She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 48

◎What is a Demon Slayer?◎

The speed at which things went south was so fast that the Thousand-Faced Demon was caught completely off guard.

The moment Yan Luoyue exposed its identity, the "black-robed artificer" involuntarily took a step back.

It had barely managed to maintain its disguise for less than five sentences. This performance could be considered the greatest shame in the Thousand-Faced Demon's entire existence.

At this point, the best course of action for the demon would have been to flee immediately.

That way, it might have still had a sliver of a chance to survive.

But the Thousand-Faced Demon was not a species known for cunning or quick thinking.

On the contrary, this race was often criticized by humans for their overly simplistic disguises and crude feeding methods.

So, the demon did not choose to escape.

It knew that in human society, the words of children often held little weight and were rarely believed.

After sizing up the difference between itself and Yan Luoyue, the demon concluded that this prey was still within its grasp.

Thus, after a brief moment of stunned silence, the demon swiftly turned the tables.

"Guoguo, why would you say your senior brother is an imposter? Such a joke is not funny."

Even without seeing the face beneath the hood, one could hear the heart-wrenching tremor in its hoarse voice.

"How can you be so certain? Could it be… could it be that my junior sister has already…"

The black-robed artificer gasped dramatically. "Unless… you are the Thousand-Faced Demon?"

Yan Luoyue: "…"

She couldn’t help but be impressed by this demon’s ability to flip accusations.

Among the horde of demons who had missed out on nine years of compulsory education, this one had at least reached kindergarten level.

Unfortunately for the demon, no amount of acting would help it now.

Because out of all the guests present, only a handful were familiar with its disguise.

Most had only heard of Yan Bixin’s name—that he was a master artificer, renowned for his skill and innovative ideas.

But as for what kind of person he truly was? The crowd exchanged glances, and not a single one could say for sure.

In such a situation, the words of the Zhaoxin Residence’s manager, who was closest to Yan Bixin, carried significant weight.

And he had already declared, with absolute certainty, that this black-robed artificer was a fraud.

Someone quickly pressed the manager: "How did you determine his identity? Did you and Master Yan have some secret signal?"

Not only were the guests curious, but even the disguised Thousand-Faced Demon couldn’t help but prick up its ears.

If there really was a code, then wouldn’t that mean…

The manager chuckled at the question. Did they really need an explanation?

If the real Yan Bixin were here and discovered his junior sister had been replaced by a demon, did they think he would stand there dramatically pleading his innocence and trying to expose the imposter?

No, he absolutely would not!

These people had severely underestimated Master Yan’s survival instincts.

The real Yan Bixin would hike up his robes, reveal his ostrich-like legs, and sprint out of the demon’s attack range like a windmill in motion—only then would he consider whether to speak!

After years of working together, the manager had seen through it all.

When faced with danger, Master Yan was a man of pure, unadulterated self-preservation—completely free from petty concerns like dignity.

But in front of the crowd, the manager had to maintain some semblance of the master’s reputation. He couldn’t just spill all the details.

So, stroking his beard, he calmly explained:

"Master Yan had urgent matters to attend to and has already taken his leave."

"Moreover, being a man of foresight, he warned me to be wary of a Thousand-Faced Demon’s interference. The moment I saw ‘Master Yan’ return without mentioning his earlier departure, I knew he was an imposter."

The manager’s concise summary was highly convincing.

The guests, who had been confused earlier, now understood the situation.

"The manager speaks wisely. We are convinced."

"This so-called Master Yan is clearly a fake. Let’s capture him quickly and protect the girl!"

"Demon, today you’ll learn the meaning of true martial prowess!"

Though the Thousand-Faced Demon lacked education and didn’t know the idiom "the tide has turned," being stared down by a hundred cultivators made it painfully clear that escape was impossible.

In desperation, the black-robed demon gulped audibly and performed an intellectual leap—skipping straight from nursery school to kindergarten level.

Pointing wildly at Yan Luoyue and the manager, it shrieked:

"If I die today, it’s because these two conspired against me! After my death, you must take me as your role model!"

Yan Luoyue: "…"

The crudest conspiracy theories always emerge in the most illiterate forms.

If only these demons had a gym teacher willing to teach them basic language, this Thousand-Faced Demon wouldn’t have mistaken "learn from my mistakes" for "follow my example."

The reason conspiracy theories never cease to flourish is that as long as they tap into the suspicions buried deep in people's hearts, no matter how crude the provocation, someone will inevitably take the bait.

Yan Luoyue glanced sideways and noticed, to her surprise, that some people were indeed instinctively looking in Zhen Zhuo'er's direction.

As everyone knew, after Zhen Zhuo'er's Daoist companion died, the Lu Family fell into her hands.

And the death of the Lu Family's young master was precisely because he had ties to demonic creatures—exposed and reported by his own wife in a righteous act of severing personal ties for justice.

Under the heartfelt accusations of the black-robed artificer, some couldn't help but wonder: Could it be that the acting city lord was once again eliminating someone after their usefulness had ended?

Time and again, those around her were linked to demonic creatures. This tactic of using others to do the dirty work had truly been mastered to perfection by the acting city lord.

Before the crowd could dwell further on this line of thought, a sharp question abruptly cut through their musings.

A young girl named Xing Biguo rolled up her sleeves and declared crisply and clearly:

"Alright, since you claim to be my senior brother, why don't you recite the lines of the Thousand-Faced Demon from 'Demon Slayer'?"

The black-robed demonic creature: "...Demon Slayer?"

Though the Thousand-Faced Demon's education level was abysmally low—so much so that the phrase 'thesis defense' had never even graced its existence—its mental state somehow transcended time and space, eerily aligning with that of a certain infamous figure notorious for academic plagiarism.

In a tone identical to the infamous "What is CNKI?" the demon repeated the question not once, but twice.

It said, "...Demon Slayer? What is Demon Slayer?—What is Demon Slayer? Are you threatening me?"

Everyone: "..."

Well, well. They'd seen people turn themselves in before, but never one who so thoroughly and precisely delivered themselves to justice like this.

First, "Demon Slayer" was a card game invented by Master Yan, his most famous recent work and currently one of the most popular pastimes in Yunning Great Marsh.

Second, why would the mere mention of "Demon Slayer" be considered a threat? Were you outright admitting your connection to demonic creatures?

The black-robed demon still didn’t realize where it had exposed its fatal flaw.

But it could sense the atmosphere, which had been hesitant just moments ago, now thick with murderous intent directed squarely at it.

After a long pause—about the time it took to drink a cup of tea—the Thousand-Faced Demon finally reacted the way Yan Bixin would have immediately.

It grabbed the hem of its long black robe, bundled it over its arm, and bolted for the exit with all its might.

A wise decision, but one made at the worst possible time.

In the blink of an eye, at least seven or eight flying swords shot out from the waists of various cultivators, sealing off every possible escape route for the demon.

Someone indignantly shouted, "Disgraceful! To disguise yourself as Master Yan, tarnish his reputation, and even attempt to devour his junior sister—this demon is despicable!"

Hearing this, the innkeeper's gaze involuntarily drifted sideways.

He couldn’t bring himself to tell the guest the truth: If Master Yan were here, he’d probably have outrun the demon by a mile.

Seeing the situation resolved, Yan Luoyue imitated Shen Jingxuan’s manner, clasping her hands together in a gesture of compassion and solemnly reciting, "Scientific Development."

Yan Luoyue: "Material existence determines consciousness. Your illiteracy doomed this path from the start. Hooray, rest in peace."

The Thousand-Faced Demon: "..."

It could not rest in peace. It absolutely could not rest in peace!

Just what the hell was this "Demon Slayer" thing anyway?!

With the demon dealt with on the spot, Zhen Zhuo'er discreetly cast a grateful glance in Yan Luoyue’s direction, unnoticed by others.

Back when she had handled the Lu Family’s young master, Zhen Zhuo'er had once met a young Yan Luoyue.

She knew this girl was exceptionally close to the disciples of the Guiyuan Sect, clever and quick-witted even at a tender age—certainly not the "reclusive girl" the innkeeper had described, nor the type to recklessly blurt out secrets for all to hear.

Yan Luoyue hadn’t exposed the demon’s presence in front of everyone because she lacked the ability to deal with it quietly. No, she had done so to subtly help Zhen Zhuo'er out of a tight spot.

The lord of Chiyu City had clearly come with ill intentions, and Ruyi City was Zhen Zhuo'er’s stronghold.

Letting him continue his public provocations would only undermine her authority.

Just then, Yan Luoyue had handed her the perfect excuse—the "Thousand-Faced Demon"—diverting everyone’s attention. The relief and gratitude Zhen Zhuo'er felt were immeasurable.

Seizing the opportunity, Zhen Zhuo'er politely dismissed the guests under the pretense of the demon incident.

Most understood that the acting city lord and the lord of Chiyu City likely had matters—or perhaps a confrontation—to discuss.

But the majority were content to play along, offering a few polite words of regret before taking their leave.

As for Yan Luoyue, she was escorted out with utmost respect by Zhen Zhuo'er’s trusted aide, who presented her with a towering stack of gift boxes—far more than the birthday presents she had brought upon arrival.

"Thank you, miss, for your righteous intervention. Without your warning, many cultivators in Ruyi City might have fallen victim to that Thousand-Faced Demon. Please accept these gifts, and do convey our city lord’s regards to Master Yan."

"No need," Yan Luoyue waved her hand with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "I only called it out because I was furious to see that demon impersonating my senior brother. I hope I didn’t cause any trouble for the city lord..."

After several polite refusals, seeing how insistent the other party was, Yan Luoyue suddenly had an idea.

"Well, if you really must give me something, how about letting me study the corpse of that Thousand-Faced Demon?"

The shapeshifting abilities of the Thousand-Faced Demon were incredibly potent. Having experienced it firsthand, Yan Luoyue could confirm that its disguises were flawless in appearance—truly something to covet.

If she could get her hands on the demon’s remains, she might be able to craft a transformation mask.

Thousand-Faced Demons were masters of metamorphosis, capable of taking on any form—male or female, old or young. When mimicking their prey, their height, weight, and proportions matched the original human flawlessly.

Yan Luoyue had always been curious about their transformation mechanism.

It wasn’t until yesterday, when she obtained a corpse of one, that she roughly deciphered the reason behind their shapeshifting.

About two hours after death, the demon’s body gradually reverted from its human disguise to its true monstrous form.

Its real appearance was flat, almost devoid of skeletal structure. The demon’s skin was highly elastic, while its flesh resembled a dense, grayish-black gel. Through the semi-transparent gray substance, one could even glimpse its simple internal organs.

Yan Luoyue theorized that the demon could manipulate the density of its flesh, allowing it to construct bodies of varying heights and builds.

The demon’s transformation method gave her some inspiration.

By the next day at school, Yan Luoyue was still lost in thought about crafting a transformation mask.

"...Little sister? Little sister?" Yan Gan called her twice before finally giving her a light nudge. "Are you even listening?"

"Huh?" Yan Luoyue snapped back to reality. "What? Did something happen? Did another Thousand-Faced Demon sneak into the school and impersonate Mr. Dong?"

Yan Gan looked torn between laughter and exasperation. "...How is that even possible? Our school is practically the safest place in all of Yunning Great Marsh."

Besides, even the demon wouldn’t be able to mimic Mr. Dong’s measured, steady gait.

Sang Ji smirked and flicked a loose braid hanging by Yan Luoyue’s cheek, sending it flying with a playful "biu."

"Little sister, you didn’t hear a single word your brother just said, did you?"

Clutching the swaying braid, Yan Luoyue exaggeratedly ducked her head at Yan Gan. "I zoned out. What were you saying, brother?"

Resting his chin on one hand, Yan Gan repeated his words slowly and deliberately.

He said, "My parents seem to be considering adding a new egg to our family soon."

Yan Luoyue: "...Oh."

This topic inevitably led to the discussion of fertility rates among demonic beasts.

Generally, insect-type demonic beasts had the highest fertility rates, but their generational turnover was also relatively quick. They reproduced prolifically and died just as fast, forming self-sustaining populations that animal-type demonic beasts and human cultivators observed from a respectful distance.

As for animal-type demonic beasts, the situation was different.

Ever since demonic beasts adopted a "tribal settlement" lifestyle, the mortality rate of their young had drastically decreased.

It was said that back in the day, this very advantage allowed demonic beasts to expand rapidly during the three-way conflict between humans, demons, and demonic beasts.

During the Demon-Subduing War, humans and demonic beasts even formed an alliance, exchanging talented youths in hopes of leveraging the demonic beasts’ greater vitality and reproductive capacity to ensure the survival of their bloodlines.

In the immediate aftermath of the war, demonic beasts experienced a brief surge in newborns to replenish their numbers.

But that was three thousand years ago.

Now, at least from Yan Luoyue’s observations, the demonic beasts remaining in the human realm—especially the turtle clan—were quite restrained when it came to reproduction.

In short: Demonic beasts could reproduce, but they didn’t particularly want to.

As for the famously laid-back turtle clan, they weren’t just disinterested in having children—most weren’t even keen on finding a spouse.

Take the Elder, for example. At over nineteen hundred years old, he remained a happily single turtle.

Of course, when Yan Luoyue imagined the specifics, she couldn’t help but think the Elder’s singlehood was for the best.

After all, the Elder was just... too slow.

If the Elder ever took a spouse, what kind of life would his poor partner lead?

Picture this: Suppose the Elder had a wife, and the two turtles agreed to produce an egg together.

Under the moonlit sky, the wife would wake abruptly to the sound of cawing crows. Remembering their important pre-sleep discussion, she’d urgently shake the Elder and ask:

"Is it over yet?"

Then the elder slowly—dragged—out—his reply: "You—wait—a—moment—, it—hasn't—started—yet—"

The moment he finished speaking, dawn broke.

This kind of dialogue couldn’t be pondered too deeply.

If you thought about it further, it wasn’t just morally questionable—it was enough to trigger a family feud.

In any case, the reason demons used to reproduce so prolifically and willingly was because the demon realm had a savage and straightforward culture, with an extremely high mortality rate among younglings. Even adult demons could die from hunting accidents or other mishaps.

But the human realm was different—it was a relatively stable and peaceful place.

In the demon realm, entertainment options were pitifully scarce. Everyone’s sources of joy were singular and simple.

So every restless spring, the pursuit of mates became a universal pastime.

But humans were different.

Humans seemed to possess an innate genius for food, drink, and amusement.

Even the most common demonic pastime—fighting—humans had refined into a structured tournament system.

And if you won, they’d even award you rings made of different materials to signify rank and honor.

The demons: Damn, fighting just got way more fun!

Another crucial point was that raising children in the human realm cost money.

Pills cost money, enchanted robes cost money, weapons cost money, and when the kids grew up and needed Foundation Establishment Pills—still more money.

Thinking of ways to cut expenses? Try setting up a stall in the human market to sell local specialties, only to find out you had to pay a management fee to the market.

The demons: "……"

In their Moonlit Market, they’d never even heard of such a thing.

As it turned out, when entertainment was abundant, lifespans were long, and raising children was expensive, intelligent beings tended to choose the happier option.

Somewhere in the unseen workings of the world, it seemed an invisible hand was adjusting the balance of order.

At least by Yan Luoyue’s generation, most tortoise couples she knew only raised one or two younglings.

Some didn’t even bother with children—after all, they had so many years to live, what was the rush?

Sang Ji was very interested in this topic.

After witnessing Yan Luoyue’s growth, he’d developed a stubborn impression that tortoise girls were exceptionally clever, full of whimsical ideas.

Even ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‍though he’d seen plenty of ordinary little tortoises, his enthusiasm remained undiminished.

The moment Sang Ji heard this topic, he immediately prodded his good friend: "Really? When are Uncle and Auntie planning to add a new egg?"

Yan Gan stroked his chin, deep in thought based on his understanding of his parents, and said, "Probably in a few years."

Sang Ji pressed further: "A few years means how many years?"

Yan Gan thought even more carefully before adding, "Or maybe… a few decades."

Sang Ji’s voice rose sharply: "……Decades?!"

Slapping the table decisively, Yan Gan concluded with full certainty: "From them raising the question, to implementing the plan, to solving the problem—well, at most three hundred years should do it."

Sang Ji: "……"

After glancing at Yan Luoyue, Sang Ji cleared his throat and forcibly held back from cursing on the spot.

—Grass (a type of plant), three hundred years? He could be this kid’s great-grandfather by then.

"Listen, buddy," Sang Ji said gravely, hooking an arm around Yan Gan’s neck and shaking him. "Next time, don’t preach your tortoise timekeeping to me, or I’ll beat you up."

Yan Gan looked utterly innocent, not understanding why he was being targeted.

Yan Luoyue, however, stepped in to clarify: "No, Brother Ji, you’ve misunderstood. Even among tortoises, three hundred years is considered a bit slow."

Sang Ji repeated with a sardonic smile: "A. Bit. Slow."

"They are a bit slow," Yan Gan complained. "That’s why they named me ‘Gan’—to fill me with drive, to sweep away the tortoise clan’s sluggish habits, to take initiative when things need doing…"

Yan Luoyue: "……"

Sang Ji: "……"

Hearing this, the two of them could only stare at Yan Gan in silent judgment.

As the saying went, a nickname might be wrong, but a given name never was.

Yet in Yan Gan’s case, even his given name was spot-on.

There was no doubt his parents’ wish had come true.

Yan Luoyue could attest that Yan Gan wasn’t just full of drive—his ability to act was astonishingly, overwhelmingly, terrifyingly fast.

Based on Yan Gan’s exemplary performance, Yan Luoyue had reason to suspect that the sibling due in three hundred years would likely be another prodigy in the making.

"Actually, I’d really like a little brother or sister," Yan Gan said wistfully. "Luckily, it’s only about three hundred years—not too long to wait… What do you think we should name them?"

Yan Luoyue ignored the first part of his statement.

Drawing from personal experience, she offered sincere advice: "Give them a nickname—a crude one. It could save their life at a critical moment."

Sang Ji ignored the latter part.

He said, "Since you’ve waited three hundred years for them, why not name them Yan Bai Deng (Hundred Waits)?"

Yan Luoyue: "……"

After a brief moment of speechlessness, Yan Luoyue cracked a dry joke from her past life.

"By that logic, if it were a double-yolk egg, wouldn’t my little brother have to be named Yan Chuanpu? After all, one stroke in the name represents a hundred years, and he’d have waited three centuries just to be added to the family registry—never mind, listen to me, that name’s unlucky. Seriously."

Later events proved that Yan Gan had overestimated his parents’ initiative.

Four hundred years later, his little brother finally hatched.

Yan Gan’s parents named their second child "Yan Ruirui."

Sang Ji: "…"

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Yan Gan: "…"

Yan Gan’s parents truly knew their son inside and out.

It was clear they had thoroughly learned from their previous naming mishap and made a concerted effort to balance things out this time.

The most sincere wish of any parent was simply that this newborn child wouldn’t turn out to be lacking in common sense…

Fortunately, at this moment, Yan Gan and the other two were still unaware of this development.

They were still enthusiastically discussing that egg—the one that wouldn’t hatch for centuries.

At one point, someone suggested "Yan Dazhi" as a nickname, while another generously dug out a grandiose name like "Yan Tiandi" from their textbooks.

Just as the three of them were getting more and more carried away, Mr. Dong’s figure suddenly appeared at the classroom door.

Instantly, the entire class fell silent.

Nearly every pair of eyes conveyed the same message: Sir, this isn’t your class.

Ignoring the students’ unspoken protests, Mr. Dong motioned for Yan Luoyue to come out.

"Yan Luoyue, come with me—someone’s here to see you at the school."

Truth be told, when she first heard the first half of Mr. Dong’s sentence, Yan Luoyue thought she was in trouble.

Given her frequent overachieving antics, being summoned by a teacher always required careful consideration—which of her ingenious schemes had been exposed this time?

Had her "automatic homework copier" been discovered?

Or had her side hustle of selling the latest Monster Slayer cards to classmates at a friendly price been found out?

Or—could it be—that their rebellious act of secretly tampering with the school bell to make the lunch break start half an incense stick earlier had finally been uncovered?

Only when Mr. Dong mentioned someone had come to see her did Yan Luoyue quietly exhale in relief, though curiosity quickly took its place.

Who could be so eager to see her that they’d come all the way to the school?

It wasn’t until she met the visitor that Yan Luoyue felt a mix of surprise and a sense of inevitability.

The visitor was one of Zhen Zhuo'er’s subordinates.

Yan Luoyue had previously wondered how Zhen Zhuo'er’s conflict with the Chiyu City Lord was progressing.

Since the Chiyu City Lord claimed to be an artificer and the Hundred Refinements Assembly was about to begin, his arrival might have something to do with the event.

If that were the case, Zhen Zhuo'er would likely turn to Yan Bixin for help.

But the situation had escalated far faster than Yan Luoyue anticipated.

She had only attended Zhen Zhuo'er’s birthday banquet yesterday, and today, Zhen Zhuo'er’s subordinate had already come to the school—first asking to see "Xing Biguo."

If not for the subordinate’s presence, Yan Luoyue would have pulled out Yan Bixin’s communication stone from her storage pouch to check if she’d missed any messages from Zhen Zhuo'er.

Otherwise, why wouldn’t Zhen Zhuo'er seek out Yan Bixin first instead of Xing Biguo?

The subordinate had clearly been briefed by Zhen Zhuo'er beforehand.

Though unaware that Yan Luoyue was Xing Biguo, he remained exceedingly respectful.

As soon as he saw her, he presented a red brocade box with both hands.

"This is a gift from the City Lord to you, young miss. Please do not refuse it. Additionally, the City Lord hopes that, should anyone inquire, you might put in a good word for her."

The gift was straightforward—if Yan Luoyue understood correctly, this was Zhen Zhuo'er’s formal thanks for yesterday’s incident involving the Thousand-Faced Demon.

As for "putting in a good word," the intended recipients were obvious.

Namely, one of Yan Luoyue’s alter egos—her senior brother—and another of her alter egos—her master.

Yan Luoyue wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

So right then and there, she mentally praised Zhen Zhuo'er to herself: Ever since we started working together, this Zhen Zhuo'er has been nothing but considerate!

—There, praise given.

The subordinate could never have imagined such a shamelessly self-serving maneuver.

Thus, when Yan Luoyue accepted the gift, he visibly relaxed.

Yan Luoyue didn’t press the subordinate for details about Zhen Zhuo'er’s situation.

For one, this subordinate didn’t even know Xing Biguo’s true identity, so he likely knew little about the matter.

For another, since Zhen Zhuo'er had asked Xing Biguo to speak well of her to her senior brother, any updates about her predicament would surely be sent to Yan Bixin’s communication stone soon.

It was just a matter of sooner or later, and Yan Luoyue wasn’t that nosy.

Sure enough, before evening arrived, Yan Bixin’s communication stone lit up.

The message Zhen Zhuo'er sent to Yan Luoyue was filled with urgency, each word striking a nerve.

Zhen Zhuo'er was a capable and composed person, usually concise and courteous in her correspondence.

But today, in her message, she wrote as if penning a novel, laying out every detail of her interactions with the Lord of Chiyu City.

Chiyu City and Ruyi City were both small cities near the Yunning Great Marsh.

According to Zhen Zhuo'er, their trade routes intersected, so the two had dealings in the past.

Once, due to a merchant's price-gouging scheme trying to play both sides, Ruyi City and Chiyu City had clashed over a shipment of goods.

Before Zhen Zhuo'er could react, the Lord of Chiyu City learned of the matter.

Then, with remarkable generosity, he conceded the prepaid goods to Ruyi City and went to settle accounts with the merchant instead.

Before yesterday, though Zhen Zhuo'er had never met the Lord of Chiyu City in person, she had considered him an upright and trustworthy man based on this incident.

But reputation and reality often differ.

Only after meeting him face-to-face did Zhen Zhuo'er realize just how stubborn and domineering he truly was.

Not only did the lord barge uninvited into her birthday banquet, but he also declared—without consultation—that he was a refining master and challenged her to a refining competition.

Throughout the encounter, his attitude was unyielding, leaving no room for negotiation.

Though Zhen Zhuo'er was only an acting city lord, her control over Ruyi City was no less absolute than a true ruler's.

But precisely because she was acting in that role, her methods had to be even more forceful than a legitimate lord's.

Faced with his aggression, she refused to concede an inch.

Amid the argument, the Lord of Chiyu City seemed unusually impatient.

He unilaterally set the refining contest for just two days later.

Reading this, Yan Luoyue's expression shifted slightly.

She began to understand why Zhen Zhuo'er had abandoned her usual brevity, describing the events in such vivid detail and including unnecessary background.

Clearly, Zhen Zhuo'er, like Yan Luoyue now, had sensed something amiss in the situation.

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The Lord of Chiyu City's excuse for picking a fight was flimsy, and his urgency about the match timing was suspicious—as if… as if he had come specifically for Yan Bixin.

Or perhaps, he might even be targeting Yan Bixin's master.

Yan Luoyue mused: Honestly, you could’ve come for Xing Biguo too—since all three identities are me.

The Lord of Chiyu City arrived with ill intentions, pressuring Zhen Zhuo'er into staking a significant portion of her city's assets on the outcome of the refining contest.

By this point in the letter, even Zhen Zhuo'er's usually polished writing carried a trace of irritation, clearly provoked by the lord's actions.

From Yan Luoyue's understanding of Zhen Zhuo'er, if the lord had proposed marriage as the wager, she might not have been so furious.

After all, Zhen Zhuo'er's temperament was such that others could deceive her affections or covet her beauty—but never touch her power or wealth.

Anyone who tried would be poking straight at her most unforgiving nerve.

As a counterbalance, the Lord of Chiyu City also pledged substantial assets.

Even the brief mention Zhen Zhuo'er gave Yan Bixin made it clear: the sum was vast, staggering, impossible to refuse.

Given the high stakes of this intercity refining duel, Zhen Zhuo'er made a request of Yan Bixin: "Might I impose upon you to represent Ruyi City in this match?"

This concerned the city's honor, so she hoped for nothing less than victory—or at the very least, a draw. Defeat was unacceptable.

On the surface, the letter was asking Yan Bixin to step in.

But between Zhen Zhuo'er's carefully chosen words, every syllable seemed to scream her desperation to hire Yan Bixin's master instead, at any cost.

Yan Luoyue: Really, it's not about the money.

The problem is, she hadn’t even finalized the master’s backstory yet.

Besides, if Yan Bixin participated, Yan Luoyue could justify settling for a tie.

But if the "master" showed up and only managed a draw, their entire sect’s reputation in the region would be ruined.

As agreed between the Lord of Chiyu City and Zhen Zhuo'er, the contest would follow a best-of-three format:

- First round: Chiyu City sets the challenge.

- Second round: Ruyi City sets the challenge.

- Third round: Open category—both sides freely refine their finest work for comparison.

Naturally, Ruyi City’s right to propose a challenge would be delegated to Master Yan Bixin.

Meanwhile, the Lord of Chiyu City had already smugly announced his chosen task:

"Refine a device capable of identifying Thousand-Faced Demons."

Given his overbearing confidence, he clearly believed victory was assured.

In such circumstances, every slight advantage could tip the scales.

Whether by Yan Luoyue's luck or Zhen Zhuo'er's, the gift Zhen Zhuo'er sent happened to be exactly what Yan Luoyue needed most at the moment.

Lifting the box’s lid revealed a radiant, silvery pill inside, its surface etched with nine spiraling patterns—a mark of its exceptional quality.

This is a Foundation Establishment Pill.

Yin Wangyou had once tailored a Foundation Establishment Pill for Shen Jingxuan, its hue a vivid vermilion—nearly the highest quality such a pill could achieve.

Yet the one Zhen Zhuo'er gifted to Yan Luoyue was an almost impossible golden-red.

It must be understood that, due to the limitations of materials and the refinement process, Foundation Establishment Pills are classified as Mystic-grade elixirs.

However, occasionally, some wasteful prodigals would choose to use better, more unnecessary ingredients to concoct a pill that transcends its rank—just like the one in this box.

This is a Spirit-grade Foundation Establishment Pill.

A higher grade not only means it squandered more resources but also signifies its far more potent effects.

For instance, consuming this pill would allow a cultivator at the late-stage Qi Refinement realm to bypass the half-step Foundation Establishment process entirely, advancing their cultivation directly to the early Foundation Establishment stage.