Looking back at Yin Changli, the Flower of the Netherworld that had been extinguished in his palm once again flashed with crimson light.

Han Qi let out another “Oh!” and said, “Brother Changli, how many years has it been since you were in such a pathetic state as you are now?”

Before this combative rooster Han Qi, Yin Changli would never show weakness. His expression returned to normal almost instantly as he smiled faintly. “Brother Han Qi, which eye of yours saw me in any pathetic state?”

“My eyes couldn’t see it, but my ears told me,” Han Qi pointed to his ears. “Miss Xiang humiliated you so thoroughly, yet you didn’t utter a single word in defense. Instead, you hurried to escape. I can already imagine how pathetic you must have looked when you first awoke.”

How satisfying, thought Han Qi as his long eyebrows arched upward in pleasure.

Yin Changli was notoriously black-hearted and venomous with his words. In the beginning, it was his foul mouth that had infuriated Han Qi.

Even when surrounded by tens of thousands of celestial soldiers, at the end of his rope and gravely injured, he could still smile like a spring breeze while first throwing out a few mocking words.

Now he was silent.

The Flower of the Netherworld spun before him, forming an arched doorway. Yin Changli ignored Han Qi and prepared to step through.

Han Qi stroked his chin, muttering to himself, “Why is this? Do you feel that an ordinary human girl like Miss Xiang has sullied the dignity of your noble Mountain and Sea lineage?”

“Or perhaps upon first awakening, you discovered yourself to be a plaything of fate, and in your deep sense of frustration, you became angry from embarrassment?”

“Or could it be that after all these years of weathering storms, you still cannot accept the filth within your heart? You refuse to be honest with anyone, as it would leave you like a hedgehog stripped of its quills, a turtle without its shell. You fear…”

“Brother Han Qi,” Yin Changli turned his head to glance at him, the smile at the corner of his lips suddenly blooming. “This time, you’ve lost.”

Han Qi shook his head. “Not yet. As long as you haven’t killed the Di Jun, I haven’t lost.”

Yin Changli reached out to touch the petals of the Netherworld Flower. “That’s not what I’m referring to.”

Han Qi: “Oh?”

Yin Changli: “I experienced the realm of ‘Desire’ before you did, and I’m striving to overcome it. Yet you, an ignorant outsider standing beyond the gate, presume to understand me, one who stands within. You speak with such audacity. Tell me, aren’t you ridiculous?”

After speaking, he raised an eyebrow at Han Qi and walked through the doorway of Netherworld Flowers.

After his figure disappeared, the Netherworld Flowers withered, turning into a pile of ashes that drifted down in fluttering waves.

…

On the opposite side of the Netherworld Flower doorway was a gap in the Underworld.

The Underworld had many such gaps, and this particular one was closest to the Land of Nine Sufferings.

At this moment, two guards stood by the gap.

“Who goes there!” One of the guards, who had been dozing off, suddenly sensed a disturbance near the gap.

Before his eyes could fully open, a white shadow passed grandly between him and the other guard.

Walking away like a specter.

“Halt!”

The guard moved to pursue but was stopped by his companion. “Don’t make a fuss. Pretend you saw nothing.”

The guard froze in surprise. “Who just passed through?”

His companion replied, “In any case, listen to your brother. Don’t ask, don’t interfere. It’s not someone we can afford to provoke…”

The guard suddenly remembered: “I think it was the former deserter…”

At his age, he naturally had never seen Yin Changli in person, only his portrait.

“Should we report this?”

His companion extended three fingers and whispered, “Let me tell you, brother, half the high officials in the City of the Netherworld are his people. Even among the masters of the Twelve Palaces, several stand on his side. Before you, three others reported sightings and never returned. Do you want to be the fourth?”

The guard immediately fell silent.

Yin Changli headed straight for the Land of Nine Sufferings, killing anyone who blocked his path without even raising his head.

Sometimes, Han Qi truly understood him better than he understood himself.

The matter he had never been able to figure out was partly cleared away by Han Qi’s words, like fog being lifted from before his eyes.

Although he still couldn’t determine whether his pathetic state stemmed from the second reason or the third, he had realized one thing.

Xiang Haikui had borne the brunt of his misdirected anger.

This wasn’t included in the “clean slate” he had mentioned.

Should he go back and apologize to her?

She feared him so much, yet dared to return and tell Han Qi without saving face, asking Han Qi to deal with him. She must have been hurt by him.

Yin Changli pinched the bridge of his nose. It was truly headache-inducing.

…

Xiang Haikui hurried toward the Lu family residence, facing the rising sun.

She had just told off her boss—no, her former boss now—and Tian Kuang had gained a bit more wildness. Finally, she had extracted some more resources from him. The feeling was truly exhilarating.

Now she had enough wildness to transform into a horned dragon at least eight times. Her body was filled with power. Taking on heaven and earth was nothing to her now. She felt confident enough to go single-handedly to the Lu family and confront them directly!

Project Tianqing’s merits, the Upper Realm and Underworld, Jin Ling’s crisis—none of these were within her consideration.

She had only one goal: to bring Lu Xiqiao back.

She clenched her small fist, telling herself that everything would certainly be fine!

“Miss Xiang,” Han Qi called out from behind her.

Xiang Haikui stopped and turned around. Han Qi was alone, hurrying after her with a sword in hand. “What is it, Senior Han?”

Her former boss had awakened, so he had no more shows to watch and should be returning to the Upper Realm.

Han Qi walked up to her, pointing toward the road ahead. “Let’s talk as we walk.”

Xiang Haikui asked in confusion, “Senior, are you coming with me to the Lu family?”

Han Qi nodded. “Your senior martial brother’s physical vessel is of a rather low grade, but I should still be able to help.”

Xiang Haikui walked forward with him, about to ask why he wanted to help.

Han Qi spoke first: “Often, I don’t rely on the might of magical powers. Miss Xiang, I was born in a small world, to a mortal noble family. By the age of seven, I was already renowned for my poetry and prose. In my teens, I passed the three highest imperial examinations in succession, entered officialdom, led armies into battle, and served as both Imperial Advisor and Prime Minister.”

“Afterward, I knocked on the gates of the Dao, departed from the mortal world, brought glory to my sect, and even established my school. Apart from my contests with Brother Changli, I have never known defeat in either civil or martial matters in this life.”

“In my era, the number of cultivators didn’t even reach a tenth of what exists now. Not to mention those who could transcend tribulation or merge with the Dao—even those who could cultivate to the ninth rank were as rare as phoenix feathers or unicorn horns. I was the first in my world to transcend tribulation and merge with the Dao. Three parts of the classical texts in that world came from my hand, and to this day, the cultivators there revere me as the Ancestor of the Dao.”

Xiang Haikui listened to the great master narrate his life story without feeling the slightest bit impressed.

When you’re already an “Imperial Advisor” from the Upper Realm, of course, you can crush everything in the mortal world.

Han Qi smiled and said, “Miss Xiang, I’m not showing off. I just want you to have a general understanding of who I am.”

Xiang Haikui was puzzled: “And then?”

Han Qi said, “You just mentioned that I could compete with Brother Changli in dual cultivation. I deeply agree, and after thinking it over, the most suitable partner for this dual cultivation would be you. Only then would it be a fair competition.”

“Senior, that’s not funny.” Xiang Haikui stopped in her tracks, anger rising in her heart. She inwardly cursed, “Fuck your mothers, what do you take me for—a prostitute?”

She was about to unleash her verbal artillery when Han Qi spoke first: “Don’t be angry, Miss. I’m not here to seek pleasure, but to seek marriage.”

Tian Kuang suddenly leaped violently within her. The vulgar words stuck in Xiang Haikui’s throat, and her eyes slowly formed two question marks.

He smiled, “After resolving the matter of the small Divine Tree, would you be willing to marry me and return with me to the Star-Plucking Palace? Brother Changli promised to transform you completely within ten years, but I can elevate you to the heavens in a single step.”