Midnight. Across the vast, cold, dark lake, a boat sliced through the waves like an arrow loosed from a bow.

Aboard this vessel, a middle-aged man in a threadbare padded jacket, his hair unkempt, radiated the light of innate true essence, striking the lake surface to propel the boat forward at speed. On the boat sat another figure: one draped in a robe of azure bordered with black stripes, a long sword sheathed on his back.

Silver-haired, handsome as a youth! It was Zhao Danchen!

Beside him stood a magnificent black Nightmare Steed. A moment passed— The boat reached the shore.

"Elder Zhao." The boatman, dressed in rags with an unremarkable face, possessed a voice deep and resonant. "This time, as you go to kill that Teng Qingshan...

I adhere to the Ancestor Master's command and cannot accompany you. However, Elder Zhao, I implore you, you must capture Teng Qingshan alive.

If you do not torture him mercilessly, torture him to death... this knot of resentment in my heart cannot be untied." The boatman's gaze was fierce, like that of a raging lion.

"Gu Yong, if I can capture Teng Qingshan alive, I certainly will. If I cannot, I will kill him," Zhao Danchen nodded.

"But Gu Yong, the Ancestor Master assigned you this role as boatman to temper your disposition. Your desire to kill him swiftly—no one faults you for that.

However, if this hatred festers in your heart, preventing you from settling down to cultivate, that would be a grave mistake." "I understand!" The boatman said gravely, "I understand the logic, but putting it into practice... is too difficult.

I have always aspired to make Green Lake Island stronger, yet I have become a sinner to Green Lake Island! I am a sinner!

And my son, Shiyou, he is dead. And tens of thousands of Silver Flood Dragon Army soldiers, all dead, all dead!" "If that is the case, this time, I will certainly slay Teng Qingshan." Zhao Danchen sighed, "Gu Yong, your aptitude is the highest among the current generation of disciples on Green Lake Island!

The Ancestor Master is already advanced in years! Green Lake Island has yet to produce a second Void Realm expert.

If the Ancestor Master reaches the end of his lifespan and we still haven't birthed a Void Realm expert, that will be the most terrifying crisis!" Losing half the Innate experts is not as dangerous as lacking a Void Realm expert. A generational transfer is necessary; the sect must have a Void Realm expert.

"The Ancestor Master wants you to train your swordplay at Sword Edge Mountain, to personally guide you. He places immense hope in you.

As long as you reach the Void Realm! You will be the meritorious servant of Green Lake Island!

The greatest one! Future disciples will never forget you," Zhao Danchen stated solemnly.

The boatman fell silent, but his eyes shone brightly. A Void Realm expert has a lifespan of five hundred years...

enough to guarantee the prosperity of a sect for three to four centuries. If a sect produces three or four Void Realm experts throughout history, it can flourish for over a thousand years.

The multitude of ordinary disciples are bricks and tiles; the Innate experts are the pillars; the Void Realm expert is the foundation supporting the entire structure! Without a Void Realm expert, everything is a castle in the air!

"Hoo!" Zhao Danchen mounted the black Nightmare Steed, pressing his calves to its flanks. The steed immediately neighed, a shadow of black light flickering faintly in its eyes.

Whoosh! The entire horse instantly transformed into a streak of black shadow, vanishing at the end of the path.

"Disposition..." The boatman stood at the prow of the boat, listening. He had heard that although Zhao Danchen had severed his frequently used right arm, diminishing his swordsmanship with his left hand, this setback unexpectedly brought Zhao Danchen some enlightenment.

In just over a month, Zhao Danchen had managed to create an entirely new left-handed sword style built upon his existing techniques. Though the time was short, even if it couldn't match his previous peak, he was confident of placing within the top twenty of the Heavenly Ranking.

"The Ancestor Master wished to break through, he destroyed both his eyes and sat meditating daily on Sword Edge Mountain, ultimately achieving an incredible and terrifying level of strength. And Elder Zhao also lost his right arm, yet achieved a breakthrough," the boatman murmured softly.

There are those who become stronger after being disabled, yes, but that is an extremely rare minority! The vast majority of the disabled, one could almost say 'nearly all' of the disabled, never recover their previous strength.

"Void Realm..." The boatman muttered, simultaneously taking up the oars. The boat began to drift slowly back towards Green Lake Island.

** Midnight, Wu City, Yu Prefecture. In a room in the rear courtyard of a restaurant across the street from the inn where Teng Qingshan resided, candlelight flickered faintly from one of the windows.

Inside the room. Three figures, all dressed in white fur coats: one was a slender, silver-haired elder; another, a tall and robust man; and the third, a beautiful, charming young woman.

They were gathered around a table laden with delicacies, pastries, and other foods. Each had a wine pot before them, pouring drinks for themselves.

"When are the people from Green Lake Island expected to make their move?" the young woman inquired. "Their Innate Golden Core cultivators should arrive before dawn," the robust man stated in a low voice.

"But they certainly won't rely solely on our personnel. So, they will immediately dispatch their forces stationed in the prefectures surrounding Wu City.

Even with the fastest carrier pigeon transmission speed, and even if those stationed forces don't have the Triple Dragon Horses, it will take until dawn for them to arrive. Therefore, they will likely strike during the daylight tomorrow." The slender elder kept his eyes lowered, nibbling a piece of pastry.

"They will probably finish their preparations by tomorrow morning, and they will make their move by noon or afternoon tomorrow!" "It seems we have to wait another day," the young woman sighed helplessly. "What's the big deal about us just killing Teng Qingshan directly?" "It would look bad if word got out.

Our Yu Huang Sect would become Green Lake Island's hired blade!" The slender elder sighed. "Although Teng Qingshan has withdrawn from the Gui Yuan Sect, everyone understands the truth.

Teng Qingshan did that to protect Gui Yuan Sect! Gui Yuan Sect will likely regard Teng Qingshan as even more important.

Don't forget, Gui Yuan Sect also has a Void Realm expert. While we don't fear them...

if there is no need to offend, why provoke them?" "Our Yu Huang Sect is the longest-standing among the Eight Great Sects! Its enduring presence is not solely reliant on military might." The other two nodded in agreement.

Martial power is important, but the sect's conduct matters too. Who on the Nine Provinces Continent dares to look down upon the Yu Huang Sect?

Even the Mani Temple holds apprehension towards the unfathomable Yu Huang Sect. Yet, the people of Yu Huang Sect do not act arrogantly and rarely make enemies.

But if someone dares to provoke them, they will ruthlessly execute their opponent. The principle is that rigidity cannot last; if one is always too arrogant, even the most powerful sect cannot exist for long.

Even the Mani Temple rarely ventures outside the two Western Provinces. Rigidity does not endure; being outwardly gentle but inwardly firm is the true way!

"And the Sect Master's plan is even better: we let the Green Lake Island people kill Teng Qingshan, and then we take the Founding Divine Axe! The Founding Divine Axe was the personal item of the Yu Huang Ancestor; we hold the moral high ground," the slender elder chuckled.

"Righteousness gives one strength! When that time comes, will Green Lake Island dare to keep the Founding Divine Axe for themselves?" ...

The Yu Huang Sect members had long set up a vast net, merely waiting for Green Lake Island to act. Teng Qingshan, at this moment, was completely unaware.

The long night wore on in the inn. Tap!

Tap! Tap!

Teng Qingshan walked down the stairs step by step. The attendant on night duty inside the counter greeted him with a smile, "Honored guest, what would you like to eat?" "Bring me a pot of liquor, Fire Burn Wine, charge it to my account," Teng Qingshan instructed.

"Certainly, honored guest." The attendant immediately fetched a pot of Fire Burn Wine. Although Teng Qingshan had come downstairs, he felt no worry about the cargo crate and clothing trunk left in his room.

This was because he had installed a small mechanism in both trunks: if opened, a bell inside would ring. If even a single chime sounded, within the inn, Teng Qingshan's acutely sensitive six senses would easily detect it.

Carrying the pot of wine, Teng Qingshan returned upstairs to his room. "Creak!" The room door closed.

The room was dark, utterly black, and somewhat cold. Teng Qingshan walked with the wine pot to the window and opened it directly.

"Whoosh!" The frigid winter wind blew onto his body, yet Teng Qingshan seemed oblivious. He sat directly on the window ledge, leaning somewhat languidly against the wall of the frame, one foot propped up on the window sill.

"The Ancestor Worship Festival is approaching! Father, Mother..." As holidays approached, the yearning for loved ones intensified, causing Teng Qingshan to think involuntarily of his kin in Yangzhou—his father and mother, his younger sister, his Master, his dear brothers, and numerous clan members.

Alas, he could not be with them now, forced to remain alone in the small city of Wu in Yu Prefecture. "Xiao Yu and Xiao Yun must be close to marrying soon," a trace of a smile touched Teng Qingshan's lips.

"Once they marry and have children, Father and Mother can help care for them; they will surely be very happy." Teng Qingshan imagined, "The clan members are all settled in Jiangning Prefecture now. Master will surely help look after them.

I also gave Grandpa the 'Vermilion Fruit Wine' and a bank draft for one hundred thousand gold. That should be enough to keep the clan members happy.

For the Ancestor Worship Festival... the six-year-old children in the clan will have their testing again.

I wonder how heavy the heaviest stone lifted by a six-year-old will be this year?" Scenes from the past floated through his mind. In Teng Family Village, the six-year-olds who could lift the one-hundred-jin stone piers...

those who led hunting parties and returned with prey to cheers from the clan... those who silently intimidated the second-in-command of the Iron Mountain Gang under threat, causing him to withdraw voluntarily...

Those scenes were intensely heartwarming. "When I achieve success one day, I too will willingly remain within the clan, or perhaps within the Gui Yuan Sect, guiding the younger generation," Teng Qingshan murmured silently.

"But that is too distant. Too far from where I stand now." A face involuntarily surfaced in Teng Qingshan's mind.

"Qingqing." A faint, sharp ache pierced Teng Qingshan's heart—a pure, untainted maiden, a celestial being in human form. "Little Cat." The strong, cold woman who traversed the world alongside him, who only showed tenderness in his embrace—the woman he loved with his entire life.

"Qingqing, Little Cat..." He wanted to spend his life with both these women. And both were dead!

"Perhaps I was never meant to seek romance." Teng Qingshan threw his head back and poured the strong liquor directly from the pot into his mouth. The Fire Burn Wine rushed down his throat like a stream of fire, instantly warming his entire chest.

The icy night! The fiery wine!

And a heart filled with solitude. Scenes of Little Cat and Qingqing surfaced repeatedly in his mind: moments of shared life-and-death struggles with Little Cat, and tender scenes like crossing the river at night with Qingqing.

Teng Qingshan drank continuously until, he knew not when, the wine pot was empty. Teng Qingshan closed the window and returned to his room, placing the wine pot on the table.

"I indulged in self-pity for a moment just now!" Teng Qingshan took a deep breath, his gaze profound. "The current me should not wallow, nor do I have the right to waste time in decadence!

I must return, return to Yangzhou, return to Jiangning! Only with absolute strength can I return openly!" When part of the merchant convoy, Teng Qingshan could wear a smile, joke with others, and trade risqué remarks; he appeared exceedingly bold because he was a 'Wolf'.

A Wolf! It feels rage, and when truly driven mad, it will fight to the death, sparing no effort to kill the enemy.

When the disparity in strength is too great, it will also endure, holding back until it becomes powerful enough to deliver a crushing bite. Even if wounded, it will seek a secluded place to lick its wounds.

It does not crave pity from others. This is the way of the Wolf.

"The best way to dispel decadence, sorrow, and worry is to keep oneself busy, to leave no time for rumination," Teng Qingshan murmured with his eyes closed, beginning to calm his state of mind. That night...

Teng Qingshan spent it once more practicing the Three Form Stances and engaging in quiet meditation.