While Yuan Mùyú and Péi Chūyùn were in their epic clash, Lù Xíngzhōu had been trapped in the icy cold for a long time.

“The Tiānyáo Holy Land truly isn’t destroyed. I’m not an evil Soul Banner cultivator, nor am I a spy controlled by Chànǚ Xuángōng. Trust me, Senior.”

“There’s someone who constantly complains about why the Tiānyáo Holy Land hasn’t been destroyed yet, and they’re currently being protected like a treasure in the Myriad Swords Tomb. I’m much better than her; I hope the Tiānyáo Holy Land lasts forever.”

“You don’t distinguish between loyalty and treachery!”

“Oh, holy cow.”

The ice crystals were not merely freezing; there was also an increasingly bitter cold and various sharp ice shards, showing no sign of “ancestors’ benevolent trials.” Lù Xíngzhōu deftly dodged left and right until his backside got poked, finally losing his temper and erupting.

“I just didn’t want to get serious with you. Do you really think I’m afraid of you?”

A lotus-shaped flame suddenly appeared in his palm, slamming heavily against the ice wall in front of him.

His Sea of Souls seemed to hear a sound like “eh?” and then fell silent. The lotus flame crashed against the ice wall; the temperature didn’t seem to melt the ice, but within the flames, a destructive force erupted, shattering the ice wall.

Lù Xíngzhōu seized the opportunity and charged forward. The ice wall cracked like a spiderweb, no longer able to trap him, and he burst through it.

Before him was an ice-bound tombstone, with a teapot-shaped artifact suspended in front of it.

“Red Lotus Tribulation Flame, Destructive Golden Fire… Yan Yu Cányáng.” The voice said, confused, “Since you possess Yan Yu Cányáng, you must be a disciple of this sect; but if you have the Red Lotus Tribulation Flame, why would you cultivate a Soul Banner?”

Lù Xíngzhōu said, “This is the Human Emperor Banner, Senior. You’ve slept for too long and mistaken it.”

Ancient Soul: “?”

It was merely a wisp of residual soul, retaining only its extremely strong cultivation knowledge and combat instincts from its lifetime, but with very little conscious thought. When told this, it genuinely began to doubt itself—could it have been mistaken?

Mainly, it hadn’t felt any malice from the newcomer; even after being trapped for so long, it bore no grudges.

Then, Lù Xíngzhōu produced three incense sticks from who-knows-where and respectfully offered them to the tombstone.

The residual soul’s mind was fried.

He suddenly realized that very few disciples who came for trials here actually offered incense; everyone hoped to gain some insights from the seniors, or residual artifacts.

Although offering incense seemed to have no practical meaning for them… it brought peace of mind, didn’t it? So why didn’t the disciples do it? Were immortal cultivators not superstitious?

Seeing Lù Xíngzhōu respectfully finish offering incense and about to leave, the Ancient Soul suddenly called out, “You also came here for trial, why do you not look at me?”

Lù Xíngzhōu: “Huh?”

You’re an ice cultivator, aren’t you? Little Bai Mao would be a better fit. He, Lù Xíngzhōu, had always been a fire cultivator, with little study of water-based techniques since childhood. Now, even with a water bone, he used it infrequently and hadn’t really delved into that direction. When he got a skill book, it was for healing and support, which shows.

Moreover, what this person said was too hard to bear; why did it sound a bit resentful? Didn’t you just poke my backside a moment ago?

The Ancient Soul didn’t say much more; it found organizing its thoughts quite difficult and preferred to convey concepts through imagery.

The next moment, the scene in Lù Xíngzhōu’s eyes changed.

He seemed to be in a scene of a bursting river, facing an irresistible torrent beyond human power.

This point didn’t need to be stated; anyone cultivating water-based techniques knew one truth: water-based techniques usually seemed harmless, only advantageous for sustained effects, but when they truly erupted, they were like a bursting river or a raging tsunami, absolutely extraordinary. However, the problem was that to unleash the power of a bursting river, one’s cultivation requirements were very high. If you could make the opponent feel a tsunami-like pressure, generally, your cultivation already crushed theirs, so wasn’t it a bit like taking off your pants to fart?

At most, one could learn methods of accumulating and then bursting, which was recorded in the Yīnyáng Jíyì Gōng, and Lù Xíngzhōu had learned it reasonably well.

Therefore, water-based cultivators generally chose the ice path; the ways ice could inflict damage were far more numerous than water. Didn’t this Ancient Soul itself also cultivate ice?

As he was thinking this, the torrent surged over him but he felt no impact. Just as Lù Xíngzhōu thought this was merely an illusion without harm, the sensation changed.

That feeling of having his breath and all the pores on his body sealed… how to describe it? After reaching the third rank, it wasn’t much of a concern, but it had a miraculous effect on lower-ranked cultivators, commonly known as suffocating. This had the effect of “using a tiny force to deflect a great force” when dealing with a large group of low-level attackers.

Moreover… even with his breath held, the water still subtly invaded through his pores, silently seeping into his blood.

Lù Xíngzhōu’s heart finally stirred.

Especially, this was immortal cultivation; it wasn’t just ordinary mortals having water invade their blood. After water spirits entered the body, they could achieve many modes of damage. If they resonated with him, they could certainly make the opponent feel an ecstasy of pleasure and pain, dying without knowing how they died.

This kind of attack method, both insidious and effortless, seemed very suitable for him.

Crucially, it was also very compatible with the Bìshuǐ Díchén he had just learned, making it easy to utilize.

Lù Xíngzhōu thought he had found something good and showed a look of joy, but a disappointed sigh from the Ancient Soul echoed in his Sea of Souls.

“You are already at the third rank,” the Ancient Soul’s voice finally came again. “Stepping into Tengyun, one should explore the wonders of immortal families, not just consider how to inflict damage as in lower ranks. Myriad Swords Tomb emphasizes sword intent, not learning sword forms, and the Five Elements Ruins also have their own Five Elements intent. Do you know water and fire? When you know water, how can the water element within your opponent’s body not be used by you?”

Lù Xíngzhōu was silent for a moment, then bowed again to the tombstone: “I will humbly accept your teaching.”

“Go.” The Ancient Soul seemed very tired, leaving these last two words, then falling silent again.

Lù Xíngzhōu stood silently for a long time, suddenly not wanting to visit other tombs.

Just this one phrase, “Do you know water and fire?” was enough for him to digest for a long time.

If he could generalize, there would also be “Do you understand fists and kicks?”

Swords have sword intent, so do fists and kicks only involve learning moves? There is naturally fist intent. He had never been able to access these before, but the techniques of Yan Yu Cányáng already carried a bit of “intent.” If he could comprehend more, it would be stronger than anything else.

This indeed required coming to Myriad Swords Tomb and the Five Elements Ruins; you could find all the insights that matched your “intent.” Even if the world’s greatest master taught you, it might not be this perfectly aligned.

Lù Xíngzhōu quietly sat down cross-legged, closing his eyes to sense the millennium-old water intent lingering around the tombstone, completely entering meditation.

High in the sky, Fēng Zìliú sighed softly: “What a genius. When this old man came to the Five Elements Ruins back then, I was hit on the backside countless times before I could understand its intent, and this is his first time.”

Behind him, Yè Tīnglán stepped out of the void, saying lightly: “Martial Uncle Fēng seems particularly concerned about him? Is it truly because of a single encounter in the Scripture Storage Pavilion?”

Fēng Zìliú thought to himself, ‘What do you know about us men? Can I tell you about the Chànǚ Héhuān discussion?’

He said aloud: “A pleasant sight, isn’t that enough? Sect Leader’s carefree immortal demeanor is fading more and more.”

Yè Tīnglán was silent for a moment: “If you were the Sect Leader, you would probably be the same.”

“That’s true.” Fēng Zìliú smiled: “It’s better to reside high in the Scripture Pavilion.”

Yè Tīnglán said: “But if everyone were like Martial Uncle Fēng, possessing supreme skills but not contributing to the sect, what cohesion would the sect have?”

Fēng Zìliú shook his head: “Everyone has their aspirations… If the Sect Leader needs this Fēng to die, at a single command, this Fēng can die to repay the sect.”

“The sect nurtures you not for you to die.”

“But it is so that when I am needed to fight desperately, I can die.”

Yè Tīnglán remained silent.

“Sect Leader need not worry too much. Ten thousand years ago, there was no Tiānyáo Holy Land; ten thousand years from now, the Tiānyáo Holy Land may not exist either. The ways of heaven are constant; from the perspective of the Grand Elder, these are all but obsessions, merely a splash in the great waves.”

“If you had said that when you joined the sect a thousand years ago, your master would have thrown you out.”

“Haha…” Fēng Zìliú laughed: “At least I’m better than some people… I don’t occupy resources.”

Yè Tīnglán remained silent.

This was true; there were many old “zombies” who cared about nothing, only focusing on breaking through in secluded cultivation. They were considered the sect’s foundation, crucial in times of catastrophic disaster, but otherwise worthless, only consuming resources. The shortage of super-ranked cultivators in the Holy Land was the biggest reason for her immense burden.

That’s why Yè Tīnglán said these things to Fēng Zìliú, implying: since you’re so strong, why not come out of seclusion and shoulder some responsibilities? Fēng Zìliú believed, ‘At least I haven’t taken up resources, and I’ll contribute in a life-or-death battle. In plain terms, being a librarian is still a job, isn’t it? It’s much better than those who not only don’t contribute but also occupy resources. Why bother me?’

Ultimately, she couldn’t force him, so there was nothing more to say.

But she couldn’t help but feel disappointed. Even an outsider like Lù Xíngzhōu could help, yet within her own sect, many people often acted on their own.

Cultivating immortals, cultivating immortals… what kind of existence does a sect become in the end, when cultivators either forget everything (in the Grand Elder’s path) or only focus on their own breakthroughs?

After all, there weren’t many Lù Xíngzhōu in the world.

As she was sighing, distant tribulation clouds suddenly gathered.

Even Fēng Zìliú, usually indifferent to everything, had a slight change in expression: “Why is someone breaking through again? Are there so many peak fourth-ranked cultivators in the Holy Land? How come I don’t know?”

Regarding knowledge of young disciples, Sect Leader Yè Tīnglán might actually be inferior to the librarian. In Fēng Zìliú’s understanding, no one in the Tiānyáo Holy Land should be breaking through anytime soon. Yet, Lù Xíngzhōu broke through during the day, and another one came at night.

“That direction is… the Jade Pond Secret Realm?” A strange expression appeared on Yè Tīnglán’s face as she thought of a possibility: “Lù Nuònuò?”

Fēng Zìliú: “…”

Both of them glanced at Lù Xíngzhōu, who was in meditation below, then simultaneously shot up, heading straight for the Jade Pond.

Under normal circumstances, others couldn’t intervene in a tribulation, but they could at least prevent disturbances and provide protection and treatment if the tribulation-taker was injured, so a protector was usually needed. Yè Tīnglán was anxious; this was the little one who called her “Mom,” and even if it wasn’t sincere, she couldn’t let anything happen to her here, could she?

Rushing to the location at lightning speed, they saw a mountain-like shadow descending from the sky, like the Dao of Heaven had cast a World-Turning Seal, pressing down on the small figure below.

This was a very special tribulation, perhaps one could call it a “Tribulation of Power”?

Then they saw a chubby little fist punch upwards.

With a “dong,” the giant mountain shattered, its power scattering, sending the disciples who had gathered to watch flying in all directions.

The next moment, a fierce wind swept up, a tornado encircling A’nuò.

The power of wind was also a form of power confrontation; insufficient strength would naturally result in being blown away or even swept into the sky. At the same time, wind blades were a challenge to a body cultivator’s defense; some were steady enough to resist the wind but were literally shredded.

Yè Tīnglán’s heart leaped to her throat.

Then she saw A’nuò kick out a small foot.

The entire tornado was kicked away, spinning upwards into the sky with a “biu” and disappearing, much like when Lù Xíngzhōu was kicked flying by himself.

A’nuò clapped her hands, shading her eyes as she looked up: “Gone? Sob, sob, sob, gone?”

Yè Tīnglán: “…”

All Tiānyáo disciples: “…”

What more do you want?

The first tribulation was one thing, but that wind tribulation was clearly a second-level tribulation. By that count, you’ve already had a third-level tribulation. What else do you want to do?

Surely, you, such a tiny thing, don’t want to have a Heart Demon Tribulation, do you? What kind of heart demon could you have at such a young age? Did your master push you too hard, perhaps beating you if you didn’t pass exams?

Just as they were thinking this, they saw A’nuò’s small, chubby face twitch, as if she had indeed encountered a heart demon.

Then she put her hands on her hips and yelled, “Get lost! This steamed bun is mine!”