Xiang Haikui waited outside for more than half an hour before Dao Chen emerged.

After listening to his lengthy explanation, Xiang Haikui understood: the little black snake needed to be hospitalized for treatment, at least three months, and even then, there was no guarantee it could be saved.

Xiang Haikui thanked Dao Chen again, then led her camel beast away.

She intended to bring the reckless Lu Xiqiao back to Yin Sha.

The Shen Yao wasn’t an urgent matter, and from what she’d seen in her dreams, even if it were released, its remaining cultivation would be minimal, with little capability left—nothing to worry about.

Halfway through the journey, using her wind-tracing technique, Xiang Haikui sensed spiritual energy fluctuations ahead—it was Bai Xingxian.

“Little Bai!” she called out loudly.

Soon after, Bai Xingxian rode over on a camel beast, anxiously examining her: “Little Sister Kui, have you met Master Dao Chen?”

“Just saw him.”

“That’s good.”

Bai Xingxian breathed a sigh of relief.

Xiang Haikui was puzzled: “What’s wrong?”

The sun’s heat was unbearable. Bai Xingxian took a sip of water first: “When you mentioned Dao Chen last night, I couldn’t recall at first. After sleeping on it, I remembered—he’s a bad person. I was a bit worried about you, so I followed up to check on you.”

Xiang Haikui: “A bad person?”

Bai Xingxian pointed at the sword case on her back: “Dao Chen is like us—a wielder of a divine sword. My uncle possessed three divine swords in total. The earliest one, the Tianren Jian, was given to him.”

“Years ago, my uncle used divination to wait for someone with the right fate, and found Dao Chen. Dao Chen wanted to become the strongest sword cultivator, but my uncle discovered his deep malice, addiction to killing, hands stained with resentment—a person destined for a short life, dying in the streets. Originally, he wasn’t going to bother with him…”

But since they were connected by fate, and not knowing where this fate originated, Yin Changli kept Dao Chen by his side with the promise of a sword, hoping to guide him.

However, even after a full hundred years, he couldn’t sway him in the slightest.

So Yin Changli gave him the Tianren Jian.

“Tianren is a sword of supreme goodness. Uncle hoped this sword could save him as a last resort.”

After hearing about how the Tianren Jian was cultivated, Xiang Haikui’s mouth twitched. No wonder Dao Chen so diligently treated illnesses and saved people.

It turned out it wasn’t from a compassionate heart at all, but because he was forced to.

Xiang Haikui: “If he’s cultivating the Tianren Jian, what are you worried about?”

Bai Xingxian shook his head: “What you don’t know is that my uncle visited him before and came back saying ‘he’s beyond saving.’ Uncle rarely judges someone like that, so Dao Chen must truly be dark-hearted and rotten to the core.”

Xiang Haikui rubbed her chin. Dao Chen had been in Yin Sha for several decades, saving countless lives, with an illustrious reputation—this couldn’t be faked.

But her boss couldn’t possibly misjudge someone. Anxious, she asked: “I left the little black snake with him. Should that be alright?”

If Dao Chen didn’t save the little black snake, it would die anyway.

Saving it would be virtuous.

“As long as you’re fine, why worry about that snake?” Since he couldn’t eat it anyway, Bai Xingxian had no interest in its fate.

“No, I have to go back and check.”

Xiang Haikui returned to the tribe, only to be told that Dao Chen had left immediately after she departed.

Her initial concern, based on mere intuition, now seemed justified—something was amiss: “Little Bai, you said these divine swords are connected like branches from the same root and can sense each other?”

“That’s right, as long as the distance isn’t too great.” Bai Xingxian pulled out two golden fangs. “I found you using the Tian Bao sword.”

Understanding Xiang Haikui’s meaning, he tossed the Tian Bao twin swords into the air: “Go!”

Dao Chen stood on a dune, one hand holding the jar with the little black snake, the other holding a formation disk.

“Yin Changli, did you think that by giving me a virtuous sword incapable of killing, I would be helpless?”

Dao Chen sneered as he threw out the formation disk.

In an instant, a brilliant light appeared.

Dao Chen was precisely the formation master hired by the Lu family from the capital that Lu Xiqiao had mentioned.

He had practiced medicine in the northern desert for decades, solely to find Shen Yao’s sealing location.

The search was extremely difficult because the “Flowing Sand Formation” imprisoning the Shen Yao was an ancient type with no fixed location, constantly moving across the vast desert.

“Yin Changli, do you know why I saved you instead of letting you die? You’re a great demon—how could I bear to let you perish?”

“Soon, I’ll extract your soul to enhance the formation disk’s spiritual power, drawing in the Flowing Sand Formation. Then I’ll let the Shen Yao devour you, which will restore its former glory, perhaps even elevating it further.”

By then, the entire Central Plains border would be slaughtered by it, becoming a living hell.

After the Shen Yao accumulated enough negative karma, he would strike with the Tianren Jian to slay it—wouldn’t that instantly fulfill his virtuous merit?

This method of creating disasters and then resolving them was something he had tried many times before.

This was how he cultivated; otherwise, how many years would it take to save enough people at random?

“Once I achieve Dao unity and break free from this sword, I will still be the strongest under heaven, hahaha…”

Imagining the spectacular scene of thousands of miles of yellow sand along the border dyed red with blood, Dao Chen laughed maniacally before immediately casting a soul-extracting spell.

The little black snake in the jar writhed but couldn’t resist. A black mist was drawn from its body, landing at Dao Chen’s fingertips.

Dao Chen tried to push this black mist into the formation disk, but the mist strongly resisted.

“Let’s see how long you can hold out!”

As Dao Chen struggled with the black mist, he suddenly heard the footsteps of a camel beast.

Someone was coming.

Dao Chen had no choice but to wave his sleeve, temporarily storing the black mist within it.

When Xiang Haikui caught up, she saw a formation activated before Dao Chen, with the jar containing the little black snake thrown at his feet. Her brows immediately furrowed: “Master Dao Chen, what are you doing?”

As Dao Chen was thinking of an excuse, Lu Xiqiao, who had just awakened on the camel’s back, exclaimed: “So the formation master my family hired was you!”

Despite Little Bai’s warning that Dao Chen wasn’t a good person, Xiang Haikui was still shocked. She turned to ask Lu Xiqiao, who rode with her: “Are you sure?”

Lu Xiqiao guaranteed it: “Absolutely! I don’t know what formation he’s setting up, but the formation disk he’s using is my Lu family’s treasure. I once asked my father to lend it to me, and he wouldn’t even part with it!”

Dao Chen’s face darkened like the bottom of a pot: “You’re the Lu family’s young master?”

Lu Xiqiao pointed his thumb toward his nose: “Yes! Lu Zhengtú is my father, and I am the genuine second young master of the Lu family!”

Dao Chen questioned coldly: “Then whose side are you on?”

As the two argued, Bai Xingxian secretly explained to Xiang Haikui: “Dao Chen probably wants the Shen Yao to devour the snake demon, restore its cultivation, and enhance its destructive power.”

It seemed this snake demon was even more nourishing than he had imagined.

Bai Xingxian licked his lips again, pleading with Xiang Haikui: “Let’s snatch it back.”

The sword case opened, and Xiang Haikui drew Tian Kuang, leaping from the camel beast: “So this is what hypocrisy looks like—I’ve certainly learned something today.”

“You are also…”

After Xiang Haikui drew her sword, the prayer beads on Dao Chen’s wrist instantly transformed into a bladeless silver longsword: “So you’re also a divine sword wielder.”