I risked my life, using the butterfly effect to shatter the immortal realm.

As night deepened, Purple Bamboo Peak found no peace.

In the kitchen, Ah Tuo was chopping vegetables with a deafening roar, while in the courtyard, Liu Bo was pulling Wang Yi aside and boasting about the "young master's" great achievements.

Inside the main hall, Yu Liang huddled in a broken-legged armchair, clutching tightly the storage bag containing 100,000 high-grade spirit stones.

This isn't money; it's a death warrant obtained through deception and causal deception.

It felt as if countless invisible poison needles were suspended in the air, aimed directly at his pores, waiting for him to blink so he could be turned into a hedgehog.

Heaven rejects it.

The price of causal deception has come.

Once his identity as the "Young Master of the Demonic Path" was confirmed, he realized that he could no longer use the "Causal Slippage Effect" at will, and the price was that he would become even more unlucky.

A life borrowed requires interest to be repaid.

This interest isn't money, it's bad luck.

It's like drinking cold water and getting a toothache, falling flat on your face and breaking your leg, or even just breathing and causing your alveoli to explode on the spot.

"Don't move... Absolutely do not move."

Yu Liang was as stiff as a stone sculpture.

As long as no variables are introduced, bad luck cannot find a starting point.

His throat was parched and he reached for the blue-and-white porcelain cup on the table very slowly.

The fingertips moved slowly toward the teacup.

One inch.

Two inches.

The moment your fingertips touch the porcelain wall.

"Smack."

The porcelain cup shattered without warning, and scalding hot tea poured over his head and onto his crotch.

Holy crap!

Yu Liang used his waist and abdomen to propel himself and the chair backward.

The tea flew in an arc through the air and landed squarely on Wang Yi's face as he stepped across the threshold.

Sizzle—white smoke rises.

"Wang Yi! Quick..." Yu Liang exclaimed in alarm.

"Cool!!!"

A roar interrupted Yu Liang.

Despite the scalding red surface of his face, Wang Yi not only didn't cry out in pain, but instead licked the tea stains from the corner of his mouth, his eyes burning with fervor: "Such pure Yang Fire power! Thank you, Master Yu, for the enlightenment! This disciple understands, this is the Vajra Iron Face Skill, which remains unmoved even when Mount Tai collapses before it!"

The twenty-two bald disciples behind him had their eyes gleaming green, and they shouted in unison:

"I want it hot too!"

"Master Yu! Please give me a face full of boiling water!"

"I'm shameless, go ahead and splash me!"

Yu Liang silently put down the last cup in his hand, his heart filled with despair.

Everyone on Zizhu Peak is crazy.

The air pressure inside the room was so low it was suffocating, so Yu Liang got up and went outside for some fresh air.

As soon as his right foot stepped out of the threshold, the smear of lard on the sole of his shoe made him slip, and he kicked a small pebble off the roadside.

"Whoosh—"

The pebble struck the low-flying magpie, its trajectory abruptly changed, and it bounced towards the old locust tree three zhang away.

"Ouch!"

The old locust tree trembled from the impact, its roots squeezing out the earth's vital energy that had been buried beneath its roots.

Before he could even catch his breath, the bouncing pebble struck him precisely between the eyebrows.

"What kind of scoundrel dares to attack my spirit seed?!"

Tu San screamed and instinctively used Earth Escape to dash around, crashing headfirst into the workshop support of Mo Ju next to him.

Splash!

The support collapsed, and a fine iron pivot rolled down, jamming the rapidly spinning serrated crescent blade.

"Crack—" Sparks flew everywhere.

"My Spirit Pivot!" Mo Ju's single eye flashed with blue light.

The out-of-control crescent blade suddenly leaped and severed the main spiritual water pipe connecting the entire peak.

In the kitchen next door, Ah Tuo was delicately garnishing the braised pork intestines with his pinky finger.

The water pipes overhead burst, and muddy water mixed with rust poured down like a waterfall.

The hair bun collapsed, and the intestines floated away.

A-Tu stood frozen in place, just as he opened his mouth to spit out some saliva, a mouthful of mud poured into his throat, choking him and making his eyes roll back in his head.

The dramatic change in the water veins caused a backflow of spiritual pressure.

Inside the alchemy room, Hongyao was stirring a pot of youth-preserving mud.

"Huh? Why is it smoking?"

boom!

The furnace shattered, and foul-smelling waste elixir mud sprayed into the backyard like black rain.

In the shadows, the half-open coffin lid was flung open, and black mud soaked through Kumu's body.

He sprang straight up, took a deep breath, and a strange flush appeared on his expressionless face: "Such pure death aura... Second Junior Sister's specially made corpse oil version? Brilliant, marinate it while it's hot, and the flying zombie will be just around the corner."

However, the person next door wasn't so interested in painting the wall.

"Splat." A lump of black mud was smeared on the mask she had just painted, and the brocade costume instantly became a rag.

"My face! My silkworm silk!" the painted skin shrieked, the embroidery needle in its hand flying out in fright.

"Ding!"

The embroidery needle first pierced the coffin lid of the bitter tree, which it was so proud of, sending sparks flying.

"Who? Who's trying to nail my bed to the ground?"

Kumu turned his head blankly, not even having a chance to promote his coffin space.

The embroidery needle rebounded from the force, refracting at an even more cunning angle towards the roof, snapping the string of the erhu played by the sixth senior brother, Ghost Cry.

The broken string, like a whip, lashed fiercely across the face of the wailing ghost.

"A terrible omen..." Ghost cried, covering his face, and rolled off the roof, landing right on Gu Santong, who was fast asleep under a tree.

Gu Santong was having a wonderful dream, opening his mouth to catch a drop of the century-old fine wine seeping from the gourd's spout.

Before even taking a sip of the wine, he ended up with a mouthful of old bird droppings that had fallen from the roof.

Immediately afterwards, Ghost Cry sat on him, breaking the hemp rope binding his gourd.

Rolling around—

His large blue wine gourd, which he cherished as his life, rolled away and knocked a hole in a sharp rock, spilling its rich wine all over the ground.

"My liquor! My back! What a mess!"

Before Gu Santong's wailing had even subsided, Su Xiu, who had rushed over with account books to calculate the losses, was caught in the crossfire.

She was painfully fiddling with the abacus, thinking, "How many spirit stones will I have to pay for this...?"

My foot slipped.

That was a century-old brew leaking from the ancient Santong Bridge, mixed with mud, and even slipperier than kerosene.

"oops!"

Su Xiu fell backward, the golden abacus in her hand flew out and drew a tragic arc in the air before crashing hard into a stone lion by the roadside.

Splash!

The abacus frame broke.

The golden abacus beads, like pearls of all sizes falling onto a jade plate, bounced and rolled into the deep crevices of the ditch, making a crisp yet desperate sound.

"My account! My abacus! It's made of pure gold!"

Su Xiu fell hard on her bottom, but ignored the pain and lay on the edge of the ditch letting out a heart-wrenching scream.

The sound was even more mournful than the wailing of ghosts, enough to break the hearts of anyone who heard it and bring tears to their eyes.

Yu Liang stood at the door, staring at this seamless chain of cause and effect, completely numb.

He only kicked a pebble!

This isn't just a case of cause and effect backlash; it's clearly the arrival of death!

However, the calamity was not over yet.

The startled magpie flapped its wings and rushed out of the treetop, its wingtip unfortunately brushing against the large, millstone-sized beehive under the eaves.

"Buzz—!!!"

Dark clouds loomed overhead.

Those were thousands of thumb-sized, venomous bees with purple-glowing stingers at the back of their tails.

This bee is extremely venomous. It usually lies dormant, but once it breaks out of its nest, it will fight to the death.

Yu Liang froze on the spot, his back instantly soaked with cold sweat.

escape?

Where can we escape to?

This is a complete dead end!

The swarm of bees swooped down like a black hurricane, and when it was only three inches from Yu Liang's nose, it strangely split up.

They bypassed Yu Liang.

It was as if they had avoided a mass of indescribable, highly toxic filth.

Even the mindless poisonous bees disliked the pungent, foul-smelling aura of "divine retribution" emanating from him.

The swarm of bees circled once, their compound eyes locking onto a group of bald men meditating in the square—they were full of youthful vigor and were the perfect targets.

"ah--!!"

A scream erupted.

But the screams quickly took a turn for the worse.

Despite his swollen head and hands covering his groin, Wang Yi stood tall and roared at the panicked disciples, "Why are you running?! Stop right there!"

"This is the 'Tribulation of Ten Thousand Needles Piercing the Body' summoned by my master! The stinger of the poisonous bee contains paralyzing fire poison, which can be used to temper our meridians and indestructible bodies!"

"Anyone who runs away is a coward! Anyone who runs away will be expelled from the sect!"

"Want to become stronger? Want to reclaim your dignity? Then let this storm rage even fiercer!"

Wang Yi opened his arms and actively approached the swarm of bees, a martyr-like smile on his face.

The masochistic mechanism was triggered.

The fear in the eyes of the twenty-two bald disciples faded, replaced by a chilling madness.

"Come on! Sting me!"

"Steal here! My flesh is thick here!"

"Awesome! This feels great! I feel like my bottleneck has loosened up!"

On Zizhu Peak Square, a group of bald men, their heads swollen like pigs', were chasing after poisonous bees, begging to be tortured.

Zizhu Peak has become a "land of bad luck".

Birds that fly by will surely fall, disciples patrolling the mountain will surely trip and fall on flat ground, and even the surrounding spiritual energy seems to turn into suffocating waste gas.

The victims of the previous chain of disasters also got up.

Hongyao, covered in black mud; Guiku, whose face was swollen from being slapped; Moju, whose mechanical arm was broken; Huapi, whose makeup was completely ruined; Atuo, with wet, messy hair, still retching; Suxiu, lying on the ground, feeling sorry for the abacus beads; and Gu Santong, clutching his old back, feeling sorry for the wine.

They all looked disheveled and menacing at the instigator of it all.

But when they saw Yu Liang's face, which looked worse than crying, and the ominous aura of bad luck surrounding him that seemed to have solidified into reality, everyone tacitly retreated three feet away.

This isn't a junior brother, this is clearly a walking plague!

"Well... my disciple, I suddenly remembered I have a drinking party to attend..."

Gu Santong, clutching the leaking gourd, ran faster than a rabbit, shouting, "Take care of yourself!"

"I remembered that my spirit seed has not been buried yet!" Tu San instantly burrowed back into the ground.

"I'm going to repair the Crescent Blade!"

"I'm going to wash my face!"

"This chef is going to take a bath! This damn muddy water!" Ah Tuo spat angrily, though what he spat out was mud.

"Don't run away! Someone help me get my abacus beads out!" Su Xiu cried out.

The senior students scattered like birds and beasts, afraid of getting involved in even the slightest karmic debt.

Yu Liang stood alone in the courtyard, looking at the mess on the ground, feeling like crying but having no tears.