If I stay in the Hehuan Sect, I'll live off the pampered daughters of the Heavenly Pride Sect.

The morning wind howled mournfully on the mountainside of Burial Immortal Plain.

The wind swirled up withered fallen leaves and blew past the mottled stone tablet covered in moss.

Xie Buci knelt quietly in the mud.

His hands, which were usually used to holding folding fans and seemed to only know how to strum the strings of a zither, were trembling slightly at this moment.

He ran his fingertips over the rough surface of the stone tablet, gently wiping away the damp soil from the inscription "Tomb of Senior Brother Li Dingguo".

His pretense and playfulness had completely vanished, leaving only a deathly stillness in his eyes, worn smooth by the sands of time.

Not far behind him, Mo Chengyue held his breath and stood still like a wooden statue.

Qin Wanzhuang gripped the hilt of the Lieyang Sword tightly, her knuckles turning white.

Wenren Ji lowered his head, and the broken sword in his arms emitted a low, faint hum.

The four female cultivators fell silent.

Yu Jianhuan put away her habitual fawning smile, Su Qingying stood ramrod straight, and Jin Qiaoqiao withdrew her arrogant aura as a demon.

Even the usually carefree Lin Miaoyin held her breath while holding her pipa.

No one uttered a sound to break the solemn and tragic atmosphere that had spanned fifty years.

The air was so heavy it felt like you could wring water out of it.

Xie Buci's fingers finally stopped.

He didn't turn around, but simply reached into the depths of his storage bag.

What was taken out was not the lavish wine and spirits they usually pretended to have.

Instead, it was a jar of the lowest quality, crudest, ordinary liquor.

The jar was covered in mud and grime.

He didn't use a single bit of spiritual power; relying solely on his physical strength, he pried open the sealed yellow mud with his bare hands.

A muffled "snap" sounded.

The pungent, spicy liquor, mixed with the earthy smell, quickly dispersed in the mountain breeze.

Xie Buci tilted his wrist and slowly poured the strong liquor onto the black soil in front of the tomb.

The wine seeped into the soil, making a soft swallowing sound.

"Senior Brother."

Xie Buci's voice was hoarse, as if grit had been rubbing against a copper basin.

These three words contain so much exhaustion and repression.

"The liquor was too expensive back then, we couldn't afford it. Today I brought your favorite strong liquor."

He seemed to be talking to himself, or perhaps having a conversation across time and space.

A story buried for half a century, accompanied by the aroma of strong liquor, slowly unfolds on this hillside of ruins.

That year, the Hehuan Sect was far less powerful than it is today.

Disciples from various peaks entering this ruin known as the Asura Field were like sheep among wolves.

Xie Buci that year was just an ignorant young man who had just entered the early stages of Foundation Establishment.

There was no dashing charm, only the fear of facing death.

"It was my senior brother who, with his dulled iron sword, protected me as I struggled to survive in these ruins."

Xie Buci's gaze was somewhat unfocused.

"He stuffed the stolen elixir into my mouth, but he wouldn't even buy himself a complete breastplate."

Mo Chengyue listened, his brows furrowing slightly.

He could imagine the tragic scene of lower-level cultivators huddling together for warmth under the Dark Forest Law.

This pure bond, devoid of self-interest, touched a deep chord within him.

"Until we were deep inside, we discovered an extremely hidden ancient cave."

Xie Buci paused for a moment, seemingly lost in some extremely shocking memory.

"There, the eldest brother pulled something out."

He turned around and glanced at Qin Wanzhuang and Mo Chengyue.

"That was a weapon that made all demons submit and all monsters tremble in fear."

"The Human Emperor's natal weapon—the Li Ting Mace."

Upon hearing this, the breaths of everyone behind him suddenly stopped.

Qin Wanzhuang's pupils contracted sharply, and she murmured involuntarily.

"Li Ting Mace? You mean...?"

Mo Chengyue's mind flashed back to the scene a few days ago when Xie Buci instantly killed Gu Lie.

That terrifying long mace, covered in rust, then bursting forth with a sky full of golden lightning.

He always believed that it was a trump card inheritance bestowed upon his senior brother by some reclusive master of the sect.

It might even be a love token given to Xie Buci by one of his lovers outside.

Little did they expect that this weapon of death was actually a fortuitous opportunity created by the former senior disciple of Qingquan Peak at the cost of his life.

Extreme shock flashed in Jin Qiaoqiao's eyes.

As a transformed demon, she knew better than anyone what a human imperial artifact meant.

That would be enough to change the entire power structure of Zhongzhou.

And this very thing was actually encountered by two low-level disciples of the Hehuan Sect fifty years ago.

"That was both an opportunity and a death sentence."

Xie Buci gave a self-deprecating twitch at the corner of his mouth, which looked worse than crying.

"The imperial artifact has appeared, and golden lightning has broken through the layers of restrictions on the cave."

"The light was so bright that it illuminated half the sky above the ruins."

He gulped down a mouthful of cheap liquor, letting the liquid run down his chin and into his clothes.

"This commotion attracted the demon race's elite—the Plain White Banner."

"The flag bearer leading the team is Guile, the one whose head I chopped off."

Upon hearing the name "Gu Lie," the expressions of the four female cultivators and Mo Chengyue all became extremely solemn.

That demon leader who, just a few days ago, brutally slaughtered rogue cultivators on the plains and devoured them alive.

That ruthless style of treating human life as worthless is still vivid in my mind.

"The demons are plotting to invade Zhongzhou again, and they desperately crave the power of the Imperial Artifacts."

Xie Buci gritted his teeth, the muscles in his cheeks twitching irregularly.

"Gu Lie led over a hundred demon soldiers and sealed off all escape routes from the cave."

"They've trapped dozens of our fellow disciples from Qingquan Peak in a desperate situation."

A chill crept up Mo Chengyue's spine.

Surrounded by hundreds of elite demon soldiers, the opponent also had overwhelming combat power.

This is an unsolvable dead end.

Even now, if he were faced with that kind of situation, he could only close his eyes and wait for death.

"A few days ago, that old dog Gu Lie used the incident of my senior brother kneeling to insult my Dao heart."

Xie Buci suddenly crushed the half-empty wine jar in his hand.

The clay shards pierced deep into his palm, and blood dripped down mixed with the dirt.

He seemed not to feel any pain.

He said his senior brother was a coward who feared death and knelt on the ground begging for his life.

Xie Buci's eyes were bloodshot, burning with a frenzied hatred.

"Bullshit!"

This was the first time this usually gentle and refined senior brother had uttered such vulgar language.

"My senior brother, Li Dingguo, is a sword cultivator whose backbone is even harder than an imperial weapon!"

"If he were alone, even if he fought to his last drop of blood, torn to pieces by ten thousand demons, he wouldn't even flinch!"

Xie Buci's voice was violently torn apart by extreme pain.

"But...but we are behind him."

"They were dozens of junior brothers and sisters who were so frightened that they could barely hold their swords."

Qin Wanzhuang's body began to tremble slightly.

She vaguely guessed the cruelest answer, but dared not think about it too much.

"Gulie is stepping on the heads of his fellow disciples, and the blade is right at my neck."

"He forced the senior brother to put down his sword."

"Force him to kneel down and hand over the imperial weapon in exchange for our lives."

Xie Buci abruptly closed his eyes, and two lines of clear tears mingled with blood slid down his cheeks.

The images from fifty years ago gnawed at his soul like a malignant tumor.

"Our senior brother is watching us."

"That proud man, to the core, saved us good-for-nothings..."

"He bent his knees in humiliation, little by little."