Zhu Xiyan's Daily Cultivation

In the forest, a graceful figure clad in a form-fitting black night suit, a black mask, and a hood was crouched tensely on a tree branch, warily observing her surroundings.

Suddenly, the figure flipped backward with a sharp motion, narrowly dodging a long shadow that thrust toward her face.

Landing on the ground, she crouched low, a cold sweat beading on her forehead and rolling down her special-material mask before dripping to the earth.

After a moment's pause, she turned her head to follow the trajectory of the attack. There, coiled on a slender branch, was a small snake, emerald green, no wider than a pinky finger and about ten centimeters long, its pointed head fixed coldly on her. Though it had no eyes, she could feel a needle-like gaze piercing her soul, stinging with a faint pain.

A prickling sensation ran down her spine, yet inwardly she felt a glimmer of joy—this was the first time in five days she had sensed danger and successfully evaded an attack.

Just as she was tensely watching the snake, bracing for its next strike, it silently dissolved into a puddle of water, and a faint green light drifted slowly into the shadows nearby.

"Clap, clap, clap."

A sudden burst of applause broke the tense, solemn atmosphere.

Startled, the figure slowly straightened up, removed her hood, pulled off the black mask, and shook out her short, neat hair. A fairly handsome face was revealed—it was none other than Hals's disciple, Zhu Xiyan.

Hals emerged slowly from the shadows. The upper half of his face was hidden beneath his hood, expression unreadable, but the exposed lower half showed a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth, indicating he was in a decent mood.

A hoarse voice rang out as Hals clapped, looking at the figure with approval: "Good. It seems you've made great progress."

Zhu Xiyan looked at the strange man stepping out of the shadows, feeling no fear in her heart—only reverence.

Zhu Xiyan bowed respectfully to Hals, then straightened up and said, "All thanks to my teacher's guidance. Your disciple has been able to grow so much in such a short time. Everything is a gift from my teacher."

Though she was barely suppressing a hint of excitement, her words were clear and without pause—a far cry from who she was half a month ago.

"Heh."

Hals's lips curled slightly, but he didn't respond. Instead, he stopped clapping and tucked his pale left hand and jade-green translucent right hand back beneath his robe.

Zhu Xiyan showed no sign of surprise. Over the past half month, she had gradually come to understand her teacher to some extent, learning bits and pieces of his hidden secrets. For instance, the snake that had just attacked her was one of her teacher's creations, and that green light was a soul.

These secrets might have unsettled others, but they stirred no unease in Zhu Xiyan. In fact, she felt a faint admiration, worship, excitement, and longing.

Seeing the calm and faint excitement in his disciple's eyes, Hals felt a sense of satisfaction and a small joy in his heart.

All along, Hals's appearance and his bizarre Martial Soul and Soul Skills had made others fear him. Though he outwardly—and even a small part of him inwardly—pretended not to care, he often felt a deep loneliness. He, too, longed for a kindred spirit.

In his youth, Bibi Dong's actions had briefly brought Hals a rare warmth, which was why he felt such... affection for her?

But aside from Bibi Dong, Hals remained profoundly alone. Zhu Xiyan's appearance, however, gave him a glimmer of hope. He could see that within her heart lurked a cold, savage beast—she, too, was a kindred spirit.

Perhaps he could gather all such kindred spirits together and form a nation. Of course, the master of that nation would be his own master—the most important person in Hals's heart...

Lost in thought, Hals's movements didn't pause. He turned and walked away. No Soul Rings flickered, only a faint ripple of Soul Power. A thick, greenish-black mist gradually emerged around him, enveloping him until he vanished from sight.

Whether it was an illusion or not, the black mist gave Zhu Xiyan a sense of decay, fear, yet also a strange invigoration.

While she was still dazed, Hals's hoarse voice rang out: "What are you standing there for? Come in."

"Ah, oh, right."

Snapping out of it, Zhu Xiyan quickly regained her composure and stepped into the thick mist with curiosity.

As she entered the mist, a fierce wind howled. The mist thinned slightly, ignoring the trees in its path, and sped away until it disappeared.

Zhu Xiyan looked around curiously. After a brief glance, she found herself in a world with no visible end. The sky was an endless green, so vivid it made her heart uneasy, while the ground was a black, decay-ridden expanse.

Everything seemed lifeless and dead.

Yet this bizarre, terrifying scene didn't frighten Zhu Xiyan. Like a newborn baby, she began to explore this world step by step.

Hals's hoarse, low voice came from all directions, overlapping like endless waves: "Curb your curiosity. Don't explore any of this. Your strength is still too weak to withstand the pressure of this world."

Startled, Zhu Xiyan obediently withdrew her hands and stood still, her face the picture of docility.

Hals's figure materialized not far away. Looking at Zhu Xiyan, who wore an expression of utter obedience, his face showed a mix of strangeness and satisfaction. From her current demeanor, none of her former self remained. This proved his methods were correct, so...

Step it up!

With that thought, Hals said nothing more. He stood silently, attempting to use his Soul Power to draw the Soul Flame in his eyes and refine souls.

After an unknown amount of time, Hals came back to himself: "We're here..."

"Drink up, eat up, hahaha! This haul feels great!"

In a hidden stronghold nestled in a mountain valley, the joy of a gathering filled the air. A group of bandits, deep in their cups, had no idea that disaster was about to strike.

At the head of the feast, a bald man with a bare, scarred torso—a vicious scar running from his left eye to the right side of his neck—stood with one foot on the table, shouting boisterously:

"Brothers, eat your fill! Damn, this haul alone is enough to keep us fed for half a year! Later, I'll hand out some bonuses, and you all can go find some women to have fun with. How about that?"

"Hell yeah!"

The bandits below raised bowls of wine or grabbed greasy chunks of meat with oily hands. Some stood, some sat, some even lay sprawled on the ground—a chaotic scene.

Seeing his men's unrefined behavior, the bald leader squinted, satisfaction gleaming in his eyes.

He turned to the handsome young man sitting beside him, who wore a helpless expression, and grinned: "What do you think, Second Chief? Not bad, eh?"

The young man, called Second Chief, sighed: "Sir, this..."

Before he could finish, the bald leader waved a hand dismissively: "Don't call me 'sir'! I said, Second Chief." The bald man squinted, smiling, but it sent a chill down the young man's spine. "Now that you're in this shithole, drop the cultured act. That fancy talk makes me sick."

Helpless, the young man changed his tune and urged: "Boss, this business of ours isn't sustainable in the long run. I think we ought to... damn it, find another line of work. This time, what you stole was supposedly something a royal elder had his eye on. If you keep this up, the empire might come after us."

Looking at the young man's earnest attempts to persuade him, Bald was unimpressed. He waved his hand dismissively, then slammed the wine bowl in his hand onto the table with a bang.

"Damn it, who the hell do you think I am? I'm a proud 68th-level Soul Emperor. If one comes at me, I'll cut him down. If two come, I'll cleave the pair."

After putting on a show of bravado, Bald grinned and pulled the young man close. With his right hand, he grabbed the wine jar, filled the bowl in front of the young man to the brim, then picked it up and shoved it into his hands.

"Alright, alright, stop overthinking it, damn it. Come on, drink. Drink."

Left with no choice, the young man lifted the wine bowl and gulped it down in one go.

Seeing this, Bald grinned widely, slapped the table as he stood up, raised his wine bowl, and shouted:

"Come on, a toast to the Second Chief."

"To the Second Chief!"