Outside the window, Heroine Yue hung upside-down from the eaves of the waterside pavilion, gnashing her teeth in rage.0

As expected, there’s a dog!1

The window paper was silently pierced, and a thin tube snuck in, puffing in a cloud of knockout smoke. With a wave of her hand, the heroine summoned a swarm of mosquitoes to surge through the pipe, a thick black cloud of them buzzing forward.0

In a flash of red, she vanished into the darkness.0

From afar, Ling Ruoyu, who had secretly trailed behind to observe and learn, was struck speechless in awe. Is this really my master?0

Alas, this little stunt of spite had no real effect on the adulterous pair inside.0

The knockout smoke was ineffective, and the mosquitoes nurtured by the Spirit Tribe could not approach. Zhao Changhe swept them all away with a single thought. All it achieved was a moment of loud buzzing and the declaration that their affair had been exposed.0

That alone should have been satisfying enough, as it should have created a bit of discomfort that would kill the mood and interrupt their entanglement. Or so Yue Hongling had thought. Unfortunately, the shameless couple within could not care less. They swatted the mosquitoes dead and carried right on.0

To Zhao Changhe, tonight’s dual cultivation held a significance far beyond mere intimacy with the long-neglected Wanzhuang.0

Earlier that evening, he had felt the weight of the passing years, a rare resonance with the rhythm of cultivation. Yet, amid chaos, he had not found time to settle down and reflect. Now, with all quiet and still, that fleeting moment of clarity was rekindled.0

He had touched time itself through the Heavenly Tome, and he had even traversed the great river of time and fate. But none of it compared to this—this visceral, immediate realization. One moment asleep, and old comrades were now white-haired elders surrounded by their grandchildren… Meanwhile, Wanzhuang stood unchanged, serene and radiant. That brief heartbeat of...0