“Here,” Zhi Xuan said. “This is for your labor and for any recovery pills you might need to finish this quickly and without fatigue.”

  The tailor woman was stunned. Two Mid-Grade Spiritual Stones were a full month’s income for a First Ember Realm seamstress.

  “Young Master, this—this is too much!” the woman whispered, her eyes wide with surprise.

  “It is the value of your service,” Zhi Xuan cut in, with a gentle but firm tone of command. He did not wish to bargain. “Finish it within two hours. I must leave.”

  Zhi Xuan then turned to Mei Hua, who was now sitting quietly on the carved bench, watching the tailor intently. “Mei Hua, you sit here. Big Brother will wait outside. Big Brother will not be long.”

  Mei Hua nodded, her eyes glued to the roll of Shimmering Cloud Silk. “Alright, Big Brother Zhi Xuan. Lulu will guard Mei Hua. And Lulu will get star clothes!”

  Zhi Xuan turned, not waiting for a further response. He stepped out of the Bamboo Leaf Embroidery Pavilion, his cold, deadly aura once again enveloping him like a cloak of darkness.

  He chose a corner outside the shop, under the shade of a giant pine tree decorated with spiritual lanterns. Zhi Xuan let himself fall, sitting cross-legged and closing his eyes, sinking into his sea of consciousness.

  While his physical body sat in cold calmness in the outer world, Zhi Xuan’s inner self entered the surging sea of essence. His Sea of Consciousness, having just gone through a storm of killing and breakthrough, now appeared calm on the surface, but in the depths, cold currents were still swirling.

  The Devil Seed, which had been forced to submit to his Dao, now shrank back into a stable black dot at the bottom of the sea. However, it was not silent. From the Devil Seed, a thin, cold, blood-red thread, exactly like the one Mei Hua saw, slowly crept up, attempting to wrap around the core of his Divine Wheel.

  It was the remnant of wild desire, a subconscious attempt by the devil seed to take control. Above all this chaos, the Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron rotated slowly but unstoppably. Zhi Xuan focused on recovering himself; he was stabilizing the remarkable Eclipse breakthrough.

  “Monkey,” Ruo Xianxue's voice echoed like the snort of an ancient devil. “You waste time sitting under a tree waiting for that little girl? Do you want a sword thrust through your chest by closing your eyes in the middle of a city like this?”

  Zhi Xuan ignored the steel-cold sneer from the Ancient Devil Monument. He allowed the thin, cold red thread to crawl up from the bottom of his sea of consciousness, threatening as if it would wrap around his body and stab him.

  “Be quiet, red stone,” Zhi Xuan said calmly and lazily. “What do you think of those technique scrolls and the sword artifact?”

  An oppressive silence briefly enveloped his sea of consciousness. Then, Ruo Xianxue’s laughter erupted, a laugh that sounded like ten thousand sword blades scraping in a vacuum, filled with cold cosmic contempt.

  “You ask for my opinion, lowly Monkey?” Ruo Xianxue roared, her voice, originating from the Ancient Devil Monument, trembled, reflecting a mixture of nearly unbearable mockery and surprise. The laughter slowly subsided, leaving a cold hiss.

  “Of course I ask for your opinion,” Zhi Xuan replied calmly in his mind, ignoring the small tremor caused by Ruo Xianxue’s laughter in his Sea of Consciousness.

  He even allowed the red thread of devilish desire to wrap around his spiritual wrist—a risky control trick, like holding a tame venomous snake.

  “I bought them with blood and efficiency, and I spent almost all my Mid-Grade Spiritual Stones. You, as an Ancient Devil Monument who has witnessed thousands of eras, must know which is valuable and which is trash covered in spiritual dust.”

  Ruo Xianxue’s cold hiss was heard again, this time with a rare, genuine tone of interest.

  “You dare test my knowledge, Monkey? Very well. Let’s see what garbage you picked up from a shabby shop guarded by a low-realm cultivator,” Ruo Xianxue scoffed.

  A dark shadow, the manifestation of Ruo Xianxue’s will from the shattered Ancient Devil Monument, slowly floated above Zhi Xuan’s Sea of Consciousness, scanning the scrolls and artifacts safely stored in his storage bag.

  “The first scroll, Heavenly Destroyer Palm,” Ruo Xianxue mumbled. The shadow trembled briefly. “An Earth-grade technique… quite competent. Uses explosive essence compression. Simple, brutal, and suitable for your blood-stained hands. Requires precise control not to self-destruct your meridians. Passable.”

  Then, the second and third scrolls unfolded in Zhi Xuan’s sea of consciousness, radiating a forbidden but too low blood aura, as if eroded by the passage of time.

  “Four Directions Blood Shield and Three Trace Shadow Step,” Ruo Xianxue continued, her voice filled with unconcealed disgust. Her black shadow floating in Zhi Xuan’s Sea of Consciousness now looked like a robe being elegantly but lazily waved. “They are just low-level protection techniques and movement techniques.”

  Zhi Xuan snorted and rolled his eyes lazily; these were useful technique scrolls, besides the Blood Wind Vortex and Heavenly Destroyer Palm techniques. Shield protection and movement speed techniques were things that provided an advantage in combat.

  “These are techniques that complement my deficiencies,” Zhi Xuan said, his eyes briefly sweeping over the unfolded scrolls. “Useful if my opponent is superior in long-range combat.”

  Ruo Xianxue’s laughter, like the hiss of ten thousand sharp blades, filled Zhi Xuan’s Sea of Consciousness.

  “You are explaining evasion,” Ruo Xianxue cut in, her voice now dripping with piercing mockery and filled with a hoarse laugh. “You always think about drawing your tail back, not plunging your sword forward.”

  Zhi Xuan spiritually shrugged his shoulders, which were enveloped by the red thread of devilish desire that now appeared tame and obedient. “Retreat is a strategy, red stone. Only a cultivator driven by arrogance thinks advancing is the only option.”

  Ruo Xianxue grunted, her sharp laughter cut short. “Nonsense. Let us move on to your dog-turd artifacts.”

  Ruo Xianxue’s shadow moved to the sword artifact. It first scanned the Ocean-Shattering Thunder Sword. The shadow paused briefly, radiating a slower, darker vibration.

  “Ancient Thunder Wood,” Ruo Xianxue mumbled, and now her tone changed; there was a layer of cold acknowledgment within it. “A damaged blade, eroded by God’s Blood. In its prime, this blade could cleave a Heavenly River. Alas, only a third remains.”

  The sword blade floated in Zhi Xuan's sea of consciousness, faintly humming as if it held a powerful intention. His own sword blade was already dulled by fragments, forged with Hell Black Iron, while the lightning-root cracks spread to the sword hilt. It was Ancient Thunder Wood.

  “You are quite lucky; this sword, though damaged, can at least still summon a lightning storm within a radius of a few meters.”

  “Lightning storm mantra?” Zhi Xuan repeated, slightly interested. The ability to summon lightning, even on a small scale, was a huge tactical advantage. It was a Heavenly Law rare in the lower realm. “Tell me how to activate it.”

  Ruo Xianxue’s laughter, which this time had a cold, shocking resonance, filled Zhi Xuan’s sea of consciousness. “Lightning storm mantra? You are still like a withered stalk, yet you dare challenge the laws of heaven?”

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  “That Ancient Thunder Wood does not provide a mantra for you, lowly Monkey!” Ruo Xianxue roared, her dark shadow beginning to radiate energy, as if wanting to strike the surrounding technique scrolls. “You belittle a Heaven-Grade Artifact that once drank the blood of a God! Do you think this artifact is the same as trash that only needs to activate a sword formation?”

  Zhi Xuan spiritually sighed, the warmth from the rotating Heavenly Trifold Reincarnation Cauldron above him slightly dampening the Ancient Devil Monument’s emotional outburst.

  “I do not belittle the artifact, red stone,” Zhi Xuan countered, his voice calm, though his sea of consciousness churned from the energy shock of the Ancient Devil Monument. “I just… If there is no mantra, then it functions as a solid blade. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  Ruo Xianxue’s sneer sounded like a crack of spiritual essence. “If? You call a Heaven Artifact that drank God’s Blood merely a ‘solid blade’? You lowly street cultivator!”

  Her dark shadow wrapped around the Ocean-Shattering Thunder Sword blade inside the storage bag. “This sword… it responds to pure intent and the energy of heaven and earth, drawing the embedded remnants of the Law of Thunder. It doesn’t need a formation. It needs a will capable of challenging the heavens. You? You are barely Blood Transformation. Try not to have this blade strike you with thunder before you think about using it to attack.”

  “Alright, alright,” Zhi Xuan interrupted, with a deliberate lazy tone. He was amused by the emotional outburst of the usually aloof Ancient Devil Monument. “So, it is an arrogant blade that only responds to a Heavenly King? I understand. I will treat it as such. I will save it until I can cleave a Heavenly River with one swing.”

  Zhi Xuan shifted all the technique scrolls and artifacts back into his storage bag; he decided to find a secluded place near nature later, so he could also keep an eye on Mei Hua.

  “Red stone,” Zhi Xuan said once more. “How confident are you in me, at the Thousand Heavens Sect selection?”

  A bone-chilling laugh filled with cosmic contempt exploded again from the Ancient Devil Monument. It was not a cheerful laugh, but a sharp howl that tore through the calm of Zhi Xuan’s Sea of Consciousness.

  “Confident? You dare speak of confidence with me, lowly Monkey?” Ruo Xianxue roared, her voice filled with disdain that crossed thousands of eras.

  Her dark shadow, the manifestation of the Ancient Devil Monument’s will, now swirled around the docile Devil Seed at the bottom of Zhi Xuan’s sea of consciousness, as if wanting to crush it to dust.

  “You are merely a drop of blood seeking dignity in a muddy pond. Your strength, compared to the true geniuses of the Southern Continent you will meet, is but morning dew that will evaporate. You have just stabilized the Eclipse phase, a small step that in the high cultivation world is considered only a fragile foundation. You think with three hundred Mid-Grade Spiritual Stones and a broken blade, you can challenge Heavenly Destiny?”

  Ruo Xianxue hissed, her voice sharp as a thousand whetted blades. “I am not confident in you, Monkey. I am confident in one thing: the will you possess. You do not have extraordinary talent, but you possess cold efficiency, and you use your mortal bond as a whip to control your devilish desire. That is the only thing that amuses me. I want to see how far you can walk on the thin wire between Dao and Devil.”

  “My confidence in you is irrelevant,” Ruo Xianxue continued, her tone returning to flat and cold. “What is important is: I want to see the chaos you will cause.”

  Zhi Xuan nodded in his spiritual silence. That was the most honest answer he could expect from the arrogant Ancient Devil Monument. He did not care about confidence; he only cared about results.

  Zhi Xuan spiritually let out a long breath, ignoring the rumbling laughter and cosmic mockery of Ruo Xianxue which now slowly subsided. His Sea of Consciousness returned to calm; the Devil Seed and the Ancient Devil Monument had returned to their restless ‘slumber.’

  The red thread of devilish desire that had wrapped around his spiritual wrist was now drawn back to the bottom of the sea, as if the creature was satisfied with the cold exchange of words. Zhi Xuan opened his sapphire eyes in the outer world. He sat cross-legged, his torn and dirty red robe blending with the shadows under the pine tree adorned with spiritual lanterns.

  His body radiated an aura of calmness so cold that mortal passersby nearby instinctively took a detour, sensing an inexplicable pressure. The silence lasted for two hours.

  During that time, Zhi Xuan completed his minor recovery, stabilizing his previously turbulent Divine Wheel. Every breath he took drew the gentle Essence of Heaven and Earth from the Qinglong District, purifying it into droplets of black jade spiritual essence.

  Just as the sun began to lean westward and the spiritual lanterns began to emit a brighter light, the door of the Bamboo Leaf Embroidery Pavilion creaked open.

  The tailor woman came out with a face that showed a mixture of genuine fatigue and joy. She saw Zhi Xuan sitting under the tree, his cold yet peaceful aura seemingly binding the space around him.

  The tailor woman, though tired, smiled proudly. The two Mid-Grade Spiritual Stones had given her enough spiritual energy to work non-stop, and her hidden skill now had the honor of touching the Shimmering Cloud Silk.

  “Young Master,” she called softly. “It is finished. As you requested.”

  Zhi Xuan opened his eyes. The movement was almost imperceptible, but his sapphire eyes immediately radiated a cold intensity, breaking the calmness he had gathered. He stood up, his torn red robe swaying briefly, leaving the shadow of the pine tree.

  Mei Hua stepped out, her small face beaming. She was now wearing a new dress that was simple yet stunning, made from Shimmering Cloud Silk with Seven Star Silver threads. The fabric did not emit a dazzling light, but it radiated a soft, faint glow, as if hidden stars rested in its folds.

  The simple dust-filtering and spiritual essence resistance formations woven by the seamstress made the dress reflect minor dirt. Mei Hua looked like a small fairy who had just descended from the mist of a mountain peak, a complete contrast to the dusty backdrop of Green Cloud City.

  In her embrace, Lulu also had new clothes. The rag doll’s outfit, made from silk remnants and adorned with silver threads, looked like a tiny protective cloak.

  “Big Brother Zhi Xuan, look!” Mei Hua exclaimed, turning her body carefully. She did not radiate essence, but her pure happiness triggered an unexpected wave of warmth. “Lulu and Mei have star clothes! And Auntie Seamstress said the clothes are strong!”

  Zhi Xuan stepped closer, his cold aura drastically subsiding in the face of such pure innocence. He looked at Mei Hua, and his gaze softened. The silk dress was indeed stunning, radiating a thin aura of spiritual protection, like a layer of mist guarding a flower.

  “It is beautiful, Mei Hua,” Zhi Xuan said, his voice husky again, almost without emotion, but there was a layer of acknowledgment within it. He nodded to the tailor woman, whose eyes were filled with pride.

  “Thank you for your hard work,” Zhi Xuan said to the seamstress, a genuine and rare compliment he rarely gave.

  The tailor woman smiled broadly; she knew the value of that compliment far surpassed the two mid-grade spiritual stones. “It was my honor, Young Master. I hope this dress brings good fortune to Little Miss on your journey.”

  Zhi Xuan nodded once more, then he took Mei Hua’s small hand. “Come, Mei Hua. We must leave now. We are going to see the stars.”

  Mei Hua immediately followed, her steps now light and full of spirit, as if the new dress were wings. They stepped out of the Qinglong District, heading towards the city gate where the Seven Stars Boat would carry them across the horizon.

  Mei Hua walked with a light step, occasionally turning her body, letting the last of the lantern light shining in the Qinglong District reflect off the silver threads of her new dress. She no longer hugged the large silk roll, only Lulu in one hand and her other small hand holding Zhi Xuan’s cold wrist.

  “Big Brother Zhi Xuan, do falling stars taste sweet like firework candies?” Mei Hua asked, her voice chirping cheerfully.

  Zhi Xuan, who was busy arranging the safest route to avoid clashes outside the city gate, was momentarily stunned by such a pure question. He had just emerged from his Sea of Consciousness filled with cosmic mockery and a battle of wills. Mei Hua's question felt like a gentle slap that cleansed his ears.

  “Falling stars…” Zhi Xuan mumbled, trying to form an analogy that made sense to a small mortal girl, while instinctively filtering out passing spiritual senses. “They taste… perhaps like a high-grade spiritual pill that has been allowed to evaporate in the air, sweet, but very fragile.”

  Mei Hua frowned, confused. “Spiritual pill? Lulu said that doesn’t taste good. Lulu only likes firework candies.”

  Zhi Xuan spiritually sighed in his mind. Trying to explain Heavenly Laws and cultivation essence to Mei Hua was as futile as trying to teach a duck to fly. He had to revert to mortal language.

  “Alright,” Zhi Xuan said, his voice softening, ignoring the cynical gaze of a passing Blood Transformation cultivator. “Falling stars taste like pure honey-flavored firework candy. You can eat them.”

  Mei Hua nodded contentedly. “Yay!”

  As they reached the city gate—a giant jade stone gate flanked by tall guard towers—Zhi Xuan slowed his pace.

  The area was filled with fully armored City Guards and many wealthy cultivators preparing to leave or arrive, riding luxurious spiritual carriages or small flying Artifacts.

  “Mei Hua, hold tight,” Zhi Xuan whispered, pulling Mei Hua closer to the side of his robe. He did not overtly channel his black jade essence, but he allowed the cold, deadly aura he gained from the arena to envelop him and Mei Hua, forming a psychological shield that made people reluctant to approach.

  They passed through the guarded gate. A city guard glanced briefly, sensing the cold, hard aura, but seeing the youth holding the hand of an innocent little girl, he ignored them. Minor conflict at the city gate would only create unnecessary trouble.

  Outside the gate, the vast expanse of the Jade Dragon Mountains stretched alongside the Southern Mountains. The twilight sky was orange and purple, adorned with thin layers of spiritual mist floating from the hidden mountain peaks.

  This was the boundary between the civilized Green Cloud City and the wilderness. Zhi Xuan stopped his steps on a grassy hill slightly hidden behind a pile of large rocks. He scanned his surroundings with his divine sense, ensuring no cultivators were eavesdropping.

  “Big Brother Zhi Xuan, when will we fly?” Mei Hua asked, her eyes shining as she looked at the sky. She hugged Lulu and the Seven Stars Boat which was still in its small replica form.

  “Now,” Zhi Xuan replied. He gently took the Seven Stars Boat from Mei Hua’s embrace. The flying artifact, made from Star Burial Forest pine branches, felt light and emitted a faint glow.