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But now that things had come to this, there was no use in overthinking. Zhang Ning smoothly proceeded to the next three steps. He bowed toward the chamber where Chu Hanyu usually resided and spoke aloud, “Today, Zhang Ning respectfully takes Chu Hanyu, the 137th generation sect leader of the Great Freedom Demon Sect of the Azure Realm, as his master. From this day forward… um… uh…” Zhang Ning faltered slightly. He had been tense all along, and with so little time to prepare, merely memorizing the steps was challenging enough; he had no mental energy left to come up with the right words.

This was truly the first time Zhang Ning had learned about this apprenticeship ceremony—not that he had deliberately forgotten! It was unfair to accuse him!

Zhang Ning knew he was supposed to express some grand “future aspirations and ambitions” for the third step of the ritual, but honestly, he didn’t know what to say. From now on, he would truly be settled in the Great Freedom Demon Sect. Everything felt so unreal, so hollow. After a moment’s thought, he said, “In the future, Zhang Ning will certainly honor his master with filial piety, cherish his senior brothers, and serve the Great Freedom Demon Sect diligently!” Though Zhang Ning’s words were rather plain, the disciples below erupted into cheers so loud they seemed about to shake the entire sect. Meanwhile, Chu Hanyu, who had been calmly tending to the alchemy room, was caught completely off guard and nearly ruined his furnace in surprise.

As Zhang Ning stepped down from the high platform, he was completely unaware of how tense the atmosphere had been among his senior brothers moments before or what had transpired. He felt as if he had just ridden a roller coaster—passing through a nerve-wracking yet exhilarating moment, now only left with a rush of exhilaration. He called out joyfully, “Second Senior Brother, Third Senior Brother, Fourth Senior Brother!” and then bowed to each in turn.

He had never addressed them so formally nor bowed one by one before. Zhuge Yi and Han Zhifei were momentarily taken aback but quickly helped steady him. Then Ming Chen and the others quietly slipped various things into Zhang Ning’s arms. What surprised Zhang Ning most was Fourth Senior Brother Han Zhifei—he had already given him a meeting gift, and quite a few at that. Yet this time, he gave him something again. “Senior Brother, how is your treasury holding up? Are you just about ready to give yourself away to me?” Zhang Ning thought to himself.

Overwhelmed with gratitude, Zhang Ning couldn’t help but smile foolishly, offering no eloquent words. After thanking his senior brothers, he looked toward Chu Hanyu’s chamber with a gaze full of moving hope.

***

Night was halfway through.

The thick-browed, big-eyed servant pushed open Zhang Ning’s door and knelt, saying, “Greetings, Your Highness!”

He was dust-covered and bloodshot-eyed—none other than Yu Zhong, long unseen.

Yu Zhong apologized, “I have failed in my duties, Your Highness. To this day, I have not found any trace of the Golden-Furred Lion Saint. I am unworthy of your trust. Please punish me as you see fit!”

Zhang Ning responded calmly, “There are some matters in this world beyond human ability. You must not be too harsh on yourself.” With that, Zhang Ning waved for Yu Zhong to rise, though Yu Zhong remained kneeling. Zhang Ning had anticipated this and did not press further.

Zhang Ning had many sources of information, so he knew Yu Zhong’s recent behavior could be described, perhaps inappropriately, as that of a mad dog. After Zhang Ning’s attempted assassination, Yu Zhong had frantically scoured every corner in revenge and investigation. Unfortunately, he was doomed never to find the “ringleader” Golden-Furred Lion Saint—how could someone dead leave any trace?

Indeed, Zhang Ning had confirmed that the remains he had casually taken from the cave in the Ten Thousand Great Mountains were those of the Golden-Furred Lion Saint, the one who had ordered Steel Thorn and Yun Ke to hunt him down.

Zhang Ning wasn’t sure if it was coincidence, but he felt that the one who had fought fiercely with his master in that battle must have been the Golden-Furred Lion Saint. Connecting the dots, his earlier absurd and strangely romantic speculations about Chu Hanyu’s true state gradually faded.

However, Zhang Ning understood his master had reasons for keeping this matter quiet. For two warriors of the same rank to have a duel that had to be shrouded in secrecy indicated hidden complexities. Fortunately, after Zhang Ning “transformed,” he had erased all traces of the battle, leaving only a chaotic scene with no hint of the Golden-Furred Lion Saint.

In truth, Zhang Ning’s actions had been a subconscious protection of Chu Hanyu. But after the ceremony, his mindset shifted—he felt that allowing the rumor that the Golden-Furred Lion Saint still lived and might strike again to persist could keep his subordinates and disciples alert. It was not a bad thing. Thus, Zhang Ning had no plans to reveal the truth for now.

Of course, Zhang Ning had not called Yu Zhong back merely out of concern. He had important business for him.

Looking into Yu Zhong’s familiar thick-browed, big-eyed face, Zhang Ning saw a trace of dim remorse. Suppressing his unease, he spoke sternly, “Yu Zhong, I am giving you a chance to redeem yourself.”

Yu Zhong trembled, a glimmer of hope flashing in his eyes. Bowing deeply, he said solemnly, “Your Highness, please command!”

Zhang Ning said, “This matter is of the utmost importance. You must keep it a secret. No matter who asks in the future, you must bear the pressure and never waver in your words—no matter who the pressure comes from, even if it comes from my master!”

A look of disbelief flickered across Yu Zhong’s eyes, then his expression hardened, like a razor-sharp sword eagerly held in hand, ready to be drawn. He repeated Zhang Ning’s exact words without hesitation: “Your Highness, please command!”

Satisfied, Zhang Ning began to quietly give instructions.

***

Great Freedom Demon Sect

Chen Palace

Inside Ming Chen’s room, a scene reminiscent of a certain previous night unfolded. Chu Hanyu stood silently by the bed of his second disciple, Ming Chen. However, unlike Zhuge Yi and Zhang Ning, who had been peacefully asleep then, Ming Chen sat impudently on the bedside, lazily confronting Chu Hanyu. Moonlight fell upon his eyes, which reflected the sharp glint of a vast, magnificent sword.

Ming Chen said, “Master, do you need something from your disciple?” Though he addressed Chu Hanyu as “Master,” a sneer of contempt curled at his lips, and a sinister aura seeped from his expression.

Chu Hanyu stood tall by Ming Chen’s bed. Even faced with Ming Chen’s attitude, he showed no sign of wavering, though his eyes betrayed an ineffable emotion. After a long silence, he finally spoke, “Chen…”

Though his voice was low and gentle, to Ming Chen it sounded like thunder crashing. Ming Chen, as if struck on a hidden nerve, suddenly leapt from the bed, fury blazing uncontrollably. “Chen? You call me Chen? By what right do you call me Chen?! You’re not worthy! The only one who should call me Chen is already dead—killed by you!!!”