A sharp sting flared across Yue Ming's rear. She frowned, a flush rising to her cheeks, but she dared not resist.
She was Ye Qian's maid now. When her Young Master punished her, she could only endure it.
Dissatisfaction stirred in her chest, but she buried it deep. A qualified maid never let such feelings show. And if she couldn't become a qualified maid, how could she ever rise higher?
Yue Ming understood this with perfect clarity. She offered no resistance.
She had once been the goddess of the younger generation—admired, pursued, desired. But to Ye Qian, she was nothing. Without her former halo, she was just an ordinary personal maid.
Being sought after had felt intoxicating. Now she was the one doing the seeking.
She finally understood what those who had once admired her must have felt. Now it was her turn to do everything in her power to please Ye Qian, to win his favor, to make him happy.
Ye Qian gazed at the horizon where the sun dipped low, painting the sky in magnificent, dazzling hues of crimson and gold.
"Our business here is concluded. Time to head back."
"Yes, Young Master."
They returned to the qilin carriage. Ye Qian settled into his seat and closed his eyes immediately.
Seeing Yue Ming close his eyes, she fell silent and immediately began massaging him.
Her touch was so gentle and precise that he barely registered her presence, yet savored the soothing glide of her delicate fingers.
She knew better than to disturb his repose. Under Xia He's tutelage, she had mastered countless lessons: small courtesies, meticulous attentions, and the subtle art of serving without intruding.
Ye Qian sank into his inner consciousness. He now possessed 8,700 Villain Points, and the time had come to eliminate his cursed negative 1,000 Luck Value.
Luck this low meant that under ordinary circumstances, he couldn't possibly obtain anything worthwhile.
Didn't those Children of Destiny with their towering Luck stumble into fortuitous encounters at every turn? That was because their Luck soared high. Someone with negative Luck could never encounter such windfalls.
Luck was mysterious, elusive—unseen, untouchable, yet undeniably real.
Of course, with the System, Ye Qian could see it plainly.
Sigh. "System, convert all my Villain Points into Luck Value."
Suppressing the pang of loss, Ye Qian made his decision.
It hadn't been easy accumulating 8,700 points. Before he could even savor them, they were gone.
[Ding! 8,700 Villain Points converted into 870 Luck Value. Conversion complete. Host's current Luck: -130 points.]
Seeing his Luck still buried in the negatives, Ye Qian didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Good heavens.
After all that work, he hadn't even climbed to zero—still trapped in the red. Truly difficult.
Mourning silently, Ye Qian reflected on how arduous his path remained, how long the road stretched ahead.
Still, it wasn't hopeless. Only a few days had passed, and he'd nearly reached zero. With a little more effort, a bit more grinding, everything would improve.
"System, display my personal information."
[Host]: Ye Qian
[Age]: 18
[Identity]: Young Master of the Ye Family, Great Villain
[Cultivation]: Holy Induction Realm Early Stage
[Physique]: Supreme Immortal Body, Supreme Demon Eyes
[Cultivation Technique]: Ancient Demon Scripture, Slaughtering Immortal Art, Primordial Sword Art
[Magic Treasure]: Void Slaughtering Sword (Samsara Artifact)
[Luck]: -130
[Villain Points]: 0
[System Backpack]: Crushing Star Blade (Samsara Artifact)
After all that effort, he'd returned to square one in an instant. Ye Qian felt helpless.
Still, this expedition had yielded rich rewards. Not only had he harvested a massive number of Villain Points, but he'd also obtained a new Samsara Artifact—the Crushing Star Blade.
This weapon was extraordinary. Samsara Artifacts were never simple. Throughout the entire Immortal Domain, those who possessed them were exceedingly rare, and each one stood as an overwhelmingly powerful existence.
Beyond such individuals, only Children of Destiny with explosive Luck could obtain Samsara Artifacts—or those fortunate enough to stumble upon Ancient Ruins, where the odds climbed somewhat higher.
…
Meanwhile, Yue Qingshan dragged his shattered body back to his dwelling, each step agony.
The moment he crossed the threshold, he collapsed, crashing hard against the floor. Pain ravaged every inch of him, wave after merciless wave.
"Ahh!"
Sword Qi raged through his body like wildfire, and Yue Qingshan finally screamed.
"Qingshan, expel the Sword Qi from your body immediately!
You can't delay—your meridians will be damaged permanently!"
The remnant soul of his master had weathered countless storms across the ages. He recognized Yue Qingshan's condition at a glance.
But he couldn't help directly. He was merely a wisp of a remnant soul, devoid of actual power.
"Qingshan, calm yourself! Don't let your mind wander—circulate the cultivation technique you practice!
Remember, don't overthink things right now. Taking care of yourself is what matters most."
He emphasized those words—don't overthink things—twice, afraid Yue Qingshan might still be consumed by rage over what had just transpired.
In such a state, Qi Deviation came easily. One slip, and the consequences would be unimaginable.
Gritting his teeth, Yue Qingshan fought to banish the scenes replaying in his mind.
How much he hated. How much he resented. He hated his own powerlessness. He resented Yue Ming's heartlessness. He loathed Ye Qian for taking Yue Ming—and the Crushing Star Blade.
His master knew that asking his disciple not to think about anything at this moment was inherently a monumental task.
The jade thumb ring on Yue Qingshan's finger emitted faint white light, as though lending him strength.
Gradually, Yue Qingshan's turbulent emotions stilled.
Focused and undistracted, he circulated the Heaven-Upholding Art, channeling every ounce of effort into purging the Sword Qi from his body.
Hours crawled past.
Yue Qingshan drew on the spiritual power within him, forcing it against the foreign Sword Qi again and again.
But the Sword Qi was overbearingly fierce, refusing to be expelled quickly. After several grueling hours, he'd barely managed to corner it, driving the invasive energy into a single isolated point.
Hiss!
A wisp of Sword Qi finally tore free from his body, shooting out and striking the floor with a sharp crack. It carved a deep, jagged gouge into the stone.
Had the floor been any less solid, the Sword Qi would have punched straight through.
With the last of the foreign energy expelled, Yue Qingshan suddenly spat a mouthful of foul black blood. His deathly pale face regained a trace of color.
Ignoring whether his robes would be stained, he viciously wiped the blood from his lips with his sleeve.
Cough—cough—cough!
Three heavy coughs wracked his chest. Finally, the sensation of Sword Qi ravaging his insides vanished. The pain faded.
Yue Qingshan collapsed onto his back, spiritual power utterly depleted. His eyes stared upward, dull and listless.