After a brief discussion, all the Elders—including Vice Sect Master Xi—soared through the skies toward Han Ye’s cave.

  When they arrived, they hovered just outside, sensing… nothing.

  No scent of blood.No traces of corrupted Qi.No strange pressure or spiritual disturbance.

  Just a calm cave. Ordinary. Silent. Peaceful.

  But then they saw him.

  Han Ye, crouched in the middle of the cave, tinkering gleefully with some strange device.

  “Ah! Elders! Vice Sect Master!” he called out, waving excitedly like a child. “Would you like to see what I’ve created?”His tone was exactly the same as always—cheerful, light, deranged.

  Elder Jian’s eyes widened. He scanned every corner, every wall, his mind spinning in disbelief.

  Where… where did they go?! Where are the blood symbols?! They were everywhere!!

  There was not a single trace left.

  No blood.No writing.No scent of madness.Only cold stone, neatly arranged tools… and Han Ye.

  (Fake cough)

  “Han Ye,” Elder Ji spoke, clearing his throat and trying to maintain composure. “Elder Jian reported… strange symbols made of your blood.”His eyes darted around the cave, unable to find even the faintest hint.

  “Hmmm, I don’t knooow~,” Han Ye replied, drawing out the words like a child caught sneaking candy. He smiled with mock innocence, tilting his head pyfully.

  “Be honest, Han Ye,” another elder warned, voice low and guarded.

  They were already reaching for their weapons, subtle movements hidden beneath flowing sleeves. A single word from Vice Sect Master Xi, and they would strike.

  Han Ye gnced at them with a smile that was too rexed for the tension in the air.

  Then, without saying a word, he snapped his fingers.

  Snap.

  Color drained from the walls. The cave shivered.

  An illusion shattered like gss—and reality peeled itself open.

  Behind it, the truth returned:

  Walls drenched in intricate blood-red symbols.Air thick with maddening energy.The scent of raw blood smmed into their noses like a storm.

  Elder Jian staggered backward.

  It wasn’t this strong before! What… what did he do since then?!

  Even Vice Sect Master Xi narrowed his eyes, his Mid Arc V cultivation barely holding back the creeping nausea in his gut.

  The elders said nothing for a moment.

  And then Han Ye, completely undisturbed, turned back toward them, lifting the strange object he’d been holding.

  “So…” he said, tone as chipper as ever, “Do you still want to see my creation?”

  Vice Sect Master Xi was silent for a moment—then stepped forward, refusing to let fear stain his voice.

  “Yes,” he said firmly. “I would like to see this… ‘mp’ of yours.”

  Vice Sect Master Xi held the device in his hands, lifting it slightly as if weighing its worth.

  On the outside, he stood dignified—stoic, calm, an immovable pilr of the sect.

  But on the inside… he was screaming.

  First, the Sect Master runs off with the sect’s funds. Then, disciples start abandoning the sect in waves. And now… this. A disciple corrupted—or perhaps enlightened—by something I can’t even comprehend. Is this divine punishment? Am I cursed? I'm so tired…

  “Vice Master,” Han Ye said innocently, “I actually want to make more of these mps… but I’m short on people.”

  “...Huh? The materials—where did you get them?” Vice Master Xi asked, blinking in confusion. He was so overwhelmed he’d asked the wrong question in the wrong order. It should’ve been: Where did you get the materials? then Why do you need people?

  Han Ye tilted his head. “Oh, I just asked people outside, and they gave everything to me for free. Was that wrong?”

  The elders all turned to look at one another. Their expressions were unreadable… until they turned back to Han Ye, who was now—casually—ripping open what looked like a tear in space.

  A strange shimmer appeared as Han Ye reached inside… and pulled out a massive pile of materials.

  Crates, glowing ores, rare herbs, runic dust, and even high-tier beast bones spilled out like a tidal wave, covering nearly half the cave floor.

  ‘He… created a spatial rift?!’

  They all stared in shock.

  “You—how did you—!?”

  “Ah, like I said,” Han Ye replied with a sheepish smile, “they gave them to me for free. And I like them. So I kept everything here.”

  “No—NOT the materials! The space! How can you tear open a rift like that?!”

  Han Ye blinked.

  “It just popped into my head.”

  The cave fell deathly silent again.

  Absurdities were not rare in the cultivation world—but normally, they came in long intervals, perhaps once in a generation.

  But this?

  This was the third unimaginable absurdity from the same person, and all within less than three weeks.

  One of the elders muttered under his breath, “He’s not a disciple. He’s a camity in human skin…”

  Another added, “Or a divine test in the form of a madman…”

  Vice Sect Master Xi slowly pced the mp back down, hands trembling slightly though he tried to hide it.

  Inside, he was already composing his resignation letter.

  Outside, he only said, “Han Ye… do not create any more mps until we approve the process. Understood?”

  Han Ye gave a wide smile. “Oh, of course, Vice Master. You’ll love what comes next.”

  The elders exchanged looks again. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot.

  And deep inside the pile of materials Han Ye had summoned……something pulsed.

  Something alive.

  From Elder Xian’s perspective…

  Elder Xian had always been a man of quiet judgment. In his two hundred and seventy years of service to the sect, he’d seen more bizarre events than most. Heaven-sent prodigies, demonic cultivators, spirit beasts pretending to be humans, humans pretending to be spirit beasts—none of it shocked him anymore.

  At least, that’s what he thought.

  Until Han Ye arrived.

  Now he wasn’t so sure.

  He stood at the edge of Han Ye’s cave, arms folded, his sharp eyes darting between the floating mp, the impossible spatial rift, and the disciple who smiled like a child showing off a stick figure drawing… that just so happened to warp reality.

  His thoughts were sharp and cold:

  That’s not a spatial pouch. That’s not even a high-grade spatial tool. That’s a personalized dimensional rift. A spatial art—and he’s using it like it’s… a drawer?

  Then he saw it—just a glimpse—as Han Ye reached in and pulled out something rge.

  No sealing arrays, no permission rituals, no blood signature… Elder Xian frowned deeply. It’s like the space itself obeys his will.

  That was when he noticed the pulse.

  A soft, rhythmic throb echoing from somewhere within the heap. Like a heart. But deeper. Ancient.

  It wasn’t spiritual energy. Nor demonic. Nor cursed. It was something that didn’t yet have a name. And that made it far more dangerous.

  He instinctively pced a hand near the hilt of his spiritual bde, hidden in his sleeve.

  Vice Master Xi was trying to remain calm. The other elders were whispering among themselves. Elder Jian looked like he was fighting a full-body migraine. And Han Ye? He was humming a tune. Cheerful. Harmless on the outside.

  Too perfect, Elder Xian thought. Too… consistent. No cultivator this unstable should be this calm under pressure.

  Then he remembered the book.

  The cursed one.

  Elder Xian had seen it, for only a split second, when Elder Jian first returned. It wasn’t in Han Ye’s hands now. But he could still feel the aftertaste of its presence. A corrupting force that didn’t twist the body—it twisted logic. A book that didn’t scream, but suggested. Not “do this”… but “why not?”

  He finally spoke, voice low and clipped.“Han Ye. Do you know what you’ve created?”

  Han Ye turned to him, as if truly considering the question for the first time. His answer was… too honest.

  “I don’t know. But I like it.”

  Elder Xian’s grip tightened slightly.

  The Vice Master coughed lightly, trying to steer the moment away from breaking. “He’s… creative. Unpredictable. But until he does something that directly harms the sect, we must be cautious, not confrontational.”

  “Vice Master…” Elder Xian said, his tone low and unshaking, never once taking his eyes off Han Ye. “Permission to watch over this boy personally.”

  The words came out calm. But inside, Elder Xian felt something he hadn’t felt in decades—unease. Not fear. Not caution. Something more elusive. Like watching a child juggle knives, blindfolded, while walking a tightrope over a pit full of beasts… and somehow not falling.

  I’ve witnessed the birth of geniuses, he thought, I’ve seen monsters rise in human skin. I’ve hunted demon cultivators who smiled like saints, and saints who fell screaming into corruption. But this boy… he isn’t either. Or maybe he’s both. No. Something worse—he doesn’t seem aware of what he’s becoming.

  He knew the others felt it too.

  The Vice Master didn’t answer right away. His silence was more telling than any speech. He stood with perfect posture, eyes narrowed, the weight of leadership aging his face more than the passing centuries.

  Han Ye, meanwhile, was still pying with the mp, twirling it slightly like a bauble, humming a little off-tune melody under his breath as if he hadn't just shown them he could rip open space and hide the ws of reality behind a smile.

  Elder Xian clenched his jaw. That mp… that thing... it spoke in riddles, but the kind that made too much sense after the fact. Dangerous sense.

  “Why do you want to watch over him?” Vice Master Xi finally asked, though quietly, like he already knew the answer.

  Elder Xian exhaled through his nose. “Because no one else can.”

  His words weren’t arrogance—they were simple facts. The other elders were powerful, but they were reactionary. Elder Jian had already proven he couldn’t handle Han Ye’s presence without nearly falling to a demon heart. Elder Ji was trying to hold on to the st threads of sanity and protocol. And the Vice Master himself? Too burdened. Too tired.

  “I don’t want to seal him. Not yet. I don’t want to restrict him either. I just want to see,” Elder Xian continued. “I want to know if this… boy… is being led down a path… or if he’s the one making it.”

  The Vice Master’s gaze turned hard. “And if you find that he’s dangerous?”

  Elder Xian didn’t blink.

  “I’ll be the one to stop him.”

  A hush settled over the cave again. Even the mp flickered, dimming ever so slightly.

  But Han Ye broke the tension before it could sink too deep.

  “Ohhh! Are you going to be my babysitter?” he said with that same wide grin, not mocking—just honestly amused. “Can we share a room? Or maybe build a secret base?”

  Elder Xian didn’t respond. He only stared.

  That smile… he means every word. That’s what makes it worse.

  Because Han Ye wasn’t pretending. He truly thought none of this was wrong.

  And that meant either there was still time to save him…

  …or they were already far, far too te.

  Vice Master Xi hesitated.

  Han Ye smiled at them both, utterly unbothered.

  Then, from inside the pile, the mp flickered—and a second, softer voice echoed from it. Not the earlier one. A new one.

  "Do you think you’ve seen the light? Or merely what it allows you to see?"

  Han Ye tilted his head. “Oh, you woke up…”

  There’s another voice?! Elder Xian thought. This thing has yers? Personalities?

  The mp dimmed again, as if amused.

  And as the cave fell into a tense silence once more, Elder Xian made a vow in his heart.

  If I die to this child’s antics, I’m dragging the Sect Master back from wherever he ran.