Zhou Fei pinched his fingers together, and the woman’s soul condensed into a snow-white pearl at his fingertips. He gently placed it into his sleeve, then looked up at the old monk of the Vajra Temple, his previous amiable tone gone. He said directly, “Let’s get back to the matter of that dress. I know it’s related to you. Zhong Qiu even came to the temple to find you about it.”

But the old monk was still unwilling to discuss the real issue. His eyes were filled with nostalgia as he gazed at the lush, green forest outside. “This old monk had a junior brother. When he was young, we cultivated the Dharma together. He said he couldn’t bear to see tragic stories in the human world. Whenever he saw them, he couldn’t help but wonder, if Buddha exists in the world, why is humanity still like this? Even if he achieved Buddhahood, what good would it do? Later, I left that small temple in my hometown, and I don’t know where that junior brother is now…”

“Did he become a Buddha?”

Zhou Fei suppressed his anger, shook his head gently, and scoffed, “In such a small place, how could a true Buddha be born? Old monk, you’re thinking too much.”

The old monk shook his head. “I just want to know if my junior brother is still alive. After so many years, I dearly miss the rice porridge he used to make.”

Zhou Fei was about to stand up. “I don’t have time to waste with your circumlocutions. I’ll send you on your way so you can ask your junior brother yourself whether he still makes porridge down below.”

The old monk’s expression remained calm, and he smiled slightly. “If I help you, Zhou Fei, obtain the Arhat golden body from the palace, can you promise me one thing?”

Zhou Fei sat down again, finding it amusing. “‘I’?”

The old monk reached out and stroked his bald head, sighing, “I don’t intend to be a monk anymore. I was abandoned at the temple gate as a child and kindly taken in by my master. My junior brother and I used to overthink everything all day long. Actually, I’ve always wanted a comb.”

Zhou Fei burst into laughter.

The old monk removed his outer kasaya, folded it neatly, and placed it aside. He said softly, “Please help her find a way to escape, so she won’t be confined to this ‘small place’ anymore.”

A flowing, wide-sleeved azure dress appeared in a corner of the room.

The beauties who had served Zhou Fei for many years outside the room were knowledgeable and worldly, but even they were astonished at the sight of this dress floating in the air.

The dress floated towards the old monk, the hem slowly falling to the ground, eventually settling into what appeared to be a kneeling posture.

After removing his kasaya, the old monk’s speech became less refined. “For so many years, I’ve been the lamp-lighting monk and sutra-preaching monk of this Vajra Temple, day after day, year after year, reciting countless scriptures and Buddhist teachings to them. Various people, from all walks of life, listened, but they only listened. The great battles on the battlefield still raged, and the vendettas in the pugilistic world continued as before. You can’t expect me, a monk, to pick up a knife to eliminate evil and bring peace, stopping killing with killing, or hold a knife to their necks, forcing them to be good and to believe in Buddha?”

One sleeve of the dress lifted to cover the neckline, striking a pose as if concealing a delicate laugh.

The old monk stared at Zhou Fei. “Can you do it?”

Zhou Fei did not rush to answer. The old monk of the Vajra Temple before him was a sage of the Buddhist faith in this realm, skilled in large-character calligraphy, his characters as powerful and imposing as vajra pestles.

Zhou Fei sighed. “A businessman still needs to have some integrity. Old monk, do you really not know that obtaining this kind of recognized blessing allows one to leave this place?”

The old monk turned to look at the azure dress, saying helplessly, “She’s different.”

Although Zhou Fei was a banished immortal who had awakened early, he didn’t dare to claim to know all the rules. After all, before descending, it was necessary to undergo some true immortal secret arts that restricted the soul.

Mirror Heart Studio, Vajra Temple, Reverence Pavilion.

The heads of these three places, after repeated tribulations and accumulations, might know no less than he did.

The old monk smiled. “I am completely reassured that benefactor Zhou asks this.”

Zhou Fei muttered to himself, “For me, the best-case scenario is, of course, to leave with Zhou Shi together. But what if there are accidents, like the present situation where Zhou Shi is badly wounded, with almost no chance to sneak into the top ten? Then, I need to ensure that after I leave, Zhou Shi will have a better chance sixty years later. Zhou Shi, Crow, Fan Wan’er, whoever it is, can shine brightly in a larger world if someone is willing to look after them.”

Speaking to this point, Zhou Fei could not hide his indignation. “Lu Fang, that idiot, saw through it clearly, but he never truly understood it. Where am I supposed to find him a master’s wife or junior sister! He even dared to stab me with a sword back then…”

The old monk looked up.

Zhou Fei suddenly raised a hand, a letter appearing between his fingers.

Looking down at the contents, Zhou Fei burst out laughing. “Heaven helps me.”

He turned to look at those peerless beauties, each with their own merits. Zhou Fei sighed inwardly, filled with regret. Not mentioning Tong Qingqing, a fellow traveler that he couldn’t hope for, even compared to the Empress Zhou Shuzhen of the Southern Garden Kingdom, Fan Wan’er of Mirror Heart Studio and Crow of the Demonic Sect, their martial arts aptitude was far inferior.

Wei Yan, the crown prince of the Southern Garden Kingdom, wearing casual clothes, was leading two people through the corridors of the crown prince’s residence. One of them was Wei Yan’s mentor, an old man who was short and thin like a monkey, but was a true grandmaster of martial arts in the present world.

The other was Fan Wan’er, a fairy from the martial arts sacred ground, Mirror Heart Studio, revered as a goddess by the pugilistic disciples of the Southern Garden Kingdom.

Wei Yan’s expression was strange, a bit awkward, but mostly relieved. However, out of respect for his mentor, he couldn’t reveal it.

The old man, who had imparted Wei Yan with profound martial arts, was fuming. “Good heavens, he’s been hiding right under my nose all these years. I couldn’t discover him. When I meet him, I must ask him to spar and experience the true abilities of the top ten in the world. National Preceptor Zhong is a rare hero in this world, and I always admired him, but I don’t believe that a cook can be so powerful!”

The old man grumbled.

It turned out that Reverence Pavilion had freshly released the latest list of the top ten in the world, naming them, their locations, and their martial arts strengths in concise descriptions. Ding Ying, Yu Zhenyi, and the like were familiar faces, but there was one who seemed to have suddenly emerged, and their hiding place was in the crown prince’s residence of this Southern Garden Kingdom, their identity was actually a cook.

A tall old man, covered in the aura of the kitchen and smelling of oil and salt, had taken a break from his busy schedule to squat outside the orderly and spotless kitchen, taking golden fried soybeans one by one and tossing them into his mouth. Inside, the disciples and grandchildren he had personally trained were busy preparing today’s lunch.

The old chef saw the figure of Crown Prince Wei Yan and sighed, his old face wrinkled, finding no peace.
Wei Yan dismissed the cooks, servants, and maids. The old cook, resigned, squatted in place, sighing deeply.

The previously aggressive, diminutive old man, faced with this Grandmaster from the rankings, instantly lost his interrogative fervor, becoming taciturn, his gaze fixed on this ancient figure hidden in the court.

The old cook, however, kept glancing sideways at Fan Wan’er, a quick look followed by an immediate retraction of his gaze, as if unable to resist. Even Fan Wan’er found it odd.

Wei Yan wondered, “Could he be a lecherous old man?”

Throughout the generations, of the Ten Under Heaven, aside from Zhou Fei of Spring Tide Palace and the female Tong Qingqing, few had ever truly cared for the beauty of the mortal realm.

The old cook’s first words were startling, “Do you know how many types of Exiled Immortals there are?”

Wei Yan and the skinny old man exchanged bewildered glances.

Fan Wan’er, due to her origins in Mirror Heart Monastery, knew some inside information.

The old cook popped a roasted soybean into his mouth, “Only the taste of food remains, never betraying. If even this is to be taken away, then I… I’ll just have to become a drunkard!”

The old cook stopped looking at Fan Wan’er, tossing half the roasted soybeans into his mouth in one go, dusting off his hands, and standing up. “When Exiled Immortals descend to the mortal realm, to experience the red dust, one type is like Zhou Fei and Feng Qingbai, knowing early on what they seek in this world. Therefore, their actions seem shocking to us, but to them, they are perfectly justified. However, the desires of this type of Exiled Immortal are not too profound. Then there is your Mirror Heart Monastery’s founder, Tong Qingqing, who seems to be hiding from something.”

“The second type is like Lu Fang, who awakens later but will inevitably do so at a crucial moment.”

“And then there’s a third type, which is just my conjecture. They never fulfill their wish in life and thus can never truly awaken, living in a daze, life after life, until their homeland becomes a distant memory, and the foreign land becomes their home. This type of person is quite special, often possessing remarkable appearances and high aptitude for martial arts, but in the eyes of others, their achievements always fall short of the highest, always just a little bit off.”

The old cook then stared at Fan Wan’er, “But this type of person sometimes inevitably carries a ‘non-compliant’ aura. The so-called ‘possessed’ or ‘bewitched’ in the common streets, a small fraction of it is related to this. Young girl, have you felt anything strange about yourself recently?”

Fan Wan’er hesitated, then nodded, “Twice.”

The old cook nodded, smiling, “Old Devil Ding is formidable indeed. ‘There is no one unworthy of being killed in this world. There is no one unworthy of being forgiven in this world.’ He’s already not far behind that madman of yesteryear, and even smarter. I think he’s likely to get his wish this time. Yu Zhenyi wants to protect this mortal realm, and in my eyes, he’s naturally also formidable, but in the eyes of some, I suspect his vision is still too small. On the contrary, State Preceptor Zhong Qiu, who has always been overshadowed by Yu Zhenyi, traveled alone throughout the Four Kingdoms and the Eight Barbarian Territories in recent years. I see greater potential in him.”

The old cook sighed, “As for me, the more I say, the more mistakes I make. Ignorance is bliss. I used to want to stir things up, but the more I see, the less motivated I become. This time’s turmoil, Old Devil Ding and Yu Zhenyi are mortal enemies. With those two keeping watch, no one on the rankings will escape this time. As for me, I’m no longer curious about what Exiled Immortals are. I just hope to live another twenty or thirty years, and I’ll be content. So…”

The old cook suddenly struck, using two fingers as a sword, piercing several of his key acupoints. Instantly, blood flowed freely, and the aura of near “Dao Harmonization” that Yu Zhenyi or “Exiled Immortal” Chen Ping’an saw in him instantly crumbled, plummeting from being the most elite Grandmaster in this world to a master even weaker than the skinny old man, choosing to actively withdraw from this rising storm.

The old cook’s face was pale, but his smile was relieved as he asked Prince Wei Yan, “Such a large Prince’s residence, it wouldn’t be a problem to support an old codger like me for another twenty or thirty years, would it? Of course, if there’s a time when you really need me to lend a hand, Your Highness can ask.”

Wei Yan nodded, “Sir, you can rest here in peace. I will never disturb your cultivation without cause.”

On the peak of Buffalo Mountain, Zhou Shuzhen, who had just reached the foot of the mountain and then returned, held a secret letter, smiling wryly, and handed it to Yu Zhenyi.

Yu Zhenyi took it, read its contents, and frowned, “What is this?”

Zhou Shuzhen said helplessly, “It must be from the Reverence Tower, but definitely not from our Reverence Tower’s doing.”

Yu Zhenyi looked up at the sky.

When standing high enough, a god viewing mountains and rivers, the mortal realm is a spectacular sight of countless stars, but it is difficult to focus on any one person.

Yu Zhenyi deeply understood this.

For example, in his eyes, he could see Old Devil Ding, Chen Ping’an, and Lu Fang in Champion Lane. Their points of light were particularly dazzling.

Further away, there were two points for Diamond Monastery and four points for Prince’s Residence. The brightest of those points suddenly dimmed.

This distant observation did not consume Yu Zhenyi’s spiritual energy accumulated over the years. However, if Yu Zhenyi wanted to “zoom in” and closely observe someone, he would have to pay a significant price.

Near the residence in Champion Lane, Old Devil Ding, wearing a silver lotus crown, suddenly received a secret letter from the Reverence Tower.

Seeing the final lines, the old man’s eyes lit up.

Such a good thing?

Even Ding Ying was tempted.

He glanced at Cao Qinglang, tsking, “Little one, you have good luck!”

As for that outsider, he must have been severely set up by someone; otherwise, he wouldn’t have attracted such a heavy suppression.

In the history known to Ding Ying, there had never been such blatant interference during each sixty-year cycle. No Exiled Immortal had ever been so blatantly targeted.