"Forbidden magic..." whispered a beautiful woman with a tilted phoenix headdress—the primary concubine of the Yun Clan, who now slumped to the floor. "That was a mental annihilation technique. Someone on this ark... or in the midst of this storm... has destroyed them without leaving a trace."

  Great Lord Yun turned toward the large crystal window, staring at the remnants of golden dust now drifting away, swallowed by the dimensional darkness. "Check every passenger! Now!" he roared with an anger laced with pure terror. "Anyone with a suspicious energy ripple, drag them before me! I don't care if I have to kill everyone on the lower deck—the culprit must be found!"

  "But Lord," the captain interrupted with a trembling voice, "if the culprit was capable of destroying the main ship with a single flick of a finger... is dragging them before you a wise idea? He... he might be a monster sitting among us right now, waiting to wring the life out of us as well."

  Hearing those words, Great Lord Yun froze. The noble arrogance he had always exalted collapsed instantly, replaced by a horrific realization. He swallowed hard, staring at the tightly closed pavilion door, as if death were standing patiently behind it.

  "You are right," Great Lord Yun hissed, his voice dropping to a whisper that was barely audible. "If he is here... if he truly is in the belly of this ark... then we are all just cattle waiting for our turn to be slaughtered."

  He sank into his chair upholstered in snow leopard skin; the splendor he had brought from the Southern Region now felt like suffocating silk. "Cancel the inspection order. Close all access to the lower deck. We... we will pretend we saw nothing until we reach the Western Region."

  In the stuffy lower deck, Zhi Xuan remained in his meditative position, motionless. The Ghost Hood enveloping his body seemed to be the boundary between the fleeting mortal world and the eternal depths he possessed. To him, the panic of the nobles above was nothing more than the meaningless howling of the wind.

  "You just broke the backbone of a fat sheep, Zhi Xuan," Ruo Xianxue remarked, her tone now calmer, almost bordering on respect. "Quite beautiful."

  "They were dead the moment they decided to use others' lives as sacrifices," Zhi Xuan replied internally. "I only accelerated their rot."

  The remainder of the journey over the next six solar cycles passed in a suffocating silence. Although the jolts of the spatial storm had subsided, the atmosphere inside the ark was no longer the same. The ship's guards, usually arrogant, now walked with muffled footsteps, their eyes darting wildly to every dim corner as if the shadows on the walls could suddenly rise and snatch their lives.

  Zhi Xuan spent the time diving into the recesses of his mind, letting his spiritual essence flow slowly through his newly recovered meridians. Occasionally, he opened his sapphire eyes slightly, glancing at the hunter girl who now sat closer to him. The girl did not dare to speak, but she occasionally placed a piece of dry bread or a small fruit near Zhi Xuan’s feet.

  "Don't give me anything, Girl," Zhi Xuan said one night, his voice low yet resonant like the vibration of a silent guqin string.

  The girl startled, her face flushing under the dim mental lamp. "I-I only... I felt that Senior might be hungry."

  Zhi Xuan did not turn, but the corners of his lips hidden behind the Ghost Hood hardened slightly. "Keep your supplies; you will need them more when your feet touch the soil of the Western Region. That land is not as soft as you imagine in your dreams."

  The girl fell silent, pulling her hand back tremblingly. She felt an immeasurable distance, as if the man before her was not a human breathing the same air, but an iceberg towering in the middle of the ocean.

  "W-what is Senior's name?" she whispered with what courage she had left. "My name is Ah-Mei."

  "Ming Xu," Zhi Xuan replied curtly, using his false identity without a hint of hesitation. "A wanderer who only wishes to see the sun set in a different place."

  The seventh solar cycle finally arrived. The ark’s bell tolled again, but this time the sound felt lighter and more melodic, breaking the tension that had been frozen for days.

  "We have exited the Sky Veil! The Western Region is visible on the horizon!" an airman shouted from the upper deck.

  Zhi Xuan rose slowly. Through a crack in the hull that had been repaired but still bore the marks of fracture, he saw a landscape entirely different from the remote Southern Region. The sky here was a pale blue with an eternal golden tint.

  Mountains rose like jade swords piercing the clouds, and the air rushing in carried the scent of a thousand herbs and a spiritual essence so pure it could wash away the impurities in the lungs of low-level practitioners.

  The ark slowly began its descent, gliding over a carpet of clouds toward a magnificent air harbor—West Light City. Unlike the wooden docks of the South, the harbor here was made of white crystal stone that reflected the sunlight, creating a dazzling and majestic sight.

  As the mental anchor was dropped and the gangplank lowered, passengers swarmed out with faces filled with both relief and anxiety for the morrow. Great Lord Yun and his remaining guards exited in a hurry, the noble's face haggard and his eyes constantly darting toward the crowd as if he were fleeing an invisible ghost.

  Zhi Xuan stepped down calmly, letting his robes trail over the crystal floor. He paused for a moment, inhaling the Western Region air rich with essence.

  "Welcome, Zhi Xuan," Ruo Xianxue’s voice echoed again, full of poisonous undertones. "Or should I say, welcome to the altar of the Sacred Pavilion Heavenly Leaf? I can feel the ripples of purity from here—so pure it makes me want to vomit my entire devilish essence."

  Zhi Xuan did not answer. His sapphire eyes looked toward the far north, where a higher plateau with mountains covered in lush nature appeared faintly, and toward other directions rich with natural life. This Western Region felt like a cleanser for the mental wounds he had left in the South.

  "Ming Xu!" Ah-Mei, the hunter girl, called out from a distance, waving her hand before disappearing into the bustle of the harbor market with her group of travelers.

  Zhi Xuan stared at the girl’s back for a moment before turning away, distancing himself from the crowd. His footsteps led him along the streets of West Light City, which were paved with marble tiles. At every corner, statues of guardian deities carved from jade radiated a calming glow.

  "How fragrant," Zhi Xuan murmured, releasing some of his tension and enjoying every step. "The Heavenly Law in this place feels denser and more tranquil."

  Zhi Xuan’s light footsteps seemed not to touch the marble; every stride was muffled by a mental intent that merged with the harmony of nature around him. Unlike the thick darkness he brought from the Southern border, West Light City was like a giant cup holding the purity of the heavens.

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  The pavilions here were built with architecture that curved like vines, decorated with essence crystals that served as natural lighting. Zhi Xuan walked through the herbal market stretching along the eastern district. The scent of sky roots, seven-colored flowers, and crystallized mountain dew filled his senses. Here, practitioners did not shout rudely like in the South; they exchanged information and resources with an elegance born of stable prosperity.

  Zhi Xuan looked around from beneath his hood; this calming sensation brought no insecurity or feeling of being watched, truly like falling leaves carried by the wind. Trees provided shade, some cultivators sat beneath them comprehending scrolls, while others fished near a clear river.

  Zhi Xuan stopped at the edge of a small bridge crossing a silver stream. He looked at his reflection in the water, which was so clear that the mystic stones at the bottom sparkled. For a moment, he seemed to forget that his hands were stained with the blood of Elders and his soul forged by the horrors of the Massacre.

  "Peaceful or not, a lie or not," Zhi Xuan muttered, watching the fish darting below. "This Western Region is like the color white in life."

  Zhi Xuan let his fingers touch the river water, which was as cold as snow, yet strangely, it did not sting his skin. Small ripples formed, breaking the image of his stiff face. In the Western Region, even the water element seemed to have its own will, flowing with a rhythm in harmony with the sacred pulse of the earth.

  Zhi Xuan sighed softly, beginning to feel the mental exhaustion he had endured since the forced patching of his Dao Heart. "A Devil's stain amidst the ripples of a sacred swan, how ironic."

  Zhi Xuan withdrew his fingers from the water's surface, letting the clear droplets fall back, creating a delicate tinkling sound that harmonized with the chirping of celestial birds in the surrounding trees. He stepped aside and sat cross-legged on the riverbank.

  "For once, I shall rest," Zhi Xuan murmured. He waved his hand, forming a fishing rod from his own energy.

  Zhi Xuan closed his eyes, letting his back lean against the trunk of a willow tree whose branches hung low, touching the surface of the silver river. The fishing rod he formed from the density of his own spiritual essence curved subtly, its crystalline tip falling into the water without causing a significant ripple.

  He set no bait, nor did he plant an intent to catch anything; to him, fishing in this place was merely a medium to realign his Divine Wheel, which had spent too long spinning on the axis of slaughter. The pure Yao Gu air of the Western Region was something he did not reject.

  Under the shade of the lush willow tree, Zhi Xuan seemed to dissolve into the silence. The breeze swayed his robes, but his mind, usually turbulent like a storm in a mental sea, began to cool. In the distance, several young cultivators in sky-blue silk robes walked across the bridge, their laughter clear and unburdened—a sight impossible to find in the dark, blood-soaked corners of the Southern Region.

  "Look at you," Ruo Xianxue mocked, though her tone lacked its usual bite, as if the pure air of the Western Region was also slowly eroding the crust of her hatred. "The Heavenly Devil sitting and fishing without bait, trying to trick the heavens by pretending to be a holy hermit. Do you think by sitting still here, the scent of blood from the ten thousand lives you've taken will simply be washed away by this river?"

  Zhi Xuan did not open his eyes. He felt the cold flow of the water below through his essence threads, sensing the heartbeat of the fish swimming without fear. "I am not seeking forgiveness, Ruo Xianxue," he replied in his mind. "I am simply listening to the world. For too long, my ears have been too full of the screams of death and the clashing of blades. Here, I want to hear the heartbeat of an uninjured earth."

  Zhi Xuan did not move his spiritual fishing rod, remaining silent and leaning back with eyes closed. "Fishing with a baited hook will only get you fish. However, fishing by submerging the rod itself will touch depths that cannot be penetrated by the heavens."

  Zhi Xuan let his spiritual thread extend, not to ensnare a body, but to feel the finer weave of natural laws. In the Western Region, the Heavenly Law felt as if it were woven with supple golden threads, unlike the Southern Region which was rigid and full of brutal energy fractures.

  Suddenly, the surface of the calm silver river vibrated. Not from the pull of a fish, but from a ripple of energy coming from upstream. A young practitioner in moss-green robes—the characteristic color of an outer sect disciple—approached. A bamboo basket emitting a strong medicinal aroma was strapped to his back.

  The youth’s steps halted as he saw Zhi Xuan leaning under the willow tree. He frowned, staring at the hookless rod held by the hooded man.

  "Senior," the youth greeted in a puzzled but polite tone, characteristic of this region. "Forgive me if I disturb your tranquility. However, this river flows from the springs of the Sacred Peak Mountain. The fish here possess quite high mental intelligence; they will not approach a hollow hook, let alone one that doesn't exist."

  Zhi Xuan still did not open his eyes. His voice came out in a very low tone, merging with the rustle of the wind. "I am not fishing for fish. I am fishing for silence. If my hook held bait, my mind would be bound to the result. Without bait, I have no desire. And without desire, I am part of the river itself."

  The youth was stunned. In the Western Region, such understandings were often heard from Elders, but seeing it practiced by a seemingly bland wanderer left a different impression. He bowed respectfully, feeling he had encountered a hermit hiding his cultivation.

  "I was presumptuous. May Senior find what is sought from this river," the youth said before walking away with more cautious steps.

  Zhi Xuan let the youth's footsteps fade until they were swallowed by the gurgle of the water. Silence reigned once more, but this time it felt denser.

  "The Western Region... regardless, I am but a poor wanderer here," Zhi Xuan murmured. He opened his eyes and pulled in the fishing rod; a single silver fish rose before he released it back. "Heavenly Jade... naturally, that is the way for me to not be poor and to never hesitate to step anywhere."

  The silver fish leaped back into the water. Zhi Xuan lowered his fishing rod and returned to his quiet state. "However, a Soul Transformation practitioner wanting to become a sect disciple? That is too nonsensical, especially for someone like me."

  "Heavenly Jade might be a resource for every grand sect disciple who has reached Soul Transformation," Zhi Xuan thought. "But my path does not just stop within a sect."

  "But where else can I obtain it? If I were still in the South, perhaps I could go to the Moon Lotus," Zhi Xuan thought again, sighing softly. "Such things cannot be sold or even bought using spiritual stones. Even with all my spiritual stones, Heavenly Jade is too pure and cannot be bought."

  He turned toward West Light City, gazing at the far-off bustle of cultivators and inhabitants. "Begging for Heavenly Jade? No. Perhaps I will find something I can do to earn it."

  Zhi Xuan stood up, his spiritual fishing rod dissolving into specks of light that were absorbed back into his skin.

  "I will seek information in this place," Zhi Xuan muttered. "To step without a guide is to let the soul get lost even in death."

  He stepped away from the riverbank, heading toward the heart of West Light City which glowed brighter as the sun began to slip toward the western horizon. Before him loomed a magnificent building with a roof resembling the wings of a phoenix, made of ancient agarwood that provided a soul-soothing aroma to all corners of the street. The signboard bore golden letters pulsing with protective energy: The Pavilion of Heavenly Secrets.

  "This place..." Ruo Xianxue whispered, her aura fluctuating slightly. "I smell the foul scent of knowledge. Those who sell secrets usually have eyes too sharp for your comfort, Zhi Xuan."

  "Let them stare," Zhi Xuan replied coldly. "Their eyes will only see what I allow them to see."

  Zhi Xuan stepped inside. The pavilion's interior was far vaster than its exterior—a subtle but complex manipulation of space. Mountain-high shelves filled with jade scrolls and ancient books lined the walls, while in the center of the room, a pool reflected a constantly changing sky.

  A middle-aged man in grey scholar's attire, whose aura was at the Soul Transformation realm, approached with silent steps. His clear eyes swept over Zhi Xuan, pausing for a moment on the Ghost Hood he wore, but he showed no signs of surprise.

  "Welcome to the Pavilion of Heavenly Secrets," the scholar greeted with a smooth but authoritative voice. "Every question has a price, and every price is paid with fate. What does a wanderer from afar seek in our land?"

  Zhi Xuan did not waste time with unnecessary pleasantries. "I seek a way to obtain Heavenly Jade without having to swear fealty to any sect in this Western Region."

  The man raised an eyebrow before smiling thinly. "Oh? You require Heavenly Jade? Isn't this a bit high for someone with First Ember cultivation—or is there a Soul Transformation expert hiding here?"

  "The price of information is truth, not the stripping of identity," Zhi Xuan replied, his voice now as heavy as a collapsing mountain. "I came to trade, not to be tested by your old eyes."

  The scholar chuckled—a calm laugh without ill intent—and waved his hand to ease the tension in the air. "Rest easy, friend from afar. At the Pavilion of Heavenly Secrets, we value privacy more than our own lives. However, Heavenly Jade... ah, you ask for something that is the very lifeblood of the Western Region."