41: The secret is hidden in the mung bean powder, and the black robe kneels down to reveal the true blood contract

A faint bloody glow pulsed like a heartbeat.

The system's cold whisper, "Traceability prompt: Copper Coffin Ghost Guard, has been drinking fluid for three days," branded itself deep into Xuan Weizi's soul like a red-hot iron.

Three days!

This number, even more than the terrifying illusion of an army of corpses he had just witnessed, sent a chill through his entire body, as if he had fallen into the Nine Nethers.

He abruptly looked up, his bloodshot eyes seeming about to burst, his voice hoarse as if abraded by sandpaper: "Impossible! The keys to the underground palace are yin and yang; I hold the yang, the Old Celestial Master holds the yin. No one can enter without permission! Who could send him True Qi Fluid? And for three days straight?!"

This roar, rather than a question, was his final struggle, a drowning man clutching at his last straw.

He so wished Xuanyi would tell him that all of this was fake, an illusion created by this counterfeit fluid.

However, Xuanyi merely squatted in front of him, his gaze as calm as an ancient well, and placed the cold, half-bronze bell back into his trembling palm.

"You simply misunderstood," Xuanyi's voice was soft, yet every word was like a dagger to the heart, "Did you think someone needed to 'send' it in?"

Xuan Weizi's body trembled, his pupils suddenly contracting to pinpricks.

"You've forgotten," Xuanyi's fingertip lightly traced the ground, as if outlining some invisible network, "Mount Longhu's largest array core is the underground palace. And the underground palace, precisely, is built at the convergence of the most abundant leyline spiritual energy. Does that place need spiritual energy transported from the outside?"

It does not!

Xuan Weizi's heart was violently shaken, and a terrifying thought, one he had never dared to ponder deeply, even deliberately avoided, slithered out like a venomous snake.

The underground palace itself was a massive spiritual energy pump, drawing on the power of the leylines through complex formations, nourishing everything in the Tianshi Mansion.

"Your brother... no, he should be called 'Copper Coffin Ghost Guard' now," Xuanyi's tone carried a hint of playful cruelty, "He isn't 'drinking' the fluid; he's 'refining' it. He's entrenched at the core of the array, treating the entire Mount Longhu's leyline spiritual energy as his personal alchemy furnace. He is reversing and refining the purest spiritual energy, through the wicked methods of the 'Three Caves Forbidden Scripture,' into his own 'True Qi Fluid'! Those seventy-two corpses of outer disciples are not guards; they are dregs, sacrifices!"

"No... it can't be..." Xuan Weizi murmured distractedly, his face ashen.

He recalled how, in the past month, the herbs in the spiritual fields on the back mountain had withered, and inner disciples of the Tianshi Mansion always felt their spiritual energy was impure and sluggish during cultivation.

Everyone thought it was just the change of seasons, normal leyline fluctuations... Who could have imagined that the source itself was problematic!

Someone was pulling the rug out from under them, stealing the vitality of the entire mountain!

Gongshu Yin stood to the side, his small notebook already turned to a new page.

He did not look at the distraught Xuan Weizi, but instead stared intently at the stall cloth.

When Xuanyi spoke the words "refining fluid," the golden patterns on the cloth, the "figure" pointing deep into Mount Longhu, had raised its arm higher, as if mimicking a drawing, swallowing motion.

The faint bloody glow deep within the leylines also pulsed in sync, becoming even more eerie.

"It... it's resonating," Gongshu Yin's voice was extremely low, tinged with uncontrollable excitement and fear, "Boss, this cloth can not only trace the origin but also monitor the target's 'situation' in real-time!"

Xuanyi ignored him, merely looking at Xuan Weizi, and delivered the final blow: "The secret order the Old Celestial Master gave you, 'If he awakens, kill him,' what did you think it meant? The Old Celestial Master had long foreseen this day. What he left for you wasn't for you to judge right or wrong, but simply to be an executioner. What a pity, you were too soft-hearted."

"I..." Xuan Weizi opened his mouth, a sweet, metallic taste rising in his throat, but he couldn't say anything.

Yes, he was soft-hearted.

How could he not be soft-hearted?

In his mind, scenes from a hundred years ago flashed by.

Quanxing demons besieged the mountain gate, the talisman array shattered, and fellow disciples' blood flowed like rivers.

At that time, Xuan Mingzi, then the Senior Disciple, was full of vigor, a heaven-sent genius, wielding a "Purple Lightning Thunder Sword," and single-handedly held the line before the mountain gate.

He remembered how the Old Ancestor of Quanxing, one of the "Two Heroes," had cackled as he tore through the mountain-guarding elder's defense and struck a palm towards himself, who was then just a youth.

He also remembered Xuan Mingzi's tall figure, like a mountain, blocking in front of him, taking that palm strike directly.

In that battle, Xuan Mingzi's meridians were shattered, his soul damaged, his Dao foundation destroyed, and he became a cripple, sealed within the underground palace, said to be "guarding the Dao," but in reality, waiting to die.

"He saved the entire Tianshi Mansion, and he saved me..." Xuan Weizi coughed up blood, tears mixed with blood sliding from the corners of his mouth, "How could I... how could I raise a butcher's knife against him when he needed me most? I just wanted to... wanted to find a way to save him, even if there was only a sliver of hope..."

"So you found me," Xuanyi finally stood up, looking down at him, "You wanted to buy a miraculous elixir from me, to create a miracle. Then you could tell yourself that you tried your best, that you were worthy of him. But you never considered that the one you wanted to save was no longer your heroic elder brother."

He paused, his tone growing chilling: "Xuan Weizi, what you sought wasn't medicine; it was peace of mind. What you sought wasn't to save him; it was to give yourself a reason not to kill him. But now, reality is before you, and that 'reason' of yours is turning the entire Mount Longhu into a massive tomb."

These words, like an invisible heavy hammer, completely shattered Xuan Weizi's last shred of fantasy.

He knelt on the ground, his body trembling violently, not from fear, but from endless sorrow and regret.

It turned out that, from the very beginning, he had been wrong. Terribly wrong.

The Old Celestial Master's secret order, his elder brother's transformation, the decline of spiritual energy within the sect... All the clues were laid out before him, yet he was blinded by kinship and past kindness, deceiving himself into weaving a beautiful dream of "salvation."

The bloodstains on the stall cloth had been completely absorbed, and the golden patterns gradually faded, returning to their unadorned appearance.

The figure pointing deep into Mount Longhu also vanished.

As if everything that had just happened had never occurred.

Night had reached its end.

The rain of the third watch had long ceased, and a sliver of dawn appeared in the eastern sky.

The coolness of the morning, mixed with the earthy smell, entered his nostrils, sharpening his mind.

In the dead silence, Xuan Weizi slowly, and with extreme difficulty, rose from the ground.

The torn wound on his back was still seeping blood, his black robe was tattered, his topknot was disheveled, making him look as pathetic as a stray dog.

But his eyes had changed.

The pervasive bloodshot appearance had not faded; instead, it seemed to have solidified, settling into a dead, resolute determination.

He did not look at Xuanyi again, nor did he utter another word.

He clutched the half "Soul-Suppressing Bell" tightly in his palm, its cold touch seemingly keeping him in his final state of clarity.

He turned, dragging his heavy and broken body, step by step, back the way he had come.

His figure, in the faint morning light, appeared incredibly desolate, yet carried an undeniable resolve.

Xuanyi finished cracking his last sunflower seed, flicked the shell away, and clapped his hands to remove the crumbs.

"Follow," he said casually to Gongshu Yin, who was still taking notes.

"Boss, where are we going?" Gongshu Yin quickly closed his notebook.

Xuanyi's gaze fell on Xuan Weizi's stumbling but clearly directed back, and a meaningful curve appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"To collect a debt."

He said.

"He mortgaged the safety of the entire Mount Longhu to buy a truth from me. Now, it's time for him to show us how valuable the source of that truth truly is."

Xuan Weizi did not look back, nor did he stop walking, for he knew that once an arrow was shot, there was no turning back.

After tonight, there would be no more Xuan Weizi in the Tianshi Mansion.

Only a guide, bearing the sins and punishments of the entire sect, walking towards the forbidden land.

His steps were leading him towards the area in the back mountain perpetually shrouded in clouds and mist, an absolute forbidden zone that even he himself had only visited once.