She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 49

Yan Luoyue thought to herself: Unbelievable, the Thousand-Faced Demon is right beside me!

Time was of the essence, so Yan Luoyue decided to take advantage of Zhen Zhuo'er's gift of medicinal pills and begin her Foundation Establishment immediately.

After a brief consideration, she first sent a message to Yin Wangyou.

Next, she needed to find a suitable guardian for the process.

As luck would have it, Yan Gan and Sang Ji had come over to her house after school that day.

Yan Luoyue stepped outside and saw her two goofy older brothers there, so she promptly asked them to stand guard outside her door.

Soon after, she retreated to her inner chamber, closed the door, and held the golden-red Foundation Establishment Pill between her fingers, examining it closely before placing it in her mouth.

The high-grade Foundation Establishment Pill truly lived up to its reputation as a luxury item—not only did it excel in potency and quality, but it even had its flavor carefully controlled.

Logically speaking, Foundation Establishment Pills should taste bitter.

However, the one Yan Luoyue consumed melted instantly upon entering her mouth, its silver medicinal patterns dissolving into a sweet-and-sour sensation that made her mouth water.

She chewed a few times and impartially judged the taste: If one ignored its appearance and only focused on the flavor, this pill could easily pass as a hawthorn berry candy.

Damn it, how many extra ingredients must have gone into this?

Even in the final moments before entering deep meditation, a trace of indignation lingered in Yan Luoyue’s heart.

—Rich bastards! Even a bitter Foundation Establishment Pill could be made this delicious, to the point where it surpassed her own sweet and delightful pastries!

The next instant, the surging medicinal energy coursed through her meridians, capturing her full attention.

From Qi Refining to Foundation Establishment, the spiritual energy in her dantian transformed from a gaseous state into a liquid one, elevating her cultivation to a higher level and increasing her reserves of spiritual power.

The medicinal energy split into two streams, flowing through Yan Luoyue’s meridians and spreading throughout her body.

One stream ascended to the Muddy Pellet Palace between her brows, clearing her mind and sharpening her senses.

The other descended to her dantian, where it skillfully merged with her innate spiritual energy, applying an external-to-internal pressure to the swirling vortex of energy stored there.

It was said that ordinary Foundation Establishment Pills not only tasted bitter but also had a neutral and balanced medicinal nature.

But the one Yan Luoyue had taken, despite its warm golden-red appearance, clearly leaned toward a yin-cold nature.

After a moment of contemplation, realization struck her.

—Wait a minute, isn’t this just the same principle as creating liquid nitrogen under low-temperature, high-pressure conditions?

Middle school physics knowledge reminded Yan Luoyue that there were two main ways to turn gas into liquid.

One was to lower the temperature, causing the gas to liquefy.

The other was to increase the pressure, forcing the gas to condense under high pressure.

Who would have thought that even in the world of cultivation, such fundamental principles still applied?

If Newton knew about this, he’d probably shout from his grave that his coffin lid had snapped shut again.

While guiding the medicinal energy to gather and compress spiritual energy from the air, Yan Luoyue allowed a few absurd thoughts to flit through her mind.

Judging by the current situation, advancing to Foundation Establishment was essentially transforming the dantian from a simple gas storage tool into a bioenergy pressure pump, wasn’t it?

No, she couldn’t dwell on this.

After all, terms like Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, Golden Core, and Nascent Soul already carried an ethereal, otherworldly aura.

But if she tried to explain the process scientifically…

The Qi Refining stage could be called a "gas collection flask."

The Foundation Establishment stage could be renamed a "bioenergy pressure pump."

By the Golden Core stage, when cultivators condensed spiritual liquid into a golden core, wouldn’t that make it "charcoal-roasted yogurt solidification technology"?

And what about the Nascent Soul stage?—"A Treatise on Press Machines and Mold Processing"?

No way, the cringe factor was skyrocketing!

Having secretly assigned new names to the cultivation ranks, Yan Luoyue’s little naming hobby was finally satisfied.

While indulging in this, she had also been consciously absorbing spiritual energy without pause.

With the pill’s assistance, vast amounts of spiritual energy accumulated in her dantian, gradually forming a dense, rapidly spinning vortex.

As the vortex grew increasingly viscous, the spiritual energy completed its first transformation from gas to liquid.

Then came the second step, the third…

Finally, after half a shichen, Yan Luoyue opened her eyes, feeling an unprecedented surge of power coursing through her body.

She stood up and took a few steps, finding her movements lighter than usual.

Indeed, if Yan Luoyue were a sword cultivator, reaching Foundation Establishment would mean she could now learn sword flight.

But instead of immediately testing her new abilities, her first action after rising was to walk over to the full-length mirror and examine her reflection.

Her eyes were darker and brighter, her skin radiant, and her complexion even more naturally rosy.

Even the tiny crescents beneath the pink nails of her outstretched hands looked adorable.

The girl in the mirror was the picture of health.

But none of these were Yan Luoyue’s main focus.

Her attention was fixed on the HP bar floating above her head.

"It ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‍didn’t get longer…" she murmured with a hint of disappointment.

It seemed the length of her HP bar was indeed tied only to her age and not her cultivation level.

She had originally hoped that if her life value gained an extra zero, she could finally go retrieve the little snake.

But now, it seemed she’d have to wait patiently until winter, after her fifth birthday.

…Speaking of which, didn’t snakes hibernate?

Yan Luoyue blinked a couple of times, musing to herself: Wu Manshuang probably doesn’t hibernate, right?

If he did, wouldn’t picking up a stiff, jade-like little snake be the equivalent of a zero-dollar "kidnapping instead of purchasing" scheme?

Hmm… but now that she thought about it, that did sound kind of thrilling…

In a corner of her mind, Yan Luoyue’s thoughts were veering dangerously toward criminal territory.

The lazy golden light of dusk had just begun to gild the faded wooden window frames. The magnificent hues painted the world in a resplendent glow, softening even the smiling reflection in the arched window like a dreamy filter.

When Yan Luoyue stepped outside, she saw her two brothers waiting for her in the embrace of that beautiful sunset.

With their little sister undergoing a breakthrough, the two goofballs had, for once, refrained from roughhousing.

They stood like door gods on either side, vigilantly guarding the room’s entrance.

Yan Gan and Sang Ji had both reverted to their demon beast forms—a crocodile and a dark green turtle, quietly sprawled across Yan Luoyue’s doorstep.

Under the late autumn sunset, the crocodile’s bony ridges and the turtle’s shell shimmered with faint golden reflections.

Time had graced this little courtyard with tenderness, and memory would preserve this scene forever.

Before she even realized it, Yan Luoyue was already wearing a bright smile.

For some reason, her heart felt overwhelmingly warm at this moment.

In response to the crocodile and turtle’s greetings, Yan Luoyue also transformed into a small turtle, leisurely climbing onto Yan Gan’s shell and patting his back with her tiny claw.

"Don’t worry, it was a success. I’m a Foundation Establishment cultivator now."

Yan Gan immediately breathed a sigh of relief. "Then when spring comes, we can both advance to the Yuan class together. No one will bully my little sister anymore."

Yan Luoyue shook her head helplessly. "How do you still remember that?"

Sang Ji slapped the ground with his claws, vigorously expressing his dissatisfaction.

"Little sister, don’t play favorites. Isn’t my true form flatter than your brother’s? Isn’t my back smoother than your brother’s? Isn’t my height easier to climb than your brother’s?"

"...Brother Ji, you can’t just force a comparison like that. There’s a whole species gap between crocodiles and turtles."

Most importantly, the bony spikes on a crocodile’s back—they poke your claws!

Even as she said this, Yan Luoyue still clambered over to Sang Ji’s side, ready to pick a smoother spot on his back to climb.

Noticing Yan Luoyue’s current predicament, Sang Ji was quick to oblige. He lazily rolled over, exposing his pale, smooth belly.

"..."

After a moment of thought, Yan Luoyue tentatively raised a claw and placed it on the crocodile’s belly, giving it a cautious poke.

Then, she boldly swiped her claws across it a couple of times.

"How is it?" Sang Ji asked smugly. "Doesn’t it feel even better than a turtle shell? Your Brother Ji is famously the most handsome crocodile around."

As he spoke, Sang Ji lowered his head and met Yan Luoyue’s round little eyes.

...Though it sounded utterly unbelievable, Sang Ji could swear he saw an unmistakable look of subtle judgment on the little turtle’s face.

"Well, uh, how should I put this..." Yan Luoyue stroked the crocodile’s white belly as she carefully chose her words. "It definitely feels like leather shoes!"

Sang Ji: "...Huh?"

Was there something wrong with his ears?

Did he just... hear something utterly outrageous?

Not long after, as the sky gradually darkened, Sang Ji reluctantly left the turtle clan, still not having had his fill of fun.

Meanwhile, Yin Wangyou, having received Yan Luoyue’s message, rushed over as fast as she could—driving magical artifacts and even renting a crane to speed her journey.

Shortly after Yin Wangyou arrived, Yan Yu pushed open the door to Yan Luoyue’s bedroom, carrying a small bowl of fried fish.

The moment she saw an unfamiliar girl in the room, Yan Yu froze in surprise.

"Sister Yu, this is Wangyou, my friend."

Yan Luoyue raised her hands high and immediately jumped up from the floor to take the bowl of fish from Yan Yu.

"It smells amazing, thank you, Sister Yu."

"No problem. I didn’t know you had a guest. I’ll go fry some more for you two."

Yan Yu patted Yan Luoyue’s head and glanced at the darkening sky outside.

Though this was their first meeting, just a few glances were enough for Yan Yu to tell that Yan Luoyue’s new friend was human.

Among the demon races, two-thirds were night owls, but humans were the exact opposite.

Since this girl had come so late, she was probably staying the night.

With a gentle smile, Yan Yu said leisurely,

"I’ll bring you another blanket—if you need anything else, just let Luoyue know, okay?"

The moment the door closed behind Yan Yu, Yin Wangyou swiftly snatched a piece of fried fish and popped it into her mouth.

The rich, savory flavor burst on her tongue, and she couldn’t help but sigh. "Your sister is so nice."

Yan Yu’s thoughtfulness was impeccable.

But what she didn’t know was that Yan Luoyue and Yin Wangyou planned to pull an all-nighter—blankets wouldn’t be necessary.

Indeed, Yan Luoyue had invited Yin Wangyou over for one purpose: to dissect the Thousand-Faced Demon together and find a way to track it.

According to common knowledge in the cultivation world, Thousand-Faced Demons emitted extremely faint demonic energy, making them untraceable. But Yan Luoyue refused to accept that.

If the lord of Chiyu City dared to make this the first challenge, he must have already figured out a way to track them.

Since someone had solved it, the problem was solvable. And when it came to artifact forging, Yan Luoyue never backed down easily.

...

Yan Luoyue and Yin Wangyou pushed two tables together to create a makeshift dissection platform.

The flattened corpse of the Thousand-Faced Demon was spread out on the surface, resembling a puddle of pale gray jelly.

Yin Wangyou’s fingers traced every inch of the demon’s meridians and bones, occasionally inserting a silver needle as a marker.

As night deepened, the lamplight in the room grew dimmer.

"It’s not bright enough."

Yin Wangyou shook out her hands and straightened up, squinting like an old man squinting at his phone on the subway—as if she’d turned into a walking meme.

"Black is murder on the eyes. Luoyue, light a few more lamps."

Yan Luoyue was about to suggest forging a couple of bright light orbs on the spot when Yin Wangyou continued.

Now, Yin Wangyou could swear she said the next words purely out of academic rigor and objective evaluation.

But...

Yin Wangyou said, "If you don’t have enough lamps at home, just have Shen Jingxuan come hold a candle for us. At least her forehead can reflect some light."

Yan Luoyue: "..."

Oh dear.

Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but whisper a warning. "Don’t let Jingxuan hear you, or you’ll be in for a da-da-da."

The last person who dared to question why Shen Jingxuan, a bald nun, even needed hairpins was that leader from the Lu family.

And now? His grave grass was almost as tall as Yin Wangyou.

Later, the Lu family sent people to collect the leader’s body and buried him in a modest mound.

Not long ago, while taking a stroll outside the clan grounds, Yan Luoyue happened upon the leader’s unmarked grave.

Out of humanitarian spirit, she even erected a tombstone for him.

Considering the leader’s fundamental cause of death—attempting to take Yan Luoyue hostage—

And his direct cause of death—three artifacts forged by Yan Luoyue herself:

1. The Wooden Hairpin: "Xiao Ming’s Reservoir"

2. The Treasure-Seeking Compass: "Little Darlings"

3. The Beaded Necklace: "Ma ○ and I Have an Average Net Worth of 100 Billion"

—With these in mind, Yan Luoyue personally inscribed the words "Learn One Thing, Infer Three More" as his epitaph.

As she forged light orbs for Yin Wangyou, Yan Luoyue recounted this story.

At the end, she concluded:

"So remember: don’t call a monk ‘baldy,’ don’t compliment a nun on her reflective forehead, and never order turtle jelly as dessert in front of the turtle clan."

"—Wangyou, do you understand now just how terrifying Jingxuan’s da-da-da can be?"

Yin Wangyou: "..."

In the middle of dissecting the Thousand-Faced Demon, Yin Wangyou paused to give Yan Luoyue a long, deep look.

With complete sincerity and not a hint of jest, she replied, "Right now, I think your naming skills are far more terrifying!"

Yan Luoyue: "..."

Yan Luoyue forged four or five luminous orbs on the spot.

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With the new light sources, Yin Wangyou’s research proceeded smoothly.

As she worked, she continued explaining to Yan Luoyue.

Yin Wangyou usually spoke neither too much nor too little, but when it came to her favorite subjects, her eyes would sparkle, and the words would pour out.

"This Thousand-Faced Demon must be somewhat old—probably past its prime youth."

Yan Luoyue was curious: "How can you tell?"

Yin Wangyou spoke with certainty: "There are always traces that give it away."

Though young, her tone became authoritative when discussing her expertise.

"To determine a tree's age, examine its rings. To know a turtle's age, look at its shell. To gauge a person's years, inspect their teeth and bones."

"Experience and time always leave marks, and these hidden clues beneath the ordinary are the basis of our diagnoses."

As she spoke, Yin Wangyou finally inserted the last silver needle between her fingers.

She then picked up a silver scalpel, carefully piercing the epidermis of the Thousand-Faced Demon and extracting a shimmering thread from its translucent gray gelatinous flesh.

If not for the bright lighting in the room and the keen eyesight of cultivators, Yan Luoyue might not have even noticed the existence of that fine filament.

It was only a hundredth the thickness of a hair. Had Yin Wangyou not been meticulously enveloping it with spiritual energy, the slightest touch might have snapped it.

"Look!" Yin Wangyou lowered her voice but couldn’t suppress her excitement. "This is the Thousand-Faced Demon’s meridian—what it uses to control its shape-shifting. It’s also how I determine its age."

As she spoke, Yin Wangyou carefully took a bit of the gelatinous substance from the corpse and attached it to the thread.

Then, she channeled a wisp of spiritual energy into it.

Yan Luoyue watched as, under the energy’s influence, the meridian gradually shortened, its surface thickened, and the evenly distributed gelatinous muscle formed a bulge.

In an instant, understanding dawned on her.

"I get it! The Thousand-Faced Demon uses these meridians to manipulate the fluid beneath its skin, making it gather or disperse to mimic different appearances, right?"

The principle was simple.

Like stretching a rubber band to make it lighter or compressing it to darken its color, the Thousand-Faced Demon directed spiritual energy into its meridians, causing the fluid to condense nearby.

Dozens of such meridians working together could craft a lifelike hooked nose.

Hundreds or thousands operating in unison allowed the demon to simulate different heights, builds, and human faces.

Seeing Yan Luoyue grasp the concept so quickly, Yin Wangyou’s eyes sparkled with even greater enthusiasm.

"Exactly. The more meridians it has, the older the demon is." Yin Wangyou’s scalpel moved with increasing caution, delving deeper into the gelatinous mass.

If the meridians were like pipes, then at their end must lie a master valve controlling them all.

While Yin Wangyou eagerly explored the demon’s secrets, Yan Luoyue cradled the meridian, her mind racing.

Let her think—the reason Thousand-Faced Demons were so hard to detect was their faint demonic energy, making them nearly indistinguishable, right?

The conventional approach among artifact refiners had always been to enhance detection sensitivity, not missing even a trace of demonic energy in a footprint.

An ideal solution—but no one had succeeded yet.

But what if they tried a different approach?

If detection targeted only Thousand-Faced Demons and not other fiends, they could focus on the demon’s unique traits… such as these peculiar meridians.

Or better yet—

"I found it!"

Despite the late hour, Yin Wangyou showed no signs of fatigue.

Clutching two masses in her hands, she jumped in excitement, a far cry from her usual composed demeanor.

"In my left hand is the core the demon uses to control its color changes—likely a unique organ."

"In my right is the core that regulates the spiritual energy flow in its meridians, functioning like our dantian."

The two masses looked nearly identical to the gray gelatinous flesh, leaving Yan Luoyue amazed at how Yin Wangyou had distinguished them.

Truly, mastery lay in specialization.

If Yan Luoyue had dissected the demon, she’d have been lucky to extract a stomach intact.

Holding her breath, Yin Wangyou carefully shifted her right hand.

Hundreds of glimmering threads stretched between the demon’s corpse and the gray gelatinous mass, resembling the silky strands of a sliced lotus root.

…Yan Luoyue decided she wouldn’t be eating lotus root for at least three days.

Reluctantly handing the two masses to Yan Luoyue, Yin Wangyou tore her gaze away with visible difficulty.

Whether as a healer or alchemist, these organs held immense research value…

But when she looked up at Yan Luoyue, her typically impassive eyes held a smile.

"Take them," Yin Wangyou urged brightly. "Go win with them!"

Though artifact refiners and alchemists specialized in different fields, their pursuit of mastery shone just as brilliantly.

From the moment she received the news, Yin Wangyou had rushed over without delay.

She had worked tirelessly through the night, needles and scalpels in hand, her eyes aching but her resolve unshaken.

This wasn’t just due to her own thirst for knowledge—but because Yan Luoyue was her friend and fellow seeker.

In the art of refinement, neither had ever stopped exploring, each striving to reach greater heights.

They exchanged insights, admired each other’s craft.

Two days later, the black-robed artifact refiner Yan Bixin appeared punctually at Ruyi City’s gates.

Instead of heading straight to the City Lord's Mansion, he first wandered the city, listening to the latest rumors.

Unsurprisingly, tales of Chiyu City’s Lord Meng Zhun rudely interrupting the birthday banquet three days prior had spread like wildfire.

Some claimed the Zhen and Meng families had an old feud, and Lord Meng had come seeking vengeance.

Others whispered that Lord Meng coveted Zhen Zhuo'er’s beauty and had come to force a marriage.

The two theories intertwined, eventually birthing a third variant:

Lord Meng had come both for revenge and to forcibly wed Zhen Zhuo'er—his vengeance being the act of taking her as his wife.

Yan Luoyue: "…"

She realized gossip truly knew no bounds, twisting facts into the most melodramatic tales.

Just look at the recently deceased Lu Jindu.

If Lord Meng’s thought process really operated at that level, then in three years, Zhen Zhuo'er could happily serve as the ruler of both cities.

After a full circuit of Ruyi City, Yan Luoyue had heard over a dozen variations of the rumor.

But what intrigued her most was that the true origin—the artifact refining competition between the two cities—hadn’t leaked at all.

Under the shadow of her cloak, Yan Luoyue pensively pursed her lips.

That subtle unease she had felt since receiving the news now grew even heavier.

The City Lord of Chiyu had made such a grand spectacle of barging in, yet his subsequent actions were as meek as a quail.

If Yan Luoyue were in Meng Zhun’s position, she would have been absolutely confident in the outcome of the artifact-forging competition and would have spread the news far and wide beforehand to thoroughly humiliate her opponent.

Yet, apart from his initial flamboyant entrance—where he arrogantly crashed through the roof in front of everyone—Meng Zhun had done nothing else outrageous.

This behavior was completely at odds with the traits he had displayed.

Either Zhen Zhuo’er’s influence was so formidable that even the mighty City Lord of Chiyu found himself stranded in shallow waters, powerless to act—

Or Meng Zhun had deliberately refrained from publicizing the news, making concessions in this regard.

Between these two possibilities, Yan Luoyue leaned toward the latter.

But it didn’t make sense.

It was almost as if… while Meng Zhun had aggressively staked the reputations of both cities on this competition, the artifact-forging contest itself wasn’t what he truly cared about.

A thought flickered through Yan Luoyue’s mind, slipping away like sand through her fingers.

For some reason, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Meng Zhun’s goal might be something far more unexpected.

…………

The moment the black-robed artificer stepped into the hall, Meng Zhun, seated in his grand chair, sprang to his feet.

“You’ve finally arrived!”

The petulant urgency in his tone was almost comical. Beneath her hood, Yan Luoyue smirked and retorted dryly,

“Indeed, I’m truly a heartless villain for keeping you waiting.”

“……”

Meng Zhun choked on her words, his expression twisting.

The moment he took in Yan Bixin’s appearance, undisguised disappointment and disdain flashed in his eyes.

“What’s this? Some greenhorn? I heard Ruyi City had a master artificer.”

Even without seeing beneath the cloak, Zhen Zhuo’er swiftly shot a glance in Yan Luoyue’s direction.

—During their earlier discussions, they had considered the possibility that Meng Zhun might actually be after Yan Bixin’s rumored master.

Given his current reaction, that likelihood had just skyrocketed.

The black-robed artificer remained unruffled. “As the saying goes, why use a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken? My master thinks I’m too unskilled, so he sent me to compete with you.”

Meng Zhun snorted heavily at that.

In the brief exchange since their meeting, every word between them had been laced with hostility, leaving the onlookers tense.

With a sharp flick of his sleeve, Meng Zhun turned to the others. “My time is precious. Stop wasting it. Announce the rules so we can begin.”

Zhen Zhuo’er smiled serenely, utterly unbothered by his attitude.

“In that case, we’ll proceed as agreed—best of three rounds?” she said gently. “Please, Master and City Lord, write down your chosen challenges.”

The competition’s format had been settled two days prior between Zhen Zhuo’er and Meng Zhun.

The first round’s challenge would be set by Meng Zhun, the second by Yan Bixin.

As for the third, both would craft their own signature masterpiece.

Meng Zhun’s challenge had already been announced earlier; now it was merely being transcribed again.

As for Yan Bixin’s…

Meng Zhun scanned the slip of paper, then shot a skeptical look at the cloaked figure.

“…Your challenge for the second round is for both of us to forge a set of ‘Monster Slayer’?”

Yan Bixin replied leisurely, “Problem?”

Meng Zhun: “…No.”

Yan Luoyue chuckled but said nothing more.

She knew that in a competition where each side set one challenge, the topic chosen had to play to their strengths—ensuring victory.

But winning wasn’t just about skill in forging. The judging criteria mattered just as much.

For example, if two artificers were equally matched, but one specialized in musical instruments while the other excelled in weapons—

And the challenge was to craft an iron pipa—

If judged on musical quality, the first would win.

But if the criteria demanded that the pipa be durable enough for a body cultivator to smash enemies’ skulls with, victory would go to the latter.

Yan Luoyue hadn’t chosen Monster Slayer to show off.

It was because, as its creator, she held absolute authority over its evaluation standards.

Meng Zhun gave the black-robed artificer a strange look but refrained from mockery.

Though his left eye clearly said, “Are you messing with me?” and his right eye screamed, “Ruyi City is doomed.”

Yan Luoyue noted his reaction.

Oddly, she sensed something like… disappointment in him.

And so, the first match began—quietly, under an almost eerie atmosphere.

The audience numbered barely twenty.

Aside from Zhen Zhuo’er and her aides, Meng Zhun’s entourage, and the pair of crane scribe brothers, there was no one else.

This high-stakes contest, where both sides had wagered vast wealth and their cities’ reputations, had a turnout smaller than a back-alley brawl.

Meng Zhun was the first to unveil his forging furnace.

The cauldron bore the marks of long use—its once-uniform violet copper body now graded into three distinct shades from years of heat.

The base was darkest, fading upward.

At the sight, Yan Luoyue’s estimation of Meng Zhun rose.

If he had been the sole user of this furnace, the sheer experience alone would have made him a formidable artificer.

Next, Meng Zhun summoned his flame—a vibrant green oddfire.

Cradled in his palm, the half-foot-tall blaze crackled like a spiny cactus, its “thud-thud” combustion dominating the air.

In contrast, Yan Bixin’s pristine furnace and the delicate pink ember flickering at her fingertips seemed utterly outmatched in sheer presence.

Meng Zhun cast a glance at the black-robed figure and scoffed audibly.

“There’s still time to back out,” he said to Yan Bixin and Zhen Zhuo’er. “If you’re scared, go fetch a real master.”

—This was his second attempt to get Yan Bixin replaced by her supposed mentor.

Beneath her hood, Yan Luoyue shook her head. If only he knew—even if “Yan Bixin’s master” showed up, it’d be like swapping Wang Lao Ji’s packaging for Jia Duo Bao’s: same product, different label.

The black-robed artificer stood firm, chuckling hoarsely. “If I left just because you said so, wouldn’t that make me look weak?”

“……”

Meng Zhun’s brow furrowed so deeply it seemed he had run out of words for this infuriating youth.

The two parties each began forging their artifacts. Yan Luoyue skillfully scattered small flames into a shower of glittering pink stars, casting them into the furnace like celestial blossoms. This move served both as an opening gesture and an unabashed display of skill.

In contrast, Meng Zhun looked utterly disinterested, shoving flames into the furnace like a street vendor roasting sweet potatoes. He might as well have grabbed a palm-leaf fan and waved it at the vent for good measure.

Yan Luoyue glanced at Meng Zhun out of the corner of her eye, never pausing in her work.

For the three matches, participants were to bring their own materials. Yan Luoyue had previously provided Ruyi City with a detailed list—spotless sand, heart-entwined dodder, guiding stars—one after another, she tossed them into the furnace, melting them into liquid with ever-shifting techniques, shaking out impurities, and guiding them into fusion with spiritual energy.

The preparatory steps were complete. Now, only the final and most crucial step remained: quenching.

With great solemnity, Yan Luoyue retrieved one last material from her storage pouch.

All other materials had been provided by Ruyi City—only the core component was her own contribution.

It was the nerve cluster of a Thousand-Faced Demon.

The silvery threads of the nerves were cast into the furnace. Before the heat could even melt them, they were seamlessly absorbed by the forming artifact.

With a final hand seal, Yan Luoyue completed her work, extinguishing the flames and opening the furnace.

Now that her own piece was finished, she finally had the leisure to observe Meng Zhun’s craftsmanship.

No matter how masterful one’s skills, there was always something to learn from others.

Moreover, Yan Luoyue was deeply curious—had Meng Zhun approached this challenge the same way she had?

A single glance left her utterly speechless, her eyelid twitching violently.

If not for the constraints of decorum, she might have grabbed the Chiyu City Lord by the collar and shaken him, demanding to know if he’d lost his mind.

Buddy, I’m here giving my all in this forging competition.

And you? You’re out here smelting steel like a back-alley blacksmith?

Just look at that feeble flame control, that half-hearted quenching technique—it was like catching moths and calling them UFOs, a blatant farce.

Given how shamelessly he was slacking, Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but question his motives.

If not for the fact that the Chiyu City Lord had invested considerable resources into this exchange, she might have accused him of freeloading and stealing techniques!

As Yan Luoyue sealed her furnace, Meng Zhun waved a hand, extinguishing his flames as well.

In the next moment, the black-robed artificer flicked open his furnace lid and retrieved a delicate, silvery net.

Meanwhile, Meng Zhun…

Meng Zhun gave his furnace a violent smack, prying out a lump of blackened slag.

Even an amateur like Zhen Zhuo’er could tell he had botched it.

Lacking even a basic shape—this was a mistake even a novice wouldn’t make.

Zhen Zhuo’er subtly sidled two steps to the left, edging closer to the black-robed artificer, and smoothly interjected:

"Since both parties have completed their work, the outcome should now be clear."

She smiled sweetly at the black-robed artificer, ready to declare their victory outright—only for Meng Zhun to cut her off.

"—No, wait."

The Chiyu City Lord didn’t spare Zhen Zhuo’er a glance, his gaze practically glued to the large net Yan Luoyue had forged.

"The contest was to determine who could craft an artifact capable of identifying a Thousand-Faced Demon. If it hasn’t been tested, how can we declare a winner?"

Zhen Zhuo’er’s smile faltered. "My Lord, you’re being unreasonable. Everyone knows the demon that infiltrated Yunning Great Marsh was captured three days ago during the birthday banquet."

"Must you insist on verifying the artifact’s efficacy? Shall we send someone into the demon-sealing grounds to fetch another Thousand-Faced Demon?"

Meng Zhun shook his head, ignoring her question.

Instead, he addressed the black-robed artificer directly. "Young Friend Yan, might you demonstrate how your artifact is used?"

It was strange—just moments ago, he’d been calling Yan Bixin a "brat," yet now he’d switched to "Young Friend Yan."

Not only that, but his voice was noticeably tighter, a hidden intensity simmering beneath his calm tone.

The moment Meng Zhun spoke, Yan Luoyue’s right hand—hidden beneath her robes—immediately adorned itself with seven or eight defensive bracelets.

Meanwhile, her left hand leisurely unfurled the silvery net.

"During the forging process, I incorporated many detection and tracking materials, and during quenching, I fused in the Thousand-Faced Demon’s nerves. This artifact can only locate Thousand-Faced Demons, and its range isn’t vast. Simply channel spiritual energy into it—"

Before she could finish, the net, infused with her demonstration energy, shot out on its own!

It descended from above, ensnaring one of Meng Zhun’s subordinates in a tight embrace!

In that instant, different thoughts flashed through everyone’s minds.

Yan Luoyue thought: Unbelievable. The demon was right beside us all along!

Zhen Zhuo’er thought: Huh? Wait, is the master turning the tables, forcing the Chiyu City Lord into a corner? A bold move—we’ll counter whatever he does. Though it’s risky; if he loses his temper, things could get ugly.

She subtly gestured for her trusted aides to move closer to the black-robed artificer.

The two crane brothers barely glanced up before burying their heads in their notes, their writing brushes practically sparking from speed.

As for Meng Zhun—he whipped around, first staring at his ensnared subordinate, then fixing the black-robed artificer with a look of shock.

Beneath the dark cloak, the chime of jade ornaments rang clear.

The young man stood tall, hands clasped behind his back, his face obscured by shadow like an unfathomable reef beneath dark waters.

Meng Zhun’s lips trembled slightly, his eyes brimming with an emotion Yan Luoyue couldn’t decipher.

At that moment, no one could have guessed that the melodious jade chimes weren’t from waist ornaments—but rather from Yan Luoyue continuing to stack defensive bracelets onto her arm.

She’d already reached twenty-six, her elbow now too laden to bend.

Though Yan Bixin hid beneath a cloak and generally prioritized survival over pride, artificers still had reputations to uphold. In situations like this, keeping one’s hands discreetly behind the back was only proper.

Then, in the next heartbeat—Meng Zhun moved.

He took a step toward the black-robed artificer—not in fury, but in reverence.

The Chiyu City Lord lowered his head, then dropped to his knees with a resounding thud!

Yan Luoyue hastily sidestepped.

With tears in his voice, Meng Zhun proclaimed: "Master, you have bestowed upon Chiyu City a kindness as weighty as Mount Tai!"

In an instant, the tension shattered.

Yet disbelief and bewilderment bloomed across every face in the room.