The situation surrounding Zhou Huan was undeniably tense. Everyone from Fushou Hall had rushed back, surrounding him, watching as the sweat poured ceaselessly from his body, unable to be stopped by any effort.

“Senior Brother Bingyuan, you have the highest skill here. What is happening to Master? Can you figure out a solution?” Tianxiong was genuinely panicked now, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears; if he couldn't restrain himself, they would surely begin to stream down.

Shi Bingyuan stared intently at Zhou Huan, placing a hand on his forehead before checking his pulse. He then placed his other hand directly on Zhou Huan's Baihui acupoint at the crown of his head. The moment he pressed down, Shi Bingyuan felt an intense, icy coldness, like frost, immediately followed by numbness, a complete loss of sensation. “Ah!” Shi Bingyuan pulled his hand away quickly, cradling it with the other hand, which was now terribly cold. “Master’s head is expelling profound cold energy! I can’t tell what’s wrong with him right now, but my hand!” Shi Bingyuan rolled on the ground in pain. In moments, his hand began to turn purple, then red, swelling up, before finally returning to normal—a process that took barely ten minutes.

“What is happening? Why would this be? How can there be such severe cold poison inside Master’s body?” Although Hong Kun wasn't certain if it was exactly 'cold poison' or some other unique condition, he understood that Zhou Huan was in a state of suspended animation, not truly dead. “Brother Bingyuan, remember that client we took on in the provincial capital? He had this exact issue. Neither you nor I could figure out a solution then, and we finally managed to help him by slowly wiping his body with hot water.”

Shi Bingyuan steadied his breathing, wiggled his hand to confirm it seemed unharmed, and wiped the sweat from his brow. “I remember that incident. But that time, there was a known cause. This time, Master collapsed suddenly, with absolutely no warning, and we can’t even find the reason why he fell.”

“Wait, Brother Huan once had an incident where he intentionally bumped into a tree. That was when his past life manifested. He ended up bleeding heavily then, and Old Song saved him. But he didn't bump any trees this time; he was just standing in the courtyard, chatting with me, and then he collapsed,” Xiao He explained, knitting his brows tightly. He worried that Zhou Huan might have been suffering from some physical ailment he was hiding, but knowing Zhou Huan, he would never conceal an illness. Furthermore, if that were the case, he would surely be secretly preparing and taking his own medicine.

Dongzi scratched his head, looking at Da Luobo, who looked toward Yang Xiaoling. The group exchanged glances, equally baffled and helpless.

Shi Bingyuan pulled Xiao He out of Dongzi’s room and whispered, “Quasi-Mistress, I must tell you, Master’s condition is extremely tricky. If we don't try to save him, I fear he might never wake up. But if we try to save him, we don't know if this method will even work.”

“Save him. If there is even a sliver of hope, we must try. Sending him to a hospital would likely be useless anyway—just IV drips and injections, without a shred of vitality,” Wang Xiaohe asserted before asking Shi Bingyuan, “How do we proceed? You tell us!”

“Listen, in a moment…” Shi Bingyuan explained the procedure for treating Zhou Huan. In truth, he was improvising, trying anything, and had no certainty it would awaken Zhou Huan. He then called out to Tianxiong and Hong Kun, “You two set up an altar at the doorway of Dongzi’s room. Form a Seven-Star Dou Immortal Array to prevent Master’s soul from wandering to an unfavorable place.” Afterward, he instructed Dongzi and Da Luobo to go to the kitchen to boil water, while Yang Xiaoling and Wang Xiaohe were to wipe Zhou Huan’s body. Shi Bingyuan himself brought a meditation cushion and sat down in Dongzi’s room, beginning to form hand seals and chant the Soul Invocation Mantra.

The activity in Fushou Hall was frantic. The moon in the sky grew redder and redder, though very few people understood the significance of this Crimson Moon; there was a profound reason behind it.

The sudden collapse of Zhou Huan had been summoned by the Crimson Moon. His soul felt ethereal as it drifted out through his Baihui acupoint, carried by the wind straight toward the red celestial body.

After a period of soaring flight, passing through veils of cloud and mist in the night sky, Zhou Huan felt as if he were immersed in a realm of immortals. Beneath his feet stretched an endless sea of clouds, and above, the sight of a Heavenly Palace emerged. The palace was shrouded within the clouds, constantly accompanied by the harmonious sound of celestial music—truly a sonic baptism that allowed the soul to spread its wings.

When Zhou Huan looked down, he saw that his feet rested upon auspicious cloud, beneath which flowed a stream of icy spring water, emanating a chill so penetrating it made him tremble all over. Looking further ahead, he realized unconsciously that he was flying above a vast palace. Two levels higher, another, even larger and more resplendent palace materialized before him. Purple clouds swirled around this place, and the immortal energy was even denser. Above the central entrance of the grand hall hung a large plaque inscribed with a single character: “Dao.”

Zhou Huan observed intently when, suddenly, a voice echoed robustly from the center of the hall: “Zhou Huan, welcome to the Hall of Morality.” The sound seemed to vanish just as quickly, and an old man suddenly appeared beside Zhou Huan, leaning heavily on a staff, his back severely stooped, his eyes almost entirely closed—only a thin slit remained visible. A spiral of purple auspicious cloud coiled around his body.

“Who is this elder?” Zhou Huan performed a respectful bow and cupped his hands.

The old man chuckled even harder. “Zhou Huan, Zhou Huan. What am I to say about you? You don't even recognize such a famous figure as myself—that’s absurd!”

Zhou Huan was taken aback that the man spoke so plainly, especially in what seemed to be an immortal realm. He thought that people here sounded so unsophisticated and uneducated.

“Boy, don't think I don't know what you’re thinking. Daring to call me unsophisticated and uneducated? You think you’re cultured, not even recognizing someone as important as me?” The elder seemed slightly agitated, though his expression remained generally pleasant.

Hearing the elder’s tone shift, and recognizing this as the Celestial Realm, Zhou Huan knew arguing was pointless. He wiped a bead of sweat from his brow. “Zhou Huan is ignorant. I truly do not know who Your Excellency is; please enlighten me.”

“Idiot, I am Old…”

“What? Uncle, just say what you mean, don’t cut yourself off. What is it with you?” Zhou Huan pressed on.

This time, the old man was truly angered. He gathered the purple clouds surrounding him, sat upon them, and settled himself firmly. “With an IQ like yours, you still take on disciples? Let me tell you, my name is Laozi. Have you ever heard of the Dao De Jing? I am the original author!”

“So, it is Master Laozi! My deepest apologies, my deepest apologies. However, the depictions of you below are nothing like this; people draw you in all sorts of bizarre ways.” Zhou Huan spoke truthfully, as this old man did not resemble the images he had seen in books or museums. If this man claimed to be Laozi, it was likely true, given the purple clouds and the Daoist robes he wore, which were clearly extraordinary. This realization made Zhou Huan relax considerably.

“Zhou Huan, young fellow, listen closely. Your ability to reach this place is a matter of destiny between us. When you return, there are only two things you must attend to. First, you must help find the arm of the female corpse, as this concerns your karma. The second matter is…” Laozi paused, falling silent.

Zhou Huan watched Laozi, who seemed hesitant to speak freely. “Master Laozi, please do tell me. What is the other matter? Since you have something to say, just speak plainly.”

“The other matter is personal. I originally intended to handle it myself, but I must enter seclusion these next few days to prepare for the Celestial Assembly next month. However, this personal matter cannot wait, so I cannot be in two places at once. I must call upon someone who is not only linked to this affair by destiny but also possesses the ability and aptitude to handle it.”

“Then, Master Laozi, are you saying I’m the one?”

“Precisely. Absolutely. In that case, I will grant you a boost of power. You can search for the female corpse's arm when you return. Go handle my task first. Let’s go; I’ll give you a push. Here, in my domain, only flight speed is unmatched; everything else is nothing.” As he spoke, Laozi lifted a hand: “Go!”

Instantly, the auspicious cloud beneath Zhou Huan turned purple, the icy spring water temporarily vanished, and he shot forward as if fired from a bow, soaring rapidly away from Laozi’s hall, moving farther and farther into the distance.

Laozi watched the direction Zhou Huan flew, breaking out in a cold sweat. “It’s over. With the Crimson Moon ascendant, I used too little power. This fellow has been sent to the wrong place! This is like a meat dumpling being hit by a dog, or pissing on a dead man—utterly wasted effort! Freezing cold!”