The sun beat down on the cobblestone streets of Linshan Village.It was a market day, and the air was thick with the chatter of mortals, the smell of roasted meats, and the sweet scent of fruit piled high on wooden carts. Cultivators rarely graced such mundane places; they walked among the clouds, chasing power in their sects or seeking fortune in dangerous, untamed lands. This world, vibrant and loud, belonged to the common folk.Tucked between a seller of noisy chickens and a woman hawking clay pots was a small, unassuming stall. Behind it sat a wrinkled old man, his back hunched like a dried shrimp. He sold only one thing: fragrant oil in tiny, cheap glass vials."A pleasant fragrance to brighten your day!" he would call out in a soft, reedy voice.From time to time, he would mist the air with a small sprayer. The scent was indeed captivating,a light, floral aroma that seemed to wash away the fatigue of the day. A few villagers, mostly women and young girls, were drawn in."How muc

Huang Lianxue hit the ground hard, the impact jarring her bones, but there was no time for pain. The black-clad assassin was on her again in an instant, a silent shadow moving with lethal grace."Form up! Protect Lady Lianxue!" one of the Huang disciples roared.With a sharp cry, Huang Lianxue slammed her palms onto the tavern floor. A wave of frigid Qi exploded outwards. Intricate patterns of frost spread from her hands in a circle, a breathtakingly complex formation materializing in seconds. A wall of solid, semi-transparent ice, sharp as glass, erupted between her and the attacker.CRACK!The assassin’s dagger, glowing with a faint, dark energy, shattered the wall with a single strike. He did not slow, his momentum carrying him through the glittering shards of ice.Her fellow disciples engaged him. Two moved in with their swords, their techniques precise and coordinated. But it was like children fighting a seasoned soldier. The assassin weaved between their strikes effortlessly. A

The air in the Huang Clan's main hall was as heavy as unshed rain.Huang Jianshu, the master of the clan, sat in the high seat carved from dark ironwood, his brow a knot of worry. Beside him, his wife, Liu Wanqing, twisted a silk handkerchief in her hands, her beautiful face pale. Before them knelt a clan subordinate, his head bowed low as he delivered his report."...the bodies of the fifteen assailants have been examined, my Lord. They carried no emblems, no identifying marks. We cross-referenced their faces with the records of every known demonic sect and assassin organization. There were no matches."The subordinate swallowed nervously before continuing. "It is stranger still, my Lord. Their meridians show signs of vicious, accelerated cultivation, and their bodies are saturated with at least a dozen different kinds of latent poisons. It is as if they were not born, but forged. Raised in secret, like ghosts, for the sole purpose of being disposable weapons for a very powerful mast

The Huang Clan had given Li Qingyan a secluded courtyard for his stay. It was a tranquil place, with a small pavilion overlooking a placid koi pond, a weeping willow trailing its leaves in the water. After the bloody chaos of the tavern, the silence was a welcome change.He sat in the pavilion, observing the lazy movements of the fish, when he heard soft footsteps approach. It was Huang Lianxue. She had changed from her battle-worn robes into a simple but elegant dress, and she carried a tray with a fresh pot of premium tea. It was a gesture of gratitude that felt distinctly personal."Senior Li," she began, her voice much softer than it had been in the face of danger. She knelt gracefully, pouring him a cup. "I... I came to thank you again properly. You saved my life, and the lives of my fellow disciples. My family is eternally in your debt."Li Qingyan accepted the cup, his gaze quietly studying her. It was not her words that held his attention, but the small, unconscious gestures s

Li Qingyan returned as silently as he had left, his arms laden with strange flora gathered from the deepest, most dangerous parts of the Serpent's Maw Forest. There was Ironbone Root that grew only in metallic soil, the pale petals of a Frost-Heart Lotus found near nests of ice sprites, and the dark, bulbous Serpent's Gall Flower, still dripping with a mild venom.He commandeered the Huang Clan's largest bathing chamber, a room with a sunken pool carved from a single block of black obsidian. Dismissing the servants with a single glance, he began his work. He crushed, boiled, and mixed the herbs with a frightening efficiency, his movements precise and ancient. Soon, the clear water of the pool had been transformed into a startling, almost glowing emerald green, emitting a sharp, medicinal aroma that spoke of both immense pain and profound promise.He sent for Huang Lianxue.She arrived, dressed in a simple white robe, her face composed but her eyes holding a hint of nervous anticipatio