The purple light was not static; it was like some viscous resin, slowly seeping into the gaps between Su Ming's bones.

The air atop the Heart-Questioning Platform had been compressed to its limit, emitting a teeth-grating creaking sound. Su Ming's spine was bent into a bow on the verge of snapping. Sweat had just begun to seep from his pores when it was instantly vaporized by the intense heat, leaving only a white layer of salt frost on his skin.

And in the deepest part of his soul, that desperate gamble was entering its final stage.

*Crack.*

That crisp sound didn't resemble the snapping of metal, but rather the sound of bark from a tree that had dried for a hundred years being casually peeled off by a mischievous child.

Under the violent purple spiritual sense drill of the Punishment Peak elder, the outermost "ordinary iron" shell of the Xuantian ring—meticulously disguised by Su Ming and mixed with Spirit-Cleansing Water and dust—finally could not hold any longer.

Fragments fell like black snowflakes, rustling down, turning into wisps of turbid gray smoke in the air before they even hit the ground.

The purple light in the old woman's eyes flared brilliantly, her withered wooden cane almost touching the surface of the bronze mirror. "Show your true form to this old woman!"

As the final layer of disguise was stripped away, the ring finally revealed its "true appearance."

There was no imagined dazzling golden light of a divine artifact emerging, nor a surging sea of blood from an awakening demonic weapon.

It was a ring of an extremely dull color. Its material was neither metal nor wood, presenting a deep, oxidized blackish-brown hue left by the passage of time. The ring's surface was covered with countless hair-thin scratches, marks left by time itself. Only on the inner circle of the ring could a few naturally formed dark spots faintly be seen, like age spots on an old person's skin.

Ordinary.

Even ugly, one might say.

Yet, the instant this layer of ordinariness was fully exposed to the air, a sudden, bizarre change occurred.

*Hiss—*

An extremely faint, yet clearly audible sound of airflow pierced the eardrums of everyone present.

With Su Ming's left hand as the center, the air within a three-foot radius suddenly became viscous. The ambient spiritual energy that had been firmly suppressed by the old woman's oppressive aura now acted like sharks smelling blood, defying physical laws, frantically and greedily surging towards that ugly ring.

The spiritual energy formed a miniature vortex visible to the naked eye above the ring.

At the vortex's center, the spiritual energy was mysteriously transformed. Though the quantity was small, it was an incredibly pure and gentle soul power, flowing like a trickling stream, replenishing Su Ming's Consciousness Sea, which was already on the verge of drying up.

"Hmm?"

The old woman's movements suddenly halted. A flash of astonishment passed through her turbid old eyes.

This ring... is protecting its master?

Before she could fully process it, the ring trembled once more.

A ripple, almost transparent, like a drop of water falling into a calm lake, silently spread outwards.

The ripple swept over the old woman's domineering purple spiritual sense, emitting a sizzling sound, as if a hot iron had been plunged into a snowdrift. Immediately after, an extremely chaotic, icy, and nauseatingly rotten aura surged forth from the depths of the ring.

This aura was mixed with resentment, malice, and greed—the residual dregs of obsession left behind by the previous masters who had died tragic deaths, deliberately released by Lin Yu at this very moment.

The black murderous aura, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue, darted left and right within the purple cocoon of light, hissing menacingly.

Yet, behind that scalp-tingling murderous aura, there was an extremely abrupt, faint sigh as soft as a mosquito's hum.

"...The place of return..."

The voice was that of a woman, ethereal as if separated by countless ages, carrying an ultimate weariness and peace born of seeing through the vicissitudes of life.

These two diametrically opposed auras—the most sinister, evil murderous aura and the most pure, clean sigh of peace—were absurdly entangled together, creating an impact that could confuse one's very soul.

"What kind of devilry is this?!"

The old woman's expression changed drastically. Instinctively, she wanted to withdraw her spiritual sense, only to discover that the ring had generated a bizarre suction force, attempting to reverse-swallow her spiritual sense along its own connection!

At this critical juncture.

"Stand down."

"Halt."

Two voices sounded almost simultaneously.

The former was as warm and gentle as jade, sounding in the ears like a spring breeze caressing the face. Wherever it passed, the chaotic currents of spiritual energy, the icy murderous aura, and even the purple cocoon of light seemed to be smoothed by an invisible hand, instantly solidifying and quieting down. The latter was cold and sharp as ice, carrying the indisputable authority of law. As if words became law, it directly "severed" the bizarre suction force attempting to reverse-erode.

It was as if the space on either side of the Heart-Questioning Platform had been torn open like a fold in fabric.

Two figures, one in azure, one in black, stood in mid-air as if they had always been there.

The person on the left wore a white Daoist robe with cloud patterns, his face scholarly and elegant, with a touch of frost at his temples. There was not the slightest fluctuation of spiritual energy around him, yet he seemed to be one with the heavens, earth, mountains, and rivers. This was none other than the Sect Leader of Cloud Hidden Sect, Yun Miao.

The person on the right wore a black law-enforcement robe, his face cold, stern, and imposing, with a cinnabar-red dot between his eyebrows that was glaringly bright. Visible black chains of law swirled around his body. This was the Peak Master of Punishment Peak, Cui Yan.

The moment they appeared, the gazes of both men were locked onto the ring on Su Ming's finger, which was still rhythmically inhaling and exhaling spiritual energy and soul essence.

"Sect Leader... Peak Master..."

The old woman who had been presiding over the formation stiffened, hurriedly retracting her cane. Not bothering to wipe the cold sweat from her forehead, she took several steps forward and reported in an extremely rapid tone: "Seventy percent of this disciple's soul memory has been examined."

She took a deep breath, forcefully suppressing the palpitations from that earlier moment. "First, his memories indicate that this object was obtained by chance during his childhood in a mountain stream. At the time, the ring was half-buried in mud and silt, being pecked at by a low-level demonic bird as a shiny object. He drove the bird away and picked it up, constituting a chance discovery of treasure. Second, there are indeed faint, incomplete fluctuations of inherited consciousness within the ring, and it possesses the peculiar characteristic of 'spontaneously gathering spiritual energy and converting it to gently nourish soul power.' The earlier counter-shock and master-protection are clear evidence of this. Third..."

The old woman paused, her eyes carrying a deep wariness. "The interior of this treasure is mixed with residual dregs of obsession and murderous aura, as if multiple previous masters died violent deaths, leaving behind residues. However, there is also a strand... an extremely ancient, pure, seemingly originating from antiquity, soul-soothing Dao rhythm of peace. Good and evil are mixed, its origins are bizarre; it is definitely not an ordinary ancient treasure."

"Conclusion?" Cui Yan spoke coldly, his voice like the clashing of metal.

"The conclusion is..." The old woman lowered her head. "Disciple Su Ming possesses a resilient temperament. Although he concealed some things, the overall logic is self-consistent. There is currently no suspicion of colluding with demonic paths. But this ring... is a calamitous seed."

This Sect Leader, who was usually always unhurried and seemed indifferent to everything, had now, uncharacteristically, lost his composure.

Sect Leader Yun Miao stared intently at the ring, at the slowly rotating vortex of spiritual energy, especially at that faint, almost imperceptible soul power fluctuation emanating from the vortex's center, carrying that sense of "peace."

His pupils contracted violently. The fingers hidden in his sleeves were madly performing calculations, moving so fast they left afterimages.

"Sect Leader Senior Brother?"