The old beggar was so terrified he nearly peed his pants.
What kind of twisted joke was this? How could a powerhouse of this caliber appear in such a barren and deserted province? There had to be some connection—was it related to that bloodstained youth?
The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became. That youth clearly had an extraordinary background. Now, with the arrival of this silver-haired figure radiating a pressure that warped the very air, the old beggar became increasingly certain: this man must be the young one's elder.
Regret hit him like a thunderclap.
What rotten luck! What unforgivable stupidity!
He dropped to his knees with a pitiful expression, groveling with tears in his voice.
"Divine Lord, I don't know what relationship you have with this young friend, but everything that happened earlier was just a misunderstanding. Please, I beg you, be gracious and let me go."
He bowed his head to the ground repeatedly, sniveling like a concubine facing punishment.
In the world of cultivation, each realm carried its own title of honor. A cultivator in the Golden Core Realm was referred to as a True Cultivator. One in the Nascent Soul Realm was known as a True King. And those who had stepped into the legendary Soul Formation Realm were addressed with reverence as Divine Lords.
Right now, in the beggar's eyes, Ye Junlin was nothing short of such a being.
But Ye Junlin didn't even glance at him. He raised his hand casually, as if brushing aside a fly.
Bang!
An invisible force slammed into the old beggar, sending him flying like a rag doll. Blood sprayed from his mouth as his body crashed into the earth. His head struck the ground with a dull crack, half his body buried in the dirt. He passed out instantly.
As the silver-haired young man walked forward step by step, the blood-soaked youth lying on the ground let out a bitter smile.
There was no use resisting. He had nowhere left to run.
Just as that despair took hold of his chest, a soft voice drifted to his ears.
"I'm amazed by your constitution. You are a once-in-a-million-years talent. I would like to take you as my disciple. What do you think?"
The words weren't loud, but in his ears they exploded like divine thunder.
"What?!"
He raised his head in disbelief and stared at the silver-haired young man standing in front of him. His tone had been sincere, his posture calm and reserved.
His thoughts raced.
This man… this cultivator in the Soul Formation Realm… was trying to accept him as a disciple?
Was it a trap?
Could he be after his secrets, and trying a different method to pry them out? But if that were the case, why not just use soul-searching like the last one?
Unless…
Unless he wanted to earn his trust instead. Play the long game. Make him grateful. Let him rise again under his guidance—only to harvest him later when the time was right.
Honestly, it wasn't a ridiculous thought.
As the former leader of a Demonic Cult, he had clawed his way through endless bloodshed to become immortal. He had witnessed the hypocrisy of the so-called righteous path far too many times. Compared to the open cruelty of demonic cultivators, it was the deceitful kindness of those "upstanding" sects that left the worst taste in his mouth.
Of course, he didn't think all cultivators were the same. But Ye Junlin's sudden benevolence aligned far too well with the kind of ploys he'd seen countless times before.
"You're not willing?"
Ye Junlin's tone shifted slightly. It wasn't aggressive, but there was a clear edge now. That faint smile could disappear at any moment.
The youth's heart skipped a beat.
Fine. He understood.
Right now, he was weak. It wasn't time to fight. He would act for now. Endure. Let the trees grow tall again once the roots had healed.
When he recovered his cultivation, the day would come when he called the shots again.
It was just acting. Nothing more.
He forced a respectful tone into his voice and knelt solemnly.
"Disciple Hong Qianye greets Master. To be accepted into your tutelage is the greatest honor of my life."
His words were steady, his expression full of gratitude—convincing enough to fool anyone.
"Good, good! A fine disciple indeed," Ye Junlin said with satisfaction. "Stand up, no need to kneel so long."
He looked him over for a moment, then chuckled. "Hong Qianye… that's a pretty good name. But as your master, I'll just call you Little Hong from now on."
He barely kept himself from bursting into laughter.
Of course he knew this so-called disciple wasn't sincere. It didn't matter. He had completed the task, added a new member to Misty Peak, and earned himself another round of system rewards.
As for rebellion?
He wasn't worried. Because no matter how fast Little Hong grew, he would always be one step ahead.
"Little? Little Hong?!"
Hong Qianye's eyes twitched fiercely.
To be addressed like that—by someone who had never seen the rise of the Flame Demon Cult, never known his past glory—it was humiliating beyond words.
But he kept it in. For now.
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for completing the disciple recruitment task.]
[Reward: Auto Training Mode for Magical Powers has been unlocked!]
[Ding! Congratulations to the host for obtaining: Burial Heaven Coffin!]
— Contains one hundred and eight seals, unlocking progressively as the host's realm improves.
— Currently classified as a third-grade spiritual weapon.
[Burial Heaven Coffin]: Can bury the heavens, the earth, and all things between. Capable of refining living beings. In the later stages, it can even seal entire worlds.
[Ding! The system has detected host talent and granted a bonus reward!]
[Bonus Reward: Fire-type skill — Three Thousand Flame Sutra!]
[Bonus Reward: Fire Origin Pill]
— Repairs a damaged fire spiritual root and creates a supreme cultivation foundation.
[Ding! Mission rewards complete. Is the host satisfied?]
Ye Junlin tried to remain calm on the surface, but inside he was ecstatic.
"Well done. Excellent service attitude. You may leave now."
[Ding! Understood!]
Ye Junlin gave a satisfied nod.
"This… this is the attitude a system should have when dealing with a dignified transmigrator."
He sighed in quiet satisfaction.
This reward was no joke.
Ye Junlin had just unlocked the ability to automatically cultivate all magical powers and techniques he had learned. That meant he no longer needed to spend countless hours manually training them—he could relax and let the system do the work.
It was a massive time-saver.
After all, cultivation was one thing, but mastery of techniques and divine arts had their own independent progress. The power of a spell didn't rely solely on a cultivator's realm. True strength came from how well one had grasped the technique itself.
Each magical art advanced through five levels:
Initiation, Minor Attainment, Major Attainment, Perfected Form, and Transcendence.
At every step, the spell's might multiplied—by tenfold, sometimes even a hundredfold.
This was why mastering divine abilities mattered.
With his strength alone, Ye Junlin could already surpass his realm and kill enemies far above his level. Now, with this auto-training feature, he could lie flat and grow stronger without lifting a finger.
And that wasn't even the best part.
The system had also rewarded him with the Burial Heaven Coffin—just hearing its description made Ye Junlin feel utterly domineering. If the heavens disagreed with him, he'd bury them too.
Even at its current level—a third-grade spiritual weapon—it was more than enough to make him proud in the entire Eastern Region.
Magical weapons were ranked in six major tiers:
Ordinary Magic Weapons, Treasure Weapons, Spiritual Weapons, Mystic Weapons, Immortal Weapons, and Divine Weapons.
Each tier was further split into grades one through nine, with ninth-grade being the peak of that tier.
Most cultivators in the Kunlun Realm would be lucky to touch the threshold of a Treasure Weapon in their entire lives.
As for Spiritual Weapons—they were the playthings of top-tier sect leaders and ancient monsters.
And this Burial Heaven Coffin? It would evolve as Ye Junlin's realm improved, gradually unlocking all one hundred and eight seals.
He couldn't wait to see what it could do once it reached its full power.
"Master! Master!"
Hong Qianye's voice pulled Ye Junlin out of his daydream.
He blinked and looked down. That absurdly beautiful face still held a trace of weariness, but also… something unreadable.
He realized he'd been zoning out.
"Ahem," Ye Junlin coughed lightly. "Little Hong, now that you're my disciple, it's only proper that I give you a technique to help guide your future cultivation."
"Thank you, Master."
Hong Qianye lowered his head and gave a polite bow, but behind that gesture was a flicker of contempt in his eyes.
Hah. This little Soul Formation cultivator actually dares to teach me cultivation?
Let's see what kind of trash technique he's about to toss out.
With a flick of his finger, Ye Junlin sent out a stream of light filled with vast information. It flowed straight into Hong Qianye's Sea of Consciousness.
The transmission was smooth and silent.
"Three Thousand Flames Sutra?" Hong Qianye muttered under his breath.
His brow creased as he subconsciously began examining the contents—only for his entire mind to be violently shaken.
Boom!
His breathing quickened. His cheeks flushed. His body trembled uncontrollably.
"Ah… ah…"
His voice broke as he nearly collapsed under the weight of realization.
Inside his mind, waves of spiritual fire surged as the secrets of the Three Thousand Flames Sutra began unfolding before him.
He was utterly entranced.
And why wouldn't he be?
The Reverse Chaos Fury Flame Technique he had cultivated in the past was already one of the most powerful fire-type techniques in the Central Region. It had been instrumental in helping him rise to the True Immortal Realm.
He had always been proud of it. Certain that, with that technique, he could regain his power and ascend once more.
But now—
After just a glimpse of the Three Thousand Flames Sutra, all his past confidence shattered like glass.
The difference was overwhelming.
His previous technique now felt crude. Shallow. Primitive.
In comparison, the Three Thousand Flames Sutra was a masterpiece—a divine scripture handed down from the heavens themselves.
He was stunned.
"Oh my god… This has to be an Immortal-grade technique… no, maybe even Saint-grade!"
His mind felt light, as if joy itself had overloaded his senses. His expression was dazed, awestruck.
This wasn't just a new technique—it opened the door to a whole new world of fire-based cultivation. It didn't contain just one or two divine arts—it held three thousand fire-type magical powers, each one rising in rank and might.
With this, he could soar.
His cultivation speed would skyrocket. His strength would rise beyond reason.
Return to the True Immortal Realm?
That was only the beginning.
With this technique, he might even surpass his former peak.
Just as he was still marveling, Ye Junlin casually tossed him a small crimson pill.
"Here. This one's for you too."
Hong Qianye caught it, looked down—
And froze.
The color drained from his face. His pupils shrank. His hands trembled.
"This is…"
His voice cracked.
His heart nearly exploded.
"Fire Origin Pill?!!"