Not long after, Luan Jian returned.
"The bodies have been disposed of," Luan Jian said as she laid items out on the ground one by one, speculating, "This should be the infamous Jile Xiaoyaosan, this must be Yang Yan's identity token, this should be an evil cultivation manual of Jile Palace, the effect of this pill bottle is unknown, and this small sword is full of spiritual energy—it doesn't look like it belongs to Jile Palace, most likely left behind by some cultivator they murdered..."
"Ahem, just keep them, I don't want them," Han Feng waved his hand and said with a lack of interest.
"Sect Master, look." Hesitating slightly, Luan Jian pointed at a pouch that looked small and antique, saying, "This is a storage bag from Jile Palace. Years ago, a Palace Master of Jile Palace was well-versed in spatial arts and actually used the wombs of powerful female cultivators as the main material to forge a spatial magical treasure. It was quite unique, capable of even storing living creatures and nurturing life within the bag, which once shook the entire world."
Oh! Wow!
Han Feng was startled.
He understood the word "womb"—it came from *Plain Questions: Treatise on the Five Viscera* in the *Yellow Emperor's Inner Canon*, referring specifically to the female uterus.
Yet, using a female cultivator's uterus to forge a magical treasure?
This Jile Palace was truly evil!
"Even Yang Yan wasn't qualified to possess this thing," Luan Jian continued. "That seductress was one of the so-called saintesses of Jile Palace, which is why she carried such a precious storage bag with her. If Sect Master lacks a storage magical treasure, why not keep it?"
Ugh...
Han Feng frowned. Seeing that the storage bag indeed possessed extraordinary spiritual energy, it was nevertheless engraved with countless spring palace illustrations of men and women making love, thoroughly lewd and embarrassing to look at. He shook his head and said, "Forget it, I don't have that much stuff to carry around with me. Hanging this thing on my belt would be awfully awkward; I'd probably need another storage bag just to hold this storage bag. Matryoshka dolls are no fun—you should keep it."
Very well.
Catching a glimpse of those illustrations, Luan Jian's cheeks also flushed slightly. She thought to herself, if this Sect Master couldn't bear to hang it on himself, could *she* possibly do so?
Yet judging by this Sect Master's previous conduct, hanging this bag on his waist would actually suit him quite well.
At this thought, Luan Jian suddenly grew excited again.
Clearly, the Sect Master was like a completely different person compared to before!
Today's guidance had actually allowed her once more to break through her shackles and truly comprehend the supreme ninth realm of the Wenxin Sword Canon!
All she lacked now was cultivation!
If one day she could refine her elixir and reach the Nascent Soul stage, the power of the swordsmanship in her hands would increase a hundredfold, or even a thousandfold!
By that day, Nascent Soul cultivators across the entire realm could be obliterated with a single sword strike, and even if she encountered old monsters of the Deity Transformation Stage, she might not lack the strength for a fight!
Could it really be that the late sect master's soul had returned to possess him?
Luan Jian reined in her thoughts, her eyes meeting Han Feng's, and finally unable to hold back any longer, she asked with a trembling voice, "Late Sect Master! Could it... could it really be you? Over all these years, after your passing, although this disciple did her utmost, she could still only watch as our Jiushen Sect declined day by day, and the disciples gradually grew disaffected and wanted to defect elsewhere..."
Sigh!
This young woman hasn't had it easy either. She is clearly still very young, yet she bears far too much heavy pressure.
Now that she mistakes me for the late sect master, I might as well just play along and let her feel a bit more at ease.
So Han Feng nodded and said solemnly, "You saw right, but this matter is extremely sensitive—it must never be easily leaked!"
"This disciple understands!" Luan Jian was overjoyed. It really was the late sect master!
That—that is simply wonderful!
With the late sect master around, even if the Jiushen Sect cannot be restored to its peak era, it will definitely sweep away its decline and rise once more!
Yet, upon second thought, Luan Jian felt something was amiss. Gritting her teeth, she still asked cautiously, "Sect Master, please forgive this disciple's offense... Do you still remember how I got this scar on my eyebrow?"
Ugh!
I treat you like a disciple and care for you, but you guard against me like a thief.
This is no fun at all.
Embarrassed, Han Feng put on a stern expression and said, "If I say I've lost my memory, you wouldn't believe it anyway. Alright, I was just joking a moment ago—I am not that late sect master."
Pfft!
You give up quickly enough!
Luan Jian's vision darkened, as if she once again felt the terror of being dominated by that mischievous and chaotic little sect master. The joy that had just risen within her was swept away, and she couldn't help letting out a sigh, looking deeply depressed.
"Let's go, I'll walk you back and sit for a while on your Sword-Asking Peak." Han Feng pointed at the strange peak piercing straight into the clouds.
Huh?
Luan Jian was stunned, thinking to herself that she wasn't injured, so she didn't need an escort.
Is Sword-Asking Peak really the place you want to go?
In a daze, that little demon seemed to have truly returned, filling her heart with suspicion. But after all, she had just received a profound favor, and it was hard to refuse.
Actually, Han Feng's real reason for going to Sword-Asking Peak was to find that last book. He was very curious to see what strange thing would happen once the progress bar maxed out.
If there's no Tathagata Palm, the Eighteen Dragon-Subduing Palms would be fine too.
Along the way, the atmosphere was slightly awkward; neither of them spoke. Soon, they arrived at Luan Jian's residence on Sword-Asking Peak. Luan Jian hurriedly turned back and said with a smile, "Let's leave it at this. Thank you, Sect Master. You... perhaps you should head back to the Main Peak first?"
"Mmm... I'm tired, I'll come in for a cup of water." Han Feng clearly sensed that the wondrous aura was right inside the thatched hut before him, so he stepped right in.
This!
Luan Jian's mind instantly fell into chaos. The Han Feng before her continuously overlapped with her memory of the lustful little brat, leaving her completely at a loss. But suddenly thinking of a severely inappropriate and major matter, her complexion changed drastically, and she hurriedly cried out:
"Stop! You cannot go in!"
However, it was too late.
Following the trace of spiritual light, Han Feng pushed the door open and entered the thatched hut. He saw that the furnishings here were quite simple; in the center of the small room sat a table and a stool carved from mountain stone, with crude craftsmanship that left behind many chisel marks.
It's here!
Han Feng smiled. The scroll of a book he had been searching for lay quietly in the center of the stone table, faintly covered in numerous illustrations, with very few words.
Is it a picture book?
Han Feng reached out to grab the stone table.
Swish!
The pages emitted a sharp piercing sound as Luan Jian, arriving faster than him, snatched it into her hands, employing a technique to retrieve objects from a distance with an extremely anxious expression.
?
Han Feng frowned.
I'm still the Sect Master! Even if I'm not the late sect master, am I not even allowed to read a book?
Why so stingy.
What kind of profound martial arts manual could it be to be so treasured.
Hum!
As Han Feng's thoughts stirred, his left palm, already lustrous and smooth like jade, suddenly emitted a faint chiming sound, as if singing in long-awaited anticipation.
Immediately following this, Luan Jian's complexion changed drastically as she breathed a sigh of relief. She found herself unable to maintain her grip on the thin book; it seemed to suddenly come alive, breaking free from her palm and flying straight toward Han Feng!
"Haha, don't be so stingy. I'll just take a look and return it to you," Han Feng said with a smile while lowering his head.
"You! You are not allowed to look!" Luan Jian was so flustered her voice changed pitch. Her usually cold and fair cheeks were now flushed red enough to bleed. With a flash of her figure, she lunged to snatch the book back.
However, Han Feng had already lowered his head, his gaze falling upon the book, and he instantly froze.
This book... was almost entirely illustrations, and all of them were similar to those on the Jile Palace standard storage bag he had seen earlier—men and women intertwined in every bizarre and varied posture imaginable...
To put it simply, this should just be a very plain spring palace manual.
"This..." Han Feng couldn't help feeling a bit awkward. He certainly hadn't intended to pry into this Sword-Asking Peak Master's private affairs, but now that he had walked through the door and looked at the book, if he said he was only here to fill up his progress bar, would she be willing to believe him?
Whimper!
Luan Jian let out a trembling, startled cry, covered her face with both hands, and turned to run!
As a dignified powerful sword cultivator in the False Nascent Soul Stage, she was so utterly flustered that her foot tripped on the stone steps, and she almost fell. Barely managing to steady herself, she stumbled and flew up on her sword. That snowy-white spirit sword bounced a few times in mid-air, dipping high and low like a wounded helicopter.
Sigh!
What a sin!
I really didn't mean to.
Han Feng didn't pursue her, knowing that chasing after her would only make things more awkward.
Since he was already here, this book might not be proper, but he might as well finish reading it.
When Han Feng read books, he was never picky.
Besides, it was just illustrations, a thin pamphlet of only a few dozen pages. He finished reading it in a flash. Occasionally, he imagined the Sword-Asking Peak Master hiding in her small hut in absolute solitude, blushing as she flipped through these illustrations, wondering how many times they had stirred a spring tide of desire within her... It truly completely shattered that cold and aloof image of a sword cultivator.
Hum!
As Han Feng turned the final page, a strange and familiar roaring sound suddenly echoed in his mind.
Like a giant bronze bell booming, filled with the chanting of heavenly Dao mantras!