Ye Tinglan knew there was some twisted logic in his words, yet it held a grain of truth. Some things she overvalued were, in fact, merely shackles imposed by the mundane world and chains of her own heart. Her slow progress in cultivation over the years was likely related to her mindset. She lacked freedom and was too attached to appearances, which greatly contradicted the mindset essential for cultivation. This was clearly detrimental to her progress.

Yet, there was nothing she could do, as she was not, after all, in the legendary formless state. However, the matter of the veil had nothing to do with any of that. He was simply spouting twisted logic because he wanted to see what she looked like.

On second thought, there was no reason she couldn’t remove her veil as Madam Ye. Even Shen Tang hadn’t seen her true face. In fact, revealing her true face would make it less likely for Shen Tang to connect her with the Grand Tutor, whereas wearing the veil might actually lead to unwarranted assumptions.

She could indeed find an opportune moment to remove her veil…

Of course, she couldn’t just unveil herself because he suggested it. What would that imply? Ye Tinglan let out a cold laugh, then suddenly extended a finger and tapped Lu Xingzhou’s forehead.

Lu Xingzhou was startled, yet no matter how he scanned his inner body, he detected no changes.

As he pondered this, Ye Tinglan casually waved her hand and threw Lu Xingzhou out the window, where he landed in a painful split.

A’nuo dashed out and solicitously helped her master up. “That old woman is so temperamental,” she muttered.

Lu Xingzhou clutched his groin and limped into his room. “Don’t offend her… we can’t win…” he mumbled.

A’nuo hummed and grumbled under her breath, “A gentleman’s revenge isn’t complete even after ten years. Just you wait, A’nuo will make her do the splits someday!”

Inside the room, Ye Tinglan was absolutely seething. She knew that deep down, these two didn’t truly regard her as their Master. This was, of course, partly due to the circumstances under which she accepted them, as she herself had largely squandered the respect she was initially due, and she had come to terms with that. Yet, a Master was still a Master, and she was now making a sincere effort to fulfill her role, diligently teaching them everything they needed to learn. Despite this, they remained so rude. “Indeed, few good people associate with Yuan Muyu.”

Those damned demonic cultivators.

And you want to make me do the splits later?

A’nuo saw Lu Xingzhou back to his room to rest, then returned to her own. As she entered, the threshold inexplicably seemed to have grown higher. A’nuo didn’t notice, tripped over it, and with a yelp, fell flat on her face, taking a mouthful of dirt.

A’nuo sat up, sniffing, and scratched her head in confusion as she looked back. No matter how she tried to understand it, it seemed she had simply been clumsy and could only chalk it up to bad luck.

The magical glow on Ye Tinglan’s fingertips quietly receded.

“Nothing much,” she thought. “Just a simple expansion spell, applied to the threshold. You child, learn well. Wait until the day you can make me do the splits.”

Aside from Ye Tinglan’s chastisement, Lu Xingzhou and A’nuo had a comfortable night. They enjoyed wine, meat, a warm room, and a delightful hot bath. The “wild-man” appearance they had gained from sheltering in the rainy mountains for several days was finally gone. The next day, when they went to bid farewell to Meng Guan, Lu Xingzhou was once again a dashing young gentleman of the secular world, and A’nuo a charming little dumpling.

Meng Guan was exchanging pleasantries. “Young Master Lu is studying with Master Ye,” he said, “and your alchemy skills are sure to soar in the future. I, Meng, will be sure to reserve a first-grade breakthrough pill!”

“How could Commander Meng possibly be short on breakthrough pills…?”

Meng Guan sighed faintly. “Indeed,” he mused, “sometimes one must concede that inherent talent and ability cannot be altered by resources alone.”

Ye Tinglan remarked blandly, “Not necessarily. Perhaps Commander Meng simply lacks a Master he can call ‘Mom.'”

Meng Guan was speechless.

Glancing at Lu Xingzhou and A’nuo, who were visibly stifling their reactions, Ye Tinglan asked, feigning casualness, “What’s wrong? Did Commander Meng not say yesterday that a Master is akin to a parent, and therefore calling them ‘Mom’ is perfectly appropriate? Do you disagree with that?”

“We agree!” Lu Xingzhou hastily responded. “Commander Meng is absolutely right!”

Ye Tinglan offered a faint, unreadable smile. “Then go on, call him.”

Lu Xingzhou froze. Suddenly, a strange, unnatural force invaded him, his mind momentarily dazed, and he unconsciously blurted out, “Mom.”

Meng Guan and a large group of his subordinates stared, eyes wide, and collectively took a half-step back.

A’nuo’s mouth dropped open, as if she’d been gagged by a rotten duck egg.

Ye Tinglan nodded slightly. “Good,” she said.

Lu Xingzhou’s old face turned beet red. He suddenly recalled that finger tap from last night. What kind of strange art was this?

“This technique is called ‘Lie Becomes Truth’,” Ye Tinglan explained, feeling refreshed as she turned to leave. “As long as you verbally affirm something against your true feelings, in the next moment, you’ll genuinely believe it. Let’s see if you dare to spout nonsense again.”

Ye Tinglan believed she had taught those two impudent Lu family members a lesson, never once imagining that Lu Xingzhou and A’nuo would turn to watch her retreating back, simultaneously blinking their eyes.

The next moment, under everyone’s astonished gaze, Lu Xingzhou followed her, asking with an ingratiating smile, “Mom, are you tired? I’ll carry you.”

With a *thud*, Ye Tinglan delivered a flying kick, sending Lu Xingzhou spiraling skyward until he became a tiny speck, vanishing with a faint *ding*.

Meng Guan, hands clasped, sighed. “What was the point, Grand Tutor? You’re the one who wanted him to call you ‘Mom,’ but when he actually did, you couldn’t handle it.”

Yet, the Grand Tutor, who had always been aloof, self-possessed, and sternly dignified, seemed to elicit a different reaction when encountering this scoundrel of a demonic cultivator. It was akin to alchemy: main ingredients often required the addition of auxiliary materials with contrasting properties, and only when blended could new transformations emerge. One could only wonder what kind of personage the Grand Tutor would ultimately be refined into.

That evening. In a small county town.

Ye Tinglan sat expressionlessly in the inn’s lobby, observing Lu Xingzhou and A’nuo animatedly ordering dishes. To prevent those two impudent characters from calling her ‘Mom’ in front of others again, Ye Tinglan reached a compromise with them. She agreed to regular lodging and meals on the road, eliminating the need to burrow into holes.

Lu Xingzhou and his disciple seemed to have won a great victory; Ye Tinglan could even see them secretly high-fiving each other. Setting aside their disrespect towards her, this Master and disciple pair were actually quite informal with each other. Their crude behavior didn’t resemble a Master-disciple relationship at all; they were more like siblings.

The thought that she had been manipulated into a compromise by a mere title from them filled Ye Tinglan with a sense of shame. That line, “Master, you wouldn’t want us to call you ‘Mom’ in front of others, would you?” sounded increasingly wrong to her. As she watched them eat happily, Ye Tinglan’s expression remained sour, and she sat silently to the side.

“Oh, Master, why so glum?” Lu Xingzhou said, placing a chicken drumstick on her plate. “Though I often spout twisted logic at you, there’s one thing I say that’s truly from the heart.”

Ye Tinglan cast a glance at him, watching as Lu Xingzhou said very earnestly, “I hope you can relax a bit.”

Ye Tinglan fell silent.

Lu Xingzhou gnawed on his chicken drumstick and continued, “If I understand correctly, for someone like Master, burdened with so many worries, it must also be quite detrimental to your cultivation, wouldn’t you say?”

Ye Tinglan remarked blandly, “You, a mere practitioner in the Qin Heart and Accumulation stages, where do you derive such insights into cultivation?”

“The Yama King said so,” he replied. “She said the ultimate pursuit of cultivation is simply ultimate freedom, the ability to do whatever one desires. It certainly can’t be like your current state, Master, can it?”

Ye Tinglan sneered, “Did she perhaps omit the three words ‘without overstepping bounds’?”

“She didn’t emphasize that, which is why she’s a demonic cultivator, after all,” he said. “However, those three words, from any perspective, shouldn’t be interpreted as being wary of even entering a city for ordinary meals and lodging, should they?”

Ye Tinglan found herself unable to retort. Of course, ordinary people wouldn’t face such constraints, but she was, in fact, a renunciant, known as True Master Tinglan. When she adopted the guise of the Grand Tutor, she wore Taoist robes and a Taoist headscarf. For a renunciant to stay in an inn with a man and a child seemed odd from any perspective. A renunciant’s basic taboos still had to be observed. One could only conclude that adult male disciples were troublesome, a world apart from the well-behaved Qingli.

She didn’t pursue the topic further, merely stating, “Now that we’re dining and lodging normally, as you wished, why are you still bringing this up?”

Lu Xingzhou replied, “So, you see, no one actually thought much of it, did they?”

Indeed, no one gave it a second thought. Everyone simply assumed it was a family of three staying at the inn—a perfectly normal occurrence. What was there to be so self-conscious about?

Ye Tinglan irritably changed the subject. “The Threefold Qin Heart,” she stated, “is merely the process of setting a resolve and putting it into practice. What is your resolve?”

Lu Xingzhou replied, “A firm resolve for revenge, isn’t that it?”

“Yes,” Ye Tinglan replied blandly. “But if that’s your sole conviction, your achievements will inevitably be limited. Firstly, this ambition is too narrow in scope, and secondly, once your revenge is complete, what will you do next?”

“As long as it doesn’t impact my cultivation in the short term, that’s fine,” he replied. “As for the ultimate limit… will there be time to set a new resolve then?”

“Theoretically, yes,” Ye Tinglan said, “but most people, at that point, often find themselves empty and lost, unable to find their way, and thus waste their time. Moreover, I sense a profound depth in your thoughts; you must have your own ideas.”

Lu Xingzhou’s mind briefly recalled what he had told Guamei shortly after their first meeting: “This world, like a furnace, shall bear my flames.” To put it in plain terms, it meant controlling the universe and setting its rules. Framing it with the metaphor of an alchemy furnace made it sound somewhat demonic, highlighting the malevolence that filled him during that period. Now, much of that malevolence had subsided, but the core sentiment remained the same; at most, he would phrase it more pleasantly.

After pondering for a moment, he slowly said, “It’s merely an extension of my personal grievances. There is much injustice in this world; if I have the ability, I will change it.”

In reality, the underlying meaning was worlds apart… Yet, Ye Tinglan’s eyes subtly brightened.

Lu Xingzhou, observing her expression, realized why she had suddenly posed that question. He then said, “If Master’s path is one of guardianship, then it is naturally exhausting. Are you suggesting that this, despite its weariness, is your path of cultivation—one you pursue without regret?”

Ye Tinglan paused, her heart suddenly churning with tumultuous waves. She had rarely spoken about such topics. How did this fellow know her path was one of guardianship? So, after all this, was this scoundrel actually a confidant?

Lu Xingzhou knew what surprised her. “It’s easy to guess,” he said, “especially from what Master said about the Yama King… She wants to see heads roll, and you, Master, would never agree to that. Your philosophies are fundamentally opposed.”

Ye Tinglan composed herself and said blandly, “So you side more with her? Is that why you assisted her for ten years?”

“In a sense, I do agree with her more,” he admitted. “Some things must be shattered before they can be rebuilt. If Master wishes to protect, in my view, what should be protected are the common people, not the Great Qian Dynasty itself. If you could view them separately, perhaps Master wouldn’t be so burdened.”

Ye Tinglan’s demeanor grew considerably more cautious and serious. She suddenly realized she wasn’t speaking to a mere junior disciple, but engaging in a dialogue with the Judge of the Underworld’s Hall. “Such rhetoric is often merely an excuse,” she stated.

“But Master can discern the truth, can’t you?”

Ye Tinglan did not respond immediately.

Lu Xingzhou continued, “But then again, the Yama King acts purely out of pique, not some grand aspiration, so I haven’t held high hopes for her either.”

Ye Tinglan asked earnestly, “So, what is your proposal?”

Lu Xingzhou smiled radiantly. “Isn’t there Shen Tang?” he said. “For either destruction or guardianship.”

Ye Tinglan’s heart suddenly gave a powerful lurch. Although Shen Tang’s life had been spared by her, the act of saving her had merely stemmed from Ye Tinglan’s belief that Gu Zhanteng’s actions were unjust towards Shen Tang. Now, reflecting on it, she suddenly realized that Shen Tang couldn’t succeed to the throne. And if she were to help her ascend… that might indeed necessitate a period of destruction and rebuilding.

So that was it—the divination from back then, “Dragon in the Field.”