Not long after, Feifei came looking for them. Jing Hengbo had it return to notify the others that they would camp here and make up for the unfinished picnic from last time. Soon the main force arrived. As soon as the seven jesters came, they jumped into the marsh with “splash splash” sounds, catching several catfish. Qi Yi got carried away and had a piece of skin bitten off his finger by a catfish. He busily looked for Ying Bai to get some wine to wash the wound, but Ying Bai, who didn’t care about anything else, was most stingy with his wine and only gave him one drop. Qi Yi cursed loudly, declaring he would break off relations with Ying Bai. Jing Hengbo felt something seemed off.

Pei Shu, being competitive, insisted on competing with Ying Bai above the marsh, saying they’d see who got the least mud while picking the most vegetables. Ying Bai was busy drinking and too lazy to pay attention. Tian Qi was busy learning to cook with Zirui and Yong Xue and refused to participate. Finally, Yelu Qi expressed willingness to accompany the young commander for a walk, so the two left. After a while, Yelu Qi returned alone. Jing Hengbo asked: “Where’s Pei Shu?”

Yelu Qi answered: “The young commander got excited running around. I couldn’t keep up—maybe he went to play by himself?”

Jing Hengbo glanced at him, sympathizing with Pei Shu in her heart. Simple little Shu Shu, encountering this fox, could only be played with.

Dinner was handled by Zirui and Yong Xue, with Jing Hengbo personally directing. The menu consisted of Eight-Treasure Duck, water celery with shredded meat, reed shoot with dried tofu, catfish stewed with eggplant, ginger lotus root cakes, stir-fried lotus root slices, fried chicken wings, and old hen soup.

Except for the stir-fried lotus root and hen soup, the rest were dishes not found in the Great Wilderness. Items like dried tofu, chestnuts, and dried bamboo shoots were things Jing Hengbo had ordered Yi Qi to run hundreds of li down the mountain to town to buy. Afraid of missing the feast, Yi Qi flew back covering hundreds of li in one hour.

Jing Hengbo couldn’t cook, but having stayed with Little Cake for so long, she certainly knew how to eat and could still move her lips to give directions.

“Rub cooking wine and soy sauce evenly on the duck and marinate. Steam the glutinous rice. Cut the sausage, mushrooms, chestnuts, ginkgo nuts, winter bamboo shoots, dried tofu, and carrots into small dice and stir-fry in the pot, then mix with the glutinous rice to make eight-treasure stuffing. Pour the stuffing into the duck’s belly and sew it up with cotton thread.”

“Make a sauce with seasonings, then steam the duck, drizzling the sauce over the duck. That’s it—open the pot after one hour.”

“Water celery must be washed carefully first, otherwise it’s full of mud. Little Cake said one jin of water celery needs half a jin of water—you have to peel it open bit by bit to wash, then cut into thin strips, as thin as meat strips. Little Cake said too thick or too thin affects the aesthetic.”

“Don’t always braise or steam fish. Catfish has few bones, tender meat, and lots of mucus—try stewing it with eggplant. Little Cake once stewed a pot and we almost fought over it.”

“Cut dried tofu into thin long strips and stir-fry lightly with reed shoots, keeping it light with little oil. You people here actually don’t dare eat reed shoots—I’m really worried about your IQ. Such fragrant things—could they be poisonous? This stuff sells very expensive as wild food where we’re from. Reed shoots and fragrant dried tofu are a perfect match, but the dried tofu here isn’t chewy enough. Ah, I really miss Little Cake—the dried tofu she made was so fresh, fragrant, and bouncy…”

“Make the lotus root into lotus root cakes. Chop the meat into mince. Cut the lotus root into small dice, then cut some shrimp into dice. Mix the three with oil, salt, and sugar. Form into balls and pan-fry in oil over low heat until both sides are golden…”

“Fried chicken wings don’t require much skill. What, you don’t eat chicken wings here? KFC would go bankrupt here. If only we had cola—cola chicken wings is a famous dish essential for home, travel, and picnics…”

At the improvised simple table, Jing Hengbo, who rarely personally entered the kitchen, directed while frying chicken wings while chattering. Everyone crowded to one side, watching with great interest. Her Majesty the Queen could actually cook! Her Majesty’s cooking posture was really good! The snow-white wrists exposed from Her Majesty’s rolled-up sleeves were even better!

Jing Hengbo had Tian Qi guard the pot—without keeping a close watch, the dishes would definitely be stolen by those seven jesters before they reached the table.

“Dinner’s ready! Dinner’s ready!” The seven jesters competed to serve dishes, stealing bites while serving. Just as Jing Hengbo was about to sit down, she counted heads and found Pei Shu hadn’t returned yet.

“One less person means less competition for food!” the seven jesters said.

“He seemed to say earlier he wasn’t eating,” Yelu Qi said.

Ying Bai had already opened his wine flask, ready to drink and eat heartily. Tian Qi brandished a knife, heading straight for the Eight-Treasure Duck.

Jing Hengbo thought for a moment, then ran out to shout: “Pei Pei! Ying Bai is calling you home for dinner!”

As soon as she finished speaking, Pei Shu appeared beside her, beaming as he took her hand: “I knew you were thinking of me and would definitely call me!”

Jing Hengbo broke out in a sweat—this guy had come back early and was waiting on the side for someone to call him?

Was he kidding? Even now he still had expectations about this group of friends’ character?

If she’d known, she wouldn’t have called—let him starve to death waiting.

Pei Shu seemed to be in a very good mood, proudly escorting her in, kicking away everyone’s stools to give her the best seat.

But no one could sit still anymore—a fight had already broken out on the table. The Eight-Treasure Duck’s wings and legs disappeared in the blink of an eye into Yi Qi’s, Yelu Qi’s, and Pei Shu’s hands, then in another blink landed in Jing Hengbo’s rice bowl.

The remaining people began fighting for other parts with great coordination. Finally, Shan Wu used puppets to snatch most of the duck, Ying Bai’s hands moved like wind to grab the lotus root cakes, Yelu Qi used one hand to fight for duck legs for Jing Hengbo while the other moved away the plate of reed shoots with fragrant dried tofu, presenting it to his sister who sat steady as a mountain. Tian Qi was very interested in that plate of fried chicken wings. Zirui and Yong Xue, the two chefs who contributed the most, could only eat the plate of stir-fried lotus root. Jing Hengbo gave them the two duck legs Pei Shu had fought for her, earning Pei Shu’s angry glare.

Master-level dining was certainly spectacular. Although dishes flew across the table with tables shaking and chairs wobbling, not a single piece of food fell to the ground and was wasted. Sometimes while fighting, certain pieces of food would mysteriously end up in Jing Hengbo’s and Yelu Xunru’s bowls.

“Fragrant!” Tian Qi chewed chicken wings with great praise. “So chicken wings can be fried!”

“Delicious!” The seven jesters finished fighting over the catfish and began fighting over the eggplant.

Feifei collected all the bones, crunching them loudly. Er Gouzi managed to grab a few bites of eggplant and paced on the tree with folded wings, chanting: “Sitting alone in the secluded bamboo grove, playing the qin and whistling long—catfish stewed with eggplant, the taste is wonderful!”

Yi Qi lost the initiative because he fought for duck wings for Jing Hengbo, so he cleverly went to dig out the glutinous rice from the duck’s belly. But he couldn’t enjoy it alone for long—the eight-treasure rice soaked in duck fat gave off an enticing aroma, immediately triggering a new round of fighting.

The meal was exciting, lively, joyful, and boastful, but extremes always lead to reversals. Everyone eating happily forgot that they seemed to have left out one person.

So halfway through eating, there was a thunderous sound from overhead.

A whole basin of mud, along with dozens of lively catfish, fell from the sky, clattering down on everyone’s heads.

“There hasn’t been an exam today yet.” A sinister voice came from overhead.

“What the hell.” Jing Hengbo jumped up with a chicken wing in her mouth. This was bad—she forgot to call the old immortal! The old immortal must be very angry, and the consequences would be severe!

The old immortal had been avoiding Xunru recently and had no energy to torment her, so she’d had a few good days and gotten carried away.

“You haven’t done the first question on the test paper yet,” a hand suddenly appeared above her, grabbing her up. “Go take the exam now!”

“Help! I haven’t eaten enough—” Jing Hengbo struggled. “Help! Xunru, quickly tackle him!”

But Purple Micro Sage moved even faster, the ghostly purple shadow flashed and was already far away.

The seven jesters looked in that direction and cried out: “We’re done for! Prepare to collect the corpse—the old witch actually arranged Beast Pen Valley for her!”

“What does that mean?” Yelu Xunru immediately asked alertly.

“The valley in Seven Peaks Mountain with the most and fiercest beasts.”

“Silver Armor Beasts are among the weakest there.”

“I trained there! It’s fine! I got the best results!”

“Right, the best results—only broke one arm.”

The seven jesters wiped their greasy mouths, grinning as they watched the direction Jing Hengbo disappeared, full of pity.

Yelu Xunru kicked Yelu Qi: “What are you spacing out for? Go help her!”

“Cheating seems to result in point deductions…” Yelu Qi was somewhat troubled.

“Not if you’re not discovered.” Yelu Xunru snorted coldly. “I’ll go entangle the old immortal.”

Yelu Qi flashed and followed. Pei Shu also wanted to go, but Yelu Xunru stuck out her foot to trip him.

Pei Shu leaped to avoid it, turning back to glare angrily: “What are you doing!”

“Stopping you!” Yelu Xunru was righteous. “A young couple working together to overcome challenges—what are you butting in for?”

“What young couple?” Pei Shu spat. “If he can go, why can’t I? Move aside!”

“If you go, I’ll tell Purple Micro to deduct points for cheating. Tell me, won’t Jing Hengbo curse you to death?”

Pei Shu glared angrily, looking like he wanted to curse Yelu Xunru to death first.

“Young commander, stop wasting your schemes.” Yelu Xunru pointed at him, grinning: “You just want to marry Jing Hengbo, but I tell you this is wasted effort. Look, in terms of first come first served, my little Qi met Jing Hengbo first, you last. In terms of status and position, though you’re an impressive young commander, you’re yesterday’s news—now you can only be considered Bobo’s subordinate. How can you compare to my little Qi’s birth into a great clan and years of high status as state preceptor? Speaking of appearance and talent, hehe, I wonder if Bobo would like that gray mouse color on you? Finally, there’s the most important point,” she pointed at her nose, “in terms of likeable relatives, little Qi has me, and Bobo really likes me as a sister—you understand ‘love me, love my dog,’ right? What about you? What do you have to influence her? That group of subordinates who are the same gray mouse color as you?”

“Yelu Xunru, with your character you deserve not to live long—” The violent dragon roared, so angry he spoke without thinking.

Yelu Xunru looked completely indifferent: “Right, not living long. So I need to do some satisfying and pleasing things in these limited living days. For example, eliminating all my brother’s love rivals.”

“Whoosh.” Pei Shu’s fist wind split the air, heading straight for Yelu Xunru’s face. “What qualifications do you have to eliminate anyone? I’ll eliminate you first—”

The fierce fist wind created explosive sounds in the air. Yelu Xunru’s long hair swept back, even her eyebrows were forced together by this extremely rigid force.

But she still stood motionless, her lips even forming an expectant, triumphant smile.

Zirui and Yong Xue both cried out and rushed forward, but someone was faster. Several figures flashed, and Pei Shu and Yelu Xunru were separated.

Ying Bai’s wine flask was placed across Pei Shu’s arm as he sighed: “I know that by blocking this, someone will definitely blame me for meddling in the future, but considering we’re equally famous, I’ll still help you out.”

Tian Qi grabbed Yelu Xunru’s arm and stamped his foot at Pei Shu: “You hothead, falling for her trap again. Think about it—if you killed Yelu Xunru, or even just hurt her, Jing Hengbo would truly hate you for life.”

“She’s about to die anyway and deliberately wants to drag you down. As long as you hurt even one hair of this dying person, Jing Hengbo will forever see you as a villain.” Yi Qi whispered in Pei Shu’s ear: “The old immortal said the hardest thing in the world to deal with is women. Save yourself some trouble.”

Pei Shu wasn’t stupid, just hot-tempered and hard to control when angry. When several people pointed this out, he immediately understood, snorted coldly, didn’t even glance at Yelu Xunru, and flew away like a gust of wind.

If you can’t provoke, you can avoid.

Ying Bai took a sip of wine, looked at Yelu Xunru, and smiled: “Miss Yelu is quite scheming, but this wish to eliminate all your brother’s love rivals should be abandoned. Otherwise, I’m afraid until the day you close your eyes, this wish will remain unfulfilled.”

“Gong Yin, you mean?” Yelu Xunru was very direct. “I believe there’s no unconquerable fortress in this world. I believe there’s no one who will never be moved. I believe that as time passes and long separation continues, it will eventually thin out once-existing memories and feelings. I believe that no matter how deep the planted seeds or how beautiful the blooming flowers, without sunlight and rain nourishment, they will eventually wither.”

Ying Bai smiled even more meaningfully, raising his wine flask to Yelu Xunru.

“I believe so too,” he said.

…

The wind whistled overhead as Purple Micro Sage ran very fast. Jing Hengbo estimated they had already passed three mountain peaks.

She knew that in these Seven Peaks Mountains, the deeper you went, the more dangerous it became. Even the seven jesters rarely went to the seventh peak.

When passing the fourth peak, she took a long breath, waiting to be put down, but this guy didn’t stop.

At the fifth peak, she began struggling in Purple Micro Sage’s hands, afraid he was running so happily he forgot to put her down, hoping to remind him.

But the old immortal still swept past like a gust of wind. Jing Hengbo cursed his ancestors in her belly.

“Bang.” She was suddenly dropped without warning. If she hadn’t maintained constant vigilance, her butt would already be in eight pieces.

Looking up, she saw a mountain valley before her. Of course, it wasn’t a gloomy place like Tianhui Valley. This valley had green grass like carpet and flowers like brocade. In the distance were waterfalls and springs, with myriad mist rising in the sunlight, looking peaceful and beautiful.

Of course, she knew this was impossible.

“Sixth peak,” the old immortal stood in a tree, his clothes and a long scroll in his hand trailing down. He drew with a blunt brush: “Thin Orchid Valley. There are some small beasts inside. I’ll give you one day—go in and catch a few. Points awarded according to beast level.”

“Beast pen?” Jing Hengbo asked.

“Thin Orchid—the valley grows many very thin orchids. See, the name sounds like there’s no danger at all.” The old guy answered seriously.

Jing Hengbo looked at his noble, beautiful face and sighed.

When God made him, He must have accidentally spilled a lot of black ink in his heart.

“Silver Armor Beast, 1 point; Blue Scale Beast, 1 point; Sky Thorn, 1 point; Thorn Bird, 2 points…” Purple Micro Sage rattled off the list, from one point to five points, also pointing out the activity areas of the above beasts.

Jing Hengbo decided to honestly start with one-point beasts, but the problem was, if Silver Armor Beasts were only one-point beasts here, which of the others would be easy to handle?

Forget it, exams were always difficult. Her current score was only fifty-six points.

“One-point beasts are very easy to fight. Kill four and you’ll barely pass.” The old guy’s tone was very kind.

“Then I’ll go west to fight one-point Blue Scale Beasts…” she muttered, her figure flashing westward.

Purple Micro Sage chuckled and lay in the tree with his legs crossed, waiting.

Soon there was commotion from the west—sounds of fighting, roaring, birds taking flight, tree branches breaking. The old guy listened to those sounds, his eyes flickering.

In a trance, he seemed to remember many years ago when there was also a trial, of course much more dangerous than this one. The final trial to determine the sect’s next leader was naturally fraught with peril.

But later he learned that the most dangerous thing was the human heart.

In that trial, there was also a beautiful young woman—the youngest junior sister. All the senior brothers treated her with care and attention. Everyone who saw her couldn’t help but soften their hearts, quietly breathing the sweet air of her presence in emotions soft as smoke and clouds.

Secret love was the most beautiful thing in the world, and the nine heavens’ smoke and clouds seemed to float and sing with joy because of it.

But when too many people sing one song, there will always be false notes and key changes, ending miserably.

“Big fox fell ill, second fox looked, third fox bought medicine, fourth fox brewed, fifth fox died, sixth fox carried, seventh fox dug pit, eighth fox buried, ninth fox cried, tenth fox asked why do you cry? Ninth fox said fifth fox went away never to return…”

A nursery rhyme sung for half a lifetime, finally shattered by a passing woman.

Sealed past events and secrets were like scabs—when lifted, the blood was still unclotted.

Was he the fourth fox, or the fifth fox? Or the sixth fox?

All of them.

In that trial, the eldest senior brother was severely injured. Third senior brother found the bodhi flower, and he was responsible for brewing the medicine. After brewing it, a sword pierced his back.

Blood flowed coldly over his back. The scenery before his eyes seemed immersed in water waves, unstable and unclear, and those voices buzzed and hummed, indistinguishable as familiar or strange.

Vaguely someone laughed: “This silly boy can’t tell bodhi flowers from bodhi hearts. When the Bodhi Heart Method reaches the fifth level, it produces a bodhi heart.”

His fifth junior brother practiced precisely the Bodhi Heart Method.

Another voice laughed: “A bodhi heart with his bright moon blood—perfect. Congratulations… your divine skill will be complete.”

Someone else was also laughing: “They all say he has extraordinary talent and will surely surpass those pretentious ghosts over there… they’ve arranged his path well, to possess power and beauties… who in this world should be the supporting role…”

In a burst of cold laughter, someone came over and lifted him up. He didn’t know who it was.

He was carried into a deep pit that had been dug long ago. He felt earth, cold, falling down. Gradually it passed his neck, waves of darkness and suffocation.

Despair filled his heart. He just wanted to erase and forget this scene, his mind completely blank.

Suddenly he heard the sound of someone rushing over, vaguely with questioning, scolding, and blocking voices, then the sound of swords clashing, and then with a “thud,” something heavy fell by the pit.

Liquid dripped onto his face—fishy, hot, sticky. It was blood.

There was a lot of blood, dripping through the earth gaps, washing away the mud covering his face. He couldn’t move, his back pain felt like it would explode, and he could only breathe slowly.

He couldn’t open his eyes and didn’t know whose blood this was.

The corpse’s cold fingers fell on his face, seeming to probe his breathing even unto death.

Earth fell again, and this time no one stopped it.

But after only one shovelful, he heard several more screams. This time the crashing sounds were louder, with more blood flowing down.

That fishy blood flowed to his lips. He swallowed it—he needed to recover strength, he had to survive.

Human blood didn’t taste much different from beast blood. Sect texts said drinking human blood would turn one into a demon, but he would rather become a demon.

Compared to indulgent demons, human hearts were more fearsome.

But whose blood was this?

There were footsteps above the pit, someone walking, sounds of dragging corpses—seemingly more than one body.

Someone seemed to stand by the pit, looking down at him indifferently. He felt the intensity of that gaze, clearly knowing that in the next moment, a sword would pierce his chest to confirm his death.

At this moment, he could only accept it calmly.

But that sword didn’t strike down. In his drifting, hazy consciousness, he only felt that beside the person watching him, another person seemed to have appeared. There seemed to be an argument, then comfort, and then the footsteps moved away again.

In those departing footsteps, someone was singing softly, that fox song, over and over, cycling through the dark, deep forest.

This time it was truly quiet.

He fell into unconsciousness.

That night it rained heavily. Rainwater leaked down through vines and tree shade, flooding the earthen pit. He floated up from within the pit, struggling to lie in a mountain cave. After a high fever, when he woke again, he could barely remember what had happened before.

Only that song remained in his memory.

When he stumbled out of the mountain forest, he saw many corpses scattered along the way—eldest senior brother’s, second senior brother’s, third senior brother’s… all the disciples in the sect were dead.

He saw the youngest junior sister’s mangled corpse, her face unrecognizable. Tenth junior brother lay beside her, maintaining a protective posture even in death.

He saw sixth junior brother dead beside the pit where they had buried him, his hand reaching forward helplessly.

He saw that fifth junior brother’s heart had been gouged out.

He counted all the senior and junior brothers’ corpses along the way, finally seeing black smoke rising from the sect at the forest’s exit.

The sect had also been destroyed. He saw countless figures moving within the sect, quickly entering and exiting those secret forbidden areas. A group of people was about to come toward the forest.

He could only leave.

This departure lasted decades—drifting on rivers and seas, half a lifetime of wandering. His memories gradually faded. The sect, senior brothers, junior brothers, junior sister—all became pale as distant shadows, leaving only that fox song.

He sang that song year after year, not knowing why he sang it. That scene of total annihilation was like a mystery, all condensed in this song. He knew the answer was there, right there, but for so many years, he didn’t want to, didn’t wish to think about it.

Everyone was dead—what was the point of pursuing who the killer was anymore?

The second year, his sect’s old enemy, that distant and ethereally divine sect, selected a new sect leader. Soon after, the leader married. It was said to be a grand gathering, a great event among the Great Wilderness sects.

The third year, that sect leader went into seclusion, and sect affairs were handled by his wife.

All this news had nothing to do with him anymore—just some anecdotes from distant otherworldly immortal sects. He didn’t even have a sect anymore—why care about others’ love, hate, life, and death?

His title was Purple Micro. In the dense forest grew a flower, purple and delicate—it was the youngest junior sister’s favorite flower.

…

He squinted his eyes, laughing lazily.

How many years deep in dreams—not that he couldn’t wake, but that he didn’t want to wake, until Jing Hengbo, with an outsider’s eyes, frankly revealed the truth, forcing him to wake.

Death was never truly the end…

…

Suddenly a howl from the valley shattered his memories. Looking up, he saw Jing Hengbo covered in blood, flashing into mid-air.

She waved a bloody beast leg, roaring at him with a fierce expression: “Old immortal! You’re scamming people! This Blue Scale Beast is clearly much more powerful than the Silver Armor Beast—how is it only one point!”

“Oh? Oh?” He looked down at the scroll, then suddenly slapped his forehead in realization: “Oops, I got it wrong! This should be two points—I put it in the wrong place!”

With a “splash,” Jing Hengbo fell down. Her indignant shouts still echoed in the valley: “You old scammer!”

Purple Micro Sage squinted and smiled.

This little girl was always vibrant and lively, bright as autumn sun—not glaring, but radiant.

She was completely different from junior sister. Junior sister was quiet and silent, her dark eyes holding deep, distant light. Everyone in the sect praised her, saying if sect rules didn’t forbid women from becoming sect leaders, she would be the most suitable choice.

He thought so too. Although the masters intended to pass the sect to him, repeatedly saying he would surely make the sect flourish and surpass their opponents, he felt he was merely the most gifted at martial arts. The comprehensive abilities needed to be a sect leader might not match junior sister’s calm wisdom and stunning talent.

But the rules of otherworldly sects were always insurmountable barriers.

…

A figure flashed, and Jing Hengbo appeared before him in a wretched state, throwing down a Blue Scale Beast’s head with a “smack.”

“Add two points.” Purple Micro Sage immediately recorded it. “How about another one?”

His tone was like a restaurant chef recommending another hairy crab.

Jing Hengbo lay sprawled on her back, busy recovering strength, no longer having energy to curse the old immortal’s scheming.

She keenly noticed that the old immortal’s mood seemed a bit off today—more serious than usual.

Although still quite improper, this was actually considered very proper for him.

Would someone like the old immortal also have troubles?

She looked up. Above her head, purple robes fluttered, strand by strand, gentle and graceful. That face seemed to glow in the sunlight, clear and noble as jade.

But she felt his expression was sorrowful.

A corner of his robe drifted to her face. She reached out to catch it and looked. The old immortal was quite perverted as a person, but his clothes were always beautiful. The style of his garments couldn’t really be called women’s robes—just that the colors were rather feminine, and they were particularly wide and flowing. Combined with his face, they became feminine attire.

Strictly speaking, these clothes had no particular style. They didn’t seem like clothes the old immortal would like to wear.

A flash of inspiration struck her mind, and she blurted out: “Hey, the style and color of this robe—it wouldn’t be what the ninth fox liked to wear, would it?”

“Whoosh.” The clothing disappeared from her hand. The next instant, Purple Micro Sage said: “I think you’ve rested enough. Let’s change the rules—I’ll give you another half day. You must pass, or I’ll deduct twenty points.”

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t be so touchy! I was thinking of helping you find the truth…”

With a “whoosh,” Jing Hengbo was kicked away.

Purple Micro Sage’s voice drifted leisurely, tinged with the vicissitudes of years.

“Who asked you to meddle? Don’t you know that sometimes the truth is the cruelest thing?”

…

Jing Hengbo decided to fight another two-point Blue Scale Beast to reach sixty points.

She didn’t plan to challenge the other species in this valley. Just now, one two-point Blue Scale Beast had already put her in mortal danger. She didn’t want to lose an arm or leg. At least she’d fought Blue Scale Beasts before and had combat experience.

This type of beast was also invulnerable to weapons, but had sustained strength, violent temperament, and a tail as hard as golden armor. It was said that this beast’s tailbone could be used as a weapon—a ready-made bone whip that could withstand almost all sharp weapons in the world.

The western areas were all Blue Scale Beast territory. All beasts in this valley had their own territories and minded their own business, never easily entering other beasts’ domains.

There were only two exceptions: particularly weak beasts seeking protection, and particularly powerful beasts ignoring the rules.

As Jing Hengbo walked in the western area, after just a few steps, she suddenly stumbled. Looking down, she saw a rabbit.

Looking more carefully, it wasn’t quite a rabbit—it was a gray, fluffy rabbit-like creature with small round eyes that rolled as it stared at her. Its paws were rounded, very soft and cute.

Jing Hengbo had always loved these fluffy little beasts. Seeing this little beast appeared completely harmless, she still carefully stepped back and shouted upward: “Hey, old immortal! What kind of beast is this?”

Purple Micro Sage’s casual answer came from above: “Phantom Rabbit. The smartest beast in Seven Peaks Mountain. Normally doesn’t attack people—even benefits them. It will give you a test, and if you pass, you might gain some enlightenment if you’re lucky. Hehe, meeting it is already pretty lucky.”

“How many points!” Jing Hengbo only cared about this.

“One point!”

One point wasn’t bad, and there was no danger. Jing Hengbo crouched down confidently, staring at the little thing.

The little thing looked quite serious, completely unlike Feifei’s deliberate cuteness. Its dark little eyes stared at her, then suddenly scattered a handful of pine nuts.

The valley was very windy, and the pine nuts spun chaotically, but never left a certain range. It seemed this Phantom Rabbit had its own aura field that could control heaven and earth.

If Purple Micro Sage were watching now, he would probably understand some things, but the old man was currently closing his eyes, thinking about very distant matters.

Jing Hengbo watched it with puzzlement.

The little thing quickly circled among the pine nuts, waved its paw, and had several pine nuts in its hand. It opened its palm to show Jing Hengbo.

Jing Hengbo looked carefully. Pine nuts were still pine nuts—they hadn’t turned into chestnuts.

The Phantom Rabbit shook its head, seemingly dissatisfied with her comprehension, and pointed at the pine nuts on the ground.

Jing Hengbo looked at the ground pine nuts, then at those in its palm, and suddenly understood.

The pine nuts in its palm were all relatively small.

Looking more carefully, all the smaller pine nuts had fallen into the Phantom Rabbit’s paws. The larger ones remained on the ground.

Jing Hengbo gasped.

This was so incredibly advanced.

Among moving pine nuts, finding all the smaller ones in a blink—what eyesight and speed did this require?

All cultivators knew that achieving this required a very calm heart. This was similar to a mental technique the seven jesters had taught her a few days ago, requiring opening the body, accepting heaven and earth’s qi, calming the mind, discerning carefully, and maintaining mental clarity.

She hadn’t grasped the essence yet, didn’t know how to begin or how to achieve mental calm and careful discernment. But watching the Phantom Rabbit’s movements now, she seemed to have some understanding.

The Phantom Rabbit seemed very patient, repeating the action for her to see. As Jing Hengbo watched, she suddenly discovered this Phantom Rabbit’s movement technique was also wondrous—appearing to go left but actually going right, full of various deceptive feints. It seemed it could combine with her teleportation to create an illusion effect.

After watching several times, the Phantom Rabbit finally stopped and raised its paw toward her.

Clearly wanting her to do it once—quite the master’s demeanor.

Jing Hengbo chuckled and said: “Pine nuts are too small—let’s change.” She grabbed a handful of pebbles and scattered them around herself with a “whoosh.”

The pebbles immediately began floating and jumping, like the pine nuts before, but pebbles were countless times heavier than pine nuts, making this floating and jumping seem rather eerie.

Jing Hengbo was also somewhat surprised, feeling this rabbit wasn’t as weak as Purple Micro Sage had described. But the rabbit had shown only goodwill so far, so she didn’t think much of it.

The pebbles were gradually swept up by wind, swirling and howling around her, forming a floating whirlpool. Jing Hengbo stared intently at the pebble whirlpool, calmed her mind, took a deep breath, and suddenly plunged into the whirlpool.

The Phantom Rabbit was stunned, looking up at her. Then its eyes took on an enchanted color—Jing Hengbo’s figure flashed like lightning, creating countless phantoms within a small area. It watched dizzily, completely unable to tell what Jing Hengbo was doing.

After an unknown amount of time, Jing Hengbo flashed out, the whirlpool simultaneously stopped, and pebbles clattered down.

Jing Hengbo opened her palm, which also held pebbles—very fine ones, almost like sand.

Clearly those in her palm were small, those on the ground were large.

The Phantom Rabbit’s little eyes showed satisfaction.

Jing Hengbo exhaled a long breath, feeling slightly ashamed—she hadn’t truly learned that rapid discernment skill. She had actually cheated.

She used her teleportation within the small whirlpool, moving back and forth, confusing the Phantom Rabbit’s vision. While it wasn’t paying attention, she moved fine sand and stone from beneath a nearby pine tree’s roots, grasping it in her hand.

Fine sand was definitely smaller than all stones, so to the Phantom Rabbit, she had captured all the small stones.

But Jing Hengbo was in good spirits. Although she couldn’t achieve the Phantom Rabbit’s technique, she had learned its peculiar footwork. In future battles, she was confident she could confuse all enemies.

The Phantom Rabbit’s rapid object discrimination also made her understand how to begin practicing the mental technique the seven jesters had taught her. Once she mastered this skill like the Phantom Rabbit—quickly extracting the desired portion—it would mean entry into that mental technique.

The harvest was truly substantial.

“Thanks!” Jing Hengbo crouched down, gratefully patting the little thing’s head, preparing to leave. But the little thing wouldn’t let her.

It even bared its teeth at Jing Hengbo—two huge fangs inappropriate for its body flashed coldly in the sunlight.

Jing Hengbo was stunned. What was this about?

“Ah! This is the Rabbit King!” Purple Micro Sage’s voice suddenly came from above, cackling: “Wrong, wrong! This is the Rabbit King. After it teaches you something, you must do something for it in return, or you’ll face attacks from the phantom rabbit pack. Score change, score change—now changed to two points!”

“I’ll be killed by you sooner or later!” Jing Hengbo cursed loudly.

Purple Micro Sage’s laughter showed no remorse at all: “The Phantom Rabbit King’s illusion ability is even stronger than your little monster’s. No wonder it stopped you—it can be attracted by people’s intense emotional fluctuations. If someone has lingering troubles in their heart, it easily discovers and exploits them. This little thing also enjoys the feeling of seeing through people’s hearts. If you pass, you’ll likewise gain great fortune. If you can’t pass, you might be left with heart demons forever… Hehe, good luck!”

His voice suddenly changed, exclaiming: “Hey, don’t come over here!”

Yelu Xunru’s laughter was always so cheerful: “Purple Micro, Purple Micro, come out and let’s have a heart-to-heart!”

A figure flashed with familiar presence. Indeed, wherever Yelu Xunru went, Yelu Qi followed.

But Jing Hengbo could no longer greet him—the Phantom Rabbit suddenly let out a strange, piercing shriek with an eerie sound.

“Ah! Sorry, wrong again!” Purple Micro Sage’s voice suddenly exploded: “I just realized this is a Phantom Rabbit with heart-controlling, demon-inducing abilities! It’s the beast most capable of luring out people’s inner pain and darkness to deadly effect! It ranks in the top three among Seven Peaks Mountain’s evil beasts! Score change, score change—now changed to five points! Five points!”

Unfortunately, Jing Hengbo could no longer settle accounts with the old schemer. When the shriek sounded, her heart churned uncomfortably, and then the scene before her changed.

Towering palace towers, falling snow—she stood on the Jade Reflection Palace walls, looking down at the square below where vast crowds of people looked up with open mouths. She couldn’t hear sounds but could see those angry faces.

Someone stood beside her. She knew who it was but didn’t want to turn and look.

The sound waves gradually rolled in, and she heard clearly.

“State Preceptor, please execute the Queen!”

She stepped back, supporting herself against the palace wall, gazing down at the city below. Her heart knew what the next words would be, but she couldn’t ask.

Couldn’t ask.

Once asked, it would be a tragic ending.

She wouldn’t!

But now her heart beat faster and faster, blood surging, impacting the qi sea within her body. She knew this question had to be asked, or she would suffer qi deviation.

To ask, or not to ask?