Seeing the maiden's stunned expression, the Sect Master seemed quite pleased with his handiwork, stroking his beard with a contented air.
"I know who you are—Wan Ying, the eldest young lady of the Wanjia Denghuo Clan, also known as Wan Jiachou, am I right?"
"I have no idea who you're talking about. I don't understand." The maiden's eyes darted left and right, deliberately avoiding his gaze.
Little did she know, her guilty look had already given her away.
Her childish attempt at evasion made the Sect Master burst into hearty laughter. "Little girl, rest assured. This old Taoist has deep ties to your Wan Clan. I mean you no harm—no need to bristle like a hedgehog."
"If you don't mind, you may call me Uncle Yan."
In truth, the Sect Master's real name was Yanjia, a name that drew little attention in the cultivation world. But mention his alias—Yan the True Immortal—and it would strike fear into the hearts of many.
He was said to be one of the few High-Rank Cultivators alive, capable of controlling artifacts from a thousand miles away and eliminating enemies without shedding a drop of blood. He was already the most powerful cultivator in this realm.
Once, he had taken five fledgling disciples under his wing to participate in a trial at another sect. Along the way, they crossed paths with a disciple from a minor demonic sect—the Shanhe Sect.
Thinking he could take advantage of the group, the demonic disciple set a trap and captured them all.
Little did he know that Sect Master Yanjia had long since mastered the art of concealing his aura, merely suppressing his power along the journey.
No sooner had the demonic disciple dragged his captives back to the Shanhe Sect, before he could even boast or divide the spoils, Yanjia unleashed his three-zhang Clear Wind Sword and wiped out the entire sect.
It took no longer than the time it takes to brew a cup of tea. One moment, the bustling little sect was full of life; the next, all its disciples had vanished without a trace, not even a speck of dust left behind.
After that incident, the tale of "Yan the True Immortal vanquishes Shanhe with a single sword strike" spread far and wide. As rumors tend to do, the story grew more exaggerated with each retelling, until it was said that Yan the True Immortal possessed the power to topple kingdoms, forcing even emperors to bow their heads before him.
"Well, that's a relief! Since we're square, I'll be on my way then."
The maiden let out a sigh of relief and lifted her foot to leave—only to find a shadow looming over her.
She looked up in surprise. The Sect Master, who had been standing behind her just moments ago, had drifted silently to her front. She couldn't help gasping.
"Old sir, must you sneak up on people like that? You scared me half to death!"
She patted her pounding heart, feeling as if those brief moments of shock had shaved at least ten years off her lifespan.
"Do not be alarmed, Miss Wan, and do not be in such a hurry to leave. A guest is a guest—how could this old Taoist be so rude?"
"As for that disciple who abducted you, I've had him taken away for punishment. For his offense against you, he will endure three days and nights of torment from the Soul-Reaping Whip."
"That's wonderful! Thank you so much!"
The maiden's expression softened considerably.
The masked man who had captured her had left her covered in bruises. Even now, her waist ached with every movement.
Spoiled and doted on by her elders since childhood, she had never suffered such mistreatment in her life.
Sect Master Yanjia smiled. "A trivial matter, not worth mentioning. If anything, it is my sect that has wronged you."
"I have a hundred-year-old spirit pill here. Taking it will boost your spiritual cultivation by ten years. Consider this a token of my apology and a welcome gift, as an elder to a younger generation. Please accept it, Miss Wan."
The Sect Master flipped his palm, and Wan Ying's eyes were immediately drawn to an exquisite little red vial.
A refreshing, invigorating fragrance wafted out, so potent that just a whiff made the spiritual energy within Wan Ying's body stir restlessly.
The scent was familiar to her—there was no mistaking the authenticity of this divine medicine.
She had been fortunate enough to witness its power once in her childhood. An elder of her clan had taken one, and it had broken through a cultivation bottleneck that had plagued them for years. Their aging face had even regained a youthful glow. It was nothing short of a miracle cure.
Now, such a precious spirit pill lay right before her eyes. Wan Ying's breathing grew heavy with desire.
She hesitated for no more than a heartbeat before reaching out decisively to take the pill.
"When an elder bestows a gift, one does not refuse. Thank you, old—" She caught herself mid-sentence and quickly corrected her words. "Uh… Thank you, Uncle Yan!"
"Good, good. The sooner you take the pill, the better its effects will be. Go ahead, Miss Wan. This old Taoist will stand guard for you!"
Sect Master Yanjia wore a sincere, benevolent smile, looking every bit the kindly elder.
Wan Ying swallowed hard, pulled out the stopper, and popped the pill into her mouth.
His cultivation level was far beyond hers. If he had wanted to harm her, he wouldn't have gone to such lengths. With that thought, she readily accepted his kindness.
As the pill's effects kicked in, a cool, refreshing sensation soon coursed through her meridians, filling her with an indescribable sense of comfort and ease.
But the bliss was short-lived. It was quickly replaced by a violent, surging force, like a mighty river crashing against its banks.
The faint trickle of spiritual energy within her body suddenly erupted into a raging torrent, surging through her veins. Her delicate meridians swelled to the breaking point, threatening to burst at any moment.
Her fair, smooth cheeks flushed bright red, as if they would crack open from the pressure.
Agony wracked her entire body. The pain was so unbearable that she trembled violently and let out a scream that echoed through the hall.
"AAAAAAH~~~~"
Suddenly, the Sect Master's gnarled hand rested on her shoulder. A cold stream of spiritual energy seeped into her back, freezing her flesh solid at a visible speed.
Except for her head, Wan Ying's entire body was encased in ice.
"Thank you… Thank you, Uncle Yan!" Regaining a shred of consciousness, Wan Ying forced the words out with great difficulty.
The freezing had eased the pressure slightly, allowing her to catch her breath.
Yanjia withdrew his hand, speaking casually. "A mere trifle. The pill's potency is a bit too much for your current level of cultivation. But if you can endure it, you will be rewarded handsomely. After all, there is no such thing as a free lunch in this world."
"Yes… I understand, Uncle."
Wan Ying gritted her teeth and endured the torment.
After a while, just as Wan Ying was beginning to lose consciousness from the pain, Yanjia's voice echoed again in the empty hall. "This pill, as it happens, has quite a history with your Wan Clan."
"I… I am listening intently."
Wan Ying's mind grew increasingly muddled. She could barely force the words out. Her eyes glazed over, and she slipped into a daze.
"Heh heh… Naturally, it was a gift from your Wan family. I'm merely returning what was yours in the first place." Yanjia's eyelids drooped, but a sharp glint flickered in his eyes, unseen by anyone.
If it weren't for pills like this, how else could this little girl have managed to steal the Divine Spirit Sect's sacred treasure?
When you show no mercy, do not blame me for returning the favor.
"Speak. Where have you hidden your Wan Clan's most precious treasure—the Ten Thousand Arrows Piercing the Heart?"
Sect Master Yanjia seemed like a completely different person. Gone was his earlier benevolence and gentleness, replaced by a sharp, predatory gaze that seemed ready to tear her apart.
"It's… It's on me!"
Like a puppet, Wan Ying replied in a mechanical voice.
"What? Is that true? Hand it over at once!"
Yanjia stepped forward eagerly, his breath quickening as he reached out to search her—only to remember that her body was encased in ice, making it impossible to touch her.
"Enough! Melt!" He waved his palm, eager to dispel the ice.
But halfway through, he realized he could no longer contain the pill's volatile energy within her body. If he released the ice now, she would surely explode and die.
He thought of the figure wandering freely within the sect—an existence he dared not provoke. If this little girl were to die, the entire sect would pay with their lives.
Gritting his teeth in frustration, he had no choice but to reverse the process, freezing her solid once more.
Still, Wan Ying remained in a dazed state. He pressed on with his questioning. "Tell me. Where did you hide my sect's sacred treasure—the Red Silk Pouch?"
"It… It was taken by… that… oh…"
Before she could finish her sentence, Wan Ying's eyes fluttered shut, and she slipped into unconsciousness.