For the next few months, Han Tian Yi became a shadow moving between two worlds.
In secret, he sent the Yu Clan everything.
The number of Han Clan's elite forces. The rotation of their patrols. The blind spots in their formations.
The weaknesses hidden inside their cultivation techniques. The terrain of the Han Clan's territory—where spiritual veins were thin, where defenses were weakest, where ambushes would be most effective.
Every detail that could shatter his clan, he handed over piece by piece.
And every time the exchange was made, the Yu Clan sent him a reward.
One ancient scripture.
At first, they were fragmented, incomplete, and difficult to decipher. But with each trade, the texts grew older… deeper… more forbidden.
Han Tian Yi accepted them all with trembling hands and burning eyes.
Until the final exchange.
The last information he gave was the most damning of all—
A method to assassinate his parents.
In return, the Yu Clan sent him a single item.
An eerie scripture bound in dried human skin.
The surface was cold, yet faintly warm to the touch, as if it still remembered its former owner. Strange symbols crawled across it like living scars. The moment Han Tian Yi held it, his heart thundered in his chest.
Then he laughed.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! IT'S FINALLY HERE!!!!!!"
The sound echoed through the empty chamber like the cry of a madman.
He knew—This was the key.
That very night, he packed only what he needed. He transferred vast amounts of spirit currency into portable storage and concealed spatial rings. Enough wealth to sustain him for lifetimes among mortals.
By dawn, he went to see his parents.
"Father… Mother…" He lowered his head, his voice heavy with false sorrow. "Looking back… I think I'm more suited to the mortal world."
They looked at him in surprise.
"I'm already twenty-one. I only have eighty years left…" He forced a bitter smile. "I want to travel while I still can. See the world before I disappear into dust."
For a moment, the hall fell silent.
Then Han Fei Yu stood and laughed warmly, patting his son on the back.
"Hohohoho! Of course, my son! If this is your wish, then go—live freely!"
He handed Han Tian Yi a small spatial pouch filled with gold coins used by mortals.
"Take this. Even if you bought the entire mortal world, it would still not be empty."
Han Tian Yi bowed deeply, hiding the glint of madness in his eyes.
Soon after, the clan elders opened a dimensional gate leading to the lower realm.
A brilliant rift tore open the air, its edges shimmering with law and light.
Han Tian Yi stepped toward it.
Behind him stood his family. Before him waited his future.
And in his sleeve, hidden close to his heart—
The scripture made of human skin.
When he stepped through the dimensional rift, the air around him shifted.
The suffocating pressure of the Immortal Realm vanished, replaced by the thin, ordinary atmosphere of the mortal world. The spiritual energy here was almost nonexistent—so weak that even the lowest outer disciple would sneer at it. Yet to Han Tian Yi, this place felt strangely calm.
He chose a remote area far from any bustling city.
There, he bought a humble estate—its walls plain, its gate simple, and its courtyard wide enough to grow vegetables and herbs. It was not grand, yet not small either. Just enough for one man who wished to hide from the world.
To maintain appearances, he hired five servants to prepare his meals, manage daily necessities, and keep the house spotless. He also employed two bodyguards—warriors considered peak experts in the mortal world, capable of killing hundreds of ordinary soldiers with their bare hands.
Afterward, he purchased everything he needed.
Clothes.
Furniture.
Bedding.
Utensils.
Lanterns, storage chests, and medicine cabinets.
Only when every corner of the house felt complete did he finally lock the gate behind him and retreat into his study.
There, beneath the dim glow of a single lamp, Han Tian Yi opened the eerie scripture.
The pages were rough, cold, and faintly warm, as if alive. Strange symbols twisted across the surface like crawling shadows. Every line described forbidden methods—rituals to reverse fate, to twist constitutions, to turn curses into foundations.
It spoke of negative body constitutions…
Of abandoned vessels…
Of bodies despised even by the heavens.
Then he reached the very last page.
His eyes froze.
Cursed Body Constitution.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"Hm… so I need to refine ten heaven-defying talents to make my body return to that of a normal person?"
A soft chuckle escaped his lips.
"Hehe… alright. This is worth a try."
But then his brows knit together.
"How am I supposed to refine others when I can't even cultivate myself?" He clenched his fist, frustration flashing through his eyes.
"…How troublesome."
He soon made his way to a place known in this world as the Black Market Pavilion—a hidden district where information was bought and sold like livestock.
Here, there were no morals.
Only prices.
Inside a dim, smoke-filled room, he met an informant—an ugly, hunched old man with yellowed teeth and greedy eyes.
"I need a list." Han Tian Yi said calmly. "People who can refine anything without asking questions. Money is not an issue."
The old man's eyes lit up.
"Hehehehe… young master, you've come to the right place~"
From beneath his counter, he carefully slid out a parchment list and handed it to him.
Han Tian Yi skimmed through it once.
"Can you contact them? The price doesn't matter. I only need ten successful refinements. Payment will be given for each one."
Before coming here, he had deliberately dressed in expensive robes, jade ornaments, and a spatial pouch stitched with gold threads. He looked like a pampered young master from a powerful clan.
This was not arrogance.
It was survival.
If he came dressed poorly into a place like this—while openly speaking of money—he would be killed before he could leave the street. He knew his own weakness. He was nothing but a mortal who could not cultivate, no matter how hard he tried.
The old man's gaze lingered on Han Tian Yi's clothes, rings, and belt.
Expensive… very expensive…
This brat must belong to a respectable clan. I should not offend him.
Outwardly, he bowed and smiled.
"Of course, young master~ We'll contact them immediately. Please return in one week."
It was common sense in the black market—never provoke someone who might have a powerful clan behind them. One mistake could erase an entire organization for the sake of a single young master.
Han Tian Yi nodded. "How much?"
The old man's lips curled into a greedy grin. Just because he couldn't rob him didn't mean he couldn't extort him.
"Hehehe… that would be one hundred gold coins, young master… including our manpower fee."
The usual price was ten.
Han Tian Yi did not even blink.
He took out a pouch and tossed it onto the table. It clinked heavily.
Inside were five hundred gold coins.
"Get it done properly," he said coldly, "and I won't be stingy."
Then he turned and left.
The old man stared at the pouch in silence.
Five hundred gold coins—Enough to feed a mortal family for three generations.
Yet this youth had thrown it like a spare change.
"…He truly is a young master of a great clan." the old man muttered.
Han Tian Yi understood something very well:
One does not need strength to survive—Only the appearance of it.
And what did powerful people have in abundance?
Money.
To him, five hundred gold coins was nothing. His father had given him a mountain of wealth.
And he would gladly trade a fraction of it— For his life, and for his revenge.
When Han Tian Yi stepped out of the Black Market Pavilion, the two bodyguards he had hired immediately approached him and bowed.
Of course, he had bought them.
He was nothing more than a mortal.
No matter how sharp his mind was, no matter how exceptional he was at hand-to-hand combat, he possessed no spiritual energy at all—not even the thin trace that ordinary mortals had. His physical strength was pitiful, no different from that of a ten-year-old child, despite already being twenty.
What was the point of hiring protection if he did not intend to use it?
Without wasting time, they returned straight to his estate.
For the next seven days, Han Tian Yi never stepped outside the gate.
He remained inside his house, reading, planning, and waiting.
To him, going out meant inviting danger.
In this world, there were countless ways for him to die—robbed, kidnapped, silenced, or simply erased for knowing too much. As a powerless mortal, every street was a battlefield he could not survive.
So he chose the safest path.
To hide.
Exactly one week later, Han Tian Yi returned to the Black Market Pavilion.
Inside, the same ugly old man from before awaited him. But beside the man stood someone entirely different.
A demonic cultivator.
Even at a glance, it was clear he was not of the righteous path—the faint scent of blood and malice hung around him like a cloak. His eyes glinted with a predatory light, and his aura carried a subtle pressure that unsettled ordinary mortals.
"This is a refinement master, young master~" the old man said quickly. "He's perfect for your needs, though… he is quite expensive."
Han Tian Yi only nodded.
"Money isn't a problem." he said plainly.
The demonic cultivator bowed slightly. "Then I will follow you, young master."
When they arrived at Han Tian Yi's estate, the cultivator finally introduced himself.
"I am Shen Tong, young master~"
Han Tian Yi's expression remained neutral. He led Shen Tong inside, stopping in the study.
"I will now tell you what I need you to refine." he said calmly. "What you must refine into a pill is a human. Every time you succeed, I will pay you immediately. This arrangement will continue until you have successfully refined ten for me."
He paused, letting the weight of his words hang in the room.
"But for now, I still lack the necessary ingredients. So I will pay you fifty gold coins per day without you needing to do anything. Consider it a retainer. You may choose any room in the house to use for your work—just do not disturb me unnecessarily."
With that, he left Shen Tong in the care of his servants, stepping back into the shadows of his estate.
The arrangement was set.
And with every careful step, Han Tian Yi drew closer to bending this mortal world to his will.
A week earlier, Han Tian Yi had already commissioned a notorious assassination agency to deliver him one thing—
Every famous gifted individual in the mortal world.
The price was absurd.
Ten thousand gold coins per person.
But he paid without hesitation.
Two days later, the first "delivery" arrived.
A masked man appeared at the gate, carrying a small child who could not be more than seven years old. His eyes were terrified, his body trembling.
"This is the young master of the Luo Clan." the masked man said flatly. "He is said to possess a blessed constitution."
Han Tian Yi examined the child carefully, as if inspecting a rare treasure.
Then he nodded.
Without even counting, he handed over a pouch filled with ten thousand gold coins.
"Bring me another one immediately." he said calmly. "As fast as you can."
The masked man vanished.
Han Tian Yi turned away, his mind already racing.
He had to move quickly.
This person he took came from a respected family and the person that will likely be deliver to him will come from another respective clan. Once even a single trace led back to him, death would be the least of his worries. Even with two peak bodyguards guarding him, his safety was never guaranteed.
The boy suddenly struggled.
"You demon!!!" he screamed. "Just you wait! My father will kill you! You'll regret touching me!"
Han Tian Yi's expression did not change.
He grabbed the child and tossed him toward Shen Tong.
"Refine him into a pill." he said coldly.
The child froze.
"P-pill? Me? You demon! Even as a vengeful spirit, I will haunt you!"
Han Tian Yi did not answer.
To him, this was necessary.
If he did not do this, he would remain a mortal forever.
Without another word, Shen Tong threw the child into the demonic cauldron.
The lid slammed shut.
The screams that followed were horrifying.
Agonized cries echoed through the chamber as flesh and bone were burned alive, refined by demonic fire. The sound slowly faded… until there was only silence.
The refinement succeeded.
Shen Tong presented a dark pill still steaming with heat.
Han Tian Yi swallowed it immediately.
His body trembled.
A strange warmth spread through his veins.
He exhaled slowly.
"Only nine left…"
A faint smile curved his lips.
Even Shen Tong shivered when he saw the expression on this young man's face.
This was not a mortal.
This was a monster being born.