"A way out…"
Prince Yi's heartbeat quickened at Fang Han's words. Among all the imperial princes, he wasn't the outstanding one—not by a long shot. The reason he'd been so desperate to prepare a grand gift for Linglong Immortal Venerable's birthday was simple: to curry favor with the Linglong Blessed Land. If he could marry even one of their female cultivators as a consort, his status would skyrocket.
But openly offending the Supreme One Sect? That was something he never dared consider.
Yet Fang Han now proposed offering the Golden Core of Zhao Xuanyi—one of the Supreme One Sect's geniuses—as a birthday tribute. Yes, Linglong Immortal Venerable would be delighted, but the Supreme One Sect would be enraged.
Still… Linglong Immortal Venerable was infamous for protecting her own. Anyone under her wing became untouchable. If he gained her blessing, his entire life would be free of calamity.
"Give her the Golden Core," Fang Han continued, "and you gain a mountain to lean on. But you'll offend the Supreme One Sect in the process. Risk and reward come as a pair. And right now, Prince Yi, your power is simply too small. Even with my help, you can't win the imperial throne as things stand. Fortune comes from daring. I'm offering you a chance. It's your choice. Regardless, I'm definitely bringing this Golden Core to Linglong Blessed Land."
He put the Golden Core away.
He had no intention of refining Song Wuyi's Golden Core. First, because every divine ability within it was something he already possessed. Second, even if he formed a Golden Core himself, he couldn't refine it yet—not before he dealt with the Nine Ghost Souls. Third, gifting this to Linglong Immortal Venerable would earn him a far greater return than consuming it ever could.
Maximizing benefit—this was Fang Han's constant philosophy.
"Let me think about it," Prince Yi said, unable to decide immediately. "For now, let's discuss something else. Seven days from now, the princes are entering an ancient ruin. Could I ask for your help?"
"I've heard of this," Fang Han replied. "Prince Sa mentioned your royal elders discovered it. What exactly is the place? Dangers?"
The Daqian Empire's royal clan was nothing like mortal empires; they possessed hidden strength so deep that even Golden Core cultivators tread carefully. Even under the Supreme One Sect's jurisdiction, the empire retained tremendous autonomy—though they paid enormous annual tributes of pills and treasures.
"It's on a foreign star," Prince Yi explained. "Our elders found an ancient battle site underground, then activated a dormant teleportation array using vast amounts of spiritual energy. It opened a gate through time and space, leading to a strange stellar world brimming with treasures. But there are powerful beasts, demons, and bizarre mysteries inside. This expedition is both trial and test."
"Oh?" Fang Han thought. "A place like the Five Elements Realm."
The Great World of Xuanhuang had countless ancient ruins and teleportation remnants. Even the Abyss of Ruin was one example; the Barbarian God Temple was another, linking directly to the Five Elements Realm. Every discovered site held unimaginable opportunities.
"This trip could improve my strength," Prince Yi said. "But I'm too weak to gain much on my own. I had planned to join Master Xiaoyue's group, but with your help, I can move freely."
"Hua Tiandu—will he escort Prince Feng as well?" Fang Han asked.
"It's very possible."
"In that case, I'll go with you," Fang Han decided. He had intended to deliver a message to the Starry Gate, but escorting Prince Yi into the ancient ruin first might yield unexpected treasures. Currently, he lacked almost everything—clean, empty, broke.
"Excellent!" Prince Yi slapped the table and rose. "I've stationed men to watch every movement in Prince Feng's manor. The moment there's news about Hua Tiandu, you'll be informed."
Fang Han nodded and went to meditate.
The next few days passed quietly. He circulated his qi, restoring vigor while continuously feeding energy into the Kunpeng Egg. The moment the Great Devouring Formation finished evolving, all would change.
Once the Great Devouring Art matured, it would allow limitless growth—surpassing even Meng Shaobai's Kunpeng Soul Body.
Seven days flashed by. Fang Han conserved all his strength. He didn't refine a Nascent Soul Pill; instead, he stored massive amounts of celestial essence throughout his meridians, letting it blend with blood and spirit.
He would gather every drop of strength—then attempt the Golden Core breakthrough in one decisive strike.
"Yan," Fang Han asked, "with our current disguise, there's no chance Hua Tiandu recognizes me, correct?"
"Absolutely none," Yan replied. "I swallowed 1.3 million pounds of Nine Yang Sacred Water. I still can't form the Bridge of No Return, but I've unlocked several hidden arts for concealing aura and altering form. The demonic path thrives on deception. Hua Tiandu isn't in the Longevity Realm—he won't see through this. Now watch. Transform! Ha! The Yellow Springs Diagram has a formation called the Reincarnation Mask—meant for altering face, aura, posture… as if you've reincarnated entirely. A thousand changes!"
The Yellow Springs Diagram shimmered—and transformed into a green demonic robe. It draped over Fang Han, instantly altering his entire presence. He now appeared like a gentle, frail scholar.
His face warped subtly, his aura softened. A cultured, refined young intellectual—nothing like his original self.
No one would recognize him.
"The Yellow Springs Emperor created the Way of Reincarnation," Yan said proudly. "He spent centuries among mortals, disguising himself as scholar, farmer, merchant, official, general… no one ever saw through him. This formula comes from his experience. With minor adjustments, you'll pass unchecked. Your new name shall be… The Mortal-Slaying Scholar. One of the Emperor's old mortal-world nicknames."
"The 'Mortal-Slaying Scholar'? Sounds like it'll attract attention. Won't some ancient relic recognize it?"
"It was only used among mortals. Cultivators have never heard it."
"In that case, fine. What about the Nebula Baby?"
"Him? What disguise? He should stay in the Sun-Moon Five-Star Bracelet and sleep. That's the right path."
Just as Fang Han finished preparing, Prince Yi hurried inside—and stopped dead.
"You…" He stared, speechless. He had assumed a stranger had walked into his room.
"Prince Yi," Fang Han said, his voice transformed by demonic resonance into something completely unrecognizable, "from today onward, I am the Mortal-Slaying Scholar—a rogue cultivator of dubious origins."
The disguise was perfect.
"Remarkable," Prince Yi said, stunned. "This transformation… even I wouldn't suspect it."
"Today our royal youths gather," he continued. "We're heading to the ancient ruins beneath the capital. Time to go."
"No problem," Fang Han said. "Let's move."
—
At the center of Xuanhuang City lay a vast plaza dominated by a towering ceremonial pillar. Radiant streaks descended constantly from the sky—royal descendants arriving one after another. Those in golden robes were direct bloodline princes; others with coiled-dragon belts were collateral nobles.
The entire imperial clan were cultivators—many with power rivaling that of a medium-tier immortal sect.
This strength was what allowed them to rule a nation of hundreds of billions.
"Thirteenth Brother," a voice called, "I hear Twenty-Fourth Brother recruited a powerful expert—someone who crippled Lord Azure Ram with a single strike. Is that true?"
In the crowd stood a man around thirty—calm yet carrying natural authority, refined yet daunting. He drew every gaze like a star in the night sky.
This was Prince Yi—but not the one Fang Han served. This was the Prince Yi who reigned as the empire's strongest royal cultivator.
Around him, princes gathered like courtiers around a king.
"It's true," one prince said—a fierce, broad-shouldered youth with sharp eyes and the aura of a seasoned warrior. "That man struck like lightning. One move, and Lord Azure Ram—a Golden Core expert—was crippled before he could self-destruct. Definitely a high-level demonic cultivator."
This prince was the Thirteenth Prince: Prince Zhan.
"A technique that prevents a Golden Core from self-detonating…" the older Prince Yi murmured. "There aren't many arts like that."
"Look, Twenty-Fourth Brother is here," Prince Zhan said.
"Let's meet him." Prince Yi floated upward like drifting silk, graceful yet unstoppable.
Prince Yi—the one Fang Han served—tensed. "He's coming. Be cautious. Fourth Brother's strength is terrifying."
"No need to worry," Fang Han said calmly, observing the incoming figure. "But he is interesting."
Prince Yi descended in front of them, eyes bright with curiosity.
"I heard Twenty-Fourth Brother recruited a remarkable expert," Prince Yi said. "That must be you."
Fang Han bowed slightly, snapping open a jade fan with elegant flair. "I am the Mortal-Slaying Scholar, Your Highness. I've long admired your reputation."
For the briefest moment, Prince Yi's gaze wavered—some small, subtle doubt flickering and dissolving almost instantly.
As if the person before him was not the one he'd expected at all.