Tianyuan Sea, Soul Wraith Island.
On the most remote beach of the island, a dozen or so thatched huts were scattered haphazardly.
This was the living quarters for the menial disciples of Soul Wraith Island, a place rarely visited by anyone.
A young man looked around warily, threading carefully between the huts, his expression as tense as a startled rabbit.
Every step he took was feather-light, terrified of making even the slightest sound.
Reaching a secluded corner and confirming no one was around, he crouched down and cautiously pulled out a small green bottle from his robes.
The bottle was perfectly round, glinting with a cold light under the moonlight, its surface engraved with leaf patterns.
The young man gently pulled out the stopper, moving with extreme slowness and care, as if cradling a fragile treasure.
A single drop of emerald liquid slowly dripped from the bottle, landing on a spiritual herb before him.
That herb had been planted just over a month ago, its leaves tender and fragile-looking, as if it couldn’t withstand a breeze.
But the moment the liquid fell, the herb seemed to come alive. The entire plant trembled violently, its roots burrowing wildly downward while its stems and leaves stretched upward with desperate energy.
An emerald glow rippled through the leaves, and the herb visibly shot up, thickened, branched out, and blossomed at a visible pace.
In just a few moments, a seedling planted barely a month ago had directly matured into a century-old spiritual herb.
The fragrance of medicinal herbs filled the air.
The young man let out a long breath, his face brimming with barely contained joy.
He quickly tucked the small green bottle back into his robes, pressing it close to his body, patted it to make sure it was secure, and then reached out to harvest the herb.
Instinctively, he glanced left and right.
That look made his entire body freeze stiff.
Someone had appeared before him without warning.
A living person stood just three steps away from him, yet he hadn’t sensed even a hint of their presence before.
The young man’s eyes shot up.
Before him stood an old man with black hair, a gaunt face, and slightly wrinkled skin. His murky, aged eyes occasionally flickered with a dark gleam, exuding authority without anger. He wore a wide-sleeved, loose robe, pitch black with no flashy adornments, standing there silently as if melded into the surrounding darkness.
The young man’s pupils contracted sharply as his mind raced through every high-ranking figure on the island, instantly recognizing the person before him.
His legs went weak with fear. With a thud, he fell to his knees, burying his head low until his forehead nearly touched the ground.
“D-Disciple Han Lin pays respects to… to the Grand Ancestor.”
His voice trembled.
The old man before him was none other than the sole ancestor of Soul Wraith Island, the peak early Nascent Soul cultivator—Grand Ancestor Jiuyou!
Across the entire island, from inner sect elders to menial disciples, no one dared to look him in the eye or speak his name directly. He was the absolute authority, holding the power of life and death with a single thought.
“Hehehe…”
Jiuyou let out a few sinister chuckles, his voice hoarse like rusted iron scraping, yet carrying an undeniable majesty.
“I thought my lifespan was running out and I’d be stuck at early Nascent Soul, with no hope of advancing further. I never expected to encounter such an opportunity in the menial quarters.”
He looked down at the kneeling young man, his gaze as indifferent as if regarding an ant. His eyes flickered with a dark gleam, fixed directly on the young man’s chest.
His divine sense, like an invisible net, instantly enveloped the area within several zhang, easily piercing through Han Lin’s robes to probe the green jade bottle at his chest, which radiated an odd aura.
“Since you’re a disciple of my Soul Wraith Island, I’ll give you a quick death.”
Terror flooded Han Lin’s eyes, his body shaking like a sieve. He wanted to flee, but his legs felt leaden, refusing to move.
“G-Grand Ancestor, what are you talking about? Disciple doesn’t understand…”
His voice quavered, his words jumbled.
“Under my divine sense, your insignificant little tricks dare to show off before an expert?”
Jiuyou couldn’t be bothered with more nonsense.
A dark cyan glow of mana gathered in his palm, and the temperature around plummeted, fine frost forming in the air.
He reached out and grabbed.
In an instant, a bony hand seized Han Lin’s head, five fingers clamping down like iron bands.
Han Lin let out a scream, thrashing desperately, swinging his arms wildly, trying to pry the hand off—but it didn’t budge.
Jiuyou didn’t kill him outright.
With a thought, he directly employed a soul-snatching secret technique.
A chilling force stabbed into Han Lin’s mind, like countless needles piercing his soul simultaneously.
“Agh…”
Han Lin struggled fiercely, but the mana locked him in place, immobile. A searing pain tore through his soul, and he screamed a few times, his voice weakening until it fell silent.
His eyes went blank, and his body slumped.
“So that’s how it is. So that’s how it is!”
Jiuyou released his grip, and Han Lin’s corpse crumpled to the ground like a rag.
With a wave of his hand, dark cyan mana probed into Han Lin’s robes, retrieving the small green bottle, which floated slowly into his grasp.
The bottle lay quietly in his palm, gleaming coldly under the moonlight.
“It can ignore the flow of time and directly ripen a one-month-old seedling into a century-old spiritual herb?”
Jiuyou examined the bottle in his hand repeatedly, a blazing heat filling his murky old eyes.
“Such a supreme treasure is truly rare in this world, unheard of!”
His heart stirred, and he closed his eyes to organize the memories he’d extracted.
That boy’s cultivation was too low, just a mere Qi Refining menial disciple with few spiritual herbs to practice on. His use of the bottle was extremely limited.
Only one drop could condense each day, and the bottle could hold no more than a single drop at a time. It needed sunlight and moonlight essence, and wouldn’t produce if kept in the dark. The liquid couldn’t be stored either—once out of the bottle, it would dissipate within half a stick of incense.
Beyond that, the boy knew nothing.
To learn more, Jiuyou would have to study it himself.
Jiuyou opened his eyes and casually collected the century-old spiritual herb he’d ripened, intending to see later how it differed from ordinary century-old herbs.
Then, with a wave of his hand, a ball of dark cyan flame landed on Han Lin’s corpse.
The fire burned silently, reducing the body to ashes in moments, leaving nothing behind—not even bone fragments.
A sea breeze blew, scattering the ashes cleanly.
Jiuyou’s figure flickered and vanished from among the huts.
Moments later, he returned to the highest point of Soul Wraith Island.
This was his main hall, the most spiritually rich spot on the island, and his residence as the sole ancestor.
The hall was built against the mountain, sprawling across a vast area, surrounded by layers of restrictive arrays. Ordinary disciples wouldn’t dare approach. Within it lay an extremely hidden cave dwelling, cloaked by a concealment array.
He entered the cave and waved his hand casually, the stone door behind him slamming shut, sealing off all external aura.
Jiuyou strode straight into the cultivation chamber.
The chamber was small, sparsely furnished with only a stone bed, a stone table, and a few meditation cushions.
He didn’t test it right away. Instead, he placed the small green bottle on a stone platform in the chamber.
Above the platform, a natural hole let moonlight stream in, perfect for absorbing sun and moon essence.
Recalling the information from the soul snatch, he tapped the stone platform rhythmically with his fingers.
“One drop daily, needs sun and moon essence, liquid can’t be stored…”
He muttered to himself, his gaze shifting.
“Though the restrictions are many, just the ability to ripen spiritual herbs alone makes this a heaven-defying supreme treasure, invaluable beyond measure!”
Jiuyou stood up, paced a few steps in the chamber, and his expression flickered.
“No one besides me can know about this little green bottle.”
He stopped in his tracks, his gaze sharpening.
“If other Nascent Soul old monsters found out, with my current cultivation, I wouldn’t be able to hold on to this treasure.”
He squinted, a hint of anticipation rising in his heart, his voice carrying a touch of weariness.
“I’ve been cultivating for over eight hundred years since I crossed over, possessing both fire and ice dual spiritual roots. I’ve crawled and clawed my way through, facing no bottlenecks from Golden Core and below. I thought I was the protagonist of this world. But now, with my lifespan nearly spent and no way to break through to mid Nascent Soul, I thought I’d never advance again and could only sit here and pass away…”
That was right—Jiuyou was originally a time-traveler. Eight hundred years ago, when he first crossed over to this cultivation world, he had no golden finger, no mentor to shelter him. He had to rely on himself alone, stumbling through every hardship. The countless trials he endured to reach his current realm were known only to him, and his mind had long been assimilated by this cultivation world.
He looked at the small green bottle on the stone platform, and for the first time, a blazing light appeared in his murky old eyes.
“Maybe… this is my heaven-defying opportunity.”
He lifted his head, his gaze seeming to pierce through the cave’s stone walls toward the sky.
“Heavenly Abyss Mountain is rich in Life-Extending Fruits. An ordinary century-old Life-Extending Fruit has little effect on Nascent Soul cultivators. But with this green jade bottle, I can cultivate thousand-year, even ten-thousand-year Life-Extending Fruits!”
Jiuyou’s thoughts raced.
“A thousand-year Life-Extending Fruit can extend a Nascent Soul cultivator’s life by a hundred years. If I can cultivate a ten-thousand-year one… how many years could it extend?”
The more he thought about it, the more feasible it seemed. The corners of his mouth curled up, revealing a sinister smile.
“Two hundred years? Three hundred? With that time, I might not be able to charge toward late Nascent Soul, or even…”
He didn’t finish.
Just then, his divine sense keenly detected a disturbance outside.
Someone had arrived.
And the newcomer’s aura was not weak.
Soon, a panicked, high-pitched voice came from outside the cave.
“Grand Ancestor! Grand Ancestor! Senior Blood Vine of the Ten Thousand Blood Sect has come to visit!”
It was the gatekeeper disciple’s voice, sounding quite flustered.
Jiuyou’s brow instantly furrowed, his smile vanishing, replaced by displeasure and confusion.
“Why did that old blockhead suddenly come?”
He muttered under his breath, countless guesses flashing through his mind.
“Ten Thousand Blood Sect and my Soul Wraith Island rarely interact. This man wouldn’t come without a reason. Could it be for the upcoming Three Alliance War, or is he eyeing the Life-Extending Fruits of Heavenly Abyss Mountain?”
Jiuyou waved his hand, tucking the small green bottle deep into his storage pouch. He checked again to confirm no traces remained, then nodded in satisfaction.
His figure flickered, and in an instant, he appeared outside the cave.
Moonlight spilled down, the sea wind howled.
Outside the cave, a figure was waiting silently.