The mountains and rivers of the world all possess their own natural forces.

  Some of these forces are weak and ordinary, with no special effects—merely existing. But others are immensely powerful and unique, giving rise to strange and mystical locations imbued with extraordinary properties.

  Among the most common of these are places that accumulate Yin energy or gather malevolent Qi.

  Many wealthy merchants or individuals of notable status seek out experts after their deaths to analyze the terrain, read the geomancy, and locate auspicious burial grounds. They believe that being laid to rest in a Feng Shui-blessed site will bring prosperity to their descendants.

  While not entirely useless, the effectiveness of such practices is often exaggerated. After all, the kind of natural forces that can truly bless future generations are not something ordinary people can easily find or claim.

  More often than not, such practices come with hidden dangers, increasing the likelihood of corpse transformations and ghostly calamities.

  Despite their commonality, locations brimming with Yin or malevolent Qi sometimes produce remarkable occurrences.

  “That place was discovered by the Huang family by sheer luck. They’ve occupied it for decades now,” Lu Qingmo explained to Han, offering crucial information.

  “Any cultivator of ghost-controlling arts who trains there experiences noticeable improvements in their abilities.”

  “There must be something within that location that greatly benefits spirits, though the exact nature of it remains unknown.”

  “The area has certain restrictions—warriors at the Bone Refining level or higher cannot approach, as their presence would disrupt the natural forces at play.”

  Just as terrain influences people, people can also influence terrain.

  If a master of righteous Qi were to reside in a place filled with Yin energy for long, they would eventually purge the darkness, reversing the natural flow of energy.

  Extreme Yang practitioners are ill-suited for Yin-rich locations, and vice versa—this is a fundamental principle of nature.

  Everything exists in balance.

  “A treasure beneficial to spirits…” Han murmured in thought, then glanced at An Lang, who was cultivating by moonlight in the distance.

  Your luck is seriously something else. Could it be that this ghostly woman is actually the reincarnation of an Immortal King?

  Lu Qingmo shook his head. “I suspect it’s not just useful for spirits.”

  “Such places are also likely to produce treasures that benefit cultivators as well.”

  After all, while ghosts and cultivators are different, they are not entirely dissimilar.

  “Where is this place?” Han asked.

  “About 1,500 li northeast of the county city. The locals call it the Three Yin Valley.”

  “1,500 li… That’s quite a distance.”

  Han muttered to himself. If it was northeast of the county city, then from Heiyun Town, he wouldn’t need to pass through the county—he could head straight there.

  The night was deep, and a fine steed dashed out of Heiyun Town.

  Some townsfolk noticed, catching a glimpse of the rider on horseback. Seeing an unfamiliar face, they paid no further attention, merely admiring the exceptional horse as it sped away.

  People came and went from Heiyun Town all the time.

  “Master, I’m sacrificing my sleep for you. You’d better repay me properly in the future,” Han grumbled.

  The rider galloping out of town, of course, was Han in disguise. His reputation had grown too large, forcing him to change his appearance—otherwise, certain ‘overenthusiastic admirers’ might recognize him and cause unnecessary trouble.

  An Lang’s voice quivered with mock emotion. “Master, your great kindness is beyond my means to repay in this lifetime. I can only promise to be your loyal servant in my next life, even as a beast of burden.”

  “……”

  Han sighed. This ghost sure knew how to put on an act—crying and lamenting while lazily reclining in the ghostly realm, probably picking at her toes.

  “Wake up. You and I are bound together. If something happens to me, I might still have a next life, but you? You’d be completely obliterated. No next life, no reincarnation—just gone.”

  As long as Han lived, An Lang would remain. If Han died, there was no way she could escape her fate.

  A person who dies might turn into a ghost, but a ghost that perishes is gone for good—unless purified by sacred rituals, their existence is erased entirely.

  “…Fair point.” An Lang’s tone shifted, suddenly thoughtful.

  “So, Master, are you saying you’d like me to repay you in this life instead?”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  “But Master, though I may be as beautiful as a goddess, we are ultimately man and ghost—our fates are not aligned. Our bond is doomed, woe is me! I cannot offer myself to you… How tragic… Boohoo… Heh… Boohoo.”

  “Enough! Stop right there!” Han cut her off.

  Damn ghost, how do you always manage to come up with nonsense like this?

  After discussing with Lu Qingmo, Han wasted no time. He digested the insights gained from his dream and set off for the Three Yin Valley without hesitation.

  The Huang family’s ghost cultivators always made their way there. Given his own practice of ghost arts and his past encounters with the Huang family, Han knew he had no choice but to investigate.

  By all accounts, it was a necessary move.

  Urging his steed forward, Han raced toward the Three Yin Valley at breakneck speed.

  This was not the same horse he had used during his previous trip to Yinhua, but it was equally rare—descended from a beast of formidable lineage, far superior to any ordinary horse.

  In his past life, this would have been a steed worthy of legends.

  Han had three objectives for this journey.

  First, to cause trouble for the Huang family.

  If the Huang family could do as they pleased, why couldn’t he? Their young master had even sent word to his clan to seize an opportunity to kill Han and steal his treasures.

  How could Han let that slide?

  If he couldn’t take down the entire Huang family, he could at least strike at one of their resource points.

  Second, to investigate whether the valley contained a spiritual treasure.

  He trusted Lu Qingmo’s judgment.

  And third, for An Lang.

  With such an opportunity before him, he had to act—hesitation would only lead to regret.

  “Master, are we really charging in alone? This doesn’t seem like a very… cautious plan,” An Lang’s worried voice echoed from within the ghostly realm.

  Nestled in Han’s arms, she lay on a ghostly bed, wrapping herself tightly in a spectral blanket of her own making.

  As a virtuous and proper ghost maiden, she had to protect herself while sleeping.

  “Relax. There are no Bone Refining warriors there. My strength is more than enough.” Han’s confidence was unwavering.

  He wasn’t going in blindly—this was a calculated move.

  “Stop sleeping. Get out here and ride the horse.”

  “Huh? Why?”

  “Because I can’t stand seeing you so relaxed. You ride—I’ll sleep.”

  “…Master, you’re terrible.”

  One man, one horse—vanishing into the night.

  One hundred li outside the Three Yin Valley, Han arrived at a small town. Leading his horse through the streets, he found a teahouse, taking a seat on the second floor where he could watch the bustling street below.

  “Waiter, tea. And bring me some food.”

  As he quietly observed the passing crowds, he waited.

  This was an ordinary town, nothing like Heiyun Town—smaller, less prosperous.

  On his way in, he had passed a martial arts school. Its strongest member was merely at the Meridian Realm, and only one person had even reached that level.

  From the chatter of the townsfolk, he learned that this was the town’s most formidable martial school.

  The disparity in strength between different regions was as if they existed in separate worlds.

  Much like how, in his past life, the economic gaps between different cities were vast and staggering.

  It wasn’t long before the dishes Han ordered were served. He sat alone, quietly savoring his meal.

  Although he had reached the Zangfu Realm as a martial artist, it would be an exaggeration to say he had transcended the need for worldly sustenance.

  Even Lu Qingmo and Bai still ate regular meals—let alone him.

  Cultivation was about surpassing human limitations, not abandoning one’s humanity altogether.

  As Han ate, a group of newcomers ascended the stairs. He barely spared them a glance. Though they were martial artists, they had only reached the Pi Rou Realm—nothing worth noting.

  The arrivals consisted of three young women. One of them, upon spotting Han, brightened with interest.

  What a striking man.

  She stepped forward without hesitation. “Excuse me, young master. May we join you?”

  “Be my guest.”

  The three women took their seats. The one who had spoken before took the initiative again. “We are disciples of the Qingshan Martial Hall. You seem unfamiliar—may I ask where you’re from?”

  As she mentioned the name of her martial hall, a hint of pride crept into her voice. The same pride was evident in her two companions as well, as if being a disciple of Qingshan was an unparalleled honor.

  And in this town, it was. Qingshan Martial Hall was the strongest force in the area—the very place Han had passed when entering town.

  The women observed Han closely, expecting some kind of reaction upon learning their esteemed affiliation.

  The townspeople always treated them with great respect once they knew of their background.

  But to their disappointment, Han’s expression remained entirely unchanged. It was as if he had never even heard of Qingshan Martial Hall.

  The three exchanged glances, puzzled.

  Han, on the other hand, found their expectations amusing but thought nothing more of it.

  Being the dominant force of a town naturally bred a certain level of arrogance. It was harmless enough.

  “I’m just passing through,” Han replied casually. “Stopping here for a short rest.”

  With that, he rose to his feet.

  The reason he had allowed them to join him was simple—he was almost done eating anyway, and their presence had not disrupted him.

  He offered them a polite smile. “Enjoy your meal.”

  As Han walked away, the young woman hesitated as if wanting to say something, but in the end, she simply watched him leave.

  “A-Lian, are you smitten?” one of her companions teased.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” A-Lian retorted, shaking her head. “I just found him… different.”

  She turned her gaze back toward the street, where Han was leading his horse away.

  “Don’t you think his presence is rather unique?”

  “Probably just another martial artist or a nobleman from elsewhere,” another of the trio guessed.

  Then, the third girl, who had been staring intently at Han, suddenly gasped.

  “His horse!”

  “What about it?”

  “I once went to the county town with Master and saw a similar one. Master said such horses are incredibly rare—ordinary martial artists can’t obtain them without special connections.”

  “If that horse runs at full speed, even Master wouldn’t be able to catch up!”

  The other two were stunned.

  Impossible.

  Their master was the strongest person in town. How could even he be outpaced by a mere horse?

  They exchanged uneasy glances, watching Han’s figure disappear down the street, their curiosity growing to an unbearable level.

  A mysterious outsider.

  A fleeting encounter.

  Yet one they would never forget.

  Years later, they would still remember that man and his horse.

  Because in at least one aspect—his horse had surpassed even their master.

  Han’s visit to the town wasn’t just for a meal.

  He had also been quietly gathering information about a place known as the Three Yin Valley.

  The valley was steeped in legend.

  Long ago, it was said to be a land of misfortune—frequent hauntings, eerie occurrences, and inexplicable deaths.

  Travelers passing by at night would sometimes see shadowy figures marching in orderly lines.

  Some claimed a great figure had once been buried there, along with a retinue of followers.

  Over the years, people had been found dead in the valley under mysterious circumstances.

  Despite its ominous reputation, the valley also harbored rare medicinal herbs of great value.

  That was why people still ventured into its depths. Much of what was known about the valley had come from those who risked their lives seeking its treasures.

  But in recent decades, the number of adventurers had dwindled.

  In the past, some had returned alive.

  Now, none did.