Sitting cross-legged on his favorite flat stone, Su Bai slowly exhaled a breath of frosty mist. He opened his eyes with a slight frown marring his features.

He had just finished a full circulation of the Void-Sunflower Supreme Method, and he had noticed a glaring inefficiency in his workflow.

Cultivating didn’t hurt anymore. His Foundation was flawless, and the method fit his body perfectly since the Blank Stele had recompiled the code specifically for him. However, despite the seamless software integration, his progression speed had slowed to a frustrating crawl.

The issue was the environment.

Clear Cloud Peak, and the Radiant Sky Sect as a whole, was a premier ’Righteous’ sect. The ambient Qi saturating the mountains was pure, vibrant, and overwhelmingly Yang-aligned.

But the Void-Sunflower method was a strictly Yin-based operating system.

His Reversal Body was incredible. It could actively absorb the aggressive Yang Qi from the air and forcefully invert it into Yin Qi for his Dao Pedestal to consume.

But this conversion process was exactly like running foreign code through an emulator. It took extra effort, burned unnecessary processing power, and caused massive "system lag."

To test his theory, Su Bai reached into his sleeve and popped a chunk of the toxic dregs he had scraped from Ji Ruyue’s cauldron, following it up with one of Liu Meng’s Shattered-Soul Oblivion Pills.

Whoosh!

The heavy, toxic Yin energy flooded his system. There was zero conversion lag. His Void-Sunflower OS recognized the natively supported fuel. It instantly compiled it into massive, frictionless EXP that flooded his Foundation.

’My hardware is optimized, but my local Wi-Fi is terrible,’ Su Bai sighed, looking at the bright, sunny sky above his courtyard. ’The Righteous faction is a terrible work environment for me. To maximize my ROI, I need a toxic workplace. Literally.’

Just as he was contemplating how to artificially pollute his own courtyard, someone entered the Peak.

Lu Canghai strode in. The afternoon sun cast long shadows behind him.

"My disciple," Lu Canghai said. His voice was unusually quiet. "Pack your bags. The Sect Master has formally issued your first mission outside the sect."

Su Bai froze. This was the first time in six years he was being asked to leave the safety of the Radiant Sky corporate headquarters.

"A mission, Master?" Su Bai asked respectfully, standing up. "Where am I being deployed?"

"To a mortal city in the Northern Region. Blackwater City," Lu Canghai replied gravely. "There is an unnatural famine plaguing the land. You are to investigate the cause."

Su Bai fell silent. In the cultivation world, orthodox sects avoided the mortal realm as much as possible. Interacting with the fragile lives of mortals generated massive Karmic Debt, which could trigger deadly heavenly tribulations later down the line.

It was an unnecessary occupational hazard.

"Master, isn’t the mortal realm riddled with heavy karma?" Su Bai questioned politely. "Should we not remain detached from worldly affairs?"

Lu Canghai nodded in approval at his disciple’s foundational knowledge. "Normally, yes. However, the Sect Master suspects this famine is not a natural disaster. It bears the distinct signature of Demonic Cultivators poisoning the soil."

Su Bai’s expression instantly changed.

The corporate mathematics shifted in a fraction of a second. If Demonic Cultivators were involved, the rules of engagement flipped completely.

In the cultivation world, stepping in to stop a demonic massacre wasn’t considered interference. It was classified as "Exorcising Demons and Defending the Dao." It didn’t generate Karmic Debt. In fact, it generated massive Heavenly Merit.

But Su Bai didn’t care about Heavenly Merit.

’Demonic Cultivators,’ Su Bai’s internal voice practically salivated. ’They cultivate using corrupted Yin, death aura, and toxic miasma. They are walking, breathing, zero-lag EXP farm!’

"Master," Su Bai’s eyes suddenly shone with profound, righteous determination. "Say no more. Exorcising demons and defending the innocent is the absolute duty of a righteous cultivator. I accept this mission without hesitation!"

Lu Canghai blinked. He was momentarily taken aback by his disciple’s sudden zeal. "Good... good! That is the spirit of my Clear Cloud Peak!"

"When do I depart?" Su Bai asked.

"Tonight," Lu Canghai said. Then, his tone dropped to a serious whisper. "Under the cover of darkness."

Su Bai paused. The excitement faded, replaced by cold, calculating confusion.

"Tonight?" Su Bai echoed. "But Master, just this afternoon, you explicitly ordered me not to descend the mountain because the perimeter is swarming with foreign spies."

Lu Canghai did not answer immediately. He looked away, then stared out over the sea of clouds surrounding their peak. He remained silent for a long, heavy moment.

That silence spoke volumes.

Su Bai’s corporate brain rapidly pieced the puzzle together. The Sect Master returned today. The sudden, "urgent" mission dispatched at midnight. The overwhelming presence of rival executives at their gates.

’Ah,’ Su Bai realized. ’An audit. The rival factions are finally here to investigate the anomaly, and the Sect Master needs to scrub the ledgers. This isn’t just a business trip. This is a mandatory corporate relocation to hide the company’s biggest liability.’

Su Bai bowed deeply. "I understand, Master. The politics of the sect are indeed complicated. I will leave tonight and draw no attention to myself."

Lu Canghai looked back at Su Bai. A wave of profound relief washed over his aged face. He was so incredibly glad that his disciple was perceptive enough to understand the ugly, unspoken geopolitical reality without needing it spelled out.

The old man stepped forward and placed a heavy, reassuring hand on Su Bai’s shoulder.

"Listen to me, my Disciple," Lu Canghai said. "Righteousness is a noble pursuit, but the heavens favor the living over dead martyrs. If you encounter a demonic entity that exceeds your capabilities, you do not fight. You turn around and you use that Falling Leaf Substitution to run for your life. Understand? Your survival is more important to me than any mortal city."

Su Bai felt a genuine pang of warmth in his chest. In his past life, the upper management would have happily sacrificed him for a one percent bump in quarterly profits. But Lu Canghai genuinely cared.

"I understand, Master. I will prioritize my safety."

Lu Canghai nodded, then reached into his storage ring. He pulled out a sleek, silver-threaded cloak and pressed it into Su Bai’s hands.

"This is a [Moon-Shadow Cloak]. It will mask your Qi signature from anyone below the Nascent Soul realm. Wear it until you are far past our borders."

"Thank you, Master," Su Bai said. He was touched by the generous severance package.

...

A few hours later, when the moon hung high in the sky and the Radiant Sky Sect was bathed in silver light, Lu Canghai led his disciple to a hidden, heavily warded exit at the back of the mountain range.

Su Bai pulled the Moon-Shadow Cloak over his shoulders, instantly blending into the darkness. He stepped onto his flying sword, then gave his master one last, respectful bow.

With a silent pulse of frictionless Yin Qi, Su Bai shot into the night sky, streaking toward the North like a phantom.

Lu Canghai stood at the edge of the cliff. He watched the faint distortion in the air disappear into the clouds. The worried, fatherly expression on his face slowly melted away, replaced by a sharp, terrifying glint in his eyes.

’Go, my disciple,’ the old warlord thought. The dormant bloodlust of his youth stirred in his chest. ’Grow strong in the shadows. Let these arrogant sects play their political games at my gates tomorrow. When you return, they will learn exactly why the heavens sent you to Clear Cloud Peak.’