The grey-robed wandering cultivator knelt in the mud and blood-soaked earth, eyes clenched shut, seemingly resigned to his fate.
But the pain he had braced for never came.
Those steady footsteps halted three feet in front of him.
Dead silence settled over everything. Only the rustle of leaves in the night wind remained.
The grey-robed wandering cultivator swallowed, trembling with the full-body shudder of a man on the edge of death, and forced his eyes open — slowly, with tremendous effort.
His gaze traveled upward from a pair of black cloth shoes flecked with blood, past the hem of a black robe snapping in the night wind.
And then, as he watched, the terrifying figure who had descended like death itself and called himself "Dustlord" slowly raised one hand and pinched the brim of the wide bamboo hat.
The hat came off.
In the grey-robed man's suddenly wide pupils, the moonlight fell on a face that was young, composed, and clean-featured — even carrying a faint trace of gentleness.
"You... you..."
The instant he recognized that face, it was as though a sledgehammer had struck him squarely in the skull. His mind went completely blank.
He knew this face. He knew it far too well.
Just a few hours ago, he had been silently calling this very face a living Bodhisattva.
Was this not the same generous patron from the market — the one who had bought out every last Gu worm on his cloth for a full thousand Primeval Stones?!
"How... how is it you?!"
The grey-robed wandering cultivator — whose name was Hou San — felt his entire understanding of the world collapse.
An utterly absurd chain of logic knotted itself into a hopeless tangle inside his head.
He was completely lost.
This man had handed him a fortune out of nowhere, then followed him all the way out to this desolate wilderness, and then personally butchered every single one of the would-be robbers like slaughtering chickens?
What in the world did he want?!
If he had intended to take the Gu worms by force, he could have done it at the market with that terrifying strength of his — found any excuse and taken them without spending a single stone.
Why pay a thousand Primeval Stones upfront, then go to all this trouble to save his life on top of it?
"Take it."
Lin Mu offered no explanation in the face of Hou San's dumbfounded stare.
He simply tilted his chin slightly and gestured with cold indifference at the scattered Primeval Stones lying in the blood-soaked earth below.
"No one will be coming to save you a second time."
The ice-cold reminder hit Hou San like a bucket of cold water. He jolted back to his senses with a full-body flinch.
He looked at the severed limbs strewn across the ground. Then he looked at the unfathomable young man standing before him.
In that moment, the survival instincts honed through years of scraping along at the very bottom of the world seized control.
Whatever this person wanted — at least he was still alive. And a figure this dangerous, if he truly wanted Hou San dead, would not have left him the dignity of resistance.
"Thank you for saving my life, my Lord! Thank you!"
Hou San scrambled forward on hands and knees, frantically gathering the blood-stained stones back into a pile.
Then, mid-motion, his hands paused.
Hou San swallowed. A look of acute, visceral pain crossed his eyes.
But he set his jaw, reached into the pile, and with deliberate precision counted out exactly half.
Five hundred Primeval Stones.
He held the sum in both hands, raised it toward Lin Mu with deep reverence — and more than a little fawning — and pressed his forehead to the ground.
"Lord Dustlord! Hou San has no way to repay your great kindness. Please accept these five hundred Primeval Stones as a small token — tea money, nothing more."
Bleed a little to avert disaster. The man had spent considerable effort to save him.
If Hou San failed to show the proper gratitude, this savior could become an executioner at any moment.
Watching Hou San's display, a flicker of genuine surprise passed through Lin Mu's eyes.
"A smart one, after all."
He had half-expected a greedy fool who would need to be intimidated into compliance.
Instead, Hou San — timid as a mouse though he was — had read the situation clearly and made the cut without hesitation.
That would save some trouble.
Lin Mu accepted without ceremony.
A casual wave of his hand, a brief flicker from the Gourd Gu within his Aperture, and the five hundred Primeval Stones vanished — absorbed cleanly into his possession.
The moment Lin Mu pocketed the stones, the crushing weight that had been suspended over Hou San's heart finally dropped away.
He let out a long, slow breath, and the rigid tension drained from his body. His life, it seemed, was truly secured.
But the relief lasted exactly one second.
Lin Mu looked at him, and spoke words that sent him tumbling back into confusion.
"Dustlord is not me."
Hou San froze. He stared blankly at Lin Mu, unable to process it.
Had this man not just announced that name himself, to those two fleeing robbers, with his own mouth?
Lin Mu paid no attention to his bewilderment.
His deep gaze bore down on Hou San's face like two physical blades, and in a tone that left no room for question or refusal, he spoke each word with deliberate weight.
"You are Dustlord."
"What?!"
Hou San's jaw dropped. He pointed at his own face — drained of all color from shock — his voice shaking.
"My Lord... please don't joke with me. A nobody like me, with my pathetic cultivation — how could I possibly be worthy of such a fearsome Demonic Path name? How did I become Dustlord..."
"I say you are. So you are."
Lin Mu stood with his hands clasped behind his back, unhurried, and finally laid out his true plan.
"I did not save you for fame, and I did not save you for those few Primeval Stones. I simply want to discuss a business arrangement."
"In a few days."
"I need you to attend in the identity of Dustlord and bid on one item for me — a Rank 2 Red Iron Relic Gu."
Hou San sucked in a sharp breath.
A Rank 2 Red Iron Relic Gu.
A heaven-defying natural treasure capable of directly elevating one's cultivation — the kind of priceless rarity that a bottom-rung wandering cultivator like him would not dare dream of even in his sleep.
"If you can lock down that bid for me without a hitch..."
Lin Mu dangled the hook. "Those five hundred Primeval Stones from just now — consider them your advance fee for the errand. Once it's done, every last one comes back to you."
No one rises early without reason.
Hou San had been quietly bleeding inside over the loss of those five hundred stones.
The moment those words landed, his sharp intake of breath betrayed just how desperately he wanted that sum back.
But years of surviving in the black market had sharpened his instincts. His reason immediately seized on the most glaring, most fatal flaw in the arrangement.
"But... my Lord..."
Hou San pulled a miserable face and pointed at himself.
"I'm flat broke. That's a Rank 2 Relic Gu — it'll cost a fortune. Even if you trusted me enough to hand over the money, I couldn't even hold onto a thousand Primeval Stones."
"If you send me strutting around with that kind of sum, I'll be dead before I get there."
"Who said anything about you carrying the money?"
Lin Mu gave a composed, quiet laugh.
"The Jia Clan uses a sealed-bid system. Payment and delivery are not simultaneous."
"All you need to do is follow my instructions during the auction — write the designated price on a slip of paper and drop it into the sealed box. No need to display your wealth. No deposit required."
"Once the bid is won, the caravan's steward will summon you to a private room on the second floor for the exchange. At that point, all you have to do is sit there. The matter of payment — I have my own means."
A perfect closed loop.
Lin Mu ran through the plan one final time in his mind.
In a day or two, the two robbers he had deliberately let escape would spread the name "Dustlord" — a ruthless, decisive Demonic Path killer — all across the outer reaches of Black Wind Ridge.
By the time the erratic, unpredictable "Dustlord" placed a winning bid on a Red Iron Relic Gu, it would all appear entirely natural to Jia Fu and any outside observers.
No one would question where a blood-licking Demonic Path cultivator had sourced a small fortune. And no one would ever connect that Demonic Path figure to Lin Mu.
The plan was set.
Caught between the pull of profit and the weight of implied threat, Hou San's legs were still unsteady — but he had no real choice. He agreed, forcing himself to hold his nerve.
Do it, and the five hundred Primeval Stones come back. Refuse, and the headless corpses on the ground were a preview of his own fate.
To prevent any connection between them from drawing attention, Lin Mu relayed the agreed signals and meeting details, then sent Hou San on his way immediately — down the path and gone.
Lin Mu himself replaced his bamboo hat, turned, and dissolved into the vast darkness of the night.
Two hours later.
Under the cover of darkness, Lin Mu slipped past every patrol and sentry without a sound and returned safely to his quarters in the Silent Stone District of Black Blood Stockade.
The plan was in motion. All that remained was to wait patiently for the grand market's main event to arrive.
But before that — there was one matter of far greater importance. The largest secret still hanging over him, waiting to be confirmed.
He pushed open the heavy stone door of the hidden chamber.
Lin Mu settled onto the cold stone bed in a cross-legged position.
Before him, on a clean wooden table, two Gu worms rested in silence — deep crimson throughout, radiating a faint, sweet-metallic scent.
The Blood Trace Gu. Purchased from Hou San for a thousand Primeval Stones.
Every step of preparation had led to this moment.
Lin Mu drew a slow, deep breath and stilled the faint restlessness stirring within his Aperture's Primeval Essence.
He closed his eyes, and began to methodically retrieve from memory the recorded image left within the Black Bone King's inheritance — tracing every precise detail of the refinement process for the Rank 2 Blood Attraction Gu, the key that would unlock the first layer of the heart inheritance.
A silent refinement session was about to begin, cloaked in the darkness of the night.