At the mao hour, Gazing Star Cliff was shrouded in a bluish-gray morning mist, like an old cotton wad soaked through with cold water.

The black-robed steward from Punishment Peak delivered Su Ming to the cliff-top platform by flying sword. The moment his toes touched the ground—before Su Ming could even steady himself—the man said nothing, only gave a slight nod before transforming into a sharp streak of sword-light that tore through the air and vanished. His back was brisk and efficient, carrying an air of "mission accomplished, no desire to court extra karma."

Su Ming stood alone on the icy mountain rock. The morning wind pierced through his purple True Disciple robe—soaked through with cold sweat and half-dried. The damp, chilly fabric clung to his back like a dead layer of skin he couldn't peel off, bringing with it a bone-piercing chill. 𝒻𝑟ℯℯ𝑤𝑒𝑏𝑛𝘰𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝒸𝑜𝘮

He looked up toward his cave dwelling. The stone door was sealed tight; the defensive formation pulsed with a familiar, faint glow—the "home" he had personally laid down.

He stumbled closer. The rune sensing array on the stone door caught the master's aura and silently slid open a crack. The warm, dry air unique to the cave dwelling instantly rushed out, wrapping around him completely.

With a dull "boom" behind him, the heavy stone door shut completely, sealing off the wind and light from outside.

In that instant, the breath Su Ming had been holding in his chest for so long suddenly deflated, like a punctured balloon.

His knees gave way. Leaning against the ice-cold stone door, his body uncontrollably slid down along the door panel.

"Cough... cough, cough, cough!"

The violent cough echoed through the empty cave dwelling. Each vibration of his chest tugged at the needle-pricking pain deep in his Consciousness Sea. Su Ming looked down and saw that on the front of his robe, the bloodstain from when he had coughed up blood on the Heart-Questioning Platform had already coagulated into a dark black, like a withered ink chrysanthemum.

His hands rested on his knees, his fingers twitching uncontrollably—a physiological rebound after his body, having been under extreme tension, suddenly relaxed.

"Hu... hu..."

His heavy breathing sounded like a broken bellows.

Su Ming didn't rush to move. He just sat slumped on the ground, head tilted back, staring at the few glowstones embedded in the cave ceiling for illumination. The light wasn't bright, but it was somewhat glaring.

After confirming that the surroundings were absolutely safe, that the defensive formation was operating normally, and that no divine sense was spying on him, he finally let go of all control over his body, allowing fatigue, pain, and the post-escape sense of weakness to wash over him completely.

He tried to circulate the Like Water Art.

The moment he mobilized his spiritual energy, a searing pain shot through his meridians as if what flowed wasn't the gentle water spiritual energy but molten iron. The energy movement was rough and obstructed—the aftermath of being crushed by a high-level cultivator's pressure.

Su Ming opened his mouth, his voice hoarse as if he had swallowed a handful of sand.

On the ring finger of his left hand, the Xuantian ring—now restored to its dull, grayish appearance—suddenly flashed with an extremely faint, eerie light.

Lin Yu's Soul Body slowly materialized, hovering unsteadily.

This time, his form was thinner than ever before, so transparent that it seemed a single gust of wind could blow him away.

"Finally... crawled back into the nest."

Lin Yu's voice was weak and distant, as if drifting in from far away. He tried to maintain his usual teasing tone, flopping down cross-legged in the air across from Su Ming, striking a lazy posture, but clearly struggling.

"That old hag's soul-searching technique... is really something else." Lin Yu curled his lips, making a pained expression. "It's like scraping your brain with a dull knife... The soul power I've accumulated over the years almost got scraped into nothing by her staff."

Su Ming swallowed the bitter sweetness rising in his throat with difficulty. He raised a hand to wipe the blood from the corner of his mouth, his gaze slowly focusing.

"Master... did we... pass?"

"We barely scraped by."

Lin Yu's spectral form flickered, his tone carrying a mix of post-escape relief and a lingering fear he couldn't hide. "But we passed! We're through!"

He extended a translucent finger, pointing upward, and gave a sly chuckle: "That old guy Yun Miao is really something. Didn't even need us to make up a story—he set up the stage himself and even forced a golden signboard of 'Survivor of the Shen Family' onto us."

Su Ming closed his eyes, forcefully guiding the last trace of water spiritual energy within his Dantian, very slowly calming the surging blood and energy in his body.

"The Starfall Soul-Nurturing Ring..." Su Ming repeated the name softly, the corner of his mouth curling into a self-mocking arc. "If they believe that story, they won't dig deeper into your origins. All my 'abnormalities' will have a reasonable explanation."

"Exactly!"

Lin Yu snapped his fingers, though no sound came out. "This hat looks hot right now—it involves some ancient family and a massacre—but in the long run, it's a straight-up ladder to the sky!"

Lin Yu ticked off points on his fingers as he analyzed for Su Ming: "From now on, if your cultivation speed suddenly shoots up? That's 'accumulated breakthroughs.' If you research some weird formation? That's 'bloodline awakening,' 'inheritance resurgence.' Hell, even if we pull out some advanced stuff later, we can blame it all on that poor, unlucky Shen family."

"The most important thing is—"

A sharp glint flashed in Lin Yu's somewhat clouded eyes. "With this identity, when the sect gives you resources, they have the righteous excuse of 'repaying karma.' No one can find fault."

Su Ming slowly nodded.

That was the survival rule of the cultivation world.

Truth didn't matter. A closed logical loop was what mattered. As long as you gave those in power a reason that could convince themselves and shut others up, even black could be painted white.

"Alright, stop brooding."

Lin Yu glanced at Su Ming's still-trembling hands. "Get in there and heal. Your Dao foundation cracks were already bad—after today's mess with that old woman, they're practically a spiderweb. If you don't patch it up, you'll just leak qi."

Su Ming gritted his teeth, pressed his hands against the ground, and forced himself to stand up.

He didn't go straight to the meditation room. Instead, he first took a bottle of ordinary healing elixirs that Xuanheng had given him from his storage pouch. He poured out two pills, ignoring any waste of medicinal effect, and swallowed them.

The elixirs entered his stomach, transforming into a warm current that slightly eased the tearing pain in his physical body.

Then, crawling on hands and knees, he entered the meditation room and sat cross-legged on the warm, smooth jade cushion.

Clearing his mind of stray thoughts, his five hearts facing the sky.

The Like Water Art operated at full power.

The deep-blue water spiritual energy, like a dried-up riverbed finally meeting rain, very slowly and gently soaked into his damaged meridians and depleted Consciousness Sea.

If it had been a fire or metal cultivation method, forcing it to run now would only worsen the injuries. But water was different. The "flexibility," "moistening," and "life-giving" properties of water were pushed to their utmost limit in this moment.

Su Ming controlled the energy, not rushing to break through any passes, but letting it flow like a trickling stream, washing over the fine cracks caused by the pressure of divine sense, over and over again.

Under internal vision, his Consciousness Sea was a mess.

The once abundant divine sense power was now nearly depleted, leaving only a faint fluorescent glow at its core, flickering like a candle in the wind, on the verge of going out.

But luckily, the core was undamaged.

As long as the wick remained, the oil would eventually be refilled.