My words have become law; I truly have no desire to display my divine power before others.

He was engrossed in watching when he suddenly felt a chill on the back of his foot.

Looking down, he saw a brown squirrel perched on his feet, its two front paws holding his shoelaces, tilting its head to look at him.

The squirrel was small, fluffy, and its tail was as bushy as a feather duster.

The way it looked at him was hard to tell whether it was curiosity or something else.

Before Lü Yang could react, he felt something warm on the back of his foot—a warm liquid seeped into his shoe, wetting his socks and making his toes sticky.

A squirrel urinated on his shoes.

Lu Yang froze.

He looked down at his soaking wet shoe, then looked up at the squirrel.

The squirrel jumped off his feet, squatted down beside him, tilted its head, and still had that same look in its eyes—as if to say: How was it?

A foul odor wafted into my nose.

Lu Yang's face flushed red, and a surge of anger rushed up from his chest.

"Are you crazy?!"

The squirrel was startled by his shout, darted forward two steps, then stopped, looked back at him, scratched the ground with its little paws, and swished its tail.

That expression was clearly a provocation.

Lu Yang's Qi began to circulate unconsciously, flowing from his dantian to his limbs, making him feel much lighter.

He kicked off and pounced on the squirrel.

The squirrel squeaked and turned to run away.

It didn't run fast, as if it was teasing him—but when he was about to catch up, it suddenly accelerated and darted into the grass.

Lu Yang parted the grass, and it reappeared on the rock in front of him, tilting its head to look at him.

Lu Yang gritted his teeth in anger and chased even harder.

He circulated his Qi, moving much faster than usual, but the squirrel was even faster.

Small and agile, it darts and weaves through the grass, making it impossible to catch.

It deliberately chooses to run in difficult places—in thickets of thorns, in crevices of rocks, and under bushes.

Lu Yang was scratched in several places by the thorns, and his clothes were torn.

"Stop right there!"

Of course, the squirrel wouldn't stand still.

It ran down to the bottom of the valley wall, where there was a hole, not too big or too small, just big enough for a squirrel to squeeze in.

Before it darted into the hole, it glanced back at Lü Yang, wagged its tail, and then "whoosh," it disappeared inside.

Lu Yang stood at the cave entrance, panting heavily.

The hole wasn't big; he had to crawl to get in.

He hesitated for a moment—it was pitch black inside, and he had no idea where it led.

But the anger hadn't subsided, the urine on the shoes wasn't dry, and the squirrel's defiant gaze was still lingering in his mind.

He gritted his teeth, lay down, and crawled into the hole.

The cave was narrow, with wet mud on both sides, and the stone wall above his head rubbed against his back.

He moved forward little by little, his knees and palms getting chafed.

The cave slopes downwards, and it gets darker the further you go in, the less you can see.

He could only crawl forward by instinct.

After climbing for an unknown amount of time, suddenly there was light ahead.

He quickened his pace and poked his head out of the cave—before him lay an unfamiliar forest.

He looked back at the cave behind him, then looked around, wondering where he was.

The squirrels are long gone.

Lu Yang sat at the cave entrance, panting heavily.

I looked down at my shoes; they were a patch of brown, and still smelled of urine.

He gave a wry smile, realizing he was truly insane.

Why bother arguing with a squirrel?

He stood up, dusted himself off, and looked around.

The forest was very dense, with no end in sight, and they had no idea which direction A'Luo and the others were in.

He sighed and prepared to go back the way he came.

......

In the woods, a gray shadow darted swiftly among the trees.

That wasn't wind, nor was it a bird.

It's a leopard.

Its fur is grayish-brown with faint markings, like faded old clothes.

Its body was pressed very low, almost touching the ground as it ran, its four paws landing silently, leaving shallow dents in the fallen leaves.

It runs so fast that you can't see the movements of its limbs; you can only see a streamlined shadow weaving between tree roots and bushes. When it turns a corner, it leans to the side, flicks its tail, and steadily draws an arc.

A person was riding on the back of the leopard.

That person was very old.

His hair was completely white, as white as snow, without a single other color.

His face was covered with wrinkles, like a dried-up riverbed, each one deeply etched.

His eyes, however, were unlike those of an old man—his pupils were as black as ink and as bright as lamps, and when he looked at people, it was as if he could see right through them.

He wore a gray-white robe, which was very long and reached down to the leopard's belly. As he sped along, the robe billowed backward, revealing a pair of feet clad in cloth shoes underneath.

The feet dangled on either side of the leopard's belly, not bracing against anything, yet they were firmly planted on the leopard's body, as if they were an extension of it.

His name is Yun Songzi, and he is the leader of the Wuyin Sect.

The Misty Hidden Sect is not considered a major sect in the Hundred Thousand Mountains.

They migrated here from other places in the last two hundred years. Their roots are shallow and their population is not large, with only about a hundred people at most.

The ability to gain a foothold in the Hundred Thousand Mountains relies on one skill—cultivating one's spirit and soul.

The Misty Hidden Sect does not cultivate the physical body, practice martial arts, refine elixirs, or draw talismans.

They only cultivate the spirit and soul.

To refine one's soul to the point of being powerful enough to leave one's body, possess another's body, or capture the souls of wild beasts for one's own use.

Just like this leopard, which Yun Songzi casually caught when he went out.

His soul left his body, scanned the forest, found the leopard hunting, and sent a wisp of his divine sense into its sea of ​​consciousness, easily seizing its consciousness.

Before the leopard could react, its body was already out of its control.

Obediently squat down, obediently let him ride on you, obediently run in the direction he wants to go.

This skill sounds terrifying when it's mentioned, but Yun Songzi knows its shortcomings.

If you cultivate your spirit but not your physical body, your lifespan will be short.

Martial arts practitioners who reach the Martial Saint level can live to be over a hundred years old, but for members of the Misty Hidden Sect, living to sixty is considered a long life.

Of all the leaders of the cult, only one lived past seventy; that leader died at the age of seventy-two.

He lay in bed, so thin he was just skin and bones. His eyes were still open, as if he wanted to say something. He opened his mouth for a long time, but he died without uttering a single word.

Yun Songzi is fifty-nine years old this year.

Every morning when he gets up, he sits in front of the bronze mirror for a while.

Looking at the increasingly aged face in the mirror, I count the new wrinkles and the newly sprouted gray hairs at my temples.

He knew his days were numbered.

He can only hold on for two or three more years at most before his soul begins to weaken, starting with a shorter time spent outside his body.

Then memories begin to blur, and eventually even self-awareness will dissipate, leaving one a living person without a soul, like a lamp without oil.

He wasn't afraid of death. What he feared was the demise of the Misty Hidden Sect in his hands.

The Hidden Mist Sect had been passed down to him as the seventh generation.

The previous six leaders all tried to find a way out for the sect, but none of them succeeded.

Those who cultivate their spirit and soul have a short lifespan; this is innate and cannot be changed.

There are only three ways to prolong life.

One is to find rare and precious local treasures.

The kind of miraculous medicine that can extend lifespan by hundreds of years does exist in the Hundred Thousand Mountains, but every single one of them already has an owner.