"So that's how it is. Does this mean the expedition is effectively over?"
After hearing Yun Shan's explanation, Xiao Lin finally grasped the chaotic state of the ruins. To the outside world, the mission was a failure of spite; the legendary Earth Tier scrolls were ash. But for Xiao Lin, his single trip to the Formation Pavilion was a harvest greater than the rest of the sect combined.
While Yun Shan lamented the lost techniques, Xiao Lin remained indifferent. To him, anything below the Heaven Tier was merely reference material he could eventually deduce himself with enough time and his Star Manual.
"Pretty much," Yun Shan sighed. "We'll regroup, spend one last day sweeping the perimeter for scraps, and then head home." He paused, his gaze turning curious. "But tell me, how did you end up being hunted by a bottom-feeder like Ying Changkong? If the battle at the Central Hall hadn't ended early, I wouldn't have been flying over this sector."
Xiao Lin carefully weighed his words, his tone laced with a calculated trial. "I was fortunate enough to stumble upon a hidden inheritance. That bandit found out, and to avoid dragging the rest of the Jia Ma group into a slaughter, I led him away alone."
As he spoke, Xiao Lin's Heavenly State Soul expanded subtly, wrapping around Yun Shan like an invisible web. He monitored every micro-expression, every flicker of the Dou Huang's pupils.
If Yun Shan showed even a spark of greed for this "inheritance," Xiao Lin was prepared to drop his disguise and ensure the Sect Leader shared a grave with the fallen bandit. He didn't want to be cruel, but the memory of the original plot—where a corrupted Yun Shan hunts the Xiao family—forced him to be ruthless.
However, the current Yun Shan was a man of peerless poise. Upon hearing of the "inheritance," his eyes showed only approval, not avarice. To him, a 9-Star Dou Huang, the outer ruins held little that could help him reach the Dou Zong realm. He truly saw himself as a protector of the empire's future.
Yun Shan had just unknowingly walked past the scythe of the Reaper.
"Excellent," Yun Shan remarked, nodding. "To reach the King realm before thirty and secure a legacy in this ruin... you are a lucky young man. Use that inheritance well. I believe that under your guidance, the Xiao Clan will become a true power. Perhaps even the Dou Huang realm isn't out of your reach."
Xiao Lin retracted his killing intent, feeling a strange sense of relief. "Senior Yun Shan is too kind. I am far from that level. On the contrary, I believe it is only a matter of time before Senior breaks through to become a Dou Zong."
The compliment was sincere. Xiao Lin began to wonder: If Yun Shan can break through to Dou Zong on his own merit, would he still sell his soul to the Soul Hall? If I can help him find a righteous path to power, I can turn a future calamity into a permanent ally.
As they flew toward the regrouping point, Yun Shan began to offer Xiao Lin "pointers" on Dou Wang cultivation. Though useless to an 8-Star Dou Huang, the gesture warmed Xiao Lin's heart.
Then came the surprise: Yun Shan attempted to recruit him.
It made sense. The Yun Lan Sect was top-heavy; they had Yun Shan, but their middle tier consisted of two aging Dou Wangs with one foot in the grave. A talent like Xiao Lin was exactly what the sect needed to secure its future.
Xiao Lin politely declined joining the sect as a disciple but proposed a formal Strategic Partnership between the Xiao Clan and the Yun Lan Sect.
"The Xiao Clan and Yun Lan Sect... protecting the empire together," Yun Shan mused, appearing satisfied. In his eyes, the Xiao Clan was now effectively a subsidiary ally.
For Xiao Lin, this was a masterstroke of diplomacy. The Xiao Clan was now connected to both the Imperial Family (via the Nalan and Mu clans) and the Yun Lan Sect. This "Triple Crown" of protection made the Xiao Clan's status in the empire unshakeable.
The tragedy of the original story is slowly being dismantled, Xiao Lin thought, watching the clouds rush past. As long as I keep playing the game, my grandson won't have to grow up in the ashes of a fallen family.
The return of Xiao Lin and Yun Shan was met with a mix of relief and awe. Jia Xing Tian, Fa Ma, and Hai Po Dong had already organized the Jia Ma survivors into a defensive perimeter.
"Good lad! I knew a scavenger like you wouldn't die so easily!" Nalan Jie laughed, slapping Xiao Lin on the shoulder with enough force to bruise a lesser man.
"It was all thanks to Sect Leader Yun Shan passing by," Xiao Lin replied, his face a mask of perfect, humble sincerity. "Otherwise, you'd be looking at a very different ending for me."
The lie slipped off his tongue as smooth as silk. To the world, he was a lucky survivor; to himself, he was a hunter who had just postponed his kill. The other Jia Ma experts nodded respectfully. By drawing away the "Black Eagle," Xiao Lin had saved their storage rings—and likely many of their lives.
As the coalition prepared to spend one last day sweeping the ruins for missed scraps, Xiao Lin performed a headcount of the Xiao Clan contingent.
Of the ten Da Dou Shis he had brought, three were missing. In a realm where thousands of competitors from three nations clashed, a 30% casualty rate was actually considered a "success." The survivors—Xiao Ze, Xiao Zhen, and Xiao Yi—had all grown noticeably sharper, their auras fluctuating with the verge of breakthrough.
"Rainbows only follow the storm," Xiao Lin mused. These losses were the price of tempering the clan. If they stayed in Wu Tan City, they would be big fish in a small pond; here, they learned that the world was an ocean filled with sharks.
Across the valley, the Luo Yan Empire's camp was far less harmonious.
Ying Changkong sat in his tent, his face twisted in a mask of fury. Due to his vile reputation, the other Luo Yan factions had pitched their tents as far away from the Black Eagle Bandits as possible. They didn't just dislike him; they feared he would rob them in their sleep.
But Ying Changkong had bigger problems. His adjutant had just finished the casualty report: Two-thirds of their men were dead.
"B**tards!" Ying Changkong roared, overturning a table. "How? We are the terrors of the border! Was it the Jia Ma dogs, or did someone from our own empire stab us in the dark?"
His subordinates trembled, silent. Ying Changkong was known to kill his own men to vent his frustrations. This expedition had been a disaster for him. He had lost his men, failed to capture the "Golden Goose" (Xiao Lin) because of Yun Shan, and missed the looting of the Central Hall.
"Curse you, Yun Shan! And curse that little brat, Xiao Lin!" Ying Changkong hissed into the darkness. "I'll find you. I'll burn the Yun Lan Sect to the ground and skin that boy alive. I'll make them pray for—"
"Is that so?"
A calm, indifferent voice echoed from the corner of the tent, cutting through the bandit's tirade like a cold blade.
Ying Changkong froze. His soul shivered, his survival instincts screaming at a volume he had never experienced before. He was a Dou Huang, yet someone had entered his private tent, bypassed his guards, and stood within ten feet of him without triggering a single alarm.
"I'm quite curious," the voice continued, as a figure stepped out of the shadows, the starlight-colored Dou Qi faintly illuminating a familiar face. "Exactly how do you plan to take my skin?"
The "Lao Liu" of the Xiao Clan had arrived. The hunt was no longer being postponed.