Zhi Xuan pondered Ruo Xianxue’s words. It was true that he would be suspected if he was not clever in concealing things within his body. It could even mean he would be hunted by major sects.

  "I mean," Zhi Xuan began, his voice filled with foresight regarding his cultivation. "If I join a sect one day, wouldn't the cultivation resources I gain support me without the need to face an abyss at every turn?"

  Zhi Xuan stepped between the roots of the Ancient Pine, his Black Jade Essence feeling more stable thanks to the passive cleansing from Xiao Die. However, his Sea of Consciousness still surged with Ruo Xianxue’s raspy laughter.

  Ruo Xianxue was silent for a moment, her voice returning calmer, but weighted. ‘You are pursuing the Blood Transformation realm. You must purify the decaying Taiyin heritage. Do you think any sect would allow you to burn your own Spiritual Blood under their roof without demanding an explanation? They would suspect you are trying to seize their Heavenly Dao or, worse, practicing the Devil Dao. They would extinguish your fire.’

  Zhi Xuan stopped walking. He stood between two Ancient Pines, the Black Jade Essence spinning around him feeling tranquil. He had to concede to Ruo Xianxue's cold, cruel logic. Sects were systems designed to maintain balance and nurture the majority, not to protect anomalies. And Zhi Xuan was a walking anomaly.

  "I understand," Zhi Xuan murmured. "But don't sects always store something I can exploit? I'm not lying to myself. If I keep wandering aimlessly like this, I won't be able to reach Five Element or even surpass it. Killing two birds with one stone, gaining a protective cage."

  "And," Zhi Xuan concluded, raising his head to look at the tree leaves and the brilliant sun. "I don't intend to study alchemy too deeply; it's just a necessity, not a goal."

  Zhi Xuan continued his steps slowly; he did not want to rush. His spiritual Essence had not fully recovered, and he would not risk entering Green Cloud City in a weak condition later. He walked unhurriedly, allowing the Essence of Nature to embrace his meridians, repairing the subtle damage from being forced out of the spatial fold.

  "If we only rely on ourselves, we will die," Zhi Xuan muttered, his thoughts pragmatic. "Since the devil seed is already planted, only carving a Heavenly Dao can suppress it."

  The Devil Seed was a whip. It demanded power, ambition, and rapid progress. If Zhi Xuan contented himself with slow wandering, the Seed would corrode his Dao Heart until he became the perfect puppet for Ruo Xianxue. The only way out was to suppress the Devil by achieving the heights of the Heavenly Dao, and for that, he needed Sect resources.

  ‘Killing two birds with one stone, eh?’ Ruo Xianxue snorted, the raspy laughter returning, but now with a hidden tone of approval. ‘Charming pragmatism, Monkey. Sects store Dao scriptures they will never show you. They store condensed Spiritual Pools, and they maintain Defensive Formations that can protect them from low-class Devils.’

  ‘A cage, if you insist on entering, must be exploited quickly and without emotional ties. You must become a ghost. Enter, take what you need, and leave before their poison—or the scent of your Devil Seed—is detected.’

  Zhi Xuan touched his robe pocket, where Xiao Die rested. He had to admit that he needed stability, even if only for a short while.

  He could not merely rely on wild Essence. For Blood Transformation and beyond, he needed condensed resources, Spiritual Pools, or at least protection from disturbance when he entered an extreme Life-Death Cultivation phase.

  "If they accept me," Zhi Xuan said, his voice now calm and slightly cold, "I accept them. But if they hunt me, I will hunt them."

  Zhi Xuan smiled faintly, he touched the Heart Nourishing Jade located behind his robe, the object that was supposed to tie his hair. That object was the only thing that kept him remembering that he was once a young man who yearned for family, affection, and love.

  "Star Village, I will always be the youth there..." Zhi Xuan murmured.

  He realized that the true cage was not the grand Sects, but his own Dao Heart, which he must keep pure from the Devil's temptation. If he succeeded in restraining the Devil Seed and purifying his Spiritual Blood, Sects were merely a mortal stepping stone, and Star Village was the only real home.

  He directed his gaze north, towards Green Cloud City. His steps were now filled with determination and cold calculation, a ghost preparing to enter a cage to harvest resources.

  The journey from the edge of the Mist Chaser Village took four full days. Zhi Xuan, though recovered, was cautious, constantly using his Divine Sense to scan for traces of Devils or any remaining spatial anomalies. The ancient forest of the southern continent now felt larger, quieter, but also more threatening in its passive silence.

  On the fifth day, Zhi Xuan decided to stop at one of the village settlements. He had left the dense vegetation, and now he was in a bustling village settlement. The cobblestone streets were still fresh, surrounded by natural fences created by flowers.

  Zhi Xuan stopped right in front of the main village road, taking a deep breath and closing his eyes. The purity in the village felt very calming and made him forget the weight of his plans for a moment.

  Zhi Xuan stood frozen at the edge of the main village road. The silence of the forest had been replaced by the noisy hum of mortal life—the smell of toasted bread mixed with the aroma of spices and the sweat of laborers.

  Small children ran in the streets, laughing happily while playing chase. An old woman sat on her porch, sewing, humming a local song. At a small food stall, the tempting aroma of noodle soup filled the air.

  His entire Black Jade Essence had just reached a fragile equilibrium after seven days on the verge of chaos, and he allowed himself to enjoy this peaceful moment, where the weight of the Devil Seed felt a little lighter.

  Suddenly, the peace was shattered by a loud, impatient shout.

  "Hey! Move aside, you're blocking my cart!"

  Zhi Xuan opened his eyes, his calm expression slightly disturbed. In front of him, an old wooden cart, pulled by a thin, brown-furred bull, drove slowly. On top of the cart, a fat man with a thick mustache and a worn straw hat swung his whip, although the whip never actually touched the bull.

  "Are you deaf or something? Move, kid!" the man shouted again, his voice like an overly excited rooster's croak.

  Zhi Xuan, accustomed to facing deadly spiritual threats or cruel puppet masters, blinked. He turned slightly, looking around. The village road was indeed not very wide, and he was standing right in the middle, enjoying the Essence of nature. This was a mortal conflict, something he had not experienced in a long time.

  "My apologies," Zhi Xuan said, bowing his head slightly nervously and immediately moving off the road.

  The fat man snorted with satisfaction, unaware that he had just yelled at a cultivator carrying a Devil Seed and a Divine Cauldron from the Ancient Era.

  "Aish, youth nowadays, only capable of standing in the middle of the road and dreaming of fairies. Bull, move!"

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  The thin bull, named The Orange, ignored the fat man's command. The bull stopped right next to where Zhi Xuan had moved, and with a remarkably calm gaze, Orange leaned its head towards a large, steaming bowl of noodle soup at the nearest stall.

  "Hey, Orange! What are you doing?!" the fat man yelled, but he was unable to stop the animal.

  The Orange carefully extended its large head, and with a very professional movement, it snatched the entire large dumpling from the noodle soup bowl of an old man who was enjoying his lunch.

  The old man—a white-haired mortal with a thin beard—froze, his eyes fixed on his missing dumpling.

  "OH MY GOD! MY DUMPLING!" The grandfather shouted in a tone more panicked than the Head Weaver when Zhi Xuan destroyed his field.

  The Orange leisurely chewed the dumpling, the bull's eyes radiating a serene satisfaction, as if it had just reached Dao enlightenment.

  The fat man jumped off the cart in a panic, his large stomach shaking. "I'm sorry, Old Man! The Orange! You traitor bull!"

  The man desperately tried to pull The Orange's reins, but Orange, with the full weight of a bull, did not budge. The bull turned its head towards the fat man with a look that seemed to say that it also needed good food.

  Zhi Xuan, leaning against the natural fence, was forced to stifle his small, bitter laughter. After weeks of confronting death, manipulation, and devil monuments, this ridiculous mortal life felt like a healing balm for the soul.

  The old man, with a mournful cry over his lost dumpling, now stood tall. He did not attack the bull, but he looked at the fat man with a demanding gaze.

  "Six silver pieces for one dumpling!" The grandfather shouted, his voice rising an octave, showing unexpected assertiveness. "That dumpling was made from mountain rooster chicken! And you, you ruined my lunch!"

  The fat man reached into his pocket, his face pale. "Six silver pieces? Old Man! Your dumpling was the size of a thumb! I only have four pieces..."

  Zhi Xuan pursed his lips to suppress laughter, a very rare expression on the face of an Ancient Heaven cultivator. He had just escaped the threat of a Sacred Devil, his soul seed was being tested, but he was now witnessing a mortal dumpling drama demanding six silver pieces—a crazy price for a village size.

  He found himself amused by this absurd situation. In the Mist Chaser Village, the price of a cultivator's life was Foul Spiritual Blood; here, the price of tranquility was a mountain rooster chicken dumpling.

  The fat man, with his messy mustache, began to plead. "Old Man, I beg you! The Orange is being naughty today! I will replace it with a full bowl of noodle soup tomorrow!"

  "Tomorrow?" The old man snorted, his arms crossed. "My appetite is gone! That dumpling was the core of my lunch! I demand fair compensation!"

  The Orange, the culprit bull, still stood calmly, chewing the dumpling with misplaced dignity, as if it were an ancient entity entitled to eat whatever it wished.

  Zhi Xuan sighed, deciding that he could not allow this drama to ruin his newly acquired tranquility. He stepped forward, his hand subtly moving to his silk robe pocket.

  "Excuse me," Zhi Xuan interjected with a calm and soft voice, interrupting the tense negotiation. He took two silver pieces from his robe pocket—his "pathetic" haul from the Head Weaver—and offered them to the Old Man.

  "This is the rest. I will cover the remainder."

  The Old Man and the fat man simultaneously turned, looking at Zhi Xuan. They saw a handsome young man whose clothes were neat and luxurious—a red silk robe embroidered with jade—a sharp contrast to the village scene.

  The Old Man quickly snatched the two silver pieces, his cloudy eyes gleaming like a low-level Spiritual Stone. "Ah! Kindly Young Master! May your path be bright! Six silver pieces paid in full! Thank you!"

  The fat man looked at Zhi Xuan with eyes full of guilt and relief. "Young Master, thank you so much! I owe you a debt of gratitude!"

  Zhi Xuan merely smiled faintly, a serene smile returning. He had already gotten what he wanted: a moment of peace, and a little laughter.

  "No problem," Zhi Xuan replied. He then looked at The Orange, the bull. The bull turned to him, and the bull's eyes, which had been calm, now seemed to radiate a strange curiosity.

  Zhi Xuan channeled his Divine Sense slightly. He sensed that this bull was not just a mortal cow. This bull had a slight trace of Spiritual Essence in its blunt meridians, a faint bloodline, but enough to give it unusual intelligence.

  "Orange" Zhi Xuan murmured. "Eating noodle soup is a mortal pleasure. Don't steal it again."

  The Orange let out a snorting sound that resembled a small laugh, then obediently stepped forward, pulling the cart as if it had never violated mortal ethics.

  The fat man, still shocked by the quick transaction, immediately returned to the cart, cracking his whip once more in the air. "Go, Orange! We owe the Young Master a debt!"

  As the cart moved away, Zhi Xuan heard the fat man talking to his bull, "Orange, you really know how to choose who to blame, huh? That young man must be a rich cultivator!"

  Zhi Xuan shook his head slowly, continuing his walk down the village street. The small incident succeeded in dissipating the tension of the Devil Seed, at least for now.

  He walked to the noodle soup stall that had been the scene of the incident, sitting on a worn wooden bench. The Old Man, with two extra silver pieces in his pocket, now sat next to him, his eyes narrowed with curiosity.

  "Young Master," the Old Man whispered, nudging Zhi Xuan's arm. "You're a cultivator, right? Your face is too clean to be a farmer here."

  Zhi Xuan smiled politely. "I am merely a wanderer. I am looking for the path north, Old Man."

  "North, eh? Green Cloud City? Good place! But, Young Master, your appearance attracts too much attention here. This village rarely sees a youth dressed in silk who doesn't even blink when paying six silver pieces for a dumpling."

  The grandfather leaned closer, whispering conspiratorially. "You know, six silver pieces could actually buy five dumplings. But Si Jingga ruined my appetite. Consider it an entertainment fee."

  Zhi Xuan found himself chuckling lightly, a genuine laugh. "In that case, Old Man, consider it a fee for an expensive show. I appreciate your honesty."

  Zhi Xuan ordered a bowl of noodle soup. The savory aroma of chicken broth, combined with the smell of freshly cooked dumplings, felt comforting. He ate slowly, allowing his Black Jade Essence to absorb the weak spiritual Essence in the mortal food.

  Zhi Xuan finished his noodle soup. The warmth of the soup and the authentic spices—far from thick spiritual elixirs or Foul Spiritual Blood—provided a mortal comfort he desperately needed. While eating, he subtly observed his surroundings. This village, with its purity and simplicity, was the antithesis of the cruelty he had faced.

  One of the fat men sitting at the corner table began to speak loudly. "Hey, did you hear that? In three months in Green Cloud City, there will be an envoy from the Central Continent!"

  Another man with a serious face put down his chopsticks. "You mean the envoy from the Thousand Heavens Sect? Aren't they the sect protected by the Hongmeng Empire?"

  "Exactly!" the first man answered proudly, glancing around as if holding the biggest secret. "The Hongmeng Empire is the ruler of the five continents of the Xingluo Plain! And the Thousand Heavens Sect envoy is coming to select ten geniuses! They are looking for Dragon seeds to cultivate!"

  A third man, who had been silent, sneered. "I also heard that the city lords of the Southern Continent will gather in Green Cloud City! The children of the city lords will surely scramble to enter that sect! Whoever enters there, their life is secured—without needing to worry about petty enemies."

  Zhi Xuan listened to the conversation with sharp attention. The rest of the noodle soup in his bowl immediately felt cold. Green Cloud City was becoming more interesting, and at the same time, much more dangerous. The envoy of the Thousand Heavens Sect. The name itself carried the weight of power that transcended mortal continents.

  The Hongmeng Empire—the ruler of the five Xingluo Plains—was an entity with a solid foundation, towering above the smaller Mortal Sects. The Thousand Heavens Sect, protected by that Empire, must hold pure Dao and countless resources.

  The opportunity to enter such a Sect was the dream of every young cultivator in the Southern Continent—a chance to leap from a narrow well into the ocean of stars. Zhi Xuan clenched his jaw. This information changed everything.

  He did not care about the Hongmeng Empire or the Dao of the Thousand Heavens Sect. He only saw the opportunity: Protection, Resources, and Knowledge—the three necessities he desperately craved to suppress the Devil Seed and purify his Spiritual Blood.

  If he joined a Sect with Imperial support, he would gain precious time for cultivation, protected from countless disturbances. They might even possess techniques, cultivation paths, and vast knowledge of the Heavenly Dao.

  Zhi Xuan lifted the bowl of noodle soup and finished the remaining broth to the last drop. The Old Man next to him, whose eyes now shone with the anticipation of gossip, immediately nudged him again.

  "Young Master, did you hear that? Thousand Heavens Sect! You must go there! You are handsome and elegant. You will surely be accepted!" the Old Man whispered excitedly.

  Zhi Xuan smiled politely. "Old Man, I heard it. Do you know exactly when the envoy will arrive?"

  "Three months from now! That's plenty of time to go to Green Cloud City and prepare! The city will be crowded with geniuses from all over the Southern Continent. You must hurry, young one!"

  Zhi Xuan nodded, ignoring the remnants of the mortal conversation. Three months. Enough time to reach Green Cloud City, obtain the Sun Falling Leaf, concoct the Blood Bone Pill, and stabilize his realm. After that, he would evaluate the best way to become a suitable candidate for the Thousand Heavens Sect.

  He stood up, paid for his bowl of noodle soup, and gave a few extra silver pieces to the stall owner as a tip. The dumpling incident had given him more than just food; it had given him a clear roadmap and destination.