She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar

"You're absolutely brilliant!"

Hu Tuji.

This name originated from the dragon-phoenix wedding invitation of that recent underworld divorce.

Forty-five minutes earlier, Yan Luoyue had a sudden impulse to participate in this "Gathering of Talents Competition at the Assembly Hall."

With Elder Dong standing nearby, she couldn’t very well use her real identity. And if anyone looked too closely into the alias "Yan Bixin," it might easily be traced back to the turtle clan on the other side of Yunning Great Marsh.

So, Yan Luoyue made a snap decision and fabricated a new alias on the spot.

Stroking her chin thoughtfully, Yan Luoyue mused:

Since the persona of "Yan Bixin" was that of an ultra-competent yet overly cautious paranoiac,

Then this new alias should be characterized as a down-and-out social recluse with a knack for saying the wrong thing.

The "Hu Tuji" alias, from appearance to name, was randomly cobbled together. It was the kind of disposable account that Yan Luoyue could abandon the moment she got her hands on a map.

Ironically, Niu Qidao had called this gathering to recruit temporary subordinates, only to run into Yan Luoyue’s one-time-use persona.

Truly, this was a case of mutual pursuit and mutual fulfillment.

They were, indeed, fated.

Niu Qidao soon discovered that this somewhat talented craftsman, surnamed Hu, had one fatal flaw.

—He stuttered, was neurotic, timid as a mouse, and had a terrible way with words.

For example, when Niu Qidao praised Hu Tuji, saying, "With your skill in artifact refinement, it’s a shame you’ve been toiling in obscurity outside the main event."

Hu Tuji immediately replied with humility, "N-n-no, not a shame. My skills are... are worse than the Second Young Master’s."

Niu Shujian: "?"

Niu Qidao: "..."

As if realizing his blunder, Hu Tuji hastily tried to correct himself, "D-d-don’t misunderstand, I mean, I’m not much better than the Second Young Master."

Niu Shujian: "??"

Niu Qidao: "..."

For a brief moment, Niu Qidao was sorely tempted to tell him: If you don’t want that mouth, you could donate it to a deli to make spicy rabbit lips.

After a few more rounds of such exchanges, Niu Qidao finally had an epiphany.

No wonder someone of his refinement skills couldn’t even secure an invitation to the Hundred Refinements Assembly.

It wasn’t a problem with his craftsmanship—it was that he had absolutely no people skills!

By the time they were halfway through their tea, Niu Qidao cut straight to the point.

With a carefully neutral tone, he said, "You are a man of great talent, and I admire that. But you wear a veil, and there’s something oddly familiar about you. I wonder if we’ve met before."

Setting down his teacup, Niu Qidao gestured gracefully toward Hu Tuji.

"Would you kindly remove your veil and let us see your true face?"

"T-this..."

Hu Tuji’s already slight frame trembled violently, his voice thick with hesitation.

Niu Qidao feigned offense, his expression darkening. "I’ve been nothing but sincere in recruiting you, yet you refuse to show your face? Are you mocking me?"

Hu Tuji shivered like a leaf in the wind, his stuttering, fragmented words now tinged with a sob.

"I-I-I’m timid as a rabbit..."

At this description, Niu Shujian stiffened uncomfortably in his seat.

Hu Tuji seemed oblivious. "...How would I dare deceive the Eldest Young Master? It’s just that my face is hideously deformed—unsightly for others to see."

"Are cultivators so shallow?" Niu Qidao scoffed. "Unless you’ve got white hair and red eyes, no appearance is too strange to behold."

Even rabbit demons, when taking human form, had black hair—just like how the bald-headed cranes of the scribe clans still boasted thick, dark manes.

Ji Qinghong’s white hair was due to other reasons.

So unless Hu Tuji was some old acquaintance from the tense inner court, there was no reason to refuse removing his hat.

"Very well, since the Eldest Young Master insists... I-I have no choice but to comply."

With a loud sniffle, Hu Tuji finally lifted his veil.

As the specially treated gauze curtain rolled upward, Niu Qidao narrowed his eyes in scrutiny.

Niu Shujian, meanwhile, leaned forward eagerly.

The next instant, Hu Tuji revealed his true face.

The moment they saw it, Niu Qidao was struck speechless by the sheer horror, while Niu Shujian let out a shriek and toppled backward in his chair.

"Ugh, that’s hideous!" Niu Shujian cried in revulsion.

Niu Qidao: "..."

Hu Tuji: "..."

In the blink of an eye, Hu Tuji yanked the veil back down.

To be fair, Niu Qidao completely understood his brother’s reaction.

Because Niu Shujian had just vocalized his own thoughts.

After all, while this craftsman didn’t have white hair and red eyes, he looked nothing like a human.

Even in that fleeting glimpse, Niu Qidao could still recall: Hu Tuji’s eyes were grotesquely misplaced—one on his forehead, the other near his temple, like a flounder stretched into three dimensions.

His nose sprawled diagonally across most of his face, while his mouth had lips that curled inward.

The man’s face looked as though he’d been smacked at birth with a gold brick.

In reality, Yan Luoyue had simply eaten a Face-Shifting Fruit.

It was a novelty she’d bought years ago at the Moonlight Market with Yan Gan and Sang Ji—a fruit that allowed the eater to rearrange their facial features at will.

This oddity was a specialty of the sea clans. Due to its bizarre effects and rarity, it was usually consumed locally and rarely made its way beyond Yunning Great Marsh.

Had Niu Qidao looked closer, he might have noticed that Hu Tuji’s features were delicately feminine.

Arranged normally, they might even have struck him as familiar.

But who could focus on such details when confronted with such a monstrous visage?

—When someone looked like that, did their gender even matter?

Humiliated, Hu Tuji shot to his feet. Shedding his earlier timidity, he snapped,

"My apologies for offending the Second Young Master’s eyes!"

Just as a villain who commits a hundred crimes can redeem himself with one good deed,

A meek person who suddenly shows spine tends to earn respect.

Seeing Hu Tuji’s outburst, Niu Qidao finally regarded him in a new light.

He soothed, "Please, sit. You misunderstand—my brother has always revered talent."

Ugliness was a good thing.

A cultivator who’d been scorned all his life for his looks would be so moved by the slightest kindness, he’d gladly lay down his life for them.

Still fuming, Hu Tuji’s stutter somehow softened the edge of his anger.

"I-I-I’ve never seen such reverence before."

"Now, now, Master Hu, calm yourself."

Niu Qidao laughed heartily and clapped his hands.

In no time at all, a servant approached with a tray bearing a dazzlingly ornate command arrow. Instantly, even through the gauzy curtain, everyone present could sense Hu Tuji’s gaze sharpen with intensity.

“Could this be… the legendary item issued at the Thousand Refinements Assembly…?”

Niu Qidao gave a reserved nod.

“Th-this… it’s too valuable. I can’t accept it.”

Niu Qidao waved a hand dismissively, his tone laced with implication:

“For people of our standing, a mere command arrow is hardly worth mentioning. We’ve had such a pleasant conversation today—please consider this a modest token of appreciation.”

“……”

By market value alone, a single command arrow had already been bid up to twenty thousand low-grade spirit stones on the black market. Calling it a “modest token” was a stretch.

Truly, the spoiled young masters of wealthy families had money to burn.

Earlier, when Yan Luoyue first saw the sign for “Gathering of Sages Pavilion,” she had inwardly scoffed, wondering how these two arrogant brothers could possibly understand what it meant to gather sages.

Now, Yan Luoyue had to admit: Yes, the Niu brothers knew exactly how to gather sages—because they gave away so much!

Mentally tallying up the spoils she had gleaned from the Niu brothers since their first meeting—the flying boat, the Soul-Extinguishing Flame, the map fragments, and now this command arrow—Yan Luoyue concluded that calling their generosity “giving charcoal in snowy weather” would be an understatement.

After all, people only gave charcoal to their closest friends and family. Yet the Niu brothers lavished their wealth upon their enemies.

What kind of mentality was this?

It was the mentality of digging their own graves with reckless abandon!

The next moment, Hu Tuji smoothly returned to his seat and eagerly snatched up the command arrow.

Beaming, he fawned, “Because of my appearance, I’ve always been looked down upon. Young Master Niu is the first to treat me with such respect.”

A self-satisfied smile gradually spread across Niu Qidao’s face. “You flatter me.”

“No, no, I mean every word.” Hu Tuji’s eyes reddened with emotion. “Meeting you two young masters is like a fish finding water, a bird escaping its cage, a meat bun meeting a dog—I finally feel the value of being respected in life!”

Niu Qidao: “…”

His smile froze mid-spread.

He dearly wanted to tell this “Master Hu” that if he couldn’t speak properly, he should just keep his mouth shut—especially when it came to ill-conceived analogies.

Having accepted such a lavish gift from the Niu brothers, it was only right that Hu Tuji prove his loyalty by carrying out a task for them.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Niu Qidao gestured toward his younger brother.

“I have matters to attend to. Shujian, you stay and chat with Master Hu.”

This was code for assigning Niu Shujian the task of testing Hu Tuji’s allegiance.

Earlier, Niu Shujian had offended Hu Tuji with his behavior, but they had already made amends with the command arrow.

Now, if Niu Shujian assigned Hu Tuji a simple task to prove his loyalty, their relationship would grow even stronger.

As he left the room, Niu Qidao felt a swell of pride.

This outing had been a success: not only had he recruited a talented subordinate whose skills rivaled those of the palace disciples—and who was easy to control—but he had also set an example for his younger brother on how to take responsibility.

Stepping onto the balcony, a biting winter wind struck his face. Yet Niu Qidao reveled in the moment, thinking to himself: Today, I truly feel like a triumphant rider galloping on the spring breeze.

Little did he know what kind of task his brother would assign to Hu Tuji.

Inside the chamber, after careful deliberation, Niu Shujian posed a question to Hu Tuji.

“There’s a little demon girl named Yan Luoyue in the Thousand Refinements Pavilion. If I told you to teach her a lesson, would you dare?”

Hu Tuji: “…”

Stunned into silence, Hu Tuji could only gape at him.

Niu Shujian snorted, deliberately provoking him. “You’re scared?”

“N-no, not at all,” Hu Tuji stammered. “I just don’t understand why you’d give me such a task… What I mean is, you’re truly a genius.”

Niu Shujian preened, tilting his head back so his nostrils faced the ceiling. “Obviously.”

……

After leaving the Gathering of Sages Pavilion, Yan Luoyue took four or five detours through the streets.

Only after confirming she wasn’t being followed did she duck into an alley to change her disguise before hurrying back to the inn.

The moment she entered, Yan Luoyue pulled the newly acquired map fragment from her storage pouch.

She didn’t even bother removing her cloak before eagerly aligning the new piece with the previous two.

Her judgment proved correct—the moment the new fragment came within an inch of the others, a powerful magnetic force pulled them together.

As soon as she let go, the three fragments fused seamlessly.

Simultaneously, chaotic lines once again swirled across the map’s surface, the image shifting and rearranging until the original paths were completely overwritten, forming an entirely new diagram.

Unlike the last time, when she had been caught off guard and could only watch as the fragments merged, this time Yan Luoyue observed every minute change with rapt attention.

After piecing together the fragments twice, she had begun to discern a pattern.

Tracing the map’s edges with her finger, she felt about seventy to eighty percent certain: only one last fragment was needed to complete the entire image.

Once that was in hand, the secret of this secret realm map would be fully revealed.

Moreover, this observation had sparked another revelation.

She had been racking her brain over the riddle Ji Qinghong had left her.

Now, inspired by the map’s transformations, her thoughts flowed like a thawing stream, ideas bubbling forth in rapid succession.

Eyes lighting up, Yan Luoyue grabbed an inverted brush from the stand and began jotting down fragmented insights on a sheet of paper.

So that’s how it works—this refining technique is used here…

Perfect. Now she knew how to crack the first step of Ji Qinghong’s invitation.

……

A few days later, the main selection for the Thousand Refinements Pavilion officially commenced.

The event had no entry barriers—any refiner who held an invitation and had crossed into the Thousand Refinements Pavilion could register.

Naturally, Yan Luoyue signed up.

After consulting Ling Shuanghun and Wu Manshuang, she added their names to the registration form as well.

Ling Shuanghun’s reasoning for joining was purely professional:

“Participating firsthand will lend more immersive depth to my records. As a historian, I should experience all facets of life.”

In contrast, Wu Manshuang’s motivation was decidedly frugal.

Pointing to a line of fine print at the bottom of the form, he said, “All participants receive a consolation prize… I think I’ll give it a try.”

Today, Xiao Wu was a thrifty little green snake determined to build his fortune from scratch!

The first round of the competition was a written exam.

The disciples of the four major factions had long passed their internal examinations and obtained the tokens granting access to the secret realm, exempting them from participating in this publicly held grand competition.

Thus, most of the candidates present were of slightly lesser backgrounds and carried themselves with noticeable restraint.

The examination halls were assigned based on the rank of one’s Artificer Badge.

As individuals without badges, Ling Shuanghun and Wu Manshuang were classified as apprentice artificers and assigned to the very last examination hall.

As for Yan Luoyue, she wasn’t grouped with her two friends—her assigned hall was much higher in rank.

Every now and then, furtive glances were cast her way. Among the candidates in the hall, some had long white beards, while others were young and beautiful.

But Yan Luoyue, petite with a hint of baby fat still lingering on her cheeks, was undoubtedly the youngest examinee present.

A few candidates clearly knew each other.

They swept their eyes over Yan Luoyue, then exchanged silent, amused glances.

—Truly, each generation brings forth its own talents, and the new wave pushes the old.

—The younger generation is formidable indeed!

Resting her chin on one hand, Yan Luoyue silently calculated in her mind.

She planned to bring Ling Shuanghun and Wu Manshuang into the secret realm with her, which meant they would need three tokens in total.

At present, Yan Luoyue already had two tokens—one from Ji Qinghong and another from Niu Qidao.

As long as she passed this grand competition and obtained one more token, the trio could venture in together.

Come to think of it, it wasn’t surprising that Ji Qinghong had extra tokens. Given his status, it was only natural that he could produce anything.

But how could someone like Niu Qidao, a disciple of the Hongtong Palace, so casually hand over a token as if it were nothing?

Tapping her fingers lightly against her temple, Yan Luoyue suddenly recalled a rumor she had heard earlier.

—It was said that while the Thousand Refinements Assembly was ostensibly organized by Hongtong Palace in collaboration with the four major factions, the true purpose was for Hongtong Palace to publicly claim a fragment of the Wuti Flame under everyone’s watchful eyes.

Thus, Hongtong Palace was determined to secure this flame fragment.

...In that case, distributing extra tokens to their disciples, allowing them to select promising talents and curry favor by gifting tokens—thereby diluting the proportion of disciples from the other three factions—was likely part of their strategy to secure the flame fragment.

Before Yan Luoyue could ponder further, the examination papers were handed out.

Instinctively, she lowered her head, not rushing to answer but first carefully examining the questions from front to back. Then, a faint trace of confusion flickered across her face.

The examination consisted of two sets of questions.

The first set focused on testing the theoretical foundations of artificers, listing various scenarios and materials, and requiring candidates to explain the appropriate refining methods for each combination.

These questions were entirely within Yan Luoyue’s expectations.

As for the second set, the content was more obscure and niche.

It tested… the reverse engineering and dismantling of already-refined artifacts, given knowledge of the materials used.

But in the cultivation world, reusing secondhand materials wasn’t common practice—this wasn’t like mortals knitting sweaters, where they might unravel yarn from an old sweater of the same color if they ran out of thread.

As long as they had enough spirit stones, artificers would always buy new materials. Who would go through the trouble of salvaging materials from discarded artifacts?

Yet, as she scrutinized the entire paper, a peculiar feeling rose in Yan Luoyue’s heart.

She suspected that this second set of questions might actually be the examiner’s true focus.

Moreover, the "confiscation challenge" Ji Qinghong had issued flashed through her mind.

...Come to think of it, why had Ji Qinghong’s test for her not been to refine an artifact, but to reverse-engineer an already-refined one?

And hadn’t Niu Shujian’s Gathering of Talents also included a specialized question on dismantling artifacts?

At this thought, Yan Luoyue’s gaze gradually deepened.

If she wasn’t mistaken, these questions must be closely tied to the secret realm.

Picking up her brush, Yan Luoyue began writing swiftly, answering the paper with ease.

As she filled the page with her responses, a playful thought crossed her mind: Could Ji Qinghong’s earlier actions be considered a subtle hint at the exam content?

...

Compared to Yan Luoyue’s calm and effortless demeanor, Ling Shuanghun and Wu Manshuang, seated in the very last examination hall, were in an entirely different state of mind.

Faced with this overwhelmingly specialized paper, their eyes had nearly turned into bewildered dots.

"..."

Ling Shuanghun was slightly better off.

His literary skills were strong, and he had a broad knowledge base. Relying on his rudimentary artificing knowledge and the ability to creatively patch together answers—honed since childhood—he managed to fill out most of the paper.

As for accuracy, however, he couldn’t guarantee anything.

Wu Manshuang, on the other hand, was far worse off.

The little serpent had only recently completed his literacy lessons, and now he was expected to handwrite answers to a paper filled with lofty, specialized terminology.

It was like dragging a primary school student who hadn’t even finished compulsory education straight into a university-level final exam—there was no way he could answer correctly.

Wu Manshuang sat stiffly in his seat, staring blankly at the densely packed questions for at least the time it took two sticks of incense to burn.

Then, taking a deep breath, he made a momentous decision.

—Wu Manshuang grabbed his brush and began earnestly copying the question prompts into the blank spaces on the paper.

At this moment, the souls of struggling students across millennia possessed him.

Never having experienced standardized testing before, the little serpent had somehow, instinctively, grasped the universal hope of every underperforming student:

If I fill the paper so thoroughly, how could the examiner possibly not give me some points?

Of course, examiners everywhere would respond to this mentality with a dry: Hah.

After diligently transcribing most of the paper, Wu Manshuang’s attention was suddenly caught by one particular question.

Despite having a young artificing prodigy like Yan Luoyue as a friend, Wu Manshuang’s foundational knowledge was so lacking that he barely understood any artificing principles.

The carefully crafted questions on the paper, along with the myriad materials mentioned in the prompts, were mostly incomprehensible to him.

But this one question… he could strangely make sense of.

Had Yan Luoyue been there, she would have realized the reason instantly.

Unlike the earlier short-answer and essay questions, this was a critical-thinking problem.

The main focus was on the interplay between formations and artificing, particularly in controlling the intensity of refining flames.

Since artificers might not be well-versed in formations, the question provided the names of relevant formations and key points necessary for answering.

What Wu Manshuang understood wasn’t the artificing techniques or materials—it was the content related to formations.

Unaware of this distinction, Wu Manshuang sketched a simplified diagram of the formation on the paper, then meticulously filled in the patterns based on the question’s constraints.

If a formation master had been present, they would have been astonished to discover that Wu Manshuang, a student with no foundational knowledge, had managed to complete eighty percent of the formation array purely through talent, intuition, and a handful of known conditions.

When time was up, the exam concluded.

The invigilator performed a spell, and all the papers automatically rose into the air, forming a river-like ribbon of sheets in midair. Like fluttering snowflakes, the answer sheets neatly landed on the long examination table.

Seizing this opportunity, Ling Shuanghun took extra care to glance at the others' papers.

He noticed that many of the artifact-refining apprentices, like himself, had left large sections blank, with numerous unanswered questions.

Amidst this sea of academically challenged peers, his and Wu Manshuang's papers blended in seamlessly, like a drop of water merging into the ocean.

Phew—that was a relief.

...Also, he hoped the examiners wouldn’t be too infuriated when they came across their papers.

Ling Shuanghun walked out of the examination hall side by side with Wu Manshuang to meet up with Yan Luoyue.

Along the way, they overheard plenty of post-exam chatter.

"Ah, I wasn’t confident about one question. Looks like I’ll be eliminated in the preliminary round."

The speaker wore a commemorative fourth-rank artifact-refining badge on his chest.

Meanwhile, another examinee pumped his fist the moment he stepped out. "I nailed it! Absolutely nailed it! This was the best I’ve ever performed in any exam!"

Wu Manshuang instantly recognized him as one of the artifact-refining apprentices who had been engaged in a battle of incompetence at the Ren Tian Hall earlier.

"......"

Baffled by this phenomenon, Wu Manshuang turned to Ling Shuanghun for enlightenment.

Ling Shuanghun smiled faintly, clasped his hands behind his back, exuding the air of a seasoned senior.

"Xiao Wu, behold—this is the unvarnished truth of the mortal world, as recorded in our unofficial histories. Isn’t it fascinating?"

......

With the first written exam over, Yan Luoyue finally had time to deal with the "pledge of allegiance" that Niu Shujian had assigned to Hu Tuji.

Truth be told, Yan Luoyue had originally intended to discard the "Hu Tuji" alias after a single use.

But... Niu Shujian was simply offering too much!

Rewinding to a few days earlier, in the private chamber of the Gathering Sages Pavilion, Hu Tuji stood up in apparent shock.

"Such... such an important task—how could you entrust it to me?"

Niu Shujian snorted mysteriously. "I have my reasons."

After learning from his elder brother, he had finally grasped the benefits of recruiting subordinates and operating from the shadows.

Take this Hu Tuji, for example. He knew nothing about Niu Shujian’s ties to the Hongtong Palace or Yan Luoyue’s connection to the Demon Venerable Ji Qinghong.

Ignorance bred fearlessness, so he wouldn’t hesitate or refuse the mission.

Even if he failed and was captured by that little turtle brat, the most he could reveal was their identities as "Eldest Young Master" and "Second Young Master"—nothing that could trace back to Niu Shujian himself.

Upon hearing Niu Shujian’s orders, Hu Tuji hesitated before mustering the courage to ask:

"Then... just how old is this girl, Yan Luoyue?"

"......"

Even with his thick skin, Niu Shujian couldn’t bring himself to say, "She’s five years old—easy pickings because she’s so young."

Slamming the table in irritation, Niu Shujian snapped coldly,

"I’ve already chosen the simplest task for you. Are you seriously scared of a little girl?"

"N-no, no, that’s not it." Hu Tuji flustered. "Second Young Master, you misunderstand. It’s just... this feels rather unethical, doesn’t it?"

Niu Shujian: "......"

Well, well. Now he saw it—Hu Tuji truly had no filter.

If the one carrying out the task was unethical, then what did that make the one assigning it?

Niu Shuangjian turned his head away dismissively. "Fine, if that’s how you feel, then don’t—"

Before he could finish, Hu Tuji added, "So... so... don’t you think we should increase the payment?"

Niu Shujian: "......"

The sheer, unfiltered audacity of the request nearly knocked Niu Shujian off his feet.

After a moment of silence, Niu Shujian leaned back, crossing one leg over the other with an air of indifference.

"I’m not some heartless brute who targets women and children. Just teach that little demon girl a lesson... Hmm, let me think—if you can make her cry and admit she’s wrong once, I’ll pay you a thousand low-grade spirit stones. Twice, two thousand. Three times, three thousand... and so on. How’s that? I’m treating you well, aren’t I?"

Hu Tuji gasped as if staggered by the sum.

"Second Young Master, r-really?!"

Tch. What a country bumpkin.

Niu Shujian scoffed inwardly before nodding arrogantly. "Of course."

Hu Tuji still seemed troubled. "But she’s inside the Thousand Refinements Assembly. I can’t get in."

With a flick of his wrist, Niu Shujian tossed a Hundred Refinements-level invitation onto the tray. "Take it."

Hu Tuji hesitated again. "I... I don’t even know where she is."

Niu Shujian grinned, proud of his foresight, and handed over a communication stone.

"I’ve already stationed someone inside to keep watch. Contact them, and they’ll tell you Yan Luoyue’s whereabouts."

Just as the deal seemed settled, the rabbit demon—who had seemed rather dim-witted moments ago—suddenly turned shrewd.

Hu Tuji blinked blankly. "Second Young Master, if you already have someone tailing Yan Luoyue... why do you need me to do it?"

Niu Shujian: "......"

—Because you have zero ties to Hongtong Palace, making you the perfect scapegoat if things go south!

Besides, Hu Tuji clearly lacked nerve. Even if he kidnapped Yan Luoyue, he wouldn’t go so far as to kill the brat and draw Demon Venerable Ji’s attention.

More importantly, Hu Tuji had one natural advantage that no one else could match!

Niu Shujian stood up slowly.

"Idiot. Must I spell it out? Private fights are forbidden in the Thousand Refinements Assembly. If you can’t lure Yan Luoyue out, just march up to her and remove your veil—"

"......"

For a moment, Hu Tuji gaped up at Niu Shujian, as if stunned by his sheer brilliance.

Unaware of Hu Tuji’s reaction, Niu Shujian tilted his head back with a smug laugh.

Even someone as worldly as him, a disciple of Hongtong Palace, had been horrified by Hu Tuji’s face. A little girl from the boonies would undoubtedly fare worse.

At ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‍any rate, if the child was too timid and ended up crying, no one could accuse them of breaking the no-fighting rule.

Niu Shujian declared, "When that happens, remember to send me a message via the communication stone. Every time I hear her cry and admit she’s wrong, I’ll pay you accordingly—one cry, one thousand; two cries, two thousand... and so on. Well? Am I not generous?"

Hu Tuji: "......"

With heartfelt sincerity, Hu Tuji exclaimed, "Second Young Master, I’ve never met a philanthropist as magnanimous as you!"

The flattery was so syrupy that Niu Shujian couldn’t help but grimace.

Hu Tuji picked up the invitation from the tray and turned to leave—only to pause abruptly.

With cautious timidity, he asked:

"Second Young Master, I'm a poor man and have never seen the kind of money you're talking about... Um, if I succeed, will you really give me that many spirit stones?"

After several rounds of questions and answers, Niu Shujian had grown accustomed to Hu Tuji's inquiries and his habit of casually proposing solutions.

Hearing Hu Tuji's question, Niu Shujian waved his hand dismissively. "What's so difficult about that?"

He tossed Hu Tuji a gold-plated token and said offhandedly,

"This contains ten thousand unregistered spirit stones from the Qiankun Bank. Consider it an advance payment. Well? Enough, isn't it?"

Hu Tuji fidgeted slightly. "Maybe... not quite enough."

Hearing this, Niu Shujian finally regarded the rabbit demon with newfound respect.

"What, can you actually make Yan Luoyue cry more than ten times?"

No matter how timid the little girl was, she’d probably stop after a few sobs, right?

Niu Shujian produced another gold token. "Twenty thousand spirit stones. Surely that’s enough now?"

Hu Tuji still hesitated. "Maybe... still not enough."

"..."

Now, Niu Shujian suspected this man was trying to swindle him and planning to flee with the money.

Narrowing his eyes, Niu Shujian pulled out ten gold tokens in one go, waving them before Hu Tuji’s face.

Even through the veil, he could see Hu Tuji’s flatfish-like eyes light up instantly.

Niu Shujian declared haughtily, "All this money can be yours. I’ll even place the tokens in your hands right now."

"—But you must swear a Heart Demon Oath: you cannot take a single extra spirit stone by any means, and you must return any remaining funds afterward. Otherwise, you’ll be struck dead by the heart demon!"

"Any means," of course, included transferring or selling the tokens for profit.

Gulp. Niu Shujian heard Hu Tuji swallow hard.

The scrawny, stammering cultivator immediately raised his hand. "I, Hu Tuji, swear in my name—"

"Wait." Niu Shujian cut him off. "You must use 'I' when swearing."

Hah, did this fool take him for some naive, easily duped country bumpkin?

Did he think Niu Shujian didn’t know that swearing only by the name "Hu Tuji" would let him dodge the oath by simply changing his name and running off with the money?

Once Hu Tuji properly swore the Heart Demon Oath using "I," Niu Shujian was finally satisfied.

He scattered the tokens onto a tray like petals and waved his hand. "Alright, you may leave."

Now, after several days, Niu Shujian finally received the long-awaited message.

From the other end of the communication stone, Hu Tuji stammered, "Second Young Master... I did it."

"Oh?" Niu Shujian perked up immediately, sitting straight. "Let me hear it!"

Through the stone came Yan Luoyue’s clear sobs: "Wuwuwu... I was wrong..."

A somewhat familiar young voice chimed in, counting, "First cry."

Yan Luoyue quickly sobbed again: "Wuwuwu... I must apologize..."

Another distinct yet still familiar young voice took over, counting, "Second cry."

Niu Shujian leaped to his feet in excitement.

Hearing the little girl’s pitiful weeping and apologies, his entire body felt as if he’d consumed a divine fruit—every one of his thirty-six thousand pores tingled with delight!

Clutching the communication stone, he rushed out of his room and barged into his elder brother’s study, slamming the door open.

He eagerly pressed the stone under Niu Qidao’s nose. "Brother, listen! Listen quickly!"

From the stone, Yan Luoyue’s cries sounded exceptionally sorrowful, her apologies dripping with sincerity—every inflection reeked of the rich scent of money.

"Wuu~ wuwu~ I shouldn’t have flaunted my unparalleled talent in artifact refinement, towering above all others..."

Meanwhile, a lazy young voice drawled, "Twenty-sixth cry."

Niu Qidao: "..."

After silently listening as the girl’s sobs reached the thirty-eighth cry, Niu Qidao couldn’t hold back any longer.

He glanced at his younger brother’s triumphant, beaming face and asked hesitantly, "What... is happening?"

Niu Shujian passionately recounted the entire story.

Halfway through, Niu Qidao opened his mouth: "..."

Before he could speak, Niu Shujian cut him off:

"I gave Hu Tuji this task after careful consideration, Brother. Don’t scold me—just let me finish."

Niu Qidao: "..."

By now, Yan Luoyue had reached her sixty-third cry.

When the story was two-thirds done, Niu Qidao couldn’t resist opening his mouth again.

Niu Shujian raised his voice, drowning him out as he roared:

"AND THEN! I SWORE! I’D MAKE THAT LITTLE BRAT CRY AND APOLOGIZE!"

At this point, Yan Luoyue had rapidly sobbed her way to the eighty-sixth cry.

Niu Qidao: "..."

Finally, the story concluded, and Niu Shujian poured himself tea to soothe his throat.

Meanwhile, the communication stone recorded Yan Luoyue’s one-hundred-and-ninth cry.

Niu Shujian gave the stone a slightly puzzled look.

Huh, she’d been crying for so long. Was the girl really this timid and weepy?

Come to think of it... hadn’t she cried nonstop before swindling his flying boat too...?

Niu Qidao: "..."

Taking a deep breath, Niu Qidao pointed at the still-active communication stone, where Yan Luoyue continued to sob out increasingly creative apologies.

He chose his words carefully. "Little Brother... is there a chance Hu Tuji and Yan Luoyue conspired to split the spirit stones they swindled from you?"

"!!!"

In an instant, all joy melted from Niu Shujian’s face like ice under the sun.

He had never considered such a possibility!

Just then, Yan Luoyue reached her one-hundred-and-twentieth cry.

"Wahhh—my greatest sin is being too talented! Okay, that’s a wrap!"

With a click, the communication stone cut off.

And Niu Shujian suddenly remembered—hadn’t he advanced Hu Tuji exactly one hundred twenty thousand spirit stones?

—Goddammit, she even clocked out right on time, not even bothering to throw in one extra cry as a freebie?!