Li Luoning sat beside Mi Xingzhe, one palm pressed lightly to Mi's back, the other steadying Mi's wrist. Chaotic spiritual energy surged through Mi's body in wild waves—hot, sharp, untrained—threatening to burst out again at any moment.
Li Luoning kept his breathing slow and even, feeding his own inner power into the turbulence like a calm current forced through rapids.
Only after a long while did the violent fluctuations finally ease.
Li Luoning drew a quiet breath, checked Mi Xingzhe's pulse again, then touched his forehead—cooler now, steady. Satisfied, he rose.
Yun Qingyi, who had been standing nearby all night, hurried over the moment his master moved.
He leaned close to the bed, worry written plainly across his face.
"Xingzhe? Xingzhe?" Yun Qingyi called softly, giving Mi's arm a gentle push.
A moment later, Mi's eyelashes fluttered.
Slowly, he opened his eyes.
Li Luoning's voice came calm and measured. "Awake?"
Yun Qingyi helped Mi Xingzhe sit up and lean against the bedside. Mi blinked at the two of them as though seeing them for the first time, his expression blank with confusion.
"Why are both of you here?"
Yun Qingyi exhaled, half relieved, half exasperated. "Last night you nearly blew open the entire Mirror Cloud Residence. The Immortal Herb must have finally taken effect. Master and I stayed here all night to watch over you. Thankfully, you're awake now."
Mi's eyes widened. "Ah? I didn't hurt you or Master, did I?"
Yun Qingyi gave him a helpless look. "No. We're not that fragile." His expression softened as he looked Mi over. "But you were unconscious most of the day. It's good you're awake."
Li Luoning's gaze remained steady. "Do you feel any discomfort?"
Mi Xingzhe rolled his shoulders, moved his neck, then pressed a hand lightly over his chest. Something there—near his heart—felt different. Not painful. Not exactly warm.
Just… present.
Then, suddenly, heat surged behind his eyes.
Mi rubbed them hard, startled. "My eyes— they're burning."
Li Luoning's expression sharpened. "Come here. Let me see."
He pulled Mi closer.
Mi opened his eyes on instinct—and for a brief instant, golden light flashed from his pupils, quick as lightning.
Li Luoning froze.
Then he moved at once, fingers returning to Mi's pulse, spiritual power sweeping in a careful probe toward Mi's heart.
His breath caught.
"…Celestial Golden Elixir."
Mi blinked again. For a heartbeat, a golden mark flickered through his pupils. Something even finer—a faint, hidden golden pattern—glimmered at the back of his neck, then vanished as if it had never existed.
Mi's eyes returned to their usual color.
He stared blankly. "Ah?"
Li Luoning's face shifted from surprise to something very close to joy. He nodded slowly, as if confirming an answer he'd been searching for.
"So the Immortal Herb didn't merely help you form an inner core… it awakened this." His smile was small but genuine. "You truly have a profound connection to the celestial gates."
Mi looked even more confused. "What is a Celestial Golden Elixir? Is it… something powerful?"
Yun Qingyi's eyes were sparkling like he'd just witnessed a miracle. "Master—are you saying he doesn't just have an inner core now, but a golden core?"
Li Luoning nodded. "Exactly."
Mi's gaze bounced between them. "Brother Qingyi, is it really that powerful? You both look happier than I am."
Yun Qingyi couldn't hold back his grin. "Of course it's powerful. In the entire Liao Yin Immortal Realm, people born with a Celestial Golden Elixir are exceedingly rare." His excitement rose with every word. "If you cultivate diligently, you might even surpass me."
Mi blinked, incredulous. "How many people have it?"
Yun Qingyi frowned in thought, counting in his head. "According to records… the Celestial Master has it. Uncle Mu Han as well…"
Mi counted on his fingers, stunned. "So few?"
Yun Qingyi leaned closer, voice dropping as if he were telling a secret too valuable to speak loudly. "Do you understand how rare this is? Even War God Qingyuan only has an ordinary celestial elixir. What you have now is a treasure."
Mi followed Yun Qingyi's glance without meaning to.
Master…?
Mi turned toward Li Luoning, eyes wide with a silent question.
Li Luoning only smiled and gave a slight nod.
The confirmation hit Mi Xingzhe like a weight.
The room suddenly felt too small, too bright, too unreal. He lowered his head, overwhelmed—quiet as if any sound might break what had just been given.
Yun Qingyi frowned. "What's wrong? You have an inner core now—you won't fade into nothingness. That's something to celebrate. Why the long face?"
Mi's voice came out hoarse. "I… don't want this Celestial Golden Elixir."
Yun Qingyi stared. "Don't want it? What are you saying?"
Li Luoning's calm cracked into confusion. "Why not?"
Mi kept his head lowered. "Because… I just don't want it."
He didn't say I don't deserve it.
He didn't say I'm afraid.
But both of them could hear those words anyway.
Yun Qingyi's voice softened, coaxing. "Brother Xingzhe, are you being foolish? Do you know how many people would trade their lives for a Celestial Golden Elixir and still never obtain one? Even I envy you." He patted Mi's shoulder gently. "Master went through great lengths for you. If you refuse so casually… aren't you afraid you'll hurt him?"
Li Luoning's gaze sharpened, his tone turning more serious. "Xingzhe. Why exactly do you not want to keep it?"
Li Luoning truly didn't understand. Was this boy simply too ignorant to recognize fortune?
Or—
Mi Xingzhe hesitated, throat tightening.
In his mind, old memories rose like knives: being laughed at, shoved, beaten, called worthless—taught by the world that having nothing meant no one could take anything from you.
He wanted the golden core more than anyone.
But wanting something was dangerous.
Possessing something was worse.
Mi finally forced the fear into one sentence.
"Could… could it be stolen?"
Li Luoning's eyes softened at once. A faint ache tightened in his chest—understanding striking where logic hadn't.
He answered honestly. "Yes."
Mi's voice dropped. "Could I… give it to someone else?"
Li Luoning didn't lie. "It's possible."
Mi swallowed hard, fingers curling against the blanket. "Is it too late to remove it now?"
Li Luoning's tone turned unusually stern—like a door slammed shut. "If it is forcibly removed now, you will dissolve into nothingness."
Mi's pupils dilated.
His breath caught.
So it wasn't just precious.
It was now his life.
Li Luoning watched the fear bloom on his face, then continued—slower, deliberate, placing a path in front of him.
"But if you cultivate diligently and gain strength, you won't need to fear theft."
Mi's emotions rose and fell in waves—relief, then panic, then relief again—as if Li Luoning were turning the knife and then pulling it back.
Mi whispered, raw and defeated, "But… I don't know anything."
Yun Qingyi leaned closer, voice warm and steady. "You can learn. What are you afraid of with Master here? And I'll teach you too. With your Master and senior brother by your side—both you and your golden core are safe."
He added quietly, firm as a promise. "We'll protect you."
Mi's lips trembled. "But… but I'm too foolish. I can't learn…"
Li Luoning's voice softened. "Nian."
Mi froze.
This was the first time Li Luoning had called him that—intimate, familial, the kind of name used only by people who claimed you as their own.
Mi blinked, stunned. "Master… are you calling me?"
Li Luoning nodded. "Your sect name is Yun Wan Nian. 'Nian'' is your informal name within the sect." His gaze held Mi's, calm and gentle. "Do you like it when I call you that?"
Mi's throat tightened.
He nodded quickly. "I like it."
He had heard that only family used nicknames like that.
No one had ever spoken to him like family.
Li Luoning's voice remained quiet, but the reassurance in it was unmistakable.
"If you like it, I'll keep calling you that." He paused, then said plainly, "I know what you're afraid of. But you must understand—you are not foolish."
Mi's eyes flickered up.
"Before, as an ethereal body, it was difficult for you to learn and act as ordinary people do. Now that you have this golden core, it will compensate for what your body lacked." Li Luoning's tone grew firmer. "It will improve you as you cultivate."
Mi latched onto the one point that mattered most.
His voice carried a fragile hope. "So… you mean I can become smarter?"
Yun Qingyi jumped in immediately, smiling. "Not only smarter. It may awaken abilities you never knew you had." His grin widened. "Maybe one day you'll even surpass Master."
Mi stared at Li Luoning, half terrified by the thought. "How could I possibly surpass Master?"
Li Luoning only smiled gently—neither confirming nor denying, as if he refused to set a ceiling over Mi's head.
Then his expression sobered.
"However."
He looked at Mi Xingzhe seriously, letting the weight of the next words sink in.
"The fact that you possess a Celestial Golden Elixir must never be shared with others." His voice was low, controlled, protective. "Human nature is unpredictable. You must guard yourself."
Mi nodded, swallowing hard. "I understand."
That night, deep within Wuming Demon Mountain, the demon lord Li Minghan dismissed his attendants and returned to his private chamber.
He removed the black cloak draped over his shoulders and approached a hanging painting. Lifting it revealed a hidden ring pull.
He tugged it gently.
A secret door opened with a slow creak.
Li Minghan took a candle and stepped into the narrow passageway, the darkness swallowing him in layers. The air grew colder as he descended, the walls damp with old stone.
At the end waited a heavy iron door.
With a flick of his fingers, it swung open.
A dim chamber revealed itself.
Chains clinked softly.
A man lay restrained within the shadowed space, disheveled, gaunt, eyes hollow with fury. Though his robes had once been rich, time and confinement had reduced them to rumpled remnants of dignity.
This was Shentu Zhajia—the true ruler of the demon realm.
Li Minghan's voice—masked and cold—echoed lightly.
"Brother. Long time no see."
Shentu Zhajia's eyes blazed. The chains rattled as he surged forward as far as they allowed.
"Li Minghan!" he snarled, each word soaked in venom. "Despicable fiend. I once called you brother—and you repay me by killing my father, stealing my throne, taking my kingdom!"
His voice rose, shaking the chamber. "You thieving cur!"
Li Minghan only smiled faintly, bored, as if he'd heard the same complaint too many times.
"Why are you so angry?" he said lazily, twisting a lock of hair around his finger. "I'm merely borrowing your identity as Demon Lord for a while. Once my goals are achieved, I'll return the title to you. "
"If I ever escape this dungeon," Shentu Zhajia ground out, "I'll tear you limb from limb."
Li Minghan's laugh was soft—almost affectionate.
"Ah, brother. Your temper hasn't changed." He stepped closer, candlelight sliding across the mask. "And I've told you many times—I never intended to harm the old Demon Lord."
His voice turned colder, sharper at the edges.
"He pushed too far."
A pause.
"I simply needed the power of your demon realm."
Shentu Zhajia shook with rage, words failing him. "You—!"
Li Minghan tilted his head, considering him the way one might consider an animal in a cage.
"Brother." His tone was slow, threatening in its calm. "The entire demon realm—and Vanli Valley—relies on your continued survival."
He leaned closer.
"But if you refuse to cooperate… I can't guarantee I won't do something drastic."
Shentu Zhajia roared, voice thundering. "If you dare harm my demon kin, I swear I'll flay your skin and drink your blood—make you die screaming!"
Li Minghan clicked his tongue.
"Tsk, tsk." His voice turned almost disappointed. "You're spoiling the mood. I came all this way from a busy schedule, and you're still so irritable."
He lifted a finger.
"Perhaps you'd be better off asleep."
A dark spell shot from his fingertip and struck Shentu Zhajia between the brows.
Shentu Zhajia's body went limp, collapsing to the floor like a severed marionette.
Li Minghan watched him fall without expression.
Then he stepped forward, waved his hand, and levitated Shentu Zhajia gently onto a narrow bed within the chamber.
He drew the blanket up, tucking it over him with slow, almost careful movements.
Leaning close, Li Minghan whispered, voice quiet as the candle's breath:
"Brother… don't blame me."