earlier, swallowed. His face paled, and he slowly stepped back. In Green Cloud City, every cultivator understood that there was a network of spies and spiritual monitoring controlled by powers far surpassing their sect authority.

  Zhi Xuan ignored the reactions of the geniuses. He only stared at Old Man Dun, absorbing every word. He nodded slowly, bowing slightly to show respect.

  “Grand Master teaches,” Zhi Xuan replied, using a deeply respectful tone. “I will remember it. Right and Wrong are not important, but control over the Dao Heart is paramount.”

  Zhi Xuan shifted his gaze away from Old Man Dun. His attention was now back on the two Artifacts he had bought; the Seven Stars Boat and the Ocean-Shattering Thunder Sword. He reached out his hand, and the dull silver boat floated into his palm. The boat felt cool and light, emitting a gentle spiritual essence.

  He turned to Mei Hua, whose eyes were filled with cheerful light upon seeing the small boat float.

  “Mei Hua,” Zhi Xuan whispered. “The Seven Stars Boat. This will carry us very far and very fast. You and Lulu must take care of it.”

  Mei Hua giggled cheerfully, reaching out her hands. The boat, as if drawn to the innocence of her soul, floated gently from Zhi Xuan’s palm and landed in Mei Hua’s embrace, alongside Lulu and the roll of silk.

  The flying artifact instinctively resonated with pure Spiritual Essence, and Mei Hua, who had no essence fluctuation, was strangely able to hold it without hindrance. Behind Zhi Xuan, the young geniuses finally broke their silence. Old Man Dun's acknowledgment had reversed the hierarchy inside the shop.

  “The Herald of Devil? Impossible!” whispered the Blue Cloud Clan youth, who had been loud in his mockery, now looking pale. He squeezed his blue silk robe, as if seeking protection from the sudden fact. “He's not just a thug, he's a recorded cultivator! If he reached the Eclipse phase in the arena, his strength—”

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  “Silence, Li Jun!” snarled Feng Yi, the Fire Phoenix girl, her voice now cold as honed steel. She was no longer sneering, but her eyes scanned Zhi Xuan with careful calculation. She understood what Old Man Dun had said; a title acknowledged by a high-realm cultivator was recognition, not nonsense.

  Feng Yi, Li Jun, and the other young geniuses suddenly saw Zhi Xuan not as a low-level cultivator stained with foul blood, but as a newborn threat.

  They, who lived in the luxury of clans and sects, relied on pills, inherited techniques, and protective networks. Zhi Xuan, the Herald of Devil, had trod the Devil's Path—the path of efficient killing—and managed to publicly break through the realm, attracting attention even from hidden cultivators. Power forged from such personal struggle and blood was far denser and more dangerous than cultivation supported by limitless resources.

  Zhi Xuan ignored the commotion behind him. He tightened his grip on the technique scrolls that were now his. He had acquired the Ocean-Shattering Thunder Sword, the Seven Stars Boat, and three technique scrolls. He had gained wealth and inner control.

  He wasted no time, tapping his waist and finishing storing all the items he had purchased. Zhi Xuan looked back at Old Man Dun, clasping his hands in front of his chest.

  “Thank you,” Zhi Xuan said, bowing slightly again.

  Zhi Xuan lifted his body from the brief respectful bow. His sapphire eyes now emitted a calm, cold light. In one hand, he had received what he needed; in the other, he held Mei Hua’s wrist. The exchange was complete, and now he only saw the way out.

  “Grand Master, I take my leave,” Zhi Xuan said, his voice carrying a tone of absolute resolve.

  Old Man Dun, his eyes still narrowed, nodded. The hoarse laugh, like grating stone, returned. “Go, child. Carry your Cause-and-Effect. And remember, the Grand Path does not care about intention, but only about True Strength.”

  He turned. His footsteps, though constrained by Mei Hua's small pace, radiated a cold resonance. Behind him, the young geniuses who had been noisy were now silent. This sudden silence felt heavier than any mockery.

  They watched Zhi Xuan, the blood-stained cultivator who had just emerged from the bloody pit of the Devil's Arena, walk among them, his left hand held by a strange little girl clutching a Flying Artifact and a Heavenly Silk.

  Mei Hua, with small, careful steps, walked by Zhi Xuan’s side, hugging her new treasures tightly. The roll of Shimmering Cloud Silk embroidered with star silver was now enveloped by the gentle aura of the Seven Stars Boat, a flying artifact entrusted to her care.

  As Zhi Xuan passed him, the Blue Cloud Clan youth, Li Jun, whose face was still pale, instinctively stepped back. Li Jun, accustomed to living in clan luxury and considering himself an unbeatable hidden dragon, felt a bone-chilling coldness.

  “The Herald of Devil…” Li Jun whispered, his voice hoarse, as if the words were poison. “He truly… he has no respect for dignity. He didn't even look at us as he walked.”

  Li Jun's former contempt was now mixed with deep fear. Most blood-stained cultivators from the Lower District would tremble or try to boast in front of a clan genius like himself. However, Zhi Xuan ignored them, treating them no more than dust on the road—a much greater insult.

  The Fire Phoenix girl, Feng Yi, reacted differently. She did not retreat, but instead leaned slightly forward, her sharp phoenix eyes now radiating a burning intensity. She ignored the Blue Cloud Clan youth and focused all her attention on Zhi Xuan’s receding silhouette.

  “He is no ordinary Lower District cultivator,” Feng Yi said, her voice cold and firm, her battle sect pride refusing to accept defeat. “He has trodden the Path of Pure Killing, which is more efficient and denser than the Path of Dual Cultivation. That title… he carries a very great Cause-and-Effect.”

  Another cultivator in Feng Yi's group, who was in the Organ Transformation realm, asked cautiously, “Yi-jie, should we… follow him? That half-damaged Heaven Artifact and the Earth-grade techniques are highly valuable.”

  Feng Yi glared sharply at her cultivator. “Fool! Did you not hear Old Man Dun? A person acknowledged by him carries Karma that we cannot interfere with. Furthermore, he is carrying that little girl—a creature with no spiritual essence fluctuation. That, too, could be a trap of the Heavenly Dao.”

  Feng Yi clenched her fist, her eyes blazing with uncontrolled fire. “The Herald of Devil. He dares to display his weakness in front of us, as if it were his strength. He challenges us. I will not allow a Lower District cultivator to surpass the grandeur of my Fire Phoenix Sect. We will meet him at the Thousand Heavens Sect Selection. I will measure the depth of his ‘True Strength’ on the battlefield.”

  “Yi-jie, it’s fine,” said one of Feng Yi’s group cultivators. “Every blood path he takes, he will be further hindered in his cultivation. The greater the karma he carries, the more destructive the heavenly tribulation will be.”

  “You are correct,” Feng Yi said, her voice once again filled with cold arrogance. “Every killing Essence accumulated within him will make it harder for him to ascend to higher paths.”

  Zhi Xuan, no longer concerned with the emotional turmoil and calculations behind him, continued his stride. He knew that in the cultivation world, the silence he left behind was far deadlier than the fiercest essence explosion. They had given him a title, and with that title, he gained space, respect mingled with fear, and most importantly, he had gained a cause-and-effect that could not be ignored.

  Zhi Xuan, without turning back, felt all the gazes behind him, but he did not slow his pace. Mei Hua, still walking carefully, suddenly tugged at Zhi Xuan’s wrist, halting their steps at the shop doorway.

  “Big Brother Zhi Xuan,” Mei Hua whispered, her eyes looking at the small boat in her embrace, then at the silk in her grip. “When will we make new clothes for Lulu and Mei?”

  Zhi Xuan felt a small, yet firm, tug on his wrist. It was the pure touch of the mortal world. Mei Hua, still immersed in the world of dolls and silk threads, had pulled him out of the cold calculation and spiritual will battle he had just left inside the shop.

  He turned to Mei Hua, and his gaze softened. He saw a reflection of his former self—a village youth who only thought of simple things—in the little girl’s clear eyes.

  “Of course, Mei Hua,” Zhi Xuan replied, his voice once again filled with a rare tenderness. He crouched down one more time, wrapping his cold aura to form a blanket of warmth around the girl. “We will make new clothes for Lulu and for you as soon as possible. Come on, Big Brother will take you to the city weaver.”

  He led Mei Hua away from the tense shop threshold. They stepped out of the narrow alley that split the magnificence of the Qinglong District, back onto the streets adorned with jade dragon pillars.

  Along the street, Zhi Xuan searched for a decent tailor shop. They entered a quiet boutique, far from the market hustle, named the Bamboo Leaf Embroidery Pavilion. The boutique was operated by a middle-aged woman who was a First Ember Realm cultivator; she had a refined aura and was skilled in making clothes.

  “Young Master,” the woman greeted him warmly, her narrow eyes assessing Zhi Xuan’s torn robe and cold aura, but she showed no fear. “What can I make for you?”

  Zhi Xuan placed the roll of Shimmering Cloud Silk with Seven Star Silver threads on the sandalwood table. The faint light from the silk immediately filled the room, catching the tailor woman’s attention.

  “Shimmering Cloud Silk!” the woman exclaimed, her eyes widening in awe. “This is exceptionally pure silk, found only at the peaks of mist-shrouded mountains! Young Master, this is a very precious material. Who is this for?”

  “For this girl, Mei Hua,” Zhi Xuan replied, pointing to Mei Hua who was now busy showing Lulu to the tailor. “And the remainder, for her doll, Lulu.”

  Mei Hua, who was now the center of attention, held Lulu high. “Lulu needs new clothes as bright as the stars, Auntie. Strong ones, so Lulu can protect Mei Hua.”

  The tailor woman smiled warmly, her heart touched by Mei Hua's innocence and the generosity of the blood-stained Young Master. She took the roll of silk with extremely careful hands, as if it were an invaluable treasure.

  “Of course, child,” the woman replied, her voice soft. “Auntie will make the most beautiful and strongest clothes for you and your friend.”

  The woman began to touch the silk, and her First Ember Realm Spiritual Essence flowed gently into the silver threads. She felt the softness of the fabric and the pure aura radiated by the silver threads. This silk was indeed an extraordinary material.

  “Young Master, with material this pure, and with my skill, I can sew basic dust-filtering and spiritual essence resistance formations. This will be clothing that is not only beautiful but can also protect this little girl from the dust and foul aura of cultivation,” the woman suggested, her eyes full of honest good intention.

  The woman turned to Mei Hua. “Come, child. With Auntie doing the sewing, your clothes and the doll's will be finished in some time!”

  Zhi Xuan nodded, his gaze softening slightly at the pure good intention of the First Ember Realm tailor woman—a rare kindness in the calculating Qinglong District.

  “I accept your offer,” Zhi Xuan said, his voice flat again, but his tone containing absolute trust.

  “Use your skill. Make it the safest clothing in the mortal world. I do not care about the price; I have already paid for the cloth at a worthy cost.”

  He took out two Mid-Grade Spiritual Stones and placed them on the sandalwood table. The dense light from the stones pulsed briefly, capturing the woman’s attention.