She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 93

"◎You didn't even leave a single kidney for your senior brother!◎"

At this moment, Elder Fei abruptly fell into silence.

It wasn’t until the surrounding crowd began casting strange glances his way that he finally parroted back in a stiff, unnatural tone, "You brought that demonic creature here."

Chu Tiankuo raised an eyebrow and declared boldly, "Indeed!"

Elder Fei’s expression darkened, but he forced himself to press on. "Then where is this demon? Bring it forth—let me confront it face to face."

Hearing this, Chu Tiankuo gave Elder Fei a look of utter bewilderment, his tone laced with disbelief.

"Elder, you misunderstand. Naturally, I slew the demon and brought its corpse. I fail to see how a 'confrontation' is even possible."

This response sent a surge of triumphant relief flooding through Elder Fei’s heart.

Though his rank wasn’t particularly high, he was still a sect elder. The matter of demonic infestations within his territory wasn’t exactly a secret in the palace.

He had also heard fragments of an incident from eighty years ago—rumors about a demon wreaking havoc in Camellia Town, one said to be impervious to blades and spells: the Heart-Devouring Demon.

Legend held that such demons could only be slain under specific circumstances, and even then, their bodies would vanish without a trace, leaving no remnants behind.

Had Chu Tiankuo actually managed to bring the demon alive through some extraordinary means, Elder Fei might have hesitated.

But since the man claimed to have brought a corpse, it could only be a counterfeit.

With this realization, Elder Fei’s smile grew smugly confident.

Then, Chu Tiankuo produced the rigid, armored corpse of a demon.

Elder Fei barely spared it a glance before waving dismissively.

"Are you mocking me? How could a mere Left-Coiled Snail Demon be responsible for the atrocities in Camellia Town?"

Chu Tiankuo crossed his arms and sneered. "This Left-Coiled Snail Demon used fine threads to pierce half the townsfolk, manipulating them into killing each other. Over half the tragedies in Camellia Town were its doing."

"Preposterous!"

Now firmly convinced of his advantage, Elder Fei had no patience for further debate.

Assigned to such trivial duties, he was hardly a master of cunning schemes.

So, certain of his victory, he blurted out without thinking:

"How could the corpses of Camellia Town’s victims possibly bear signs of the Left-Coiled Snail Demon’s control? This is nothing but a fabrication to clear your name!"

"Oh?"

Chu Tiankuo took a deliberate step forward. "And why, Elder, would it be impossible for the townsfolk to show traces of the demon’s manipulation?"

His voice sharpened as he pressed, "Since you speak with such certainty, does that mean you personally examined the bodies back then?"

Elder Fei choked on his words, scrambling for an excuse.

"I may not have examined them, but it’s obvious—if they were killed by you, their wounds would bear sword marks, not signs of demonic control!"

Chu Tiankuo nodded thoughtfully. "I see. I appreciate the lesson."

For some reason, the calm in Chu Tiankuo’s demeanor sent a flicker of unease through Elder Fei.

Then, Chu Tiankuo continued:

"But surely the Elder knows that while mortals’ memories can be altered, their souls retain the state of their death..."

"If the townsfolk were truly slain by my blade, their souls would bear only a single sword wound, correct?"

Elder Fei: "!!!"

Damn it! In his eagerness to exploit the Left-Coiled Snail Demon’s flaws, he’d completely forgotten about the Soul-Nurturing Pearl!

The next moment, Chu Tiankuo lightly tapped the back of the peach-blossom hairpin in his palm.

Over a dozen souls spilled out from the Soul-Nurturing Pearl.

Since sunlight harmed spirits, Chu Tiankuo allowed them only a brief glimpse before drawing them back inside.

But everyone present was a cultivator.

That fleeting moment was enough for them to see the souls’ caved-in skulls and mangled flesh—clear evidence of death by mob violence.

"......"

For a long moment, Elder Fei stood speechless.

Chu Tiankuo inclined his head with deliberate calm. "Thank you for your cooperation, Elder. It seems these people were indeed not slain by my sword."

"—In that case, the accusation that I 'succumbed to inner demons and slaughtered innocents' eighty years ago should now be dismissed."

Elder Fei: "......"

He froze on the spot.

Part of him wanted to insist these souls weren’t from Camellia Town at all.

But lies had to be plausible.

As a high-ranking elder of the Hongtong Palace, how could he have crossed paths with long-dead commoners from eighty years ago? How could he recognize them at a glance?

The lie was too flimsy to hold.

Gritting his teeth, Elder Fei forced out, "I... suppose it’s dismissed."

That damned Chu Tiankuo!

Too late, Elder Fei realized he’d played right into the man’s hands, forfeiting the moral high ground he’d initially held.

Now, Chu Tiankuo was no longer a condemned criminal.

He stood before the Hongtong Palace as a blameless disciple of the Hanson Sect, leveling accusations of his own.

The realization made Elder Fei’s blood boil—this cunning brat had outmaneuvered him!

Chu Tiankuo smiled and added, "Then, Elder, I trust you won’t continue pursuing me over Camellia Town’s affairs?"

Elder Fei: "......"

Even as he mentally tossed Chu Tiankuo into a frying pan, flipping him back and forth in seething rage, Elder Fei could only swallow his fury.

Through clenched teeth, he muttered, "You underestimate my magnanimity."

Chu Tiankuo burst out laughing.

Elder Fei: "......"

Was that supposed to be funny?

"Nothing, nothing," Chu Tiankuo waved a hand, his tone disarmingly sincere. "I just recalled something amusing."

Then, he hefted the Left-Coiled Snail Demon’s shell.

"Now, let’s discuss how the Hongtong Palace covered up this demon’s manipulation of the townsfolk—"

"Wait!"

Elder Fei cut him off abruptly.

His gaze locked onto the peach-blossom hairpin like a drowning man clutching at straws.

"Chu Tiankuo, don’t you dare spin lies. If you’re so confident, let those mortal souls testify—ask them outright whether they were killed by the Left-Coiled Snail Demon!"

Chu Tiankuo feigned surprise. "Elder Fei, why the sudden interest in testimony? Didn’t you just say mortal accounts are unreliable?"

Elder Fei scoffed. "Living mortals can be manipulated—their words mean nothing. But the souls of the dead are fragile, harder to tamper with. That changes everything."

The moment the words left his mouth, Elder Fei felt the weight of disdainful stares from the crowd.

Even he couldn’t ignore the hypocrisy in his own argument.

After all, if mortals had been tampered with before their deaths, their posthumous memories would naturally be those altered ones.

But at this moment, there was no time to dwell on such minor logical inconsistencies.

Elder Fei’s priority was to first disprove the existence of the left-spiral demon, thereby discrediting Chu Tiankuo’s claims.

As for the true culprit behind the mortals’ deaths—the emotion-devouring demon…

Tsk, mortals were all just skittish, easily frightened creatures.

If they could worship clay idols as divine beings, then a dark cloud in the sky might just as easily be mistaken for a demon during their brawls…

In any case, the existence of the emotion-devouring demon was easier to explain. The first step was to prove the left-spiral demon was a fabrication.

After hearing Elder Fei’s decision, Chu Tiankuo nodded expressionlessly. “Since Elder Fei insists, we shall proceed as you suggest.”

Because the scorching sun could harm souls, the testimonies of mortals naturally couldn’t be taken under broad daylight.

The elders and sect leaders moved into the Guiyuan Sect’s assembly hall.

Meanwhile, all the disciples present were politely escorted back to their quarters, each accompanied by Guiyuan Sect disciples.

Among them, the disciples of Hongtong Palace received special treatment—three or four Guiyuan Sect disciples trailed behind each of them.

Clearly, until the truth was uncovered, these disciples were to be held under house arrest to prevent them from sending messages.

…

The moment they stepped into the assembly hall, Elder Fei couldn’t wait to urge Chu Tiankuo to release the souls from the hairpin for confrontation.

Since he was so eager, Chu Tiankuo naturally obliged.

Dozens of souls emerged one after another from the peach blossom hairpin, and under the binding of the Truth-Seeking Curse, they gave their most honest accounts.

After hearing the same story retold dozens of times from different perspectives, the key details became glaringly obvious.

The sect leaders and elders exchanged glances.

Clearly, everyone had noticed that the mortals described the demon as “a patch of gray mist,” not a “left-spiral demon.”

But compared to the others, who remained detached and merely watched the spectacle, the one who lost his composure was none other than the man at the center of it all.

Elder Fei abruptly flicked his sleeve and turned to the others, declaring with conviction:

“Esteemed colleagues, it seems the truth is now clear. These ignorant mortals mistook a mere cloud for a demon. As for Chu Tiankuo, his attempt to pass off a left-spiral demon as evidence is nothing but a self-deceiving farce…”

He concluded sternly, “Chu Tiankuo, you have slandered the reputation of our Hongtong Palace. Even if I, in my magnanimity, could forgive you, our sect rules will not. Surrender yourself and come with us.”

For a fleeting moment, Elder Fei was certain he had the upper hand.

Even with Master Song of the Hanson Sect present, he didn’t believe a minor sect from the snowy regions would dare oppose the overwhelming might of Hongtong Palace.

But in the next instant, Elder Fei saw the smile on Chu Tiankuo’s face.

That same sharp, knowing, almost mocking grin—like a blade slicing through flesh, stripping a man bare to the bone.

Chu Tiankuo said, “If Elder Fei truly stands on the side of justice, why the rush?”

He tucked the peach blossom hairpin back into his robes and confirmed:

“However, since Elder Fei has spoken thus, I take it you acknowledge these mortals’ testimonies—that there is indeed a cloud-like demon within your sect’s jurisdiction. This is now our shared understanding, correct?”

Elder Fei snapped without hesitation, “What shared understanding? Boy, you can’t play the same trick twice.”

He declared confidently, “That so-called ‘cloud’ is clearly not a demon—at most, it’s a lingering mortal obsession. If mortals can’t tell the difference, how could cultivators fail to?”

Chu Tiankuo shook his head calmly. “I truly cannot tell.”

“You—!”

Chu Tiankuo sighed. “Because in Camellia Town, I encountered that demon and was even captured by it.”

He fixed Elder Fei with a meaningful gaze and continued deliberately:

“For nearly two months, I waited for Hongtong Palace to send aid. Yet your sect turned a blind eye all this time.”

The insinuation in his words was far too heavy.

Elder Fei couldn’t stomach it.

“Chu Tiankuo, the elders and sect leaders gathered here are all distinguished figures with precious time to spare. This is no place for your tall tales.”

“Oh?” Chu Tiankuo inquired politely. “Then what, pray tell, would not count as a tall tale?”

Elder ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‍Fei retorted reflexively, “To catch a thief, you need the loot; to catch an adulterer, you need the pair. Since the mortals spoke truth under the Truth-Seeking Curse, you must provide matching evidence to prove your own claims.”

“For instance, if you claim that gray mist is a demon, then produce a demon in the form of gray mist. But you’ve only shown a left-spiral demon—that’s nothing but slander!”

Having delivered this speech, Elder Fei savored his own words, finding them logical and well-reasoned—quite impressive, in fact.

…Yet for some reason, the moment the words left his mouth, they felt eerily familiar, as if he’d said them before.

—Wait.

Elder Fei stiffened.

Hadn’t he, in fact, said nearly the exact same thing less than an hour ago?

And at that time, Chu Tiankuo’s response had been…

“Very well.” Chu Tiankuo nodded obligingly, then gave an answer that sounded all too familiar.

“Since Elder Fei insists, I naturally must produce this demon—and in fact, I’ve already brought it.”

Elder Fei: “???”

What? You brought it? Again? Seriously?

For some inexplicable reason, a faint sense of absurdity slowly rose in Elder Fei’s heart.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being trapped in some kind of ghostly, circular logic…

But this time, Chu Tiankuo didn’t leave him hanging.

In the next instant, before Elder Fei could react, Chu Tiankuo made a swift “pulling” motion.

A surge of dense demonic energy materialized in the air, drawing wary gazes from all present.

A wisp of gray mist emerged, held firmly in Chu Tiankuo’s grip like the string of a kite.

It looked thinner and paler than the mortals had described, as if weakened.

The moment Elder Fei saw it, his face twisted in shock.

“Wait—that’s an emotion-devouring demon! How could you possibly capture it?!”

The moment the words left his mouth, Elder Fei realized his blunder.

Chu Tiankuo’s eyes turned piercingly cold, like a winter gale slicing through flesh.

He enunciated each word slowly:

“Pray tell, why should I not be able to capture this demon?”

Just as the entire hall held its breath, Ji Qinghong’s voice drifted in from seemingly nowhere, laced with infuriating amusement.

Ji Qinghong chuckled. “So this demon is called an emotion-devouring demon. How impressive—Hongtong Palace’s knowledge is truly vast, to recognize such a rare and obscure demon from the ancient Demon-Subduing War.”

He added meaningfully, “Could it be that your Palace Master swore brotherhood with demons? Otherwise, how would you know such details?”

Elder Fei’s face instantly flushed red with anger as he glared at Ji Qinghong. "This is... a case of taking words too literally! I named it based on the nature of the demonic creature!"

For a distinguished elder of the Hongtong Palace to resort to such an excuse, it was clear he had been driven to a dead end.

Yet Ji Qinghong, with his delightfully wicked temperament, wasn’t satisfied with merely backing someone into a corner—he had to push them into the water afterward.

"Oh? How exactly did you name it based on the demon’s nature?" Ji Qinghong feigned surprise. "From the testimonies of the mortals, all I gathered was that this creature enjoys provoking conflicts and revels in bloodshed—if I were to name it, I’d call it the Heartrending Slayer.

"Pray tell, Elder Fei, how did you arrive at the name ‘Emotion-Devouring Fiend’?"

Whether the demon had truly "slain hearts," Elder Fei couldn’t say.

But one thing was certain—Ji Qinghong had just slain his heart.

With Ji Qinghong’s perfectly timed assist, Chu Tiankuo took another step forward, his voice icy as he pressed the elder.

"Indeed, not a single word in the mortals’ testimonies mentioned ‘devouring emotions.’ And I, Chu Tiankuo, haven’t even had the chance to recount my own experience yet. Elder Fei, could it be that you possess divine foresight?"

Ji Qinghong clapped his hands in mock delight. "Ah, if Elder Fei has such a gift, why keep it from us? Do you take me for an outsider? If so, my heart truly aches."

Leaning in with a deceptively gentle smile, Ji Qinghong suggested, "Come now, Elder Fei. Why don’t you use your divine foresight to simulate... how Hongtong Palace plans to cover up its collusion with demonic creatures? Sheltering them, raising them—such a grave matter surely requires an explanation."

"......"

Elder Fei’s mouth opened, then slowly closed.

The man, who had always lived in comfort and carried himself with polished dignity, suddenly looked utterly defeated, as though decades of age had settled on him in an instant.

With a gritted snarl, veins bulging on his forehead, he moved like a gust of wind—dashing toward the hall’s exit.

Yet in the same breath, a figure with snow-white hair shadowed him effortlessly.

Ji Qinghong threw an arm around Elder Fei’s shoulder in a comradely manner, only to yank him backward by the neck and fling him back into his seat.

Elder Fei coughed up a mouthful of blood, while Ji Qinghong sighed regretfully.

"Leaving without even a farewell? How terribly rude."

Frowning, Ji Qinghong added, "I did ask you not to treat me as an outsider, but this is too familiar—practically treating me like family."

Everyone: "......"

...What kind of nonsense is this? Who in their right mind would dare consider you family?!

The entire spectacle had unfolded in less than half an hour.

Yet the tension was as gripping as any life-or-death duel.

By now, Hongtong Palace’s guilt in sheltering demonic creatures was undeniable.

But deeper questions remained—questions that only Elder Fei could answer.

And extracting those answers fell to those present.

As the assembly unanimously nominated the Guiyuan Sect’s leader to oversee the matter, the sect master cleared his throat and took charge.

With solemn authority, he declared, "Elder Fei, Hongtong Palace’s secrets end today. You will give the world an explanation."

......

Yan Luoyue had only caught the first half of Chu Tiankuo’s statement.

Once the proceedings moved indoors to gather testimonies from mortals, her status didn’t permit entry. So she tugged Wu Manshuang and Ling Shuanghun along and left.

The trio didn’t hurry back to their peak. Instead, they meandered through Guiyuan Sect’s scenic spots, giving Ling Shuanghun a leisurely tour.

Ling Shuanghun frowned. "Yan Luoyue, I appreciate your enthusiasm, but... are we heading in the opposite direction of Sulu Hall?"

Yan Luoyue grinned. "That’s impossible."

Ling Shuanghun pointed out, "Yan Luoyue, you’re sweating."

Yan Luoyue: "......"

After a pause, she admitted, "Fine, I don’t want to return to the peak just yet..."

After some time apart, Ji Qinghong’s mischievous streak seemed to have worsened.

Could she crash at Senior Sister Chang Lili’s place for the next three to five years to avoid trouble?

The answer, of course, was no.

Before dusk even fell, Jiang Tingbai intercepted her.

The senior brother patted her shoulder warmly. "Little Junior Sister, our master asked me to bring you back."

Yan Luoyue: "......"

It seemed there was no escape.

Clearing her throat, she marched back with exaggerated bravado.

At the mountain’s base, she glanced at the boundary stele—

Good heavens, the peak’s name, "Tortoise Without a Home Peak," still hadn’t been changed!

Her confidence wavered, but she pressed on, soon reaching the familiar grassy clearing.

Before their departure, the trio had thoroughly trampled the lawn.

Yet Ji Qinghong had somehow restored it to a lush, tender green—so fresh it looked downright delicious.

At the moment, Ji Qinghong lounged on that very grass, leisurely plucking a handful.

With a pulse of spiritual energy, the blades became cleaner than if they’d been washed.

He popped them into his mouth, chewing contentedly.

Yan Luoyue stared, transfixed.

If not for the circumstances, she might’ve asked for a commemorative portrait.

Jiang Tingbai sighed at his audacious junior sister. "What are you looking at?"

Yan Luoyue tugged his sleeve in awe. "Senior Brother, look! A three-parted mouth!"

Jiang Tingbai: "......"

Ji Qinghong’s lips curled as he finally turned his gaze to her.

In a silken tone, he asked, "Before you left, you left me a note. I remember its contents well. So tell me—where is the ‘tender young grass’?"

Yan Luoyue answered shamelessly, "I searched far and wide, but none compare to the grass here."

Ji Qinghong’s voice softened further. "And the ‘little rabbit who eats grass’?"

After a thoughtful pause, Yan Luoyue lifted her own collar.

"Here?"

Ji Qinghong’s eyes narrowed as he rose slowly. "Excellent. Perfect."

The moment he stood, Yan Luoyue bolted.

Though the saying goes, Whether you stretch your neck or shrink it, the blade falls all the same—

A little tortoise could always retreat into its shell. And Yan Luoyue had no intention of facing the blade!

That day, she was chased up and down the mountain in a marathon around Tortoise Without a Home Peak.

The tale was later recorded by Ling Shuanghun, the demonic historian, in The Chronicles of Yan Luoyue—

Under the chapter title: The Tortoise and the Hare.

......

The eighty-year-old case of Chu Tiankuo had exposed Hongtong Palace’s collusion with demons.

Their crime of harboring demonic creatures was now irrefutable.

But the accusations of sheltering, raising, and conspiring with them? Hongtong Palace would never admit to those.

With no concrete evidence extracted from Elder Fei, the sect continued to protest vehemently.

The Hongtong Palace, after all, was a colossal entity of immense scale, so the bickering over this matter wouldn’t be resolved anytime soon.

Just as no dynasty crumbles overnight due to a single incident, no city collapses in a single day.

To say that Hongtong Palace would suddenly disintegrate because of this was highly improbable.

Yet, this loss of control and leadership was undoubtedly an ominous sign of decay and fragmentation for the palace.

Yan Luoyue didn’t pay close attention to the tug-of-war over there.

Recently, her focus had been on two matters.

The first was that, after searching every corner of the newly renamed Turtle Return Peak (yes, indeed—on Yan Luoyue’s second day back, Ji Qinghong had whimsically changed the peak’s name), she still couldn’t find any trace of Second Elder.

In the past, Second Elder would always soak in the hot springs at fixed times.

Yan Luoyue would occasionally don a swimsuit and chat with him in the golden waters.

But this time, upon her return, there was no sign of him.

When she casually asked Jiang Tingbai about it, her senior brother paused for a moment before telling her to ask Ji Qinghong instead.

This reaction was rather unusual.

Sensing something amiss, Yan Luoyue turned to her master, only to be given a breezy answer: "Your Second Elder is in seclusion with the sect leader. He’ll come out to play with you in three to five years."

For some reason, that nagging feeling of having forgotten something resurfaced.

It was like suddenly craving a soda in the middle of the night, then debating whether to dig up that missing can you’d bought earlier or just order takeout to meet the minimum for free delivery.

Unable to recall anything after much thought, Yan Luoyue set the matter aside.

The second matter… was that her senior brother, Jiang Tingbai, had gone on a short-term mission and taken Wu Manshuang along.

Yan Luoyue had wanted to join, but Jiang Tingbai gently patted her shoulder.

"Senior brother needs to discuss something with Junior Brother Wu… I’ll tell you when we return."

Well, if Senior Brother Jiang said so.

During these days, Ling Shuanghun had secluded himself, meticulously revising the draft of Camellia Town.

Left to her own devices, Yan Luoyue spent time studying "Body Refinement Techniques," accumulating a few questions. She then gathered her notes and went to seek advice from Song Qingchi.

Just as she approached the Spring Repose Residence, where the Hanson Sect was staying, she spotted Chu Tiankuo.

There he stood under the eaves, balancing a towering stack of water-filled buckets on his head, looking utterly resigned to his punishment.

Yan Luoyue raised an eyebrow and soon appeared before him.

"Senior Brother Chu," she teased, glancing at the buckets, "keeping busy, I see?"

Chu Tiankuo rolled his eyes upward, sighed deeply at the precarious tower, and shook his head.

Yan Luoyue suppressed a laugh. "What did Master Song punish you for?"

After all, since the return of his three treasured disciples—one of whom was his own son—Master Song had been in high spirits, glowing with joy and even coughing less.

Given the hardships these three had endured, Master Song cherished them more than his own eyeballs. Unless they’d committed some grave offense, he’d never dream of punishing them.

Chu Tiankuo cleared his throat. "The matter of Junior Brother Song refining me… got exposed."

As if on cue, a loud thud echoed from the main hall, followed by a roar that could pierce walls:

"You unfilial brat! Even if you had to experiment, couldn’t you pick someone other than your senior brother?!"

"And at the very least, you could’ve left him a kidney! You didn’t even leave him one! Not a single one!"

Chu Tiankuo: "…"

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Yan Luoyue mused, "I’d always heard Master Song was a heroic figure…"

Now, she could see why.

Within minutes, Song Qingchi emerged silently, carrying several more water buckets, which he stacked atop his head one by one.

The two unfortunate brothers exchanged glances, sharing a wry, knowing smile.

This clearly wasn’t the best time to ask questions, so Yan Luoyue prepared to slip away.

But Song Qingchi gently called her back and, despite the buckets, answered her queries with scholarly precision.

When addressing the last question, however, he hesitated slightly.

"I have an idea… try replacing the Shadow Grasp Array here with the Return to Origin Array."

Yan Luoyue pondered this. "Wouldn’t that reduce the effectiveness?"

"It would," Song Qingchi admitted thoughtfully. "But it might just leave the refined subject with at least one kidney…"

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Hearing this, even Chu Tiankuo staggered, splashing water from his buckets onto his shoulder.

"Thank you, junior brother," he said through gritted teeth. "Your boundless lack of virtue will be remembered for eternity!"

---

Meanwhile, Wu Manshuang accompanied Jiang Tingbai on a sect mission.

It was a routine guard duty lasting two days and one night, requiring them to take one night watch before handing over the item to the next shift.

During their watch, Jiang Tingbai lit a fire.

The two sat by the cave entrance, chatting idly around the flames.

"If junior brother wants to cultivate refinement, you could learn Go from Master," Jiang Tingbai suggested, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. "He’d be happy to teach if someone’s willing to play."

At the time, Wu Manshuang, unaware of Ji Qinghong’s dubious Go skills, nodded earnestly.

Clearing his throat, Jiang Tingbai’s conscience prompted him to add, "Aside from Go, you could also learn the flute or bamboo pipe from me."

He was fairly skilled with both—mainly because carving them cost nothing, as he could just pick suitable bamboo from the back mountain.

As he spoke, Jiang Tingbai’s fingers nimbly wove a… rather indistinct grass sculpture.

Wu Manshuang studied it for a long moment, guessing it might be a nine-tailed fox… or something.

Gradually, Jiang Tingbai’s voice grew quieter.

He seemed unusually tired today and soon dozed off against the cave wall, the half-finished grass sculpture slipping from his fingers and unraveling on the ground.

Wu Manshuang paused but didn’t wake him, taking over the watch instead.

He quietly pulled a small blanket from his storage pouch and draped it over Jiang Tingbai.

After a moment’s hesitation, he picked up the half-unraveled grass sculpture and, over the next while, painstakingly refolded the stems along their original creases.

With no prior experience in grass weaving, the task was far from easy.

But Wu Manshuang had enough patience and was willing to take his time, so he didn’t appear the least bit impatient.

Only after weaving the grass back to Jiang Tingbai’s previous progress did Wu Manshuang tighten the knot and place it back in its original spot.

Silently, he flexed his fingers and glanced toward the horizon, where the first light of dawn was just breaking.

As he did this, Wu Manshuang didn’t notice Jiang Tingbai opening one eye, sweeping a glance over the back of his head before discreetly pressing the half-finished grass weave into his palm.

A quiet sigh flickered through Jiang Tingbai’s eyes.

—Chu Tiankuo’s warning had indeed been right.

A person’s energy was finite; the more they gave to others, the less they had for themselves.

Wu Manshuang’s thoughts were heavy and meticulous—no wonder Chu Tiankuo worried that this junior brother of his was living too thinly.

If it were Yan Luoyue and Jiang Tingbai keeping watch together, their junior sister would still drape a blanket over him and silently take on the duty of standing guard.

But Yan Luoyue wouldn’t go so far as to meticulously restore even something as trivial as a grass weave for him.

But Junior Brother Wu… He was like someone who had once starved, finally seated at a banquet, unwilling to waste even a single grain of food.

Wu Manshuang couldn’t bear to let even the slightest kindness in the world go unappreciated.

When morning came, Jiang Tingbai thanked his junior brother warmly and brought him back to the Returning Turtle Peak.

Wu Manshuang reminded him, “Senior Brother, you should take better care of your health.”

“Mm, you too, Junior Brother.” Jiang Tingbai smiled, his eyes curving gently. “Could you call Luoyue over for me? There’s something I’d like to discuss with her.”

……

Jiang Tingbai had barely begun when Yan Luoyue caught his drift and nodded in enthusiastic agreement.

She sighed. “Manshuang really does go all out, doesn’t he? He’s reckless with his own life.”

Even as someone who was practically inseparable from Wu Manshuang, Yan Luoyue sometimes found his decisiveness startling.

She would never fear him, of course, but she couldn’t help feeling a little exasperated.

—How could her dearest little snake be so careless with himself?

But Wu Manshuang’s temperament went even deeper than that.

He wasn’t just carrying the “thinness” Jiang Tingbai had described.

Back when they first met, the little snake had possessed a wild, chaotic kind of righteousness.

At that time, Wu Manshuang assumed everyone in the world was good, and he treated them with reverence.

—But if they weren’t good, then they deserved to die.

Later, it took Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun working together—scheming, coaxing, and well, ahem, gently guiding—to straighten out that streak in him.

Yan Luoyue looked up expectantly. “Does Senior Brother want to talk to Manshuang?”

Jiang Tingbai smiled faintly. “I’d like to hear your thoughts first.”

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“No matter how much reasoning I offer, it might still come across as superficial,” Jiang Tingbai explained. “And with Junior Brother Wu… I’m afraid he might misunderstand, thinking I’m dissatisfied with his actions as his senior brother.”

After all, Wu Manshuang cherished his current life deeply and never wanted to disappoint those he cared about—or those who cared about him.

Yan Luoyue thought for a moment, then suddenly clapped her hands.

“How about we try a lighter approach?”

“What do you mean?”

Her eyes curved into crescents, brimming with confidence. “Manshuang is clever—he’ll figure it out himself. Before he and the others leave, let’s gather Xiao Ling and Senior Brother Chu for a game!”

Jiang Tingbai blinked. “What kind of game?”

Yan Luoyue—alias Yan Bixin, master artificer, unremarkable money-making genius, and designer of the Demon Slayer card game—placed a hand on her shoulder, stepped back with one foot, and bowed gracefully to Jiang Tingbai.

“It’s just a rough idea for now, but the plan is to create a personalized character card for each of the seven of us.”

Her eyes sparkled with excitement. “Hey, Senior Brother, what do you think of naming it The Ultimate Showdown: Two Generations of Trios and Two Generations of Martial Siblings?”

Jiang Tingbai: “……”

The name alone left him momentarily dazed.

Even with his three-hundred-zhang-thick bias toward Yan Luoyue, he murmured, “…That doesn’t sound very good.”

—After all these years, just as he still hadn’t mastered grass weaving, his junior sister still hadn’t learned how to name things properly???