She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 68

◎Snake Shedding Its Skin◎

Since snakes experience a "blue phase" before shedding their skin, Wu Manshuang’s blurred vision was completely normal.

The pre-shedding period is also when snakes are at their most vulnerable.

For the next several days, Wu Manshuang would need to prepare for his molt. Because of this, he wouldn’t be able to attend Ji Qinghong’s classes.

Wu Manshuang requested leave in advance for this matter.

When he made the request, Yan Luoyue stood nearby, casting Ji Qinghong a hopeful yet hesitant look.

Ji Qinghong chuckled but, surprisingly, didn’t make things difficult.

Not only did he approve Wu Manshuang’s leave, but he also waved Yan Luoyue off:

"Even if I kept you here as my assistant, your mind would be elsewhere. You might as well help Xiao Wu settle his affairs first."

It was rarer than red rain to see Ji Qinghong act so understanding.

While delighted, Yan Luoyue also felt a hint of suspicion. For the rest of the class, she kept stealing glances at him.

Ji Qinghong remained unbothered, leisurely allowing her to look.

Only after finishing the day’s assigned lesson did he raise a hand and lightly tap the makeshift seal wall.

Large sections of the seal crumbled away like a landslide, sending materials tumbling down the stone surface as cracks spread inward, dissolving nearly half a mile of the seal.

Among the jagged remnants, one material stood out—pale as bleached bone.

Ji Qinghong flicked the seal wall, effortlessly dissolving the refining seal in that spot, then pulled out a bone as long as an elephant tusk.

Not content with just extracting it, he playfully held it up next to Wu Manshuang’s current height.

Hilariously, Wu Manshuang wasn’t even as tall as the bone.

Wu Manshuang subtly took a step back. "...No need to measure, Shizun. I’ll keep growing."

Ji Qinghong sighed sympathetically and pushed the bone into Wu Manshuang’s arms.

"They say ‘like cures like’—what you eat nourishes what you lack. So take this bone, make yourself a stew tonight."

Wu Manshuang: "..."

Hesitantly accepting it, he asked softly, "Really stew it?"

Ji Qinghong pinched his brow, amused. "I’m serious. It’s edible, though the medicinal properties might be too strong for anyone but you. Alternatively, she could refine it into a shedding perch for you—that’d work just as well."

Yan Luoyue examined the bone but couldn’t identify it. "Shizun, what creature’s bone is this?"

Ji Qinghong replied casually, "Two-thousand-year-old flood dragon bone. Perfect for Xiao Wu’s condition."

With that, he waved them off, not even assigning homework.

This time, even Wu Manshuang looked mildly surprised.

Ji Qinghong crossed his arms, teasing. "Still here? Waiting for me to remember something important?"

"No, no! We’re leaving right now. Goodbye, Shizun!"

Yan Luoyue quickly grabbed Wu Manshuang’s wrist, tapping lightly whenever they encountered obstacles.

The two nimbly navigated scattered debris, their skipping figures like a pair of hand-holding rabbits darting into the distance.

Ji Qinghong watched their retreating backs, arms folded, a faint smile lingering before he finally exhaled softly.

—Childhood sweethearts, carefree and close.

Though he cultivated the Path of Severed Emotions, he wasn’t ignorant of human sentiment.

Besides... today’s scene was nothing but an echo of yesterday.

...

Ji Qinghong’s instructions had been vague.

Fortunately, the ever-reliable historian Ling Shuanghun provided ample reference materials from memory and his books.

Ling Shuanghun explained, "Before shedding, snakes temporarily lose their sight."

So Wu Manshuang removed his blindfold, letting Yan Luoyue inspect his eyes.

Previously, meeting his gaze would paralyze her.

But now, a pale blue-white film veiled his pupils like gauze, obstructing his vision.

Yan Luoyue waved a hand slowly before his eyes. "Can you see?"

"A little light," Wu Manshuang admitted. "But it’s fine. My other senses are sharp enough to detect both of you."

Even so, his gloved hands instinctively reached forward, as if seeking reassurance through touch.

Yan Luoyue caught his hand, giving it a playful shake.

Ling Shuanghun continued narrating: "During pre-shedding, snake spirits often behave unusually—either more irritable—"

Wu Manshuang immediately denied it. "I’m in excellent spirits. Not irritable at all."

Ling Shuanghun read on: "—or clingy."

Whoosh! Before Yan Luoyue could blink, Wu Manshuang had dragged his chair right next to hers, leaving barely an inch between them.

Wu Manshuang confessed without hesitation: "I’m clingy."

Yan Luoyue: "..."

She couldn’t shake the feeling that a subtle air of opportunism was permeating the room.

Ling Shuanghun droned on: "The pre-shedding phase is when snake spirits are weakest."

Wu Manshuang shook his head, his expression as composed as when he’d sliced his own wrist and bled freely—utterly unfazed by pain.

"I’m fine."

Ling Shuanghun recited mechanically:

"Thus, strangers should avoid snake spirits during this time, while friends and family must provide ample care and comfort."

"Gentle reassurance and physical contact may ease their unease..."

Before he finished, Wu Manshuang plopped facedown onto the table.

With slight hesitation, he asked, "Really?"

Then, squeezing his eyes shut like a martyr, he declared, "Then... I might actually feel a little unwell."

Yan Luoyue: "..."

Ling Shuanghun: "..."

Yan Luoyue burst out laughing.

She withdrew her hand—earning a faintly aggrieved look—before leaning in to wrap Wu Manshuang in a warm, cloak-muffled hug.

Clearly, Ling Shuanghun’s records were accurate.

If not for this vulnerable pre-shedding state, the usually reserved Wu Manshuang would never be so openly affectionate.

She could only imagine what expression he’d wear after molting, once he recalled these days of shameless coquetry.

Would he curl into a corner like a mushroom, refusing to emerge until everyone forgot?

Ling Shuanghun snapped the book shut with a crisp sound.

His expression remained impassive as he observed the scene before him:

After Yan Luoyue ended their brief embrace and straightened up, Wu Manshuang also rose alertly, his posture tense with unease.

He even shifted into his jade-green serpent form, his pink forked tongue flickering intermittently as if reacquainting himself with surroundings that had grown unfamiliar since losing his sight.

Only when Yan Luoyue extended a hand did the little green snake coil up her wrist.

Relieved, he wrapped himself around her arm and nestled his head securely in the crook of her elbow.

Ling Shuanghun sighed. "Yan Luoyue, Wu Manshuang, thank you. You've just answered a question I've pondered for a long time."

Yan Luoyue turned her head. "What are you talking about, Ling Shuanghun?"

Ling Shuanghun asked gravely, "Haven't you ever wondered what a scam artist group does when they're not scamming people?"

Yan Luoyue: "I have, but what does that have to do with us?"

Ling Shuanghun answered his own question: "Through observation, I've concluded that they—scam each other internally, of course!"

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Ling Shuanghun delivered his final verdict: "A craftsman must sharpen his tools to do his work well. Keep practicing, you two. I’ll take my leave now."

Yan Luoyue: "…Wait, if you’re bold enough to tease us, don’t run away! Get back here!"

After this brief interlude, Yan Luoyue finally understood why Ji Qinghong had specifically gifted them that dragon bone.

Perhaps because snakes and dragons shared a similar lineage, their auras resonated.

Even when unwinding from Yan Luoyue’s arm, Wu Manshuang could remain calm while coiled around the dragon bone, which was as thick as a young girl’s forearm.

Choosing an opportune moment, Yan Luoyue refined the dragon bone, shaping it into a forked structure to make it easier for the little snake to shed his skin.

According to Ling Shuanghun, the most challenging part of molting was the skin around the mouth.

Once the old shed around the lips loosened, the rest of the process would proceed smoothly.

"After all, the first step is always the hardest," Ling Shuanghun remarked.

Yan Luoyue nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense," she murmured. "When I’m trying to pull off a pair of tight boots, the hardest part is always getting the heel out first…"

Ling Shuanghun: "…I’m not sure it’s the same, but the analogy is vivid."

While the two bantered, Wu Manshuang had already shifted into his serpent form, resting his chin on a circular hole Yan Luoyue had carved into the bone.

She had prepared a series of such holes, arranged from smallest to largest, so the refined bone fork could be reused for his next molt.

Contrary to Yan Luoyue’s expectations, the snake didn’t wag his tail like a little bell during shedding.

Instead, his jade-green body coiled tightly around the bone from the start.

Beneath the scales, she could even see the rhythmic tensing and relaxing of his muscles.

Though the little snake gleamed like carved jade, his shed skin was a translucent frost-white, tinged faintly with green, like the first hint of spring grass.

Twisting his neck through the hole, he wriggled free from the old skin like shrugging off a turtleneck sweater.

There was something almost magical about it—the discarded skin had a faintly frosted texture, while the newly revealed scales were polished to a glossy sheen, pristine and tempting to touch.

Just as the little green snake had freed the most stubborn part around his mouth, his movements suddenly stilled.

Wu Manshuang turned his head, his slender tongue flickering in the air as he lifted his gaze toward Yan Luoyue.

In that moment, Yan Luoyue realized how vastly different their human and beast forms were.

In human form, Wu Manshuang stood slightly taller than her, and they could skip hand-in-hand over broken walls.

But as a little snake, he was just long enough to wrap around her wrist and elbow.

Even when she sat cross-legged on the floor, he had to crane his neck to look at her.

After a moment’s thought, Yan Luoyue shifted into her own beast form.

The little turtle scuttled forward a few steps, propping her claws on the shallow water tray beneath the bone fork.

Waving a claw at the little green snake now eye-level with her, she grinned. "Almost there! Just this much left."

Of course, the distance between her claws couldn’t fully convey the remaining length of his body.

But Wu Manshuang lowered his head, nuzzling the air in her direction.

"Mm."

The rest of the molt went smoothly, but by the time the very tip of his tail slipped free, Wu Manshuang was exhausted.

The little snake relaxed his body and flopped into the shallow tray with a soft splash, sending droplets scattering across half of Yan Luoyue’s shell.

"No venom…" he murmured weakly. "For a while after shedding, I don’t have any venom."

Hearing that, Yan Luoyue seized the opportunity without hesitation.

Almost before he finished speaking, a clawed foot scooped up water and unceremoniously splashed it across his face!

Wu Manshuang: "…"

Perhaps still emotionally fragile from the molt, he let out a quiet, disgruntled huff as the water hit him.

He wriggled out of the tray, scaling its edge before coiling himself around Yan Luoyue’s shell like a climbing rope.

"No more water fights," he muttered. "Too tired…"

Feeling the weight on her back, Yan Luoyue settled down as well, tucking her limbs into her shell.

On the smooth, half-rounded surface of her shell, the little green snake’s jade-bright body rose and fell gently with each breath, his slender tail trailing elegantly on the ground.

Ling Shuanghun studied them for a moment before deciding the scene was worth preserving.

He reopened his book, flipping to the page where Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang’s paths intertwined, and swiftly sketched the first-ever depiction of a turtle and serpent entwined in the cultivation world.

At that moment, no one could have foreseen just how formidable this pairing would become in the future.

Only Yan Luoyue, ever the opportunist, lifted a claw and requested Ling Shuanghun to hum a lullaby in his crane-song.

"Do crane-songs even include lullabies?"

"Of course," Ling Shuanghun replied without hesitation. "Crane-songs cover everything from birth to burial."

There were songs for flight, for courtship, and even for warding off enemies.

Just like the sturdy shell of a turtle or the sharp spines of a crocodile, the clear, resonant cry of a white crane is part of their racial identity.

Legend has it that long before the first volume of human history was recorded, the first crane song already existed in the world.

With his charcoal pencil still sketching, Ling Shuanghun hummed softly:

"Stone beneath the earth, wood in the mortal realm.

Fire in the heavens, drifting without a home.

Let it wander as it pleases, while you and I remain bound and together..."

As the final stroke was laid down, Ling Shuanghun gently closed the bamboo scroll and noticed that the little turtle and little snake had already fallen fast asleep to his singing.

"..."

After barely a second of contemplation, Ling Shuanghun also transformed into his white crane demon form.

Tiptoeing forward, his crane claws left a trail of bamboo-leaf-like footprints in the damp earth.

Then, he unfurled one wing—partly as protection, partly as shade, and almost like a downy quilt—quietly draping it over the turtle and snake.

He himself curled his long neck and tucked it beneath his other wing, slipping into a sweet slumber.

—Ah, such a lovely afternoon truly called for a good nap.

...

When she woke up that day, Yan Luoyue keenly noticed that Wu Manshuang’s scales had darkened slightly compared to before.

If the color of the young green snake had once resembled the fresh green of early spring, now there was a richer, deeper hue, like the height of summer.

This sparked Yan Luoyue’s curiosity: If she lined up all the past and present versions of Wu Manshuang from smallest to largest, would she see a gradient rainbow effect?

...Though, how could she possibly deserve to have so many snakes?

Having the current Wu Manshuang by her side was more than enough.

Additionally, Yan Luoyue noticed two symmetrical rows of tiny bone protrusions along Wu Manshuang’s back.

Each was barely an inch long.

Not only had Yan Luoyue tentatively touched them, but Wu Manshuang had also coiled his tail around to feel them a few times.

The new bones were semi-hard to the touch, and pressing too firmly caused a faint ache beneath the skin.

Considering their shape, Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but speculate, "...Manshuang, are you growing wisdom teeth?"

But she’d never heard of a snake’s wisdom teeth sprouting from its back!

Wu Manshuang: "..."

Ling Shuanghun: "..."

Later, they consulted Ji Qinghong about it.

After a careful examination, Ji Qinghong attributed this minor change—along with Wu Manshuang’s gaze that carried a mental attack—to "his racial traits."

Yan Luoyue pressed further, "Then, Master, what exactly is Manshuang’s race?"

Even Ling Shuanghun’s historical records contained no mention of such a creature.

This suggested Wu Manshuang’s lineage was either exceedingly rare or shrouded in mystery.

"Don’t know." Ji Qinghong pondered for a moment but still offered no definitive answer.

Seeing Yan Luoyue pouting in frustration, he smiled warmly and, as usual, gave an utterly unreliable suggestion:

"If you’re really that troubled, Wu Manshuang can just be classified under my lineage—the rabbit race."

"...Master, can you even do that?"

Ji Qinghong chuckled lightly and gestured for Wu Manshuang to revert to human form.

After studying him post-shedding, Ji Qinghong assigned Wu Manshuang a peculiar homework task: Find someone and play a joke on them.

Wu Manshuang: "..."

As if oblivious to Wu Manshuang’s hesitation, Ji Qinghong added with a smile, "Make sure they recognize it as a joke."

The assignment seemed whimsical, typical of Ji Qinghong’s eccentricities.

But Yan Luoyue nearly gave him a thumbs-up on the spot.

—Exactly! This was just what the little snake needed to liven up!

Here’s the thing.

Perhaps because his behavior during the shedding phase had been too mortifying, Wu Manshuang had barely spoken for three or four days afterward.

Whenever they went out, he trailed half a step behind Yan Luoyue like a giant mushroom sprouting from her shadow.

Every time she turned around, she’d catch him tugging his hood further over his lips with both hands.

Yan Luoyue was both amused and exasperated—she’d expected this.

But she kept her tone casual as she asked, "What’s wrong? Why have you been ignoring me and Ling Shuanghun lately?"

Wu Manshuang shook his head gloomily. "Let me calm down a bit..."

He had now recalled every single thing he’d done during his shedding phase.

Wu Manshuang deeply felt he had no face left to show anyone.

Yan Luoyue: "...Alright, but I’m heading to the auction house later. Want to come?"

Wu Manshuang immediately looked up. "Yes!"

...Good. It seemed some of the honesty and directness from his shedding phase had carried over.

The auction house Yan Luoyue mentioned was the Star River Auction House in the outer district.

Even after the Thousand Refinements Assembly ended and the grand curtain was taken down, the auction house remained, happily continuing business by buying secondhand materials dismantled by refiners from the secret realm.

—This proved Yan Luoyue wasn’t the only one trying to get rich by collecting scrap. Human ingenuity often followed similar paths.

The Hongtong Palace turned a blind eye to these dealings, not bothering to track where the dismantled materials ended up.

After all, they’d already secured the greatest prize—the Crow’s Cry Flame. They couldn’t expect refiners to work for free on empty promises.

Whenever she visited the Star River Auction House, Yan Luoyue maintained her "Yan Bixin" persona.

After nearly bumping into Ling Shuanghun once, she always had Wu Manshuang keep watch while she changed disguises.

Wu Manshuang naturally agreed without hesitation.

But he couldn’t help feeling a little puzzled. "Why not let Ling Shuanghun know?"

Yan Luoyue shook her head firmly. "Unless he figures it out himself, I’m never telling him!"

Yan Bixin’s cloak bore a seventy percent resemblance to Wu Manshuang’s.

When the two walked side by side, they looked almost like brothers.

Yan Luoyue glanced down at Wu Manshuang and suddenly laughed.

"...What?" Wu Manshuang gave her a questioning look.

Pressing her lips together, Yan Luoyue mimicked Ji Qinghong’s gesture—measuring Wu Manshuang’s height against her own, just as Ji Qinghong had once done with the dragon bone.

Wu Manshuang: "..."

Wu Manshuang stiffened his expression and muttered, "Next time we go out... I’m taking an age-increasing pill too."

He used to be taller than Yan Luoyue. Used to be!

Yan Bixin’s visit to the auction house this time was mainly to collect the final payment for her patent sale.

The black-cloaked refiner had released the crafting formula for the Tracking Net, licensing a thousand copies.

Naturally, these licenses couldn’t all be sold in a single auction.

After consulting Yan Luoyue, the Star River Auction House distributed some of the patents to their affiliated auction houses for sale elsewhere.

Hundreds of patents had been sold right within this auction house.

Though the cultivation world lacked formal legal frameworks, the binding power of heavenly oaths ensured that Yan Luoyue didn’t have to worry about her patent rights being compromised.

The same female appraiser who had first greeted Yan Luoyue was responsible for her reception this time as well.

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Her hair was coiled into a sleek bun at the back of her head, and her straight, level eyebrows gave her a stern demeanor. At a glance, it was clear she was the type who took her work seriously—someone you could trust to handle matters reliably.

When she saw Wu Manshuang, the appraiser didn’t pry into his identity to curry favor with her high-profile client.

She merely cast him a brief, indifferent glance before withdrawing her gaze, offering not a single unnecessary word.

Only after Yan Luoyue received the final payment for the past three months did the appraiser ask,

"We’ve recently acquired a new batch of materials. Would you like to take a look?"

With the Wuti Fire Secret Realm nearby, alchemists and refiners frequently sold large quantities of materials to the auction house.

Ordinary clients certainly wouldn’t receive the privilege of previewing goods.

But for a refining master like Yan Luoyue, whose single auction item had fetched a million in bids, the rules were naturally different.

Though Yan Luoyue could enter the secret realm herself, she knew the materials varied across the different sections of the sealing barrier.

Others might have stumbled upon resources she hadn’t yet obtained. Since she happened to have free time today, there was no harm in taking a look.

The appraiser gave a slight bow. "The materials are stored in the back. Please follow me."

On the way to the storage area, the black-robed refiner brushed past a tall, gaunt man.

In that instant, not only did Wu Manshuang sharply lift his head, but Yan Luoyue also noticed the man subtly scrutinizing her.

"...?"

After walking a short distance further, Yan Luoyue asked in her usual raspy tone, "Who was that man just now?"

The female appraiser replied evenly, "He is my elder brother—the first heir of this auction house."

That answer was rather intriguing.

Yan Luoyue feigned indifference, her voice low and steady. "And you?"

The appraiser said, "By birth order, I am the second heir."

Hearing this, the black-robed refiner understood everything. "But the true order of succession is still determined by ability?"

"Correct."

—No wonder the man had studied the black-robed refiner so carefully as he passed by.

Securing the deal for the "Tracking Net" secret formula must have significantly bolstered the female appraiser’s standing.

After escorting the black-robed refiner and his "younger brother" (Wu Manshuang: This is a misunderstanding, but never mind) to the storage room, the appraiser bowed slightly once more.

"My apologies for the earlier unpleasantness. I did not intend for you to experience that interruption. Please feel free to select any materials you desire—I’ll offer a thirty percent discount on your purchase today."

Yan Luoyue thanked her for the courtesy and eventually picked out a pair of inky-black Mystic Spirit Crystals.

Each crystal was about the size of a palm.

Though the material was rare—capable of defending against spiritual attacks—their small size made their price awkwardly mid-range.

Yan Luoyue, however, was pleased.

"I can refine these into a pair of protective goggles for you."

Holding the crystal pieces up to Wu Manshuang’s face, she grinned. "Paired with that silver robe, you’d look absolutely cool."

"..."

Wu Manshuang didn’t know what "cool" meant, but he could tell from Yan Luoyue’s tone that it was high praise.

Right then, he decided he’d wear that silver robe more often—even when not going out.

Having acquired the perfect materials at a bargain price, Yan Luoyue’s mood was as buoyant as if she’d struck gold.

On the way back, her steps were light, and even her usual raspy voice sounded smoother than usual.

Wu Manshuang asked, "Did that female appraiser deliberately leak that information to you?"

Yan Luoyue pondered for a moment. "Based on my past interactions with her, she doesn’t seem the type for underhanded tactics. She’s more focused on her work."

In short, this serious-minded appraiser was practically the opposite of someone like Zhen Zhuor when it came to "flexibility."

"Still, even if she did intend for me to know, since she told us to act as if nothing happened, I’ll do just that."

After all, Yan Luoyue was only staying here for a year—scavenging materials, dismantling secret realms, and enduring Ji Qinghong’s relentless training.

Whoever ended up inheriting this newly established auction house had little to do with her.

All she needed was to remain a respected VIP client.

Wu Manshuang gave a quiet hum of acknowledgment.

The next moment, he abruptly—yet subtly—glanced back.

A second later, the black-robed refiner’s ears twitched almost imperceptibly beneath the hood.

Though their reactions were a second apart, this was the first time Yan Luoyue had sensed something amiss without relying on Wu Manshuang’s cues.

Ji Qinghong’s intensive training was finally bearing fruit.

Wu Manshuang, of course, didn’t notice Yan Luoyue’s subtle movement.

Adjusting his cloak, he said casually, "You go on ahead. I’m heading back to the auction house to buy something."

"..."

Yan Luoyue barely stifled a laugh.

The excuse was transparently flimsy.

But… well, Wu Manshuang was trying his best. For an earnest little snake who’d never attempted to send her away before, this was progress.

"Alright," Yan Luoyue replied, playing along. "I’ll head back first, then."

Less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea after Wu Manshuang left, Yan Luoyue circled back and stealthily tailed him.

She employed the techniques Ji Qinghong had taught her, simultaneously activating the Turtle Clan’s secret art—Turtle Breath Technique.

By sheer accident, Yan Luoyue had discovered that her ancestors’ methods aligned perfectly with the Turtle Clan’s innate strengths, amplifying their natural talents.

When executed to perfection, this technique made her presence as inconspicuous as a moss-covered stone.

Moving with extreme caution, Yan Luoyue arrived at the scene just in time to see the suspicious stalker pinned beneath Wu Manshuang’s foot.

Practice made perfect.

Especially for someone as quick a study as Wu Manshuang.

Compared to his awkward first encounter with a stalker—back when he’d shared the news with his two friends—he now handled such matters with practiced ease.

"Oh? Still unwilling to talk?"

Wu Manshuang’s tone was light, almost playful, as he leisurely removed his gloves.

Peeking out from behind a tree, Yan Luoyue watched in awe.

—Wow. I knew he was a fast learner, but I didn’t expect him to be this good at it!

At this moment, Wu Manshuang’s demeanor and tone were an uncanny imitation of Ji Qinghong’s.

Suddenly, Yan Luoyue had an epiphany—she understood why Wu Manshuang had tried to send her away so he could deal with the stalker alone.

Of course, it wasn’t some clichéd reason like “protecting Yan Luoyue’s fragile little heart.”

There was only one truth here:

When testing a new skill in actual combat—especially when the scene might come off as a bit cringeworthy, or worse, end in failure—someone as meticulous as Wu Manshuang would naturally want to practice it thoroughly before showcasing it to his close friends.

And Yan Luoyue, like every mischievous friend in one’s life, didn’t quietly retreat upon seeing this. Instead, her eyes sparkled with even greater interest as she watched intently.

If the old Wu Manshuang relied on his attire and mysterious aura to instill fear,

the current Wu Manshuang, even without his cloak, could still exude danger purely through his unpredictable tone and the stark contrast of his brooding temperament.

The stalker pinned beneath his foot had never met the old Wu Manshuang.

But listening to that amused voice above him, he felt as though a venomous snake were lazily coiling around his neck, tightening its grip.

Without hesitation, he blurted out, “It was Miss Yu! Miss Yu Funing sent me to follow you two!”

“Because you’ve had contact with the young master before, she ordered me to keep an eye on you—to see if his people would reach out. That’s all I know, I swear! Please, young master, spare me!”

Behind the tree, Yan Luoyue raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by this answer.

Before she could fully process it, Wu Manshuang let out a soft chuckle upon hearing the response.

“Is that so…? But I’m not convinced.”

Wu Manshuang shook his head thoughtfully. “I must admit, I still haven’t figured out how to make hair removal painless.”

“—Fortunately, though, I’ve discovered a way to make people not mind losing their hair.”

He asked politely, “Would you like to give it a try?”

As he spoke, he bent down and lightly tapped the man’s forehead with his bare fingers.

In this moment, Ji Qinghong’s mischievous logic and Wu Manshuang’s courteous demeanor merged on the fertile soil of curiosity, sprouting the seeds of coercion.

Yan Luoyue, watching from the sidelines: “…”

Her feelings were complicated.

Now she finally understood why Mencius’ mother moved three times.

Though Wu Manshuang remained pure and kindhearted around her and Ling Shuanghun,

Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but worry that if he kept learning from Ji Qinghong, his reputation might one day become… terrifying.

Beneath Wu Manshuang’s foot, the captured stalker suddenly let out a bloodcurdling scream.

The sound was so akin to a pig being slaughtered that even Yan Luoyue, standing ten paces away, jumped in fright.

Wu Manshuang flinched slightly.

Noticing that the stalker hadn’t caught his reaction, he quickly regained his composure and asked calmly,

“Are you feeling unwell already?”

—Truthfully, he hadn’t added anything harmful, so there shouldn’t be any discomfort.

But the man’s reaction was understandable.

In mere seconds, every strand of his hair—from root to tip—had turned a vivid, fluorescent green, glowing like the lone star in the night sky!

Yan Luoyue: “…”

Well, damn.

In the conservative aesthetics of the cultivation world, such a synthetic neon green could only be classified as psychological torture.

The man clutched his hair, desperately struggling under Wu Manshuang’s foot, his lips trembling like a ruler being flicked at the edge of a table.

“What did you do to me?!”

Wu Manshuang smiled faintly, straightening up without answering directly.

He mused, “Someone once told me that not everything in this world can be solved by killing.”

“I don’t fully understand it yet, but I’ve always listened to her.”

As he spoke, he traced an invisible outline in the air above the man’s body with the same finger that had touched his forehead.

His fingertip paused ominously over each body part.

“Don’t worry, I’m not that cruel. So next, you’ll just… turn green. From your hair, to your face, to your lips… all the way down. A head-to-toe, radiant green.”

The threatened stalker: “…”

The eavesdropping Yan Luoyue: “…”

Yan Luoyue suspected Wu Manshuang didn’t grasp the cultural implications of the color “green” in human society.

After all, he himself was a pristine, lovely little emerald snake.

But to unintentionally strike such a sensitive color…

Tsk. Truly, an innocent yet devastating shade of darkness.

Wu Manshuang continued, “Once you’re green from head to toe, your beloved friends will plant you in the ground, water you, remove pests, fertilize you with medicinal pellets…”

Here, perhaps thinking of his own friends, his artificially gentle tone softened into something genuine.

But to the stalker’s ears, it only fueled his urge to flee and write a memoir titled The Birth of a Psychopath.

In a flash, Wu Manshuang whirled around. “—Take, for example, the friend hiding behind me right now…”

The next instant, his sharp gaze pierced through the white veil, locking onto Yan Luoyue’s half-exposed face peeking from behind the tree.

The rest of his sentence died abruptly in his throat.

“…”

The two stared at each other in silence for a long moment.

Then, adjusting his previously domineering stance, Wu Manshuang instantly reverted to his usual docile self under Yan Luoyue’s watchful eyes.

With utmost restraint and politeness, he apologized to the stalker beneath his foot:

“My apologies. I was mistaken—that’s actually my friend.”

The stalker: “…”

Wu Manshuang offered Yan Luoyue a slightly nervous smile.

“I still haven’t perfected the hair-removal toxin… but look, I’ve invented the ‘plant person’ you mentioned before.”

Yan Luoyue: “…”

What the hell kind of “plant person” is this?!

Pressing his foot firmly over the stalker’s mouth to prevent him from recounting the ordeal to Yan Luoyue, Wu Manshuang realized too late that he was overthinking things.

Why would this stalker ever dare to describe his experience to her?

As he watched Yan Luoyue step out from behind the tree,

the black-robed artificer and the little menace before him mirrored each other in attire—

one tall, one short, like trial-sized and full-sized versions of the same brand of eccentricity.

And now, learning that the “plant person” concept had originated from the taller black-robed artificer…

In an instant, the stalker’s mind flooded with 1,800 possible fates awaiting him, his eyes brimming with tears.

As tears slid down his cheeks and dropped to the ground, he still managed to roll his eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of whether his sorrowful tears had turned fluorescent green.

"Let me speak!"

The man desperately shook his head free from Wu Manshuang's shoe and blurted out the whole story.

"It wasn’t Miss Yu who sent me—it was Young Master Yu! He ordered me to follow you two and report back if there were any private interactions between you and Miss Yu. If I got caught, I was supposed to pin it on her!"

The man squeezed his eyes shut and shouted, "He said you’d give Star River Auction House some face and wouldn’t do anything to me!"

Hearing this, Yan Luoyue pursed her lips slightly.

Ah, that made sense.

Earlier, the spy’s explanation had been logically airtight.

But something about it still felt off to Yan Luoyue’s instincts.

As for Wu Manshuang—he had actually seen through the lie immediately. His progress was truly… huh?

Yan Luoyue noticed Wu Manshuang shifting his stance uncomfortably.

His ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‍entire demeanor carried a delayed realization that only those familiar with him could detect.

—Wait, I was just bluffing, but you were actually lying?

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Wow, you sure didn’t act like you were just bluffing.

No emotion, all technique.

Even she had been fooled by Wu Manshuang’s acting!

Noticing Yan Luoyue’s exasperated expression, Wu Manshuang adjusted his gloves and touched the tip of his nose in confusion, explaining:

"I was… just joking with him."

In short, he was completing an assignment Ji Qinghong had given him.

But perhaps due to Wu Manshuang’s personality, even his jokes came off too seriously—so much so that he ended up uncovering the truth.

With a swift change of mind, Yan Luoyue leaned down and said in a husky voice:

"Go back and tell your Young Master that internal strife is your auction house’s own business—I won’t interfere. But if he keeps testing me like this, the outcome might not be so predictable next time."

The spy nodded frantically. "Yes, yes, of course!"

Wu Manshuang loosened his grip and coldly tilted his head. "Go."

The spy hesitated. "Uh, about the plant-man thing…"

Wu Manshuang gave him a sidelong glance, then removed his glove and pressed a finger to the man’s forehead.

In an instant, all the hair on the spy’s body fell out.

"Go. Now."

As the spy scurried away, Wu Manshuang looked slightly dejected.

The fact that his joke had turned real left him unsure whether he’d completed the assignment.

But then…

A thought flashed through his mind. Wu Manshuang bent down, picked up a strand of fluorescent green hair, rolled it up, and pocketed it.

Yan Luoyue blinked. "What’s that for?"

Wu Manshuang: "Homework."

The two turned and headed back toward the inner hall.

Wu Manshuang asked, "You’re really not going to pursue this further?"

In Wu Manshuang’s mind, harboring ill intentions toward Yan Luoyue—or her alternate identities—was a grave offense.

If Yan Luoyue wouldn’t take action, then he would.

Once the seal wall was cracked, he’d at least pick an auspicious day to ambush Young Master Yu with a sack.

Yan Luoyue chuckled. "Their inheritance feud doesn’t pay me dividends, so why bother? Though I might sell Miss Yu a few extra useful things later—just to vent a little."

After answering, she couldn’t help but ask:

"If you hadn’t been joking earlier, how would you have handled it?"

Wu Manshuang looked faintly embarrassed. "If he refused to talk or kept lying, I wouldn’t have had any other options."

For a while, Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun had repeatedly reminded him not to use his lethal poison unless absolutely necessary.

So…

"At most, I’d beat him up, stuff him in a container, and have someone send him back."

"…Huh?"

Yan Luoyue paused, sensing something ominous in that description.

"Wait, why a container?"

Wu Manshuang blinked. "After I’m done with him, he’d be too weak to move. Dragging him back naked would be inhumane, wouldn’t it?"

That sounded reasonable, yet something still felt off.

Yan Luoyue sorted through her thoughts and realized the issue lay in—

"What kind of container?"

Wu Manshuang thought for a moment, recalling all the appropriately sized containers he’d seen before.

Tentatively, he suggested, "A coffin?"

"…And send him where?"

Wu Manshuang answered without hesitation, "If he can’t take care of himself or find his way back, then obviously to Young Master Yu’s doorstep."

Yan Luoyue: "…"

She stared at Wu Manshuang in prolonged silence.

She’d discovered that the little snake had a natural talent for provocation.

If he’d been born in ancient times, he might’ve been perfect for writing declarations of war.

A single letter shot into the enemy camp, and the opposing general—no matter how reluctant to fight—would probably charge out within the first few lines, hellbent on killing him.

And what Yan Luoyue never expected was that Wu Manshuang’s talent for provocation would shine even brighter the next day.

Ji Qinghong examined the strand of green hair Wu Manshuang presented to him and smiled with interest.

"What’s this?"

Wu Manshuang answered earnestly, "A rare and delicious type of grass, purchased at a high price. Please enjoy it, Master."

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Ji Qinghong: "…"

Raising an eyebrow, Ji Qinghong’s tone grew even gentler. "Child, are you joking with me?"

Wu Manshuang instantly relaxed, his expression brightening with relief—as if to say, Finally, I’ve completed the assignment!

—Ji Qinghong had asked him to make a joke. He’d done it.

—Ji Qinghong had also asked for the recipient to recognize it as a joke. He’d done that too!

Wu Manshuang nodded obediently. "Yes, it’s a joke."

Ji Qinghong: "…"

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Silence. Only silence could describe the atmosphere now.

Admiration. Nothing but admiration remained in Yan Luoyue’s heart.

And today, as always, Wu Manshuang continued to excel in his studies!