As the saying goes: a mighty Dragon cannot suppress a local Serpent. Once you set foot in Huizhou Province, isn't it all up to our Qin Family?

If you start trouble without thinking it through, you're courting death!

"Does the death of that wretch have anything to do with these two?" Prince Qin asked in a low voice.

"Father, you should be able to see—the deed was too cleanly done: Divine Techniques, Primordial Spirit Emergence, killing from afar… Unless they're caught in the act, it's nearly impossible to have enough evidence to condemn." Qin Ming replied coolly.

"Since that's the case…" A glint of icy sharpness flashed in Prince Qin's eyes.

"I understand what you mean, Father. If they were small fry, of course we would rather kill a thousand innocent than let one go…"

At this, Qin Ming paused briefly, then continued, "But these two are no ordinary characters."

Fang Changle is the Maoshan inheritor, his fate tied to the White Crane Temple's incense lineage—needless to say.

As for Zhang Fan, though not well-known, he's quietly cultivated to the Mahayana Realm. Such natural talent speaks for itself in Zhenwu Mountain.

Next year, on the second day of the second lunar month, Transcendent Zhenren will accept a Closed-door Disciple. With Zhang Fan's cultivation and gifts, he may well be on the shortlist.

People like this can't just be killed on a whim.

"So what do you think?" Prince Qin asked, revealing nothing in his expression.

"In truth, there's no grudge that can't be dissolved in this world. To achieve great things, you must have the courage to claim a share—even if someone kills your father…" Qin Ming's tone remained calm.

Prince Qin didn't reply, but the corner of his eye twitched involuntarily.

"It doesn't matter whether Qin Shi was killed by them or not. If we can win these two over, it's as if the Qin Family offers Longgeng Senior our proof of loyalty."

Wisdom gleamed in Qin Ming's eyes.

In that case, Maoshan will have aligned itself with the White Crane Lineage, and Zhang Fan, with his youthful power at the Mahayana Realm, will surely hold great sway in Zhenwu Mountain.

"Your plan is sound. But what if those two brats refuse to obey?" Prince Qin said in a steely tone.

"Failing to recognize the situation is failing to heed the Heavenly Dao. Tusk Mountain will be their grave," Qin Ming chuckled softly.

"For the great Daoist cause, to eliminate Demons, they sacrifice themselves for the sect—Maoshan and Zhenwu Mountain wouldn't be able to object. At that time, I'll apply to the Daoist Alliance Headquarters and award them a grand banner."

At this, the smile on Qin Ming's face grew broader.

"If we do act, we must be completely confident," Prince Qin reminded.

For such affairs, leaving any survivors spells endless trouble, might even bring the Qin Family destruction.

"The sect's uncles should arrive these days. It's foolproof," Qin Ming replied calmly.

Joined by Song Yunqi and Ji Haisan, their strength combined easily subdues Fang Changhe and Zhang Fan—no doubt about it.

Don't forget: Song Yunqi and Ji Haisan are not only Mahayana Realm, they've also awakened Celestial Gifted Divine Techniques.

Besides, for this trip to Tusk Mountain, experts from Qi Yun Mountain will assist too.

Qin Ming's uncle is a master of the Sect Leader Realm.

"You handle things thoroughly and foresee every move. The Qin Family is sure to flourish," Prince Qin nodded, looking at his most outstanding son with satisfaction.

Comparing the two: Qin Shi was indeed a wretch, not worth mourning at all.

"Do as you see fit." Prince Qin turned to leave.

"Father, about that uncle of ours…" Qin Ming hesitated to speak further.

He knew Prince Qin's affection for his younger brother was deep—over the past twenty years, he often visited alone, sometimes staying half a day.

"Ah, the old always say being favored young isn't necessarily a good thing…"

"Your uncle was extraordinary all his life—gifted in youth, dismissing his peers by age twelve; the title Junior Celestial Master made him famous across half of Jiangnan. Later, his fortunes became even more Xuanmiao—he met a remarkable figure who taught him Daoist Skill…"

"Met a remarkable figure?" Qin Ming raised a brow, hearing these tales for the first time. He immediately asked, "What sort of person?"

"I don't really know," Prince Qin shook his head.

"I just know: more than twenty years ago, he met that Demoness, fought her several times undefeated, overpowering her every time—with that person lurking in the background."

"It's all old history now…"

Prince Qin waved dismissively, then glanced back at the one lying in the Crystal Coffin.

"Fortune in youth always turns, and perhaps this is his Tribulation."

Sighing, Prince Qin stepped out into the cold, empty side hall.

...

It was deep into the night.

Fang Changle passed through the long corridor, looking around. Seeing no one, he snuck into Zhang Fan's room.

"What are you here for, in the middle of the night?"

"I'm going to investigate the Qin Family by night. You protect me," Zhang Fan whispered solemnly.

"You're going to do an Out-of-Body Experience?" Fang Changle asked, with a trace of hesitation. "Be careful—this is the Qin Family; their ancestors produced a Celestial Master. If something mystical is hidden…"

Primordial Spirit Emergence is perilous—some artifacts are designed to counter it. Step into a trap, and it's utter ruin.

"The blade is in another's hand; I'm the fish on the block. I have to investigate. I'll be careful." Zhang Fan was absolutely confident in his Primordial Spirit.

"Alright then." Fang Changle hesitated, then nodded.

Zhang Fan sat cross-legged to meditate. In that instant, his Primordial Spirit shot out from his Celestial Spirit point.

He hid his Primordial Light, drifting ethereal and formless, passing straight through the wall and out of the room.

The Qin Family estate is vast, but Zhang Fan dared not search freely with his Primordial Spirit—he wandered room by room.

After wandering for ages, Zhang Fan's Primordial Spirit drifted into the cold side hall.

"There's someone lying here?"

Where Zhang Fan looked—sure enough, in the Crystal Coffin lay Prince Qin, his body bristling with Silver Needles; a single Golden Needle at his brow was particularly striking.

"Who is this person, hidden away by the Qin Family in such a place?"

Zhang Fan pondered, his mind stirred. He activated the Appearance and Spirit Divergence Technique from White Crane Temple's Grand Sect Law.

Hum…

At once, Zhang Fan's Primordial Spirit became like blue smoke, passing through the Prince Qin's brow Spirit Platform, entering his Primordial Spirit Inner Scenery.

Rumble…

Thunder resounded, angry rain flooded the sky; darkness reigned—stretch out your hand, you couldn't see your fingers.

In this Primordial Spirit Inner Scenery, heaven was dim, earth was murky—everything seemed to fall into an endless abyss, not a trace of sunlight from the mortal realm.

"Great Night is not bright!?"

Zhang Fan was astonished. The Primordial Spirit before him was lost in Great Night—a Living Dead, lying in the Crystal Coffin—no wonder.

Great Night is not bright—a Cultivator's most dreaded Tribulation.

Caught in it, the Primordial Spirit can never transcend.

For anyone else, entering such Inner Scenery would trap their own Primordial Spirit in Great Night, unable to escape.

But for Zhang Fan, this Inner Scenery is as familiar as routine—he's lived through it ten years.

Rustle…

Just then, from the far darkness, a gigantic figure emerged—struggling, fumbling in the gloom…

"That person's Primordial Spirit!?"

Heart stirring, Zhang Fan stepped closer.

Rumble…

A thunderbolt rent the sky. Suddenly, countless flickers of light surged from the darkness toward Zhang Fan. In the next instant, he beheld visions of the past.

Cang Mountain's dense woods; before a pitch-black cave—the sunlight couldn't pierce its shadow.

At that very moment, a young man climbed the cliff—the style matched that of twenty years ago. It was none other than the man now lying in the Crystal Coffin, in his youth.

"The skills you taught really are powerful. This time I won again in Magical Combat against her," the youth saluted toward the black cave, a self-satisfied smile on his lips.

"Don't get complacent. That woman isn't simple; she's training and crossing Tribulation…"

Suddenly, a strange voice came from the cave—impossible to mark male or female, broken and intermittent, like radio static.

"She's cultivating Demonic Aspect, crossing Human Tribulation."

"Besides, she has helpers—formidable ones. They'll arrive soon; that's your true enemy!"

The strange voice echoed again.

"Helpers? What kind of helpers?" the youth asked curiously.

"The most terrifying in the world—Divine Demon Holy Embryo."

Just those eight words made the youth's brow twitch. He eyed the cave warily, instinctively took a step, but faltered after half a stride.

"What are you? How do you know so much? And why did you teach me Techniques to counter her Daoist Skill?" The youth's eyes darkened, suspicion in his voice.

"A name?"

Inside the cave, the strange voice sounded again. It paused, then continued: "You may call me…"

"Thousand-Year-Old Demon!"