The billowing white smoke gathered above the incense, forming a dense cloud. Under the effect of the ritual, the karmic lines intersected and followed the lead originating from Dao Jun, heading toward the mastermind.

  Soon, three pairs of closed eyes formed within the white smoke. They slowly opened their eyelids, staring lifelessly, unaware that someone was peeking at them.

  But Dao Jun took no action. Instead, he squinted his eyes and pinched a seal with his right hand. His little finger rested on top of his thumb, while his index finger was placed over his little finger. Pouring his soul energy into the three incense sticks, Dao Jun forced them to unravel deeper secrets.

  Hidden within the cloud of white smoke, a half-transparent pair of eyes revealed itself. It had always been there, concealed within the layers of causality. Like the previous three pairs, this fourth set of eyes slowly opened its lids.

  At first, its gaze was lifeless and unfocused, but soon, a flicker of movement appeared—the pupils trembled slightly, as if trying to break free from some invisible restraint.

  "Four," Dao Jun said heavily. These four pairs of eyes were the true masterminds behind his perilous situation. They were also the ones capable of deducing his location, even after he abolished his Qi Refining cultivation.

  The fourth pair of eyes continued struggling, attempting to break free. The person represented by these eyes clearly possessed a deeper understanding of divination than the other three and was now trying to counter-divine Dao Jun’s actions.

  Cutting off the tail was easy for Dao Jun, but dealing with these four would be a challenge in his current state. At first, he thought sacrificing his three treasures would be enough to kill the mastermind, but who would have thought there were more than one?

  Moreover, the nature of the vision indicated that these four had special protection against divination. It could be a secret skill, a powerful divination tool, or even a formation shielding them from prying eyes.

  Dao Jun calculated his chances of cursing his enemies, but the odds were against him. Even if he exhausted the incense’s power, he wouldn't be able to kill them all. If he focused the curse entirely on one person, he might succeed in stopping them from constantly deducing his location—but at best, they would be gravely wounded, and at worst, dead.

  "Not enough," Dao Jun muttered between clenched teeth. The feeling of powerlessness against those weaker than him filled him with anger and hatred. He had once been a mighty Nascent Soul True Lord, yet mere mortals in this world dared to covet his treasures.

  If only... if only his foundation remained intact, he could have flicked his finger and cursed them to death one by one, making their final days more miserable than death itself.

  Alas… he was no longer the esteemed Nascent Soul True Lord. Except for the knowledge and skills he had mastered, nothing remained to help him eliminate his enemies from this distance.

  It wasn’t impossible, but it would require meticulous preparation. Right now, however, he lacked the time.

  The fourth pair of eyes was already halfway to breaking through the barrier concealing Dao Jun’s spying. Once they realized they had been exposed, they might throw everything they had at eliminating him.

  "If the three treasures aren't enough to stop them, then there's nothing more to say," Dao Jun stated coldly. Since he had already decided to abolish his cultivation, he might as well use it to fuel the ritual.

  "But my cultivation alone is not enough…" Another surge of anger erupted from the depths of his heart. He roared furiously, "Then I will also sacrifice my soul body!"

  Under his control, the green flames atop the incense flared wildly, consuming the remaining incense bodies and pumping more white smoke into the air.

  A red thread suddenly emerged from Dao Jun’s dantian and flew toward the dense cloud of white smoke. From the four pairs of eyes, similar red threads formed and met Dao Jun’s in midair. The threads fused seamlessly without obstruction.

  From the center of Dao Jun’s forehead, a faint light emerged—it was his soul body, identical in shape to him but composed of pure light. The soul body covered its right eye with its left palm, and when it uncovered it, the right eye was gone, leaving an empty socket. Then, it placed its left hand on its right shoulder, and the right arm disappeared into nothingness.

  But that was still not enough. The soul body moved its left hand, pointing its index finger at its right leg. The right leg soon vanished like the right arm.

  "It’s barely enough," the soul body remarked with an emotionless expression.

  The three incense sticks burned away completely.

  "But," the soul body observed as the white smoke gradually turned gray, darkening with each passing moment. The fourth pair of eyes, which had been struggling to break free, was now being suppressed by the spreading gray smoke.

  This level of preparation was only enough to sever the karmic connection between Dao Jun and the first three pairs of eyes. The fourth, however, was simply too powerful.

  Moreover, severing the connection wouldn't solve the problem permanently—a new link could always be forged in the future.

  The soul body turned toward the physical body. At some point, Dao Jun’s eyes had turned pitch black, and a dark aura, thick with negative emotions, radiated from him.

  The world of immortality was rich in spiritual power, but those with weak talent often sought shortcuts, becoming demonic cultivators. They absorbed the blood and essence of others to increase their cultivation, refined souls to harness resentment as strength, and had no bottom line—everything could be used to make themselves stronger.

  Dao Jun had explored the demonic path as well. He studied their methods and mastered their secrets. From there, he transformed techniques riddled with drawbacks, traps, and dangers into extreme methods.

  Though still demonic in nature, these methods had their negative aspects mitigated or neutralized—either through Dao Jun's refinements or through safeguards he had devised. One such method was the Red and Black Demonic Attachment of Worldly Possession.

  This extreme technique involved planting an obsession seed in the heart, tying it to physical objects. The user would then become emotionally bound to their possessions, to the extent that losing them would drive them into madness.

  Dao Jun had already been forced to abandon his external possessions, and the obsession seed had germinated in his heart, slowly clouding his sanity. To perform the ritual, he sacrificed his three treasures, further nurturing the seed’s growth. Now, he had also sacrificed his cultivation and parts of his soul body, catalyzing the seed into full bloom.

  At this moment, no sanity remained in Dao Jun’s physical body. However, his awareness was split—two separate perceptions, two separate minds. His soul body retained clarity and had assumed control, while his physical body had descended into demonic madness.

  The inferior spiritual energy surrounding Dao Jun was stirred, surging toward him. The black aura around his body intensified, strengthening him further.

  "Turning into a demon is indeed a good way to gain power," the soul body murmured, observing the transformation. "But the price is too steep. Only the truly desperate resort to this path."

  The obsession seed had grown into a tree of attachment, and Dao Jun’s mind had collapsed. Yet something was missing.

  “There is only black aura… If I can also produce red aura, it will be better and further increase my strength… but…” The soul body’s voice was steady, cold. "Red aura requires the loss of loved ones."

  He made a mental note of the timing. Once Dao Jun fully transformed into a demon, the final stage of the ritual could begin.

  Inside Dao Jun’s body, above his heart, a small, leafless white tree quivered. A black flower bloomed at its tip.

  Dao Jun let out a deafening roar.

  The black aura surged skyward but was suppressed by the ongoing ritual.

  The time had come.

  The soul body raised its hand. “Cut.”

  It made a swift chopping motion toward Dao Jun.

  The black aura around him went wild, spiraling into the air and gathering into a single point. The dark mist poured out of Dao Jun’s body, coalescing into a demonic figure above him.

  The demon was pure black, its bloodshot eyes blazing with silent fury as it glared at the soul body.

  "A mere heart demon?" The soul body sneered. "Go."

  Activating the ritual, he directed its power to consume the newly formed demon.

  The demon writhed in agony, its form slowly dissipating as though it were evaporating. The gray smoke surrounding it darkened further with each passing moment.

  When the last trace of black aura was extracted, Dao Jun’s body collapsed.

  His once-youthful figure had withered. His skin was dry, wrinkled—he now resembled an old man on the verge of death. His physical perception had fallen into a coma, leaving the soul body as his sole awareness.

  The soul body formed a hand seal, executing a complex series of gestures drawn from his vast knowledge.

  At the ritual’s center, the now pitch-black smoke trembled violently. The red thread connecting Dao Jun and his enemies quivered as an immense force of causality pressed upon it, ready to snap.

  "Better to never meet again than to turn into enemies.

  Five autumns of long dreams, five springs of fleeting nights.

  Let cause and effect be fulfilled at the destined place."

  With these words, the soul body pointed at the red thread.

  Snap.

  The thread broke instantly, severing the karmic connection between Dao Jun and his pursuers.

  But it did more than that—it granted him ten years of absolute protection from their divination arts.

  The soul body exhaled softly. “Now, only the tail remain—”

  Before it could finish, its consciousness faded.

  The light within its body dimmed, and under its tether to the physical body, it was drawn back into Dao Jun’s glabella.

  …

  One of the neighboring states of Chu State was Qiuye State, controlled by the Lin Clan.

  At the heart of Qiuye State, where a noble clan held dominion, stood the Lin Clan’s main estate—a vast territory, nearly the size of a city itself. Within its boundaries lay countless pavilions, towering buildings, and forbidden areas.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Among these restricted zones was the White Bamboo Forest.

  The entire area was shrouded in dense, pale bamboo that stretched skyward, their narrow gaps leaving no space for prying eyes to glimpse beyond. At the center of this secluded forest, a clearing had been carved out, where a simple yet elegant pavilion stood in solitude.

  Two men sat within it, engaged in a game of chess.

  The man on the right was an elderly figure, his head full of white hair, facing another man who, though aged, still retained the vigor of his youth.

  They played in silence—until, all at once, both men raised their heads and turned toward the same direction.

  A feeling of absence had settled upon them.

  As masters of Divination Arts, they immediately sought to deduce what had just transpired. Soon, they arrived at an unsettling realization.

  “What a disaster,” the old man on the right sighed. His name was Lin Chongmo, but though his voice carried weight, his gaze never wavered from the chessboard.

  Seated opposite him was Lin Yude.

  “Someone…” Lin Yude attempted to speak but found his thoughts severed, his words dissolving before they could be uttered. His lips parted, yet nothing came forth, as though an invisible force had cut off his ability to express what he knew.

  He frowned deeply, his agitation growing. The harder he tried to recall his interrupted thoughts, the more restless he became.

  After straining his mind and body to their limits, all he managed was a few silent movements of his lips—opening, closing, but producing no sound.

  “Ten years,” Lin Chongmo suddenly interrupted.

  “Ten years…” Lin Yude echoed, exhaling sharply as he regained control over his energy. He squinted his eyes and added, “Ten years is not long. For those like us, detached from the mortal realm, it is nothing but the blink of an eye.”

  “Yet it is still enough for us to hunt—”

  Again, he was cut off.

  Each time he reached a subject, his mind turned blank, refusing to hold onto the thought. He understood what had happened—but no matter how much he struggled, he could not express it.

  Lin Chongmo, though similarly affected, remained composed.

  “Ten years is the standard duration for such a spell to take effect. Cutting off causality so completely that it manifests physically… It is no small feat.” His fingers tapped lightly against the chessboard. “I can hardly recall anyone outside our clan possessing such mastery over the Divination Arts.”

  He let out a soft sigh. “Alas… the sun sets, the moon rises. What has happened cannot be undone. The cause and effect between us have already become irreconcilable.”

  “Hmph,” Lin Yude scoffed at Lin Chongmo’s reflective tone, his expression sharp. “What do you know? You’re so old that you’ve lost your courage—hiding your fangs, dulling your claws. You’re no different from a domesticated house pet.”

  His voice grew colder.

  “Like you said, ten years is the standard duration—but that is only if we do nothing about it. I don’t know what kind of Divination Inheritance was used, but the Lin Clan will not be hindered for long. If we persist, we can reduce this so-called ten years to just five!”

  Lin Yude spoke with conviction. He was not boasting about breaking Dao Jun’s method of severing their causality—he truly believed that in five years’ time, its flaws would reveal themselves.

  As Lin Yude plotted his next move against Dao Jun, Lin Chongmo silently observed the chessboard. His gaze lingered on the hanging chess piece that Lin Yude held midair, hesitating to place.

  “Are you going to play your move or not?” Lin Chongmo’s voice was calm, yet his meaning was clear—no matter what you do, you cannot change the current situation.

  Just like their game of chess, Lin Chongmo had the advantage.

  Lin Yude lowered his gaze, realizing the parallel between his predicament on the chessboard and their clan’s situation. In both cases, no immediate solution existed.

  “Humph.”

  Annoyed, Lin Yude rose from his seat and threw the chess piece back into its bowl. Without another word, he strode out of the pavilion, his footsteps firm as he stepped onto the white stone path, the sole opening in the bamboo forest.

  “I’m not in the mood to play today,” he declared. “We’ll continue another time.”

  With that, he disappeared into the dark tunnel at the end of the path.

  Lin Chongmo watched as the shadows swallowed Lin Yude’s figure.

  After a moment of silence, he picked up a chess piece, rolling it between his fingers as he stared down at the board.

  His eyes gleamed with a faint divine light.

  He tried everything he could to trace back the cause—but nothing worked.

  “Such a powerful method…” he murmured. “And demonic in nature, at that.”

  With a flick of his fingers, the chess piece crumbled into fine dust.

  “But it is more than that…”

  Lin Chongmo suffered the same limitation as Lin Yude.

  Even he could not directly name their target.

  He exhaled slowly. “Such a fierce individual… This spell holds no power on its own—it merely serves as a platform for an exchange.”

  It followed the natural laws, upholding cause and effect as dictated by fate.

  Yet somehow, its user had weaponized it—twisting a simple technique into a force capable of severing a karmic connection.

  “This is far too dangerous…” Lin Chongmo muttered, turning his gaze toward another location.

  “Zhongyun… how will you deal with this disaster?”

  A hint of foreboding flashed across his expression.

  “There are only two obstacles in your way, yet neither is something our Lin Clan can hope to contend with…”

  His voice dropped to a whisper.

  “You have meddled too much, blinded by immediate gain…”

  A long sigh.

  “What a shame… what a shame.”

  His final words drifted into the air, swallowed by the rustling of the white bamboo grove.

  Deep within the Lin Clan’s main estate.

  In the deepest part of the Lin Clan’s territory, an area where only a handful of people were permitted entry, a set of heavy doors suddenly swung open.

  A man strode in, his pace swift, though his face showed no trace of urgency.

  With each step, he crossed more than ten meters in a single breath.

  Seated at the center of the room on a high chair was an old man. Time had left deep marks upon him—his skin wrinkled, his body weathered, yet his presence remained unshaken.

  Without lifting his gaze, the old man spoke.

  “Why do you barge in so rudely?”

  His voice was calm, yet cold, devoid of emotion.

  This man was Lin Xian, First Grand Elder of the Lin Clan.

  The one who had entered was Lin Zhongyun. He had been moving forward when, suddenly, he halted, raising his head to meet Lin Xian’s eyes.

  “Something is wrong.”

  His words came out in a single breath, sharp and direct.

  Lin Xian, however, remained unmoved.

  “If you speak of causality, then there was no need to come rushing to me,” he said coolly. “Even if you hadn’t informed me, Chongmo and Yude would have already noticed it.”

  His voice was as distant as ever—steady, measured, magnetic.

  “No, it’s not just that,” Lin Zhongyun shook his head firmly. “This goes beyond causality.”

  He inhaled deeply, his expression filled with a mix of excitement and anticipation.

  “I don’t need to tell you how powerful this method is—to not only sever cause and effect but to materialize its effects in the physical world. That alone is astonishing.

  "But that’s only part of the picture. What I want to discuss is far more than this!”

  His body quivered as he spoke.

  “Can you see it, First Grand Elder?”

  A grin spread across Lin Zhongyun’s face. His eyes gleamed with ambition.

  “It is immortal fate!”

  A low, delighted chuckle escaped him.

  “Hahaha! My prediction was not wrong—an immortal, banished into the mortal realm!”

  His breathing quickened as his excitement swelled.

  “As long as we capture—”

  Suddenly, his words cut off.

  The spell’s effect had taken hold once more.

  Lin Zhongyun could not say the name.

  But his fervor did not wane.

  Since he couldn’t directly name Dao Jun, he merely replaced him with a placeholder.

  “As long as we capture the Little Dog, our Lin Clan will flourish beyond imagination! We will rise to heights that no other clan can rival!”

  Even as First Grand Elder, Lin Xian had to admit—when it came to Divination Arts, he was not as skilled as Lin Chongmo or Lin Zhongyun.

  All he could perceive was the blockage in causality, nothing more.

  “Tell me more.”

  His curiosity had been piqued.

  Lin Zhongyun’s smile deepened.

  “The way of Heavenly Secrets has not been completely severed, as you might expect,” he explained. “In fact, it is impossible to truly cut off karmic connections—nothing in existence is entirely independent.

  “The only exceptions would be a transcendent sage or a Buddha.”

  Lin Xian’s brows furrowed slightly. “Then, what has happened?”

  Lin Zhongyun’s eyes gleamed.

  “The connection hasn’t been severed. It’s merely been blocked—by two things.”

  He paused for effect.

  “One is strength.”

  “The other… is luck.”

  Lin Xian’s gaze sharpened.

  “What are they?”

  Lin Zhongyun shook his head, frustration flickering across his features.

  “I can’t see them clearly right now. The Little Dog’s technique is too refined, and his energy is too stable. I will need time to observe—once his spell starts to weaken, I’ll be able to unravel its mysteries.”

  Lin Xian remained silent for a moment, contemplating the implications.

  Then, with an air of finality, he said,

  “If that’s the case, then you may leave.”

  Lin Zhongyun, however, suddenly pulled out a compass from his sleeve.

  “Wait! Wait, First Grand Elder!”

  He hurriedly pointed at the compass’s chaotic needles—five pointers of varying lengths, each moving erratically.

  “Look! The situation has changed!”

  Lin Xian narrowed his eyes.

  “We are no longer limited to sending only one team!”

  Lin Xian’s gaze flickered with surprise.

  Previously, they had been restricted—only one team had been allowed to pursue Dao Jun.

  Lin Zhongyun had insisted that sending more would alert the target.

  It had already been an achievement to track Dao Jun to within a kilometer before he noticed them.

  But now…

  Lin Xian did not respond immediately.

  Instead, he waited for Lin Zhongyun to continue.

  The compass needles spun wildly, devoid of pattern.

  But to Lin Zhongyun, they spoke volumes.

  He raised his head, staring beyond the ceiling, as if peering directly into the Heavens.

  “The dynasty’s luck is barely enough to counter the Little Dog’s skill.”

  His voice was filled with conviction.

  “Though the signs indicate change, the path ahead remains treacherous. We are no longer limited to just one True Master for the search…”

  Lin Zhongyun paused, then emphasized his next words heavily.

  “But we still cannot deploy a Grandmaster.”

  Lin Xian absorbed his words carefully.

  “There is a vast chasm between True Masters and Grandmasters,” Lin Zhongyun continued. “If a Grandmaster were to enter the fray, it would destabilize the balance, introducing unforeseen variables.

  “The final outcome would become unpredictable.

  “And worse… we might lose the Little Dog for more than ten years.”

  Lin Xian pondered deeply.

  Then, he made his decision.

  “Very well. Send everyone. Search the land and the rivers.

  “We may no longer be able to use divination, but brute force will suffice.

  “We have already offended the Little Dog—so we might as well end this quickly.”

  With that, he sent a secret message to his subordinates, ordering the full mobilization of the clan’s forces.

  Though he could not mention who or what they were searching for, he simply gave a single command:

  Eliminate anyone suspicious.

  With one order—countless people would be caught in the blind hunt.

  Lin Xian’s eyes flickered.

  “Is there anything else you wish to say?”

  Lin Zhongyan, still staring at his compass, glanced at Lin Xian. He hesitated for a moment before deciding to voice his thoughts. “First Grand Elder, without our assistance and clear information, searching for the Little Dog will be difficult. How about we use the clan formation to shift the dynasty’s luck once more and pinpoint the Little Dog’s location?”

  Lin Xian cast a look at Lin Zhongyan, who still seemed uncertain. “It’s not as simple as you think. Moving it occasionally won’t have much impact, but using it multiple times in a single day will alert the other clans. It’s not impossible to use it again, but proper preparations must be made. In the meantime, the clan members will do their best to search for the Little Dog.”

  Just as Lin Zhongyan was about to say something, Lin Xian continued. “No objections. Just as every warrior has their own unique insight into martial arts, the same applies to those of us who practice the Divination Arts. You excel at reading the heavenly secrets, while I specialize in ending karmic entanglement. Our clansmen won’t search for the Little Dog blindly—they will have clues to follow under my guidance. However, it will take time to implement.”

  Lin Zhongyan looked at the cold and emotionless Lin Xian. He knew Lin Zhongyan was a genius in Divination Arts, yet compared to the elders, he still lacked their expertise. Among the four Grandmasters that mastered Divination Arts, the other three had already forged their own paths. Only newly promoted Grandmasters like Lin Zhongyan were still learning and carving out his own specialties.

  With a respectful bow, Lin Zhongyan left the room.

  Meanwhile, on the other place in the Chu State.

  A group of pursuers raced across the land, their figures ghostly shadows in the moonlit dark. At the forefront, their captain led the charge, his hand gripping a compass that pulsed with guiding energy.

  Then, without warning, the compass lost its reaction.

  The captain came to an abrupt halt.

  Though the needle still pointed in a direction, it no longer tracked its target.

  His eyes flickered coldly as he recalled the orders he had been given before departure.

  After a moment of deliberation, he turned to his subordinates. “Our mission ends here. Follow the previous arrangements and stay in contact. Disperse.”

  At his command, the group immediately scattered, each operative vanishing into the night, heading in different directions.

  Soon, only the captain and one other man remained.

  The remaining man stepped forward hesitantly. “Uncle… may I follow you?”

  The captain turned, his gaze settling on the young man, his name was Lin Tuling.

  "This mission is of great importance to our family," he said slowly. "If we succeed, the merits will be unparalleled—greater than any accomplishment since the family’s founding. Do you understand what that means?"

  Lin Tuling pondered for a moment before answering. “Because it will influence the balance between the great clans?”

  The captain, Lin Yangshe shook his head, his disappointment evident.

  "You are only half right. What you see is the bright side. But because this mission is so important, failure will bring consequences unlike anything our family has ever faced.

  "Tell me, did you notice who was leading this operation?"

  Lin Tuling hesitated, then realization dawned. “The Sixth Grand Elder…”

  Lin Yangshe nodded. “Do you know what level he has reached in the Art of Divination?"

  Lin Tuling swallowed but did not answer.

  "Before we departed," Lin Yangshe continued, "I saw the Sixth Grand Elder activate the clan’s grand formation to assist him."

  That alone spoke volumes.

  After a moment of silence, Lin Yangshe’s voice softened. He reached out, placing a firm hand on his nephew’s shoulder.

  "You are only twenty-four and already a Master. Your future potential is limitless. If you train steadily, reaching the True Master realm is only a matter of time. As for the next realm…"

  He withdrew his hand. “That will depend on your luck.”

  Lin Tuling was deeply moved by his uncle’s words. With newfound resolve, he bowed slightly. “I will remember Uncle’s advice and train diligently.”

  Seeing his nephew’s sincerity, Lin Yangshe turned away.

  “The dangers ahead are unknown," he warned. "If you follow me, you must obey my every command without question. Can you do that?”

  The young man straightened his back. Though the night wind was cold, the warmth of conviction burned in his chest.

  “I will follow your orders without hesitation. Captain!”

  Lin Yangshe heard the firm response and, beneath his mask, allowed a faint smile.

  With a stern voice, he gave his final order.

  "Let’s go."