She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 47

"The house... has collapsed..."

Not only did Yin Wangyou demonstrate extraordinary talent in gossip, greatly enriching Yan Luoyue's database of information, but she also excelled in her professional work.

Yan Luoyue had initially thought that after Shen Jingxuan delivered the Foundation Establishment Grass to Yin Wangyou, they would have to wait a while before receiving the final customized Foundation Establishment Pill.

To her surprise, Yin Wangyou didn’t delay at all.

Right in front of Yan Luoyue and Shen Jingxuan, she lit the furnace, began refining the medicine, and completed the process in one seamless motion.

In less than an hour, a bright vermilion Foundation Establishment Pill was successfully crafted.

When the furnace was opened, a faint medicinal fragrance wafted out. Just a single whiff was enough to lift one’s spirits and soothe the mind.

Yan Luoyue immediately praised, "Excellent medicine, such refined technique, and such a flawless 'Revitalization'!"

Some alchemists, when opening their furnaces, would go to great lengths to create a grand spectacle. The medicinal aroma from their cauldrons could stretch from one end of the street to the other.

But those in the know would mock this as "the fragrance of medicine fearing no depth of the alley."

True connoisseurs understood that an overpowering medicinal scent only meant the alchemist lacked finesse in the final, most crucial step of "Revitalization," causing the medicinal potency to dissipate as fragrance.

A pill whose scent remained subtle, releasing only a wisp upon opening the furnace, was proof that its potency had been perfectly preserved.

The round pill lay quietly in the alchemy furnace, its surface adorned with nine silver medicinal spirals—the highest grade achievable for a Foundation Establishment Pill.

To an outsider like Shen Jingxuan, the number of spirals was all that mattered.

Seeing the nine silver spirals, she knew this was undoubtedly a premium, high-quality Foundation Establishment Pill.

After sincerely thanking Yin Wangyou, Shen Jingxuan took the pill and requested Yan Luoyue and Yin Wangyou to stand guard for her. She then swallowed the pill, sat cross-legged on the ground, and began her breakthrough to Foundation Establishment.

While Shen Jingxuan was advancing, Yin Wangyou and Yan Luoyue didn’t idle either.

Yan Luoyue compared the "Tempering" and "Revitalization" techniques and shared a few of the flame-control tricks commonly used by refiners with Yin Wangyou.

In return, Yin Wangyou didn’t hold back.

Not only did she generously share her alchemy insights, but she also imparted cultivation experience, using Shen Jingxuan—who was currently breaking through—as a live demonstration.

"Look, Jingxuan’s face is half-red and half-blue, divided along the midline from her forehead to the tip of her nose. This is because, during Foundation Establishment, the yin and yang energies in the dantian converge, condensing qi into liquid. When you undergo Foundation Establishment, pay attention to the following points in your qi circulation..."

Yan Luoyue listened intently and even pulled out a small notebook to jot down all the key points.

After all, she was still a student—naturally, her storage pouch would contain a few lecture notes.

While scribbling furiously, Yan Luoyue asked, "Wangyou, have you already reached Foundation Establishment?"

At first, she had assumed Yin Wangyou’s knowledge came from her expertise as a medical cultivator.

But as Yin Wangyou went into vivid detail about the sensations of qi flowing through meridians, Yan Luoyue realized this was more like a personal account.

"Yes," Yin Wangyou admitted. "I refined my own medicine and reached Foundation Establishment long ago. The moon is closest to those by the waterside, after all."

It made sense—just as Yan Luoyue, a refiner, had armed herself to the teeth.

But considering how Yin Wangyou and Shen Jingxuan had first met—when Shen Jingxuan, still at Qi Refining, had rescued Yin Wangyou, already a Foundation Establishment cultivator...

Well... emmmmmmm...

Yan Luoyue wasn’t surprised that Shen Jingxuan could overpower a Foundation Establishment cultivator.

In her eyes, the little nun was a fierce warrior capable of taking on eight opponents at once.

But Yin Wangyou’s combat abilities seemed... lacking.

While alchemists didn’t necessarily need strong fighting skills, they should at least have some sense of self-preservation!

Yan Luoyue grasped Yin Wangyou’s hands and shook them earnestly.

"Wangyou, you’ve got to step up your game—at least max out your escape skills! As a medical cultivator, you might have to deal with disgruntled patients!"

Yan Luoyue: "..."

Normally, consuming a standard Foundation Establishment Pill would require half a day of meditation to cross the threshold.

But a custom-made pill was no ordinary product.

In less than half an hour, Shen Jingxuan opened her eyes. The qi circulating around her had grown denser than before.

The moment she awoke, she radiated vitality, and even her pupils seemed to flicker with a faint golden light.

"Jingxuan, how do you feel?"

Shen Jingxuan smiled, flexed her fist, and gauged her newfound strength.

"Utterly complete. This humble nun thanks you both."

After witnessing Shen Jingxuan’s breakthrough firsthand, Yan Luoyue’s eyes sparkled with excitement.

She had already paid the deposit for customized Foundation Establishment Pills for her two brothers.

Originally, she planned to bring them over during the next school break so Yin Wangyou could tailor their pills.

Now, that wasn’t necessary.

Yan Luoyue paid for round-trip expenses and took Yin Wangyou back with her immediately.

Yes, this was the extravagant way of a successful refiner.

Spirit stones? Don’t worry—name your price, and she could afford it.

Materials? No problem—with her network of partners, they had plenty to spare!

As a fledgling alchemist still scraping by, Yin Wangyou was awestruck by Yan Luoyue’s lavishness.

Though outsiders might mistake Yin Wangyou for being aloof, those who knew her realized she was simply reserved, deeply engrossed in her passions, and a tad too earnest—sometimes to the point of single-mindedness.

In fact, when it came to financial matters, Yin Wangyou displayed an honest enthusiasm.

She immediately sought advice: "Master, how can I become as wealthy as you?"

Yan Luoyue smiled gently and reassured her, "Don’t overthink it—it’s not easy."

While refiners were generally well-off, even among peers of the same cultivation level, few could match Yan Luoyue’s earnings.

After all, she possessed two core advantages:

First, her unparalleled ability to advertise—creating demand where none existed.

Second, her mastery of assembly-line production.

On the way back, Shen Jingxuan quietly sent Yan Luoyue a voice transmission.

"Luoyue, you’re in such a hurry to get them to Foundation Establishment... is it because of the Thousand-Faced Demon?"

Yan Luoyue pondered for a moment before admitting, "That’s part of it."

"And the other part?"

"Lately, those two have been... increasingly lacking in virtue," Yan Luoyue said bluntly. "I figure it’s best to boost their strength so they don’t get beaten to death while wandering around..."

Shen Jingxuan: "..."

Shen Jingxuan clasped her hands together and murmured piously, "Amitabha. You’re absolutely right, Luoyue."

And so, before Yan Gan and Sang Ji could provoke someone into pummeling them, Yin Wangyou refined their Foundation Establishment Pills and delivered them to the Turtle Clan’s territory.

Watching her two brothers swallow the pills and smoothly advance, Yan Luoyue thought with satisfaction:

Excellent. Now, the survival rate of my two idiot brothers has risen again.

But what Yan Luoyue never expected was that, deep down, Yan Gan and Sang Ji harbored the exact same concern for her.

For example, Yan Gan was propping his chin with one hand, gazing worriedly at Yan Luoyue’s back.

Even without meeting his eyes, Yan Luoyue could sense the weight of his stare.

“Bro, what if when classes get reassigned this spring, both of us move up to the Yuan class, but our little sister ends up in the Heng class? Won’t she get bullied?”

Yan Luoyue turned her head and shot Yan Gan a silent, sidelong glance without saying a word.

The arrival of spring meant Yan Luoyue would have definitely celebrated her fifth birthday by then.

In other words, her health points would skyrocket to a hundred thousand.

With her HP multiplied tenfold, Yan Luoyue could sweep through the entire academy if she wanted—whether she’d be bullied or not depended entirely on her mood, not anyone else’s.

Sang Ji’s concerns weren’t as trivial.

He believed the academy was right under their noses, making it unlikely for any real danger to arise.

“Don’t worry. Even though our little sister has grown up and can’t fake injuries as easily now, she’s on good terms with Mr. Jiang. If she gets bullied, won’t she just report it to the teacher?”

Compared to potential conflicts in the academy, Sang Ji thought the real threats came from outside.

“Little sis, is your identity as an artificer really secure? Won’t it attract assassins? Won’t you suddenly run into collapsing ground while walking? Or get caught in a street brawl?—And most importantly, are you sure you don’t need me and your brother to tag along?”

He and Yan Gan had already reached the Foundation Establishment stage and were itching to spread their wings!

Yan Luoyue didn’t even need to open her eyes to know what he was scheming. “No, really, no need. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Still, she took Sang Ji’s bizarre worries to heart.

She planned to incorporate them into the persona of “Yan Bixin—The Overly Cautious Artificer.”

As for external dangers…

Yan Luoyue was utterly unfazed. “What I’m crafting right now is my own contingency plan.”

Indeed, even as she chatted with her two brothers, her hands never stopped working.

Sang Ji and Yan Gan had long been curious about what was inside the artificing furnace.

They watched intently as Yan Luoyue finally opened the furnace door and pulled out… huh?

She pulled out a… a fragmented version of herself?!

Yan Gan and Sang Ji shot to their feet in unison. “Little sis, this is NOT the kind of thing you should be crafting! This is straight-up inauspicious!”

After emptying the furnace of parts, Yan Luoyue sat on the floor and began assembling them with meticulous precision.

Her small hands flew across the components, all while explaining her micro-adjustments to her brothers.

“I want to completely separate the identities of ‘Yan Bixin’ and ‘Xing Biguo.’”

Senior Brother Yan Bixin, of course, was the mysterious, overly cautious, black-robed artificer who valued his life above all else.

Junior Sister Xing Biguo, on the other hand, could be linked to Yan Luoyue, the little girl from the Turtle Clan.

As for the enigmatic master… well, for now, Yan Luoyue had no plans to bring this third persona into play.

So far, no one had suspected that all three identities were actually the same person. But Yan Luoyue had to nip such speculation in the bud.

The “master” hadn’t even made an appearance—just a name used to intimidate—so he could be ignored for now.

But for “Senior Brother” and “Junior Sister” to be fully convincing, they needed to appear together in public at least once to shut down any dangerous theories.

At first, Yan Luoyue had considered asking someone to play Yan Bixin.

After all, Yan Bixin’s face had never been seen, making him easier to impersonate.

But reality proved that the black-robed artificer’s neurotic, paranoid aura was the culmination of Yan Luoyue’s four years of refinement.

She’d tried draping the black robe over Yan Gan, Sang Ji, and even Shen Jingxuan (who wore hidden platform shoes), but none of them felt right.

Once the Yan Bixin persona was on, with the face hidden under the hood, it all came down to presence.

Under the cloak, Yan Gan was like a husky finally given free rein to wreck the house.

Sang Ji was slightly better—more like a border collie who shredded a pillow but at least had the sense to hide the evidence under the sofa.

As for Shen Jingxuan… she was a purebred Tibetan mastiff who could miss the check-in point entirely and get lost all the way to Huajin Prefecture.

Unless their acquaintances were blind, how could they not notice the sudden transformation of the composed master into a chaotic mess?!

Yan Luoyue instantly made the “old man squinting at phone” face and crossed out Plan A in agony.

That left only the second option: Yan Luoyue would create a new “Junior Sister Yan Luoyue.”

Upon reflection, this approach was surprisingly feasible.

After all, if the senior brother and junior sister appeared together, the spotlight would naturally fall on the mysterious, wealthy artificer rather than the relatively unknown girl.

In other words, the junior sister accompanying Yan Bixin was just a human-shaped accessory.

And if she was just an accessory… why not craft one?!

Yan Luoyue smiled serenely. “As the saying goes, ‘There’s no problem in the world that can’t be solved by artificing. If there is, just artificer harder.’”

“Really?” Sang Ji seized the moment to voice his doubts. “For example, if I wanted Mr. Jiang to look at me with admiration, could that also be solved by artificing?”

Yan Luoyue: “…”

Ignoring the absurdity of the question, Yan Luoyue gave him a beatific smile.

“Bro Ji, it’s time I taught you the second half of that saying—‘If artificing can’t solve the problem, then artificer the person causing the problem.’”

Sang Ji: “…”

Sang Ji fell silent. Yan Luoyue had resolved the issue with nuclear-level efficiency.

Running through the plan for Yan Bixin and Xing Biguo’s joint appearance in her mind, Yan Luoyue found it smooth as silk.

Any potential weak points could be patched up with technical adjustments.

And that was why Yan Luoyue had pulled a replica of herself out of the artificing furnace.

This puppet, crafted, assembled, and finalized by Yan Luoyue, had her height, her face (though it wouldn’t hold up under close scrutiny), a similar aura, and a pre-recorded set of a hundred common phrases.

All it needed was a thin veil, a hooded cloak to block spiritual sense, and the excuse of “my junior sister isn’t much of a talker,” and voilà—Xing Biguo in the flesh.

Yan Luoyue had it all planned out. On the day of Zhen Zhuo’er’s birthday banquet, she would make an appearance with “Junior Sister Xing Biguo” in tow.

For the first half, she’d focus on solidifying the authenticity of the Yan Bixin persona.

Since Yan Bixin was a severe paranoiac, it would be perfectly reasonable for him to leave early, overwhelmed by the crowd.

Once Yan Bixin made his “exit,” Yan Luoyue could pack away the “puppet Xing Biguo” and take on the role herself.

For the second half, she’d reinforce the realism of “Junior Sister Xing Biguo.”

This way, both her personas—Yan Bixin and Xing Biguo—would be ironclad.

At Zhen Zhuo’er’s birthday banquet, the mysterious black-robed artificer Yan Bixin arrived, accompanied by his junior sister, Xing Biguo.

As a trusted confidant of Zhen Zhuo'er, the manager of Zhaoxin Residence spotted the figures of the master-disciple pair from afar and hurried out to greet them.

Before even reaching them, the manager's face had already broken into a welcoming, business-friendly smile.

"Master Yan, you've arrived."

He bowed slightly, offering a kindly smile to the young girl:

"This must be Master Yan's junior sister, Fellow Cultivator Xing. Little Fellow Cultivator, do you remember? We’ve met once before."

"...Hello, Manager."

During the exchange, the manager couldn’t help but notice that Fellow Cultivator Xing Biguo was wearing a black cloak identical to Master Yan’s.

Ensuring not a single glimpse of her face was revealed, she also wore the same silver-scaled gloves as her senior brother, covering every inch of skin meticulously.

Beyond that, her posture—slightly bowed head, reluctant to engage—was uncannily similar to Master Yan’s.

The manager: "..."

Truly, one takes on the color of their company.

Now, as the manager recalled the lively, adorable little girl from a few years ago, it felt like a lifetime ago.

Though it was highly improper, a rebellious thought inevitably rose in his heart—

If I ever had a daughter, I’d never entrust her to a senior brother like Master Yan.

What a bright and spirited girl she used to be! And in just three or four years, she’s been taught into complete social withdrawal!

Outwardly, however, none of his inner turmoil showed.

With warm enthusiasm, he exchanged pleasantries and guided Master Yan and his junior sister toward the courtyard.

As expected, the moment Master Yan saw the bustling crowd of guests in the courtyard, his steps faltered involuntarily.

The manager observed this and smiled knowingly.

To his knowledge, Master Yan believed that crowded places were inevitably mixed with unsavory characters—who knew what ill-intentioned individuals might slip in?

At this thought, the manager shook his head slightly, finding it somewhat absurd.

If it were any other occasion, fine.

But today was their host’s birthday banquet.

Over the past few years, Zhen Zhuo'er had skillfully wielded her original subordinates and the newly subdued Lu family’s forces to bring Ruyi City firmly under her control. She was now the undisputed ruler of the city.

Every ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​‍guest invited to the manor today—who would be so tactless as to cause trouble on such a joyous occasion?

The thought flashed by, and the manager quickly said, "Knowing Master’s aversion to crowds, if you don’t mind our lack of hospitality, perhaps we could take a detour through the rear courtyard?"

Yan Bixin hesitated only briefly before nodding.

"Very well. Thank you, Manager."

Then, with a tone that was two or three parts deliberate nonchalance, he added, "Later... I have some trivial matters to attend to and may need to leave early. My junior sister will remain here. I hope our host will forgive the discourtesy."

Avoiding outsiders was an old habit of Master Yan’s, and the manager was long accustomed to it.

In fact, he’d half-expected Master Yan to send only gifts and skip the event entirely.

That the master had come in person—and even brought his junior sister—was already a great honor.

Neither Zhen Zhuo'er nor the manager would dream of taking offense.

Just as they entered the banquet hall through the back door, Master Yan halted again.

He suddenly looked up, inexplicably glancing toward the ceiling.

Then, instead of walking down the neatly laid red carpet, he hugged the wall, skirting the edges of the room.

The odd behavior immediately drew several scrutinizing gazes.

The manager, ever the gracious escort, cheerfully followed Master Yan along the wall.

"With so many guests today, it must be too noisy for Master’s taste."

Beneath the cloak, Yan Bixin gave a slight shake of his head.

In a hoarse voice, he explained, "Whenever I enter an unfamiliar place, I never pass beneath beams or casually ascend floors."

Intrigued, the manager asked, "Might I ask why, Master?"

Yan Bixin paused briefly.

"Without personally inspecting it, how can you be sure the building won’t collapse?"

Buildings—whether physical, metaphorical, or constructed through marketing—were best approached with caution.

After all, structures of any kind were far too prone to crumbling!

...Well then.

The manager’s first thought was that Master’s paranoia seemed to have worsened.

But then another realization struck him: "Yet every time Master visits Zhaoxin Residence, I’ve invited you to the fourth floor for tea..."

The cloaked artificer gave a faint nod.

"Exactly as you’ve guessed," Yan Bixin rasped. "I’ve inspected the structural integrity of Zhaoxin Residence."

The manager: "..."

Though it wasn’t his place to say, he couldn’t help but think: Master, with the fortune you earn in a year, perhaps you could spare some coins for calming elixirs.

First there was the man of Qi who feared the sky might fall; now there was Master Yan, wary of collapsing buildings. Truly, a tale for the ages.

Yet this banquet was held in Zhen Zhuo'er’s favorite villa, meticulously maintained by her servants. How could it possibly collapse?

Hah! Clearly, Master was being excessively cautious.

The star of the birthday celebration, Zhen Zhuo'er, stood at the center of the hall.

Her radiant face glowed with joy as she chatted amiably with guests.

Spotting Yan Bixin’s arrival, she swiftly approached.

Master Yan raised a hand in distant acknowledgment.

It was then that the manager noticed a peculiar detail.

Beneath the identical loose black cloaks, a dark wristband connected Master Yan and his junior sister’s arms.

Baffled, the manager asked, "Master, what’s the reason for this?"

Under the hood, Master Yan turned his head slightly, as if glancing his way.

"With the recent uproar over the Thousand-Faced Demon, I’ve tethered my junior sister to my wrist to prevent her from being swapped out."

The manager: "..."

The sheer practicality of the reasoning left him momentarily speechless.

He forced a stiff smile.

"Master’s foresight is truly unparalleled. Though, if the Thousand-Faced Demon dared target you or your junior sister, it would be sorely lacking in judgment."

The manager would stake decades of people-reading experience on this: if an imposter replaced Yan Bixin’s beloved junior sister, Master Yan would sniff out the fraud within a thousandth of a snap.

The reasons could range from the imposter stepping forward with the wrong foot first, coughing incorrectly, or failing to curl the last syllable of "Senior Brother" just so...

What kind of self-destructive fool would the Thousand-Faced Demon have to be, ignoring the entirety of Yunning Great Marsh, to infiltrate the host’s birthday banquet?

And what rotten luck to pick, of all people, the most paranoid master-disciple pair in attendance for impersonation!

Even without an abacus, the manager knew the odds were infinitesimally close to zero.

Shaking his head inwardly, he took his leave as Master Yan and the host engaged in lively conversation.

Zhen Zhuo'er was all smiles, her spirits high from the celebratory occasion.

Already stunning, today she was positively radiant, her laughter bright enough to steal one’s breath away.

Standing beside Zhen Zhuo'er was a pair of brothers, both possessing an ethereal and extraordinary appearance.

The elder brother was refined and scholarly, with delicate bone structure, draped in a loose crane-feather cloak that only accentuated his slender, straight waist and clean-cut silhouette.

The younger brother resembled a jade tree in the courtyard or an orchid by the steps—his features still carried a hint of youthful innocence, yet his aura was transcendent and otherworldly. The young lad was clad entirely in snow-white robes, save for a few black embroidered patterns at the cuffs.

On the foreheads of both brothers was painted a vermilion mark resembling a flame.

Their skin was already fair, and this crimson streak was like a plum blossom resting upon snow—elegant, striking, and further enhancing their celestial charm.

Yan Luoyue’s gaze lingered on the brothers for an unconscious moment.

Noticing her reaction, Zhen Zhuo'er took the initiative to introduce them, casting a glance at "Junior Sister Xing Biguo" as she spoke.

"Master Yan, these two are historians from the Crane Clan. The elder brother is Ling Shuying, and the younger is Ling Shuanghun. They originally planned to pass through Ruyi City to stay with the Turtle Clan for a while, but I shamelessly invited them to grace my humble birthday celebration."

When mentioning the "Turtle Clan," Zhen Zhuo'er subtly emphasized the words.

Hearing her explanation, Yan Luoyue suddenly understood.

No wonder their appearances were so transcendent—they were cranes.

Her eyes unconsciously flicked once more to the vermilion marks on their foreheads, and she thought to herself: These brothers must be red-crowned crane spirits.

The demon races originally had no tradition of recording history.

Their past was preserved through the legends passed down by elders, the myths told to lull children to sleep, the nursery rhymes sung by playful youngsters, and the memories of ancestors who had lived for thousands of years—these were the historical records of the demon races.

The practice of chronicling history was adopted from humans three thousand years ago, during the Demon-Subduing War.

At that time, humans and demons had already planned to split into two factions, leaving this world behind to venture into the unknown void.

They were on the verge of embarking on a journey—one of uncertain length, distance, and whether they would ever return.

It was then that the demon races universally realized the irreplaceable importance of history.

The past could illuminate the path forward; bygone days could soothe the spirit.

As long as they remembered their origins, their descendants would never forget the direction from which they came.

From that moment on, the position of "historian" emerged among the demon races.

Though it came with no fixed salary, historians were universally respected and welcomed wherever they went.

Typically, historians were often bird spirits, and the Crane Clan was one such lineage.

Controlling "Xing Biguo," Yan Luoyue gave a slight bow, while Yan Bixin also nodded amiably at the Ling brothers.

"So you are the Crane Clan historians—truly, seeing you in person surpasses mere reputation."

As the hostess of the banquet, Zhen Zhuo'er did not linger for long.

She only had time to exchange a few pleasantries with Master Yan, accept his congratulatory gift, and then hurried off.

As for the crane brothers, the elder occasionally leaned down to whisper something to the younger—likely imparting techniques for recording such events.

Aside from a few fixed individuals, Yan Bixin did not know many people in Ruyi City.

Seizing an opportunity and estimating that the effects of the Age-Increasing Pill were wearing off, the black-robed artificer left the main hall with his "junior sister" to get some air in the courtyard.

Yan Luoyue found a secluded, unoccupied corner, intending to stow away the "puppet Xing Biguo" and then take on the role of Xing Biguo herself.

If anyone asked about Yan Bixin’s whereabouts, she would simply reply: "Senior Brother has already left, but he asked me to stay and attend the host’s banquet."

Right on schedule, the pill’s effects dissipated, and Yan Luoyue reverted to her childlike form.

Making sure no one was around, she first stored the puppet body, then draped herself in Xing Biguo’s black cloak.

Once everything was arranged, "Xing Biguo" smoothed out the wrinkles on her gloves, brushed off the hem of her robe, and leisurely strode back into the hall.

Beneath the cloak, Xing Biguo wore a polite smile.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the shopkeeper and Master Ding conversing nearby and prepared to greet them.

However, the moment Xing Biguo’s left foot crossed the threshold, an unexpected disturbance erupted in the hall!

At the same time, the shopkeeper and Master Ding clinked their wine cups, discussing recent events.

Shopkeeper: "By the way, old friend, I was the one who escorted Master Yan to the host’s birthday banquet today. Master Yan has always preferred quiet and worries that crowded places are chaotic, making him vulnerable to ambushes. Hahaha, as if that could ever happen—"

Before he could finish, the sharp sound of cups shattering on the ground echoed through the room!

The shopkeeper’s words died in his throat.

His eyes widened in shock as he looked around—more than a dozen solemn-faced cultivators had risen from among the guests.

Individually, they seemed entirely unremarkable.

But when they stood together, everyone noticed how strikingly similar their attire, demeanor, and bearing were.

"..."

At the head of the table, Zhen Zhuo'er smiled faintly, calmly raising her wine cup.

"As the saying goes, a guest is a guest. Today is a joyous occasion—if you refuse to drink freely, does that mean I have failed in my hospitality?"

Watching this scene unfold, the shopkeeper blinked slowly.

For some reason, a long-dormant sense of familiarity began to stir in his heart...

Master Ding urgently kicked the shopkeeper under the table.

Without moving his lips, he transmitted a message: "Old friend, did Master Yan say anything else?"

The shopkeeper carefully set his cup down, forcing himself to remain composed.

"With more people comes more schemes, and conflicting factions are inevitable. But Master Yan’s second concern was truly excessive."

"—What did Master Yan say?"

Steadying himself, the shopkeeper recalled Master Yan’s almost whimsical precautions and finally cracked a smile.

He raised a finger and pointed at the ceiling beams. "The master actually thought the roof might collapse. Don’t you find that amusing?"

Following his gesture, Master Ding instinctively looked upward.

At the same moment, one of the cultivators stepped forward and bowed to Zhen Zhuo'er.

"Acting City Lord, you are too kind. Our master is on his way and wishes to meet with you in person."

"Oh?" Zhen Zhuo'er arched an eyebrow. "Then may I ask where your esteemed master is at this moment?"

The cultivator glanced at the communication device at his waist and replied, "My master... has arrived!"

The instant the words left his mouth, a deafening crash resounded above their heads!

With a thunderous boom—and without the slightest warning—a dark, iron-like object smashed straight through the roof.

The object did not immediately land. Instead, it hovered in the air for a split second, its outer shell releasing a cushion of soft air that blew away all people and objects beneath it.

The moment the guests scattered, the pitch-black travel artifact plunged vertically into the banquet hall with tremendous force.

When it finally hit the ground, the floor beneath everyone’s feet trembled violently.

"..."

Fortunately, the magical artifact was equipped with a wind vortex formation that pushed the guests away from the impact point with a gust of wind beforehand. Otherwise, if anyone had been crushed beneath it, the outcome would have been unthinkable.

Then, the artifact's lid lifted, and a middle-aged man descended the steps unhurriedly.

"Chiyu City's Lord Meng Zhun, here to congratulate Fellow Cultivator Zhen on her birthday."

Lord Meng Zhun had a square-jawed face, stern and dignified in appearance. Yet, for some reason, the corners of his lips curled into a roguish, mocking smile, creating an unsettling contrast.

The moment this man appeared, over a dozen cultivators immediately bowed in greeting. "City Lord."

Meanwhile, the smile on Zhen Zhuo'er's face faded slightly.

"So it's the Lord of Chiyu City. May I ask why you’ve traveled thousands of miles to barge into my birthday celebration?"

Meng Zhun waved his hand with a laugh.

"I was in a bit of a hurry, so the artifact missed its mark and accidentally put a hole in the Acting City Lord’s roof. Truly unintentional—my apologies. Still, this artifact was personally refined by me, and its performance is indeed excellent."

"Horses stumble, men err, and even artifacts can occasionally misfire. Acting City Lord, please don’t take it to heart."

Under the table, Master Ding’s hand unconsciously gripped his old friend’s bony, claw-like fingers.

His beard quivered as he forced out the words one by one:

"The… roof… collapsed…"

The roof had actually collapsed!

Their master’s house—right in front of them—had its roof smashed in!

The shopkeeper’s expression was so indescribably complex that words failed him. His right eyelid had been twitching nonstop since the artifact crashed through the roof.

"I saw it, old friend. Just… give me a moment to process this…"

He wanted to catch his breath, but Master Ding was in no mood for patience.

Hidden beneath the table, Master Ding shook the shopkeeper’s arm back and forth.

"Quick! What else did Master Yan say? Spit it all out now!"

Dizziness—that was the shopkeeper’s first sensation.

Slowly, he was beginning to remember. This creeping sense of misfortune, this increasingly familiar scene… it had happened to him before.

"Master didn’t say anything else… Oh, except that he tied himself to his junior sister, saying he was afraid of being impersonated by the Thousand-Faced Demon…"

As he uttered the last few words, his voice grew quieter and weaker, as if even he found the statement absurd enough to laugh at.

"Even if the Thousand-Faced Demon really snuck in and turned this already chaotic mess into an outright disaster, there’s no way it would specifically target Yan—"

This time, before he could finish, Master Ding cut him off bluntly.

"Old friend, for heaven’s sake, stop talking."

Master Ding sighed deeply. "Speaking of which, where is Master Yan now?"

His gaze swept the room before settling on one spot.

Yan Gan had already left, but Xing Biguo remained standing at the entrance.

She had one foot poised over the threshold, having witnessed the entire spectacle of Lord Meng Zhun’s disruptive arrival.

Just as she was about to step into the hall, a cold, soft hand suddenly reached out from the side and clasped Xing Biguo’s warm little fingers.

"……"

Xing Biguo looked up to see a figure dressed identically to "Yan Gan," their face obscured in shadow, yet naturally holding her hand as if it were the most ordinary thing.

Noticing Xing Biguo’s momentary daze, Yan Gan tilted his head slightly and asked in an utterly casual tone:

"What’s wrong, Little Guo?"

Yan Luoyue: "……"

Little Guo, my ass.

Oh, my dear friend, do you even realize who you’re impersonating right now?

Perhaps Xing Biguo’s silence gave the "black-robed artificer" too much confidence.

"Yan Gan" quickly adopted a senior brother’s authoritative tone and chided her softly.

"Stick close to me and don’t wander off. There have been rumors about the Thousand-Faced Demon in Yunning Great Marsh lately—it’s dangerous. Have you no consideration for your senior brother? Do you know how I’d feel if I turned around and found you gone?"

Yan Luoyue: "……"

To be perfectly honest, at this moment, Yan Luoyue really wanted to snap back: And what about me?

Do you have any idea how I feel, turning around to find another goddamn Yan Gan standing there?!

The Thousand-Faced Demon warning its prey about the Thousand-Faced Demon—what a joke. The irony is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

At this very moment, in the center of the hall, the two city lords stood locked in a silent standoff.

Meanwhile, at the entrance, Yan Luoyue and the Thousand-Faced Demon stared at each other in mutual bewilderment.

The demon had chosen its target carefully before making its move.

It had observed that this little girl was extremely withdrawn—the type who wouldn’t make a sound even if poked eight times with a stick.

A useless, timid snack of a person who wouldn’t even know how to cry for help if she realized her companion had been replaced.

So when Yan Luoyue didn’t respond, the demon wasn’t bothered in the slightest. It simply held her hand and led her inside.

New n𝙤vel chapters are published on novelbuddy.cσ๓.

"Let’s go in. Looks lively enough."

Might as well use this identity to lure in a few more prey while it was at it.

One little girl alone wasn’t enough to satisfy its appetite.

Yan Luoyue took a deep breath.

The black-robed artificer asked kindly, "Are you hungry? What would you like to eat later? I’ll serve you."

—Later, it would use this girl as its "chopsticks" to pick out its meals one by one. Heh.

Yan Luoyue had already silently steeled herself.

The black-robed artificer stood at the doorway, surveying the hall with smug satisfaction, as if it were an all-you-can-eat buffet.

And then, in the next instant, the demon heard the little girl beside it raise her voice and shout:

"Intermission! Both city lords, hold the small talk—there’s a Thousand-Faced Demon right here!!!"

Everyone: "……"

Huh? Another one?

Was today’s birthday banquet cursed or something? One disaster after another!

To everyone’s surprise, the first person to react to the words "Thousand-Faced Demon" wasn’t the highest-level cultivator present (Lord Meng Zhun), nor the host of the banquet (Zhen Zhuo'er), but the shopkeeper of Zhaoxin Residence, who had been sitting quietly until now.

Crack! The chair beneath the shopkeeper split apart in tandem with his expression, drawing startled glances from those nearby.

And for some reason, Master Ding, seated across from him, also looked as if he’d been struck by lightning.

The two unfortunate old men wore such thunderstruck expressions that they stood out like sore thumbs.

Though no one knew what had happened to them, their faces screamed of a worldview shattered not once, but repeatedly.

The shopkeeper shot to his feet.

His right eyelid spasming violently, he declared firmly, "She’s right! Master Yan predicted this!"

Involuntarily, the shopkeeper recalled his three previous misjudgments.

Years ago, he had suffered through three equally humiliating reversals.

—This was fate coming full circle. A hallucinatory repetition. A reluctant encore performed under the public’s watchful eyes.

And both of these uncanny experiences stemmed from the same pair of senior and junior siblings from the same sect.

…Maybe in a past life, he’d been cosmically incompatible with these two.

At this thought, the shopkeeper's eyes even grew slightly moist with excitement.

Everyone: "???"

Wait a second—what exactly just happened? Is there some context we're missing?

To be honest, the chaotic events of today still leave them utterly bewildered!