When the sun finally rose, the first ray of light illuminated the land.

  The wind traveled freely through the forest, producing a whistling sound as it gently rustled the leaves.

  Lying on the hard, cold ground, Dao Jun slowly regained consciousness. The first thing he did was spread his divine sense before opening his eyes. Two different perspectives emerged in his mind—one from his soul body and another from his physical body.

  Through his soul perception, he could see everything within a one-meter radius. Previously, his range had been five meters, but now it had diminished significantly.

  His divine sense, which once reached much farther, did not detect any danger, so Dao Jun turned his attention to his current condition.

  The ritual last night had placed a tremendous burden on his body. Calling it a burden was an understatement—it had essentially crippled his foundation.

  "My Qi Refining cultivation is gone."

  Dao Jun checked his dantian. Even without cultivation, there should still be an empty dantian, but due to the nature of his ritual, he had not held back in making his sacrifice. He had not only given up his cultivation but also severed his immortal dao foundation.

  "My physical body is exhausted and has regressed to its natural state—mortal, plagued by aging and sickness."

  Now, Dao Jun resembled an old man in his seventies, with sagging skin, discoloration, unkempt white hair, weak muscles, brittle bones, and dulled senses.

  "Lifespan…"

  As an immortal cultivator, Dao Jun naturally paid great attention to his longevity. Now that the primary source of his prolonged existence was gone, he could not escape his demise. However, as his soul perception displayed everything within his one-meter range, he noticed something strange.

  "Hmm..?"

  Dao Jun frowned as he retracted his divine sense, directing it deeper into his own body. As his divine sense intertwined with his soul perception, he discovered something unexpected—he could not determine his own lifespan.

  Just as he was about to cast a soul spell to investigate further, he halted his actions. He raised his gaze, staring at the trees before him. He sensed the inferior spiritual energy that barely existed in this world. Lastly, he looked up at the rising sun.

  A strange premonition settled in his heart.

  "Is it possible?"

  Dao Jun's first instinct was to deny the thought that surfaced in his mind.

  A cultivator's lifespan was determined by their vital essence, which acted like fuel, while lifespan was the fire that burned upon it. Though there was a clear connection between them, it was not absolute causation. A cultivator could have a short lifespan despite abundant vital essence—this was often the case for those who cultivated wood-based techniques in the Immortal World. However, the reverse was never true. Depleted or insufficient vital essence always resulted in a shortened lifespan.

  Lifespan was a shackle imposed by the heavens to limit living beings and maintain balance.

  Right now, Dao Jun, who had crippled both his Qi and Body, should have had little to no vital essence remaining—especially considering he had lived for five hundred years in the Immortal World.

  Yet reality deviated from his expectations. He indeed had only a small amount of vital essence left, but his perception of his lifespan was distorted. It did not match his previous understanding—where low vital essence equaled a short lifespan.

  "According to the rules of immortal cultivation, with this amount of vital essence, I should only have hours left to live. I shouldn’t even see the sunset at the end of the day… I anticipated this outcome when performing the ritual. So why… why is my lifespan gone?"

  "No, it isn't completely gone, but the direct correlation between vital essence and lifespan has weakened—why? What is happening? Does this mean that despite my low vital essence, I can still survive for much longer?"

  "This doesn’t make sense!"

  Dao Jun had always been someone who sought to understand the why and how of things. He had extensively researched lifespan and vital essence, hoping to find a way to cheat death through his ingenuity—his mind, which was unlike any other.

  But in the end, his research had failed him. Though he had made many discoveries, he had been incapable of achieving his ultimate goal—to prolong his lifespan without any drawbacks.

  Of course, he had come across various methods to extend his life, but all were heavily limited. They either required precious resources or outright plundering the lifespans of others. None of these were acceptable solutions, so he had abandoned his research.

  His final conclusion had been that vital essence was indeed difficult to increase and replenish. Lifespan, bound to higher concepts and laws—such as the will of heaven—was even more difficult to manipulate.

  Now, after scanning his body with every method available to him, Dao Jun was finally able to make some sense of his situation.

  "First, I am no longer in the Immortal World. This is an entirely new world with its own set of rules and laws.

  Second, my own condition is strange. I have embarked on a new path—my Soul Refining path.

  And lastly, though I appear human in this world, I may not be the same as them."

  These three factors were the only reasonable explanations Dao Jun could think of.

  The first was due to his limited knowledge of the world's laws—he had only been a Nascent Soul cultivator, after all.

  The second was his intuition—his Soul Refining path was vastly different from the paths of Qi and Body Refining, full of mysteries waiting to be explored.

  And the third… his arrival in this world had been unconventional. He had not simply traversed space; he had been directly transported into this world through an unknown method.

  After making some adjustments in his calculations, Dao Jun finally determined his lifespan.

  "According to my new deductions, I should be able to live for another four years. But that is the optimistic outcome. My body is in such a terrible state that my lifespan will likely be shortened in the near future.

  In the end, if I don’t take action to restore my body, I will only have a week left to live."

  Four years—this was based on the assumption that Dao Jun’s condition would remain stable. But that was not the case. His body was still suffering from the effects of the Rank Five poison he had been afflicted with before arriving in this world. His decline would not be a linear process but a cascade of problems—one after another—leaving him with only a single week to survive.

  After assessing his lifespan, Dao Jun turned his attention to his soul body.

  Sacrificing the heart demon had not been enough—his soul body had also suffered severe damage. At present, it was still recovering from the aftereffects.

  "I won’t be able to use my soul energy for a day or two," Dao Jun muttered, shaking his head.

  His soul methods were the only abilities he had left to defend himself, and now, even that last resort was beyond his reach.

  Dao Jun raised his right hand and pinched his fingers together. He was attempting a simple divination to glimpse into the near future.

  Although he could not mobilize his soul energy, his vision remained intact. As someone who had attained great accomplishments in the Divination Arts, performing a minor reading would still offer him some insight.

  It took him more than five minutes to barely enter the proper state of mind. Yet, once he did, the attempt lasted only two breaths before he was violently repelled.

  He coughed heavily, gasping for breath.

  "I always looked down on those divination masters who sacrificed their lifespan to glimpse heavenly secrets beyond their reach. But now that I’m in their position, I finally understand their struggle. It’s like a mortal trying to split the sky—the burden is simply too great."

  Dao Jun had always been someone who acted in moderation. Since he could not see further into the future, he decisively abandoned the attempt.

  He glanced around. The trees were sparse but provided enough cover to blend into the wilderness.

  Approaching the nearest tree, he placed his palm against its trunk. He inhaled deeply through his nose, and a small amount of soul energy stirred, transforming into a soul spell.

  The once-healthy tree withered rapidly as if washed away by the torrents of time. Within a minute, all that remained was a brittle, lifeless trunk.

  Dao Jun carefully examined the vitality he had extracted from the tree, analyzing its characteristics.

  "Not as abundant as I had hoped… There is some life force within, but it isn’t suitable for human consumption. I could refine a better conversion method, but the upper limit remains."

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  Though trees were living beings, their spirituality was far inferior to that of humans or animals. They contained abundant life energy, but that was their sole advantage.

  Yet, just because it was not ideal for absorption did not mean Dao Jun would ignore it.

  He moved to the next tree and absorbed its vitality. Then another. And another.

  By the time he finished, he had drained five trees in total.

  It was not that he could not absorb more—his soul body was reaching its limit. Extracting and converting the trees’ vitality required soul energy, and while it nourished his physical body, it came at the cost of further exhausting his already damaged soul.

  Now reinvigorated, Dao Jun finally moved from his spot.

  His earlier divination had been successful, but only marginally useful. Still, it was enough to provide some guidance—better than wandering aimlessly.

  After walking for over three hours, Dao Jun finally emerged from the forest and found a dirt road.

  He pinched his fingers together, intending to perform another divination. But the moment his fingers met, he stopped himself.

  He could no longer afford another reading. His soul body was stretched too thin—if he forced another divination, his soul would suffer further damage before he could obtain any meaningful insight.

  Without the aid of divination, Dao Jun could only rely on his intuition. He chose to head left.

  He was not necessarily seeking the nearest human settlement—his priority was avoiding danger. At least until he recovered enough to protect himself.

  Staying in the forest was an option, but his pursuers would not be far behind. Some of them would likely conduct a thorough search of his last known location.

  That left him with one choice—to blend in among others and hide his presence.

  Dao Jun focused on the road ahead, carefully observing his surroundings. On the surface, however, he appeared to be nothing more than an ordinary old man.

  Thirty minutes later, his divine sense detected movement.

  With a range of only three meters, his divine sense was far less useful than his own eyesight. Even before it registered the disturbance, his eyes had already spotted three figures approaching.

  Two of them had been chatting but fell silent upon noticing Dao Jun.

  Dao Jun instinctively wanted to avoid them, but doing so would only draw attention. Instead, he remained where he was, waiting for them to close the distance.

  The man leading the group was the largest and clearly the leader. His name was Da Hu. His rough, scarred face and imposing frame exuded menace. A sword hung from his waist.

  Behind him were his two younger brothers, Er Hu and San Hu. The three called themselves the Tiger Brothers—bandits who terrorized nearby villages and lived in the wilderness to evade capture.

  "Oh? Old man, why are you alone?" Er Hu asked, grinning as he brazenly scanned Dao Jun from head to toe.

  "Second Brother, why bother talking to this old thing? Just kill him already!" San Hu said eagerly, drawing his sword.

  "You’re too bloodthirsty," Er Hu scolded. He turned to Da Hu. "Big Brother, what do you think?"

  Da Hu stood directly in front of Dao Jun, towering over him. His eyes were cold and emotionless.

  "Who are you, and where are you headed?" Da Hu demanded. His voice carried the weight of violence.

  Dao Jun displayed fear and anxiety befitting his current appearance. His body trembled, and he avoided their gazes.

  "Heroes, please… show mercy. I am just an old man, traveling to visit my relatives."

  He dropped to his knees, kowtowing as he pleaded for his life.

  "Please, Heroes, show mercy. Please…"

  Er Hu remained silent, but San Hu grew irritated.

  "You old thing, shut up!" San Hu barked. "You’re already at death’s door. What’s the point of sparing your life?"

  Though San Hu was impatient, he did not overstep his role as the youngest. He merely hurled insults without taking action.

  Dao Jun's body stiffened under San Hu’s shout, but he kept his head low, continuing to beg silently.

  Da Hu observed everything calmly before finally speaking.

  "Old man, raise your head."

  Dao Jun obeyed, though his eyes remained lowered, avoiding direct eye contact.

  His face bore the marks of time—his eyes, once sharp, were now clouded with the dim light of dusk.

  "Please, spare my life, Heroes," Dao Jun begged again.

  "Your clothes are in decent condition. Were they given to you by your relatives?" Da Hu asked.

  Dao Jun had anticipated this issue. He had deliberately rolled on the ground several times to make his clothes appear worn, but the fabric's quality was still evident. He could have used a soul spell to degrade them further, but it would have been a waste.

  "No, they were given to me by some generous travelers. My old clothes were falling apart, and on my journey to visit my relatives, I received these as charity."

  Then, in an effort to avoid unnecessary trouble, Dao Jun added, "Heroes, if you want them, please take them. Just spare my life."

  Da Hu continued to scrutinize Dao Jun without missing a single detail.

  Finally, he said, "Alright. You can buy your life with these clothes."

  Dao Jun displayed immense relief and kowtowed three times, each bow producing a loud thud as his forehead struck the ground.

  "Thank you, thank you, great heroes!"

  He then began removing his clothing while still kneeling. First, his outer robe, then his inner garments, leaving his upper body bare. With some difficulty, he removed his pants as well, leaving only a single undergarment to preserve his modesty.

  He neatly folded the clothes and placed them in front of him, offering them to Da Hu.

  "Great Heroes, please accept my offering."

  Da Hu watched silently, his expression unreadable. He could find no flaw in Dao Jun’s behavior, yet something about the old man unsettled him.

  As a bandit, Da Hu understood how dangerous the world could be. Appearances were deceiving—one could not judge a person’s depth by their looks alone. Old or young, weak or strong, every individual could carry hidden dangers.

  Since choosing this life of banditry, Da Hu had always been cautious. He and his brothers had established their base in this remote area precisely to avoid risks beyond their capabilities.

  As the silence stretched on, Dao Jun’s anxiety visibly grew. He wanted to speak but dared not do so.

  Da Hu’s sharp eyes remained locked onto him before he finally made a subtle hand gesture.

  San Hu responded immediately, his face lighting up with excitement. The Big Brother had given his approval—there was no need to wait any longer! He stepped forward eagerly.

  “Hahaha! Old thing, you should be grateful to Big Brother!” San Hu sneered.

  Dao Jun remained kneeling and kowtowed once again, shifting his body slightly to present the folded clothes.

  San Hu reached out and grabbed them carelessly. Running his fingers over the fabric, he could not help but admire the texture.

  "Not bad, not bad! Clothes like these are wasted on an old thing like you."

  Holding the bundle in one hand, he circled around Dao Jun, then suddenly threw an arm around his neck.

  "You really are an old bag of bones," he said mockingly before withdrawing his arm as if touching something filthy.

  Seeing his offering accepted, Dao Jun hesitated before speaking, his voice timid.

  “Heroes… may I leave now?”

  Da Hu did not answer. Instead, San Hu responded with a cruel chuckle.

  "You old fool, can’t you see the situation?"

  With a sudden kick to Dao Jun’s back, San Hu sent him sprawling onto the dirt. The frail body trembled, and a muffled groan of pain escaped his lips, though he suppressed any further outcry.

  “He-heroes, please… spare my life! I have nothing else of value—I only wish to see my relatives one last time before I die,” Dao Jun pleaded, pushing himself up to kowtow once more.

  "Hahaha!" San Hu laughed before snorting.

  "What are you even talking about? No one said you could leave."

  "But—" Dao Jun started, his voice weak.

  Before he could finish, San Hu kicked him again, sending him tumbling forward.

  "Not only are you old, but you’re stupid as well! Don’t you realize how valuable these clothes are? If I killed you while you were still wearing them, I’d have to waste time washing out the blood. But now that you've taken them off yourself, I can cut you down without the hassle! Hahaha!"

  San Hu playfully swung his sword, ready to strike.

  Dao Jun sighed inwardly.

  He had hoped to avoid confrontation. Right now, his soul body was still injured, and any use of soul spells would worsen its condition, delaying his recovery.

  But that did not mean he was powerless.

  His soul body, which had remained in a meditative state since he woke up, opened its eyes. Even while healing, it had continued to analyze and adjust itself, working toward a method that could restore its full strength efficiently.

  Dao Jun’s mind raced.

  "The big one is the strongest—a Second-rate Warrior. The other two are Third-rate Warriors. A simple immobilization spell won’t work on them; it would only waste energy. A direct killing spell is the most cost-effective choice."

  Under normal circumstances, a simple restraint technique would have sufficed. But now, with his soul foundation damaged, the effectiveness of many of his techniques had plummeted.

  Since deception could buy him time, he had chosen to act like a helpless old fool. His mental state had long since transcended pride—humiliation meant nothing in the face of survival.

  Strength, wealth, status, pleasure—none of it mattered if he became nothing but a pile of dirt in the end.

  There was no shame in survival.

  Just as his soul body prepared to cast a spell—

  "Wait!"

  A sudden shout cut through the air, halting San Hu’s downward strike.

  But San Hu was too bloodthirsty to listen. His sword still swung down at Dao Jun.

  By sheer instinct, Dao Jun’s body trembled and jerked away at the last moment, narrowly dodging the attack.

  The Tiger Brothers turned their heads toward the source of the voice.

  From the road, a monk was approaching them at a run.

  The monk was young, likely in his early twenties, yet his physique was robust—his muscles were well-defined beneath his simple cassock.

  Er Hu, being the closest, moved to intercept the monk.

  Before he could react, the monk struck him with a single palm. Er Hu raised his arms to defend himself, but the force sent him flying several meters backward.

  Da Hu’s eyes widened in shock. He did not step forward, but he no longer dared to act rashly.

  San Hu, seeing his older brother sent flying, immediately lost his earlier arrogance. He backed away instinctively.

  The monk finally arrived in front of Dao Jun. He clasped his hands together and chanted,

  "My Buddha is merciful. I am glad I arrived in time."

  Extending a hand, he helped Dao Jun to his feet.

  Dao Jun’s expression remained frozen in disbelief for a moment, then filled with gratitude.

  “Ah…”

  He seemed at a loss for words.

  “It’s alright, Donor. I will help you through this trial.” The monk’s voice was warm and reassuring.

  Dao Jun nodded repeatedly, his head bobbing like a chicken pecking at grain.

  “Thank you! Thank you for saving me, Master Monk!”

  Once Dao Jun was standing, the monk turned his attention to the bandits. His expression remained calm, but his intent was clear.

  Da Hu spoke first, his tone cold but measured.

  "Monk, we will let you and the old man go. We will go our own way. There is no need for a fight."

  The monk pressed his palms together and recited,

  "My Buddha is merciful. If the donors have already come to this decision, then let us part peacefully."

  Er Hu and San Hu regrouped with Da Hu, retreating cautiously. They walked backward, keeping their eyes on the monk until they vanished into the forest.

  The monk then turned back to Dao Jun, concern in his voice.

  "Donor, how are you feeling?"

  Dao Jun remained silent for a moment, staring at the spot where the bandits had disappeared.

  When he finally spoke, his voice was filled with curiosity rather than gratitude.

  "Monk, you are stronger than them. Why did you let them go?"

  The monk had encountered this question many times before. He had an answer ready.

  But just as he was about to speak, he hesitated.

  He could see something deeper in Dao Jun’s expression—this was not a question of anger, nor was there hatred. There was no emotion at all. Only pure confusion.

  The monk followed his intuition and asked, "Donor, what do you mean by that?"

  Dao Jun blinked and responded in an innocent tone,

  "You let them go now. But who will help their future victims?"

  The monk had heard similar arguments before and already had his answer.

  But before he could speak, Dao Jun continued.

  "Yes, you are right. I shouldn’t be so prejudiced against others. It is wrong of me. I should give those bandits a chance to repent."

  The monk was slightly surprised. He had not even begun his explanation, yet the old man already seemed to understand.

  Just as he was about to commend Dao Jun’s wisdom, the old man continued,

  "You let them go because you believe they still have a chance to turn over a new leaf.

  But while they are on their path to redemption, every misfortune they inflict upon others will be your sin, Monk."

  The monk maintained his gentle smile. He had an answer for this as well.

  Dao Jun continued speaking, his tone unwavering.

  "You speak of kindness and compassion, but you fail to uphold them.

  You only preach according to your beliefs while turning a blind eye to the suffering of others.

  You sympathize with villains, yet you take the pain of the innocent for granted.

  Oh, Monk, your righteousness is incomplete. If you still do not understand what you claim to know… it is better that you do not preach at all."

  Dao Jun shook his head, pity in his eyes.