She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 58

In Wu Manshuang’s eyes, you’ve already turned into a dish on his plate.

When Yan Luoyue posed her question, Ling Shuanghun visibly froze for a moment.

Clearly, the cultivation world had no explicit rules about parking violations, like slapping a ticket on illegally parked vehicles or placing a warning sign 150 meters behind a broken-down car.

…Then again, in the modern world, broken-down cars needed warning signs because everyone drove on the ground, and collisions were a risk.

But in the cultivation world, "vehicle lanes" were all in the sky.

When had anyone ever seen an airplane, after an emergency stop due to malfunction, place a red warning sign 150 meters behind it?

As long as your eyesight wasn’t impaired, you could spot something as large as an airplane from 300 meters away, let alone 150!

Replace the airplane with a flying saucer, and while the shape changed, the logic remained the same.

"So, he’s not a local traffic enforcer, which means this ticket has no legal basis."

Yan Luoyue muttered to herself, "In that case, why did he confiscate my little UFO?"

Ling ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‍Shuanghun seemed equally puzzled.

He racked his brain, digging through his vast repository of memories, until he finally unearthed a plausible explanation from the depths of his knowledge.

"No, upon careful recollection… there might actually be historical precedent for this confiscation notice."

The cultivation world didn’t have issues like "saturation of private flying swords," nor did it establish designated parking areas.

With its picturesque landscapes and boundless natural beauty, ordinary cultivators could park their magical tools wherever they pleased—as long as they didn’t follow the example of the Crimson Feather City Lord, who once chose to land on someone’s roof.

But exceptions existed for everything.

This exception was called the Demon-Subjugation War.

Ling Shuanghun solemnly explained, "I recall that during that period, any flying vessel parked within thirty miles of a battle-ready formation could be destroyed on sight by patrolling cultivators."

The reasoning was simple: cultivators set up layer upon layer of formations, even shooting down birds that flew overhead, all to conceal and protect the existence of the war zone.

Once the protective formation was activated, the land would appear as nothing more than a barren wilderness to the naked eye.

But if a conspicuously large flying vessel were parked there, the situation would change entirely.

As long as there were clever individuals among the demons, they would inevitably connect the dots between a massive flying ship parked in the middle of nowhere and the recent series of surprise attacks on the battlefield.

And then…

—So, kid, you’re the one who led the demons here?

Thus, an unspoken rule emerged in the cultivation world during that time:

Once a battle-ready formation was activated, any flying vessel parked nearby would be destroyed on sight by patrolling cultivators.

Recalling this, Ling Shuanghun felt a fragment of his sealed memories about the white-haired man loosen slightly.

"If I’m not mistaken, he lived through the Demon-Subjugation War."

Over three thousand years had passed since the Demon-Subjugation War.

For someone to possess such longevity, their cultivation must have reached at least the Nascent Soul stage.

As for those at the Mahayana stage—true grandmasters of the cultivation world—they were exceedingly rare, and Ling Shuanghun dared not speculate recklessly.

After this explanation, Yan Luoyue fully understood.

"So, he’s using a three-thousand-year-old rule from a bygone era to penalize my brand-new flying saucer?"

Moreover, if she wasn’t mistaken, this white-haired man had come specifically to deal with the abnormally activated battle-ready formation.

You’re the one who forced me to stop because of the formation, and now you’re slapping a ticket on my UFO? That’s just unreasonable.

"Damn it, parking on the spot due to a forced roadblock doesn’t count as illegal."

Yan Luoyue grumbled under her breath while giving the confiscation notice a little shake.

The next second, her eyes widened, and she let out a soft, puzzled "Huh?"

"What is it?" Wu Manshuang was the first to ask.

"This ticket…"

Yan Luoyue turned the paper over in her hands, her eyes suddenly sparkling with excitement.

"Ha, I get it now! It’s not just a ticket."

At first glance, it appeared to be an ordinary sheet of paper. But with enough experience, one could detect the profound mysteries hidden within.

Like a mille-feuille cake, the "ticket" was merely the outer layer. The refining techniques embedded in the paper were the real filling.

Only a select few artifact refiners could perceive the traces of craftsmanship concealed in the paper.

The white-haired man hadn’t just given her a ticket—he had left Yan Luoyue with an ingeniously crafted puzzle in artifact refinement.

"How exquisite—it combines sealing and refining properties… He’s merged formations with artifact refinement."

This technique reminded Yan Luoyue of the fragmented map in her possession. Similarly, after refinement, formations had been used to conceal its true contents.

The map was precious, and though Yan Luoyue wanted to study it, she didn’t dare act recklessly. But with this sheet of paper, she had no such reservations.

At worst, she’d only lose a ticket.

Before setting off, Yan Luoyue carefully inspected the flying saucer’s hull.

She confirmed that aside from the ticket, no additional components had been added to the UFO, nor would it suddenly crash or explode mid-flight.

With that settled, the trio boarded the flying saucer once more.

The vessel, brimming with a fusion of cosmic and steampunk aesthetics, soared into the sky, resuming its journey toward the Thousand Refinements Assembly along the pre-planned route.

Life soon returned to its usual rhythm.

Ling Shuanghun selected a collection of unofficial histories and began tutoring Wu Manshuang in literacy.

Meanwhile, Yan Luoyue devoted herself wholeheartedly to deciphering the confiscation notice.

She discovered that the sheet of paper had two sides to its nature. Not only could artifact refiners use "dissolution and reconstruction" techniques to reverse-engineer the puzzle, but those well-versed in formations could likely deduce the solution through deconstruction as well.

This revelation indirectly piqued Yan Luoyue’s interest in formations.

When Elder Dong had suggested she study formations, Yan Luoyue had been indifferent at first.

But now, having witnessed the ingenious fusion of formations and artifact refinement, her enthusiasm for learning had grown significantly.

After roughly two hours of tinkering, Yan Luoyue let out a triumphant cry: "Got it!"

In her palm, pink flames flickered like burning cotton thread.

The firelight twisted into a thin, snaking line, dancing across the paper’s surface like a calligraphic stroke.

Though paper was highly flammable, this sheet didn’t burn under the flames—not even a singed edge appeared.

Instead, faint blue patterns emerged, following the movements of Yan Luoyue’s nimble fingers. The true nature of the paper, hidden beneath its plain exterior, was finally revealed.

It was still a paper product, but no longer a hastily scribbled ticket.

This was an exquisitely crafted invitation, adorned with gilded gold flakes and flame motifs—its contents reading…

New n𝙤vel chapters are published on novelbuddy.cσ๓.

Yan Luoyue enunciated each word slowly: "Thousand Refinements Assembly."

Wu Manshuang was the first to react, his gaze fixed on the beautiful invitation with undisguised longing:

"With this invitation, can you bring others into the event?"

If there had been no way for all three of them to enter the city together, Wu Manshuang wouldn’t have imposed on Yan Luoyue.

But now that he saw a chance to remain part of her journey, his joy was unmistakable—like a hamster stumbling upon an entire box of nuts, his eyes rounder and brighter than usual.

Ling Shuanghun’s mind raced in that instant: "Yan Luoyue, did you crack this invitation using refiners’ techniques? Could this be a test set up by the Thousand Refinements Assembly along the way?"

Yan Luoyue shook her head slightly.

She recalled the white-haired man with crimson eyes, his gaze slightly narrowed, the corners of his eyes upturned with a teasing smile. He didn’t seem like an official examiner sent by the Assembly at all.

If anything, he seemed more like an unstable element who scattered invitations on a whim, disrupting the order of the event.

Pinching the paper between her fingers to confirm the material of the invitation, Yan Luoyue quickly formed a plan.

Under the brightest sunlight of the day, she lifted the invitation and tilted it against the light.

Sure enough, a crimson vermilion mark shone through the paper onto the table.

This was likely the white-haired man’s personal seal. The inscription read: "Master of the Plain Thread Hall."

With a loud smack, Ling Shuanghun slapped the table.

"I’ve got it!" he blurted out. "White hair, red eyes, Plain Thread Hall… He’s Ji Qinghong of the Emotionless Path!"

"And then?" Yan Luoyue pressed eagerly.

"And then…"

Ling Shuanghun blinked, his expression turning blank and helpless. "And then I forgot…"

This memory seal was both tight and loose.

It allowed Ling Shuanghun to recall key details from time to time.

Yet, just when everyone thought the mystery was solved, it conjured another lock like a magician’s trick.

This behavior was practically toying with them.

But considering Ji Qinghong had the leisure to watch their entire "Divorce of the Underworld" performance and even circled back to slap a penalty notice on Yan Luoyue’s flying saucer, his mischievous tendencies were hardly surprising.

Yan Luoyue’s only question was…

"This Immortal Venerable Ji—is he really cultivating the Emotionless Path?"

She repeated in disbelief, "I feel like he’s practicing the Flirtation Path instead!"

Up and down, like riding a rollercoaster—this was clearly the art of toying with people’s emotions!

......

When the flying saucer passed the next town, it made another stop.

Yan Luoyue replenished her materials in this small city, refining the storage function of her artifact and enhancing its detection capabilities.

After their last encounter with the forced interception array, she paid extra attention to environmental detection.

Seven days into their journey, the upgraded feature proved its worth.

"There’s a large flying ship heading our way from behind," Yan Luoyue announced, maneuvering the saucer to give the massive vessel right of way.

Flying artifacts were common, but large flying ships were another matter.

Such grand artifacts demanded immense resources, serving as proof of both wealth and power.

Rumor had it these ships trailed seven-colored smoke, arching like rainbows—a rare and breathtaking sight.

Wu Manshuang and Ling Shuanghun, curious, immediately crowded by the porthole. After a moment’s thought, Yan Luoyue joined them.

Three little heads pressed against the oval window, their faces squished flat against the glass.

Ling Shuanghun complained, "Yan Luoyue, why did you make the window a convex circle?"

Wouldn’t a square offer more space?

"You don’t get it—this is the authentic flying saucer experience. And Ling, stop stepping on my foot!"

"Impossible. I’ve even unfurled my wings to hover." Ling Shuanghun denied vehemently. "It must be Wu—"

"Sorry!" Wu Manshuang quickly withdrew his foot, apologizing at once. "I didn’t mean to."

"Oh, it’s Manshuang." Yan Luoyue shoved Ling Shuanghun’s head down forcefully.

"Then it’s fine. Manshuang would never do it on purpose."

Ling Shuanghun, his headpiece now crooked: "?" Excuse me?

Amid their bickering and laughter, the flying ship glided past them.

The ship was a stately multi-story vessel, massive enough to hold hundreds.

Its flight was elegant and unhurried, gliding through the sky like a whale breaching the surface for air.

Instead of colorful smoke, its tail released snowy waves of mist.

The colossal ship sliced through the clouds like a blade, churning the sky into frothy white peaks.

"So beautiful…" Wu Manshuang murmured in awe.

"Not bad. I’ll make one like this someday," Yan Luoyue mused, already calculating.

Meanwhile, Ling Shuanghun fell into his usual lecturing mode:

"The hull bears five emblems—refining, alchemy, arrays, swords, and talismans. Such extravagance and preference… This must be a flying ship from the Hongtong Palace."

Currently, the cultivation world was divided among four major powers.

The east belonged to the Guiyuan Sect, the west to the Temple of Heavenly Sound, and the south to Hongtong Palace.

As for the northern snowlands, their harsh climate left them sparsely populated—charitably called a land of rising heroes, less charitably a barren wasteland of mediocrity.

"Hongtong Palace? No wonder they’re so flashy," Yan Luoyue remarked thoughtfully.

Under her alias "Yan Bixin," she’d heard plenty of gossip.

One tidbit was that Hongtong Palace monopolized the southern markets, and every refiner tied to them swam in wealth.

As the saying went: "Six-tenths of the world’s splendor lies in the south; nine-tenths of the south’s treasures belong to Hongtong."

Ling Shuanghun nodded. "Indeed. Hongtong Palace is said to be the most domineering of the four powers."

No sooner had he spoken than the ship abruptly wheeled around.

Despite its size, the vessel pivoted with startling agility.

It spun a half-circle midair, its bow now aimed squarely at their tiny saucer.

Yan Luoyue’s instincts screamed danger. She jerked the saucer upward: "What the—damn it!"

Without a second’s hesitation, the ship charged at them relentlessly.

The once-graceful vessel, now as frenzied as a killer whale, rammed their saucer with brute force, sending it tumbling head over heels through the sky!

If not for Yan Luoyue’s solid refining skills, her little UFO might’ve shattered on the spot.

This was no accident—it was a blatant provocation!

What was going on?

Did Ling Shuanghun’s comment about their "domineering style" set them off?

But they’d said it inside their own saucer.

No insults, no slurs—just the neutral term "domineering," not even "tyrannical" or "arrogant."

If this was their reaction, it’d be like someone bugging your house, then burning it down over a casual remark.

Before Yan Luoyue could finish that thought, a derisive laugh echoed from the ship.

"—Domineering? How fitting. You’re absolutely right."

Soon, a young man appeared on the ship’s deck, his face sharp and his skin slightly tanned. His chin was raised imperiously, every gesture dripping with condescension.

"Consider this collision a mercy—a lesson to remember for life."

"From now on, when you go out, remember this—the word 'overbearing' is something we of the Hongtong Palace can say, but you cannot. Our flying vessels are indeed superior, and since we’ve already granted you the privilege of laying eyes on one, you should be satisfied. Foolish delusions like 'I wish I had one too...' will only invite ridicule from the world."

With these cutting words, the young man shook his head, casting a scornful and mocking glance at the small, smoking, and dented flying saucer before him.

A moment later, an elderly man emerged from the cabin of the vessel.

Frowning slightly, he seemed displeased with the young man’s behavior and quietly offered a few words of admonishment.

"Though they may not know their place, we are still in public. Young master, you are magnanimous by nature—there’s no need to waste your time on such insignificant folk."

The elder knew the young man’s temperament well and could easily reconstruct the events that had transpired:

The young master had just ordered the vessel to accelerate at full speed, likely seized by a childish impulse to show off in front of a few country bumpkins.

He had been leisurely waiting, extending his spiritual senses to bask in the expected praise from onlookers.

But the cultivators in the flying saucer had proven ignorant and ungrateful, spouting reckless words that offended the young master, thus provoking his fury.

At the elder’s words, the young man snorted but reluctantly nodded before turning back toward the cabin.

Only then did the elder turn his attention to the damaged saucer, stepping onto his flying sword and gliding closer for a brief, indifferent inspection.

"Fellow Daoists on the other side? Would you care to step out and discuss this?"

In that instant, an inexplicable rage surged from the depths of Yan Luoyue’s heart, boiling straight up to the crown of her skull.

—Damn you and your Hongtong Palace.

With ears so long and arms so meddlesome, you must’ve been an Eastern Depot spy in your past life.

Ling Shuanghun’s expression had already frosted over, his lips devoid of even the faintest trace of a smile.

An aura of unapproachable dignity radiated from him, as chilling and lofty as a crane soaring in the heavens.

"My apologies, Xiao Yan. This matter arose because of me—I’ll compensate for the saucer."

As for Wu Manshuang, the little green serpent merely furrowed his brows, his expression tinged with genuine confusion.

"Why did they suddenly ram into us? Couldn’t they have signaled or talked it out?"

Yan Luoyue sneered. "Because they don’t want to reason with us."

"...I see."

Wu Manshuang closed his eyes, tilting his head slightly as he carefully considered the situation.

When he opened them again, he spoke with utmost seriousness:

"Then I understand."

In the next second, his gloved fingers pressed against his collarbone, deftly unfastening the two buttons securing his cloak.

Then, without hesitation, Wu Manshuang flung the cloak aside and began untying the sash of his outer robe.

"..."

Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun exchanged a glance, both seeing the same foreboding realization in each other’s eyes.

The action was baffling, even absurdly comical—yet an inexplicable chill shot straight through their skulls.

The turtle and crane lunged forward in unison, each seizing one of Wu Manshuang’s arms to halt his next move.

"Manshuang, what are you doing?"

"Xiao Wu, if you have something to say, just say it—don’t do this, you’re scaring me."

Wu Manshuang’s voice was eerily calm.

Like a divine blade freshly tempered in flames, its edge reflecting the shadow of those destined to perish.

In that same composed tone, he calmly explained to his two friends:

"Their refusal to reason isn’t our fault. But attacking our saucer—I think that’s unacceptable. So, I want to remove my outer robe and take a walk on their ship."

After a brief pause, he added considerately:

"Don’t worry, I’ll be reasonable. If anyone attacks me, I’ll let them."

Yan Luoyue & Ling Shuanghun: "..."

Yan Luoyue gulped audibly, thinking to herself: No, you’re not going there to reason.

—You’re going there to film Final Destination on their ship!

If Wu Manshuang truly walked through that vessel, the ship itself would be rendered unsalvageable.

And if even a drop of blood were spilled, indirectly touching someone’s skin—well, the crew wouldn’t be salvageable either.

Recognizing the sheer danger of this plan, Yan Luoyue and Ling Shuanghun immediately began dragging Wu Manshuang back into the saucer.

"Manshuang… Brother Wu, Brother Wu, calm down."

"No, no, Xiao Wu… no, Great Wu, it’s not worth it, really!"

Wu Manshuang shook his head, even offering them reassurance in return.

"I’m not angry. I just don’t like seeing you angry."

Then, with a hint of shyness, he lowered his head and smiled faintly.

"And… please don’t call me that."

Yan Luoyue: "..."

In that moment, enlightenment struck Yan Luoyue like a thunderbolt.

She finally understood why the usually introverted, even timid little serpent could unleash such unbridled ferocity when provoked—a stark contrast to his usual demeanor.

His thought process was binary.

If one were to categorize him using the alignment chart, Wu Manshuang was Chaotic Good incarnate.

Before someone crossed him—or if they had a justifiable reason for doing so—he defaulted to assuming everyone was good.

Not only would he greet them with a polite "hello," he even took care to walk around others, afraid his toxicity might harm the innocent.

But if someone provoked him like today…

Congratulations. In Wu Manshuang’s eyes, you had just become a dish on the menu.

Looking back, there was precedent in the "Spicy Snail" Left-Coiled Demon.

Looking forward, this entire crew had nearly turned into fermented herring pickled in venomous blood—instantly boxed for delivery to the afterlife.

Ling Shuanghun fixed Yan Luoyue with an unblinking stare, silently telegraphing his accusation:

—Xiao Yan, making Xiao Wu memorize The Menu was a mistake.

Yan Luoyue shot back with an equally pointed glare:

—What? Wasn’t it you who first introduced him to serpentine cuisine?

Considering this, the fact that Wu Manshuang hadn’t immediately removed his gloves to give Ling Shuanghun a lethal handshake—but instead obediently practiced his vocabulary—was proof of his fundamentally kind nature.

Cornered by his friends’ united front, Wu Manshuang seemed momentarily at a loss.

He glanced left at Yan Luoyue, then right at Ling Shuanghun, before murmuring uncertainly:

"I… can’t do this?"

Behind the veil of white gauze, his obsidian-dark eyes resembled a frozen lake whose surface had just been shattered.

Killing intent and madness drifted like sharp shards of ice atop the water, yet remained restrained by the lake’s unyielding shores.

Without a word, Yan Luoyue took Wu Manshuang’s gloved hand in hers.

She met his gaze steadily, and under her gentle regard, the fractured ice gradually melted away, leaving only rippling waves glimmering in the light.

Instead of answering "yes" or "no," she simply smiled and said:

"Well, we can meet force with force, or we can meet force with flexibility. For problems like this, taking off your robe isn’t the only solution, you know?"

Her teasing tone sent Wu Manshuang’s ears burning crimson.

He stammered, "I didn’t mean… I just thought…"

Before he could finish, Yan Luoyue tugged playfully at his sleeve. "Come on, let’s go see what’s happening outside."

Beyond the saucer, the elder standing atop his flying sword had long since grown impatient.

His voice brimmed with undisguised displeasure as he urged for the third time, "Fellow cultivators inside..."

Whoever owned this peculiar artifact remained a mystery.

Were it not for the lingering shreds of dignity tied to the reputation of Hongtong Palace, he might have imitated the young master's earlier actions and probed inside with his spiritual sense to see what airs these people were putting on!

With a sharp whoosh, the flying disc's door was yanked open.

Elder Dong immediately blurted out, "My young master is hot-headed and prone to childish tantrums. I beg your forgiveness..."

Before he could finish, three figures stepped out of the cabin, their smiles thin and insincere.

One of them had their eyes veiled behind white gauze.

The other two fixed Elder Dong with wide, pitch-black eyes, staring unblinkingly.

Elder Dong: "..."

In that instant, his heart lurched violently.

Wait—he hadn’t used his spiritual sense to inspect the cultivators inside the artifact.

Who could tell him why there were three children inside?!

A creeping sense of foreboding slowly rose in Elder Dong’s chest.

Struggling to maintain composure, he asked, "Where are your elders?"

The tallest of the trio stood with a straight-backed posture, but his youthful features were unmistakable—he couldn’t have been very old.

With cool detachment, he shook his head. "There’s just the three of us."

The boy then inquired politely, "Earlier, you mentioned your young master had a childish tantrum?"

Elder Dong: "..."

For a moment, he was at a loss for words.

Hongtong Palace had never been ashamed of its reputation for domineering arrogance—in fact, they took pride in it.

After all, power was its own justification, and oppression was simply a way to flaunt that power.

...But that didn’t extend to bullying children.

A general who led armies to conquer cities and territories, leaving no survivors in his wake, might be called a "ruthless warlord."

But if that same general swaggered up to a child on the roadside, snatched their fried chicken, devoured all the crispy skin, and then shoved the leftovers back into their hands—well, he’d only earn himself a scornful "What a petty, spineless coward!"

No matter how lawless and overbearing their conduct, Hongtong Palace still had some face to maintain!

Taking a deep breath, Elder Dong reminded himself that he had decades more experience under his belt.

He decided to leverage his seniority, scold these three children into submission, and sweep the whole matter under the rug.

With a stern expression, he attempted to intimidate Ling Shuanghun:

"My young master is Niu Shujian, a true disciple of Hongtong Palace. Since you’re old enough to understand, take your younger siblings and mind your words..."

Before he could finish, the shortest of the trio—a little girl—clapped her hands over her face and burst into loud, dramatic sobs.

Elder Dong: "..."

"B-Brother," the girl whimpered between sniffles, "after causing such a big mess, will we still have time to celebrate your tenth birthday?"

Elder Dong: "..."

What? Not even ten years old?!

Were these children growing a bit too well?

The thought flickered through his mind for only a second before he realized—these three must be of demonic descent.

Hearing Yan Luoyue’s cries, Wu Manshuang stiffened slightly, as if struck by sudden inspiration.

"Little sister, don’t cry."

He inhaled deeply, his gauze-covered eyes closing slowly.

Stretching his hands out uncertainly, Wu Manshuang fumbled in the air before finally grasping Yan Luoyue’s arm with determined resolve.

"You’re already a big girl of five. You mustn’t cry, understand?"

Elder Dong: "..."

Damn it all, this one was even younger—just five years old!

And this boy with the white gauze... was he blind?!

This entire group was a pitiful sight—young, weak, sickly, and disabled.

If not for the fact that his young master had provoked them first, Elder Dong might have marveled at how perfectly they were set up for a scam.

Hongtong Palace’s flying vessel was too large and conspicuous.

After hovering in midair for only a short while, the number of onlookers in smaller flying artifacts had steadily grown.

Whatever the young master’s spiritual sense had picked up, it must have infuriated him—the next second, the cabin door was flung open. "Elder Dong, drive them all away!"

As if competing with the young master’s outburst, the little girl’s wails instantly escalated, her cries soaring eight octaves higher.

Niu Shujian: "..."

Without a word, Ling Shuanghun shot Yan Luoyue a sidelong glance.

When had she learned his vocal techniques for operatic trills?

His head pounding from the children’s antics, Elder Dong squeezed his eyes shut, veins bulging at his temples.

Normally, unless they were dealing with one of the other three great factions, anyone who crossed Hongtong Palace had no choice but to swallow their grievances—blood, teeth, and all.

But when children lost teeth, they didn’t have to swallow anything.

Because losing baby teeth was perfectly natural.

Not only could they lose them, but they could also wail about it at ear-splitting volumes.

A shadow flickered in Elder Dong’s gaze as he gestured sharply to the disciples aboard the flying vessel.

He signaled for them to clear the area, forcibly shooing away the nosy spectators in their smaller crafts.

As long as word didn’t spread, their dignity would remain intact.

The moment he made the gesture, Elder Dong noticed something—the oldest of the three, the boy in the crane-feather cloak, was pulling out a brush and hastily scribbling onto a bamboo scroll.

As he wrote, he recited aloud:

"Niu Shujian of Hongtong Palace, abusing his power to bully children as young as five, leaving them weeping midair.

"Niu Shujian sneered, 'This vessel is ours—consider it a privilege just to glimpse it. Did you think you could ever own such a thing?'

"Having spoken, Niu Shujian’s face twisted with smug triumph. The children’s cries grew even louder. Many witnessed this scene, yet all onlookers were harshly driven away..."

Elder Dong: "..."

Hold on! While the facts weren’t wrong, his young master’s image was steadily devolving from its original domineering arrogance into something far pettier—more like a petty thug squabbling over scraps!

And this style of recording...

A far more dreadful realization crashed over Elder Dong’s mind.

Swallowing hard, he ventured, "You wouldn’t happen to be... from the demon race’s..."

Ling Shuanghun set down his brush and offered a formal salute.

The young man held his head high, his gaze brimming with unyielding defiance.

"This junior is Ling Shuanghun, historian of the Crane Clan."

Elder Dong: "..."

Damn it all! Of all the rotten luck.

It was too late to suppress the story now.

After all, the bamboo scrolls carried by historians were specially forged artifacts.

Whatever they recorded would instantly reflect in the master scroll kept at their headquarters. No one but the historian themselves could alter the contents.

If this crane youth insisted on this version of events, the name "Niu Shujian of Hongtong Palace" would be dragged through the mud across the entire demon realm!

Elder Dong’s face twitched violently before he forced a strained smile. "Little girl... you’re five, right? I’ll have them bring you some pastries."

Ling Shuanghun’s brush danced across the scroll as he narrated:

"Elder Dong of Hongtong Palace declared, 'Here, have some cakes—come and eat...'"

Elder Dong: "..."

Humiliated repeatedly by these children, a ruthless glint flashed in Elder Dong’s eyes.

He clenched his fists, still maintaining a polite smile on his face.

"Little friend, there’s no need to panic. Things haven’t reached that point yet. We accidentally collided with your flying vessel, and we feel terrible about it. Come, come—let us escort you aboard our ship and take you the rest of the way..."

As soon as he finished speaking, the boy with white gauze covering his eyes seemed to snap to attention, as if suddenly reminded of something.

Oh? Just now, he was playing weak and scheming, but now he’s scared?

A cold smirk curled at the corner of Elder Dong’s lips.

Before the smirk could fully settle in his eyes, he heard the boy say:

"Oh no, little sister, isn’t this flying ship owned by the Mistress of the Plain Silk Hall, the Heartless Daoist Ji Qinghong? How did we end up breaking it? Can it still be fixed?"

Elder Dong: "..."

Yan Luoyue: "..."

She realized that Wu Manshuang was truly a diligent learner—and exceptionally quick at picking things up.

Elder Dong shuddered, disbelief coloring his voice. "Who did you say?"

Wu Manshuang calmly repeated the title, enunciating each word with perfect clarity, proving that his recent efforts to improve his speech had paid off.

"The Mistress of the Plain Silk Hall, the Heartless Daoist Ji Qinghong."

Elder Dong: "..."

Each of those three identities pointed unmistakably to one person—a white-haired, red-eyed, utterly unpredictable, and extremely troublesome individual.

At this point, Elder Dong couldn’t even force a smile anymore.

Struggling to speak, he managed, "Demon Venerable Ji... how could this artifact... possibly belong to the Demon Venerable?"

Ling Shuanghun’s expression was frosty.

As the oldest among the three and a historian by trade, his words carried undeniable weight.

"Someone presented it to the Demon Venerable as tribute. She found it amusing and lent it to us for a while."

Heaven bore witness—the white-crowned crane hadn’t spoken a single lie.

"Someone presented it to the Demon Venerable"—that someone was, naturally, Yan Luoyue.

"The Demon Venerable found it amusing"—yes, those were Ji Qinghong’s exact words.

"Lent it to us for a while"—absolutely true, given that she had even issued a "Confiscation Permit."

As long as the "Confiscation Permit" was acknowledged, the ownership of this flying disc undeniably belonged to Ji Qinghong!

Now, not only Elder Dong, but even Niu Shujian, standing on the deck, could no longer muster a mocking expression. His shoulders trembled faintly.

After standing frozen for a moment, he suddenly vaulted over the railing of the flying ship:

"Wait, I don’t believe it! These brats have no sense of propriety—they’d dare spin any kind of lie—"

Before he could finish, Yan Luoyue burst into tears and pulled out an invitation to the Thousand Refinements Assembly from her sleeve.

Bathed in the afternoon sunlight, the vermilion seal bearing "Mistress of the Plain Silk Hall" gleamed unmistakably on Niu Shujian’s sharp face.

Niu Shujian: "..."

Yan Luoyue covered her eyes dramatically, sobbing in exaggerated grief.

"The Thousand Refinements Assembly... hic... is about to start. Without our flying artifact, if we can’t make it in time... the Demon Venerable will surely feel her kindness has been spurned... hic..."

Elder Dong: "..."

Niu Shujian: "..."

Elder Dong nearly crushed his own fist, forcing a smile more bitter than tears.

"Little girl, please stop crying... We have refiners among us. We’ll repair your flying disc..."

Yan Luoyue’s childish voice shot up abruptly, nearly reaching dolphin-like pitches.

"No more flying ship... the Demon Venerable’s ship was wrecked! Right in front of us!"

Ling Shuanghun nodded apologetically. "She’s young and spirited—prone to childish tantrums. Our apologies."

Elder Dong: "..."

Wasn’t that the exact phrasing he’d used to excuse his own young master earlier?!

Gritting his teeth, Elder Dong offered, "We’re willing to compensate with materials..."

Yan Luoyue wailed even louder. "The ship—the ship—!"

Wu Manshuang crouched down, his movements slow and sorrowful as he groped his way toward Yan Luoyue’s hand and gave it a gentle pat.

"Little sister, you must be sensible. If you have grievances, take them to the Demon Venerable. Don’t cry in front of outsiders, and don’t throw a fit just because someone said you’ll never deserve a ship like this again."

Elder Dong: "..."

Niu Shujian: "..."

As Niu Shujian began trembling uncontrollably, Elder Dong stretched his lips into a smile that looked as if he’d just buried his entire ancestral line.

Through clenched teeth, he made the ultimate sacrifice.

"Ahaha, this young friend has quite the sense of humor. What I mean is... if you lack a means of transportation, why not take our flying ship instead?"