White Bone Temple? White Moon Temple?

Hanyu was immersed in a mysterious aura, the Glazed Bottle in his mind leaping and bouncing with joy.

Once the luck had condensed to a certain degree, the Glazed Bottle swallowed it all in one gulp.

Little Glazed let out a series of burps in his mind, its voice milky and childish like a child who had eaten too much.

After the luck was gently nurtured inside the bottle for a moment, Mysterious Yellow Qi slowly sprayed from the bottle's mouth, quickly wrapping the bottle itself, then using this Mysterious Yellow Qi to refine its own form.

"Where's the Fire Element Supernatural Power you mentioned?"

Hanyu watched with greedy eyes, unable to resist urging.

"What's the rush? Wait a bit longer," Little Glazed said in its milky voice.

After a period of refinement, the bottle gradually reached saturation, and the remaining Mysterious Yellow Qi was swallowed back inside.

Pfft!

Just like when fire had ignited in his mind last time, a mass of Mysterious Yellow substance sprayed from the bottle's mouth, exploding into a blaze even fiercer than before.

The fire not only forged the bottle's body but also tempered Hanyu's consciousness, making him and the Glazed Bottle seem even more tightly connected.

As the flame gradually shrank, it slowly formed a lotus-shaped flame.

"Try taking it out like you would a pill," Little Glazed reminded.

Hanyu quickly attempted to visualize drawing the flame out, and soon a ball of red fire appeared in his palm.

Hanyu's face darkened. "This is the Fire Element Supernatural Power you talked about? What can this little flame do? Cook food or light a lamp?"

"Nothing comes without effort—you need to cultivate it."

Hanyu's face grew even darker, and he ground his teeth. "I ate the Life Creation Pill and can't cultivate at all. What use is this power to me?"

"Who says you can't cultivate? Your cultivation is me!" Little Glazed said with a giggle.

"As long as I receive feedback, I'll give some back to you, and your power will keep growing stronger."

Minzhou City.

Two days had passed since the Xiao family incident, but the buzz only grew, with nosy people standing far off every day to steal a glance.

Someone had seen two Tianshui Sect disciples dragging a corpse each out of the Xiao Mansion.

"Isn't that the girl who broke off the engagement!"

Someone recognized Qiu Susu.

Those with a sharp mind pieced together the whole story with a little thought—from the broken engagement to the losses and the killings that followed. Both sides had lost people; neither had truly come out ahead. It was hard not to sigh.

Among the broken walls and rubble, Xiao Shui stood alone with a desolate silhouette. The Xiao Mansion was now mostly destroyed.

Lu Dayou walked in slowly, clearing his throat a few times.

"Lord Lu."

Xiao Shui clasped his fists in salute. Lu Dayou had protected the Xiao family before, and even if it was just his duty, Xiao Shui was deeply grateful.

Today, Lu Dayou had changed into a loose robe, his face still quite pale. Now that he could move around, he felt he ought to come here, both out of duty and sentiment.

"What are your plans?"

Lu Dayou came to his side and asked in a low voice.

"Rebuild the Xiao family." Xiao Shui looked bitterly at the collapsed halls and pavilions around him, forcing a wry smile.

Lu Dayou sighed and patted his shoulder. "Find a place where they can't find you. You can't stay here—for the Xiao family's sake, and for Minzhou City's."

The Tianshui Sect had lost a Peeping God Realm elder. The feud was now one of life and death. Next time, it wouldn't be just one or two people coming—the entire Tianshui Sect would likely pour out.

If a single Death-Seeking Taoist could push the Xiao family to this brink, the whole sect descending would mean certain doom for the Xiao family.

Xiao Shui remained silent. After a long while, he slowly nodded and sighed. "I understand. I'll set out tomorrow."

"What price did you pay this time?"

Before leaving, Lu Dayou finally asked out of curiosity. Given Xiao Shui's change that day and Hanyu's presence, it wasn't hard to guess that Hanyu had given him another pill.

"Ten years of luck!" Xiao Shui said it flatly, but Lu Dayou's hair stood on end just hearing it.

Ten years of luck, thirty years of misfortune—just thinking about it made Lu Dayou shudder. If he had to endure thirty years of bad luck, he probably wouldn't sleep soundly for most of his life.

Not thirty years—there were nine more before that. He had lost thirteen years of luck.

He had thirteen years of luck!

Lu Dayou's mind snapped to attention, and his gaze toward Xiao Shui instantly changed.

To have thirteen years of luck meant being favored by heaven and earth.

If he hadn't lost it, he'd surely be a big shot in the future.

He looked at Xiao Shui with eyes full of regret.

"I'm thinking of going back to find Lord Lu and trading another pill for some luck."

Hanyu smacked his lips, suddenly remembering Lu Dayou.

Because Little Glazed had said that people carrying great fortune were rare—usually only the small few favored by fortune itself possessed it.

Everyone else could only rely on normal pill feedback, focusing on a steady trickle that accumulates over time.

Hanyu was eager to let a single spark start a prairie fire, and he immediately set his sights on Lu Dayou.

"Forget about him! That year's fortune was only possible because he had a dynasty backing him, and now it's been completely drained." Little Glazed said with a tone of disdain.

On a winding goat trail, Hanyu once again lay sprawled on the back of a big yellow ox. There was no helping it—finding a horse in all of Minzhou Prefecture was too difficult, but there were plenty of yellow oxen.

Yellow oxen had their advantages too. On tricky paths like this, the ox walked as if on flat ground, and its steady, four-square back made for a comfortable ride.

He lay gazing up at the sky, gradually spotting a spire. As time passed, the outline of the spire's tip grew clearer, and then he saw the tower itself.

It was a nine-story tower. He had just taken in the carved beams and painted rafters on the outside when the sound of chanting drifted unhurriedly from within.

So it was a precious temple. Hanyu lost interest at once.

Just as he was tugging the rope to turn the ox around, something stirred faintly in his chest.

Curious, he took out the object—it was the command token of the Rogue Cultivator Self-Strengthening Sect that Yixian had given him back then. If he remembered correctly, it could also be used to call for help.

He held the token and turned it in all directions. Finally, when the token pointed toward the tall tower, it began to pulse rapidly.

Someone really was calling for help.

A temple chanting sutras and reciting Buddha's name sending out a rogue cultivator's distress signal—no matter how he thought about it, it felt incongruous.

Walking further ahead, a small monastery came into view.

It wasn't large. On the east side were four or five side rooms, on the south a few small pavilions, and the rest was that nine-story tower. Standing outside the temple, he could hear the unceasing sound of Buddhist chanting, as if someone were standing right by his ear reciting it.

"White Bone Temple?"

Hanyu stood at the gate and looked at the signboard, wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. When he looked again, it seemed to read "White Moon Temple."

Was it White Bone Temple or White Moon Temple?

He stood behind the door and knocked lightly. Soon, a little novice came to answer.

When the door opened, a young novice with an air of childish innocence stood at the entrance, timidly pressing his palms together. "Greetings, benefactor."

Hanyu blinked and made up a reason on the spot. "Little master, I lost my way in these mountains. I'm tired and thirsty—could I come in for a bowl of water and a rest?"

The little novice looked at him, seeming a bit hesitant. "Please wait a moment. I'll go ask the abbot."

With that, the door closed again, and he could hear the sound of the little novice running back inside.

Hanyu rubbed his nose and waited outside the door.

After a moment, the little novice opened the door, his face full of apology. "The abbot says this temple is a wild, humble monastery and does not receive guests. If you go down the mountain and walk west for half an hour, there's a farmstead there."

Then the door closed again.

A temple that didn't receive guests—now that was unusual.

Getting in through the door was one thing. Not getting in through the door naturally had its own methods.

How hard could climbing a wall be? Hanyu found an inconspicuous spot, flipped over, and jumped inside.

All around was eerily quiet. Even the little novice from before was nowhere to be seen.

Hanyu crouched low, hugging the wall as he made his way toward the tall tower. By now, the chanting had grown louder.

At the base of the tower, a crowd of monks, young and old, sat in a circle cross-legged, chanting in unison with an old monk at the center.

The little novice from earlier was among them.

At a glance, nothing seemed wrong.

But the token in his chest was pulsing faster and faster.

Was the person inside?