In the images, the young Su Ming displayed astonishing talent in arithmetic class, proposing the "method of investigating things through examination." Later, when he came into contact with formation plates, those intricate patterns seemed to possess a unique life in his eyes. He was always able to deconstruct and reconstruct them from an extremely tricky, even counter-intuitive angle.

These fragments, even under the old woman's critical gaze, were shockingly brilliant.

This was absolutely not something a wandering cultivator who had merely obtained a few fragmented mnemonics could accomplish. It displayed an extremely mature, systematic logical thinking, even... carrying a sense of "strangeness" that felt unfamiliar to Cui Yan.

It was a kind of "deconstructive" thinking, detached from this cultivation world, calm to the point of being almost cold.

"If no one taught him this, this old woman will eat this walking stick."

The cold glint in the old woman's eyes intensified, the purple threads frantically churning, attempting to find the shadow of that "instructor" within these scenes.

Su Ming's second layer of defense quietly activated at this moment.

"Master, she's taken the bait as expected," Su Ming silently recited in his heart. Though his face was as pale as paper, deep within his soul was an icy clarity.

"Then let her see some 'real substance'," Lin Yu's voice was steady. "Remember, the difference between a true genius and a fake one lies in whether they can 'make their story consistent.' You must make her believe you are a monster forged under pressure."

Su Ming actively guided the flow of memory.

The mirror surface rippled, and the scene changed.

It was countless late nights.

The young Su Ming huddled alone in a corner of the woodshed, using the moonlight seeping through the window cracks, staring intently at a basic, cracked formation plate he had salvaged from the scrap pile.

His eyes were bloodshot, his fingers blistered from excessive force. He tried again and again, failing repeatedly. Spiritual energy backlash wracked his body with pain, making him convulse. But he was like a tireless madman, getting up, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth, and continuing to draw, continuing to calculate.

Occasionally, fragmented dream sequences flashed through the images.

These were some hazy light and shadow projections from the residual "consciousness" within the Xuantian ring when Su Ming was utterly exhausted. Those projections contained some seemingly profound, yet ultimately hollow "ultimate truths of formations"—nonsense specifically fabricated by Lin Yu, conforming to the style of ancient formation cultivators of this world, yet having no practical use.

Such as "Formations are born of heaven, defiance begets malevolence," or "Spirit undergoes nine transformations, each transformation a new heaven."

Su Ming revered this "nonsense" as gospel. Under the pressure of life and death, combined with his own arithmetic talent, he stubbornly derived his own, unorthodox set of formation logic from these fragmented phrases.

In the images, after countless failures, the young Su Ming finally succeeded in carving his first crooked, yet functional Spirit Gathering rune. At that moment, the wild joy and tears on his face were genuinely moving.

"Self-taught? Sudden enlightenment?"

The old woman watched this scene, her brows gradually furrowing into a deep crease.

The logical loop was closed.

A prodigiously talented youth, receiving a bit of fragmented guidance, forced by the will to survive, chewed up, swallowed, and stubbornly digested that fragmented knowledge into something of his own.

This was plausible.

But the old woman was deeply displeased.

This feeling was like she was peeling an onion, layer after layer. Although each layer fit perfectly, she always felt that at the core was not the heart of an onion, but a stone.

Especially that ring.

In all the memory images, it remained like a silent backdrop, occasionally flickering, but always blurry, passive, and powerless. This excessive "low profile" only deepened the suspicion in Cui Yan's heart.

"Clever words and a pleasing countenance!"

The old woman suddenly let out a furious roar, her patience completely exhausted.

"Guidance in dreams? Sudden enlightenment under life-and-death pressure? This kind of child's trick, and you think you can fool this old woman?"

She abruptly raised her head. The murky purple light in her aged eyes blazed brilliantly. The withered wooden walking stick no longer pointed at the mirror surface but was raised high and brought down heavily on the void!

*Thud—!*

The entire Heart-Questioning Platform shook violently.

The deep purple light cluster that had enveloped Su Ming, no longer flowing gently, suddenly collapsed inward and solidified, transforming into a massive purple light cocoon.

Those few purple probing threads swimming in the river of memory were violently yanked out from the mirror surface. They tangled and fused in the air, instantly converging into a substantial purple beam as thick as a wrist, its tip sharp as a cone.

This purple beam carried a shriek that made souls tremble. Disregarding those superficial memory scenes, it adopted a brute-force, unreasonable stance, viciously stabbing toward the deepest part of Su Ming's soul perception—

There lay the sole, fundamental link connecting Su Ming's soul to the Xuantian ring.

"Since you refuse to tell the truth, then this old woman will see for herself what kind of monsters and demons are hidden inside this ring!"

This was a direct soul-searching attack targeting the origin!

Ruthless, decisive. The slightest mishap could leave the victim with damaged souls, turning them into an idiot, or worse, scattering their souls to the winds on the spot.

"Shit! This old hag has gone mad!"

Lin Yu's tone, which had maintained a sense of humor, instantly changed, becoming urgent and sharp. "Su Ming! Guard your Spiritual Platform!"

"Master..."

Su Ming only had time to cry out these two words in his heart.

*Boom!*

That thick purple beam slammed fiercely into the depths of his soul.

It wasn't physical pain, but rather as if someone had placed his soul on a millstone and was grinding it to pieces.

Su Ming's body arched violently backward. His eyeballs instantly filled with blood and bulged out. Two streams of dark red blood snaked down from his nostrils and ear canals. His mouth gaped open, but no sound emerged, only a "heh, heh" gasping from his throat.

In his perceptual world, the Xuantian ring, which had always been connected to his bloodline, warm and smooth as jade, began to violently shake under the impact of this domineering force.

The layer of dull, gray "ordinary iron" shell that Su Ming had meticulously crafted to disguise the ring's surface emitted faint, strained sounds.

*Crack.*

A crack invisible to the naked eye quietly appeared in Su Ming's soul projection.

That was Lin Yu's constructed "first layer of disguise" beginning to disintegrate.

"Open... for me!"

The old woman shrieked fiercely, pressing her walking stick down again. The purple beam spun wildly like a drill bit, attempting to pry open the ring's internal space by force along that crack.

At this very moment, Su Ming's pupils, which had begun to dilate from the excruciating pain, suddenly contracted to the size of pinpricks.

Since you want to see, then I'll let you see your fill!

Only, what you'll see is the "truth" I want you to see!

Deep within Su Ming's soul, that layer of "Like Water Art" spiritual energy membrane enveloping Lin Yu did not shatter. Instead, using the compression from the external force, it instantly completed its final "solidification."

The old woman sneered ferociously, gathering her strength for the ultimate breakthrough.

Simultaneously, on the periphery of the Illusory Wave Sea, a white figure quietly arrived, frowning slightly as he looked toward the direction of the Heart-Questioning Platform.