“Who’s that?” one of the five lounging at the table called out when he spotted Xia Jiao stopping at the door.

The noise in the dim tavern quieted slightly as the whole gang turned to look at Sa Min with curiosity.

“Oh, just an old friend,” Xia Jiao replied, still grinning as he locked eyes with Sa Min.

Off to the side, Wing Lian's face darkened as he tightened his grip on his backpack.

Sa Min raised an eyebrow at him. Where is your subordinate? If there’s ever a time to show up, it’s now.

Wing Lian, as though he’d read his thoughts, nodded toward the second floor with a tilt of his head.

Still fighting? Damn it, Sa Min frowned to himself as he scanned the tavern, considering his options. The door was just ahead, and his dagger was within easy reach. He could plunge it into Xia Jiao’s throat while he still had it, use his Swift Step Powercube, and make a run for it.

But…

His eyes flicked to the table of thugs. They all looked like seasoned criminals, and the likelihood of being caught was high. Xia Jiao might not have opened his essence core yet since he was younger than him, but his companions definitely had.

One in particular, a heavyset, middle-aged man, gave off the air of someone used to killing. He was now aggressively groping the chest of a young woman in his arms.

If they catch me, even if I manage to hide the blood bottle while running, they’ll kill me for taking down one of their own, he thought, glancing back at Wing Lian. He mentioned having an offensive Powercube in case something like this happened, but I’m not sure it would be enough…

And his thoughts kept racing in a blur.

In dangerous situations like this, there was hardly any difference between the great Heavenly Union and a bunch of nobodies in a rundown tavern. If he wasn’t careful, he’d end up killed, and no one would care about his identity or past.

“Been a while, hasn’t it? “ Xia Jiao sauntered over, throwing an arm around Sa Min’s shoulders like they were long-lost brothers. “Let’s sit down, grab a drink, and catch up.”

Despite the growing tension in his mind, Sa Min’s expression remained blank. “Why not? It’s been, what, three years since you left the academy? Where have you been?” His voice was calm and casual, as though he hadn’t humiliated this man by dragging him naked through the courtyard in front of all the outer disciples.

Not to mention, Sa Min was the reason Xia Jiao had been expelled in the first place. He had reported him to the administration for sneaking a prostitute into their dorm—justifiable as that was, it was only a small part of why Sa Min had chosen to do it.

The real reason was that he had suspected him of stealing some of the cultivation materials he had bought to refine the Body-cleansing Powercubes.

Maybe it was Sa Min's calmness that got under his skin, or maybe the humiliation from that day still burned inside him, but Xia Jiao’s grin quickly shifted into a glare. He tightened his grip on Sa Min's shoulder and yanked him forcefully, spinning him around. “Cut the bullshit, you fucking bastard,” he shouted, silencing the entire tavern. “This isn’t the academy, and it sure as hell ain’t your clan. Stop acting like some arrogant young master.”

Sa Min wanted to say something smooth to buy time for Wing Lian’s subordinate to show up, but he knew anything he said would only make things worse. So he stayed silent.

“This is our turf,” Xia Jiao sneered, his voice sharp with malice. “Now take off your clothes. Our boss hasn’t had fun with a pretty boy for a while.” He nodded towards the heavyset man at the table.

The man shoved the woman away, licking his lips as he leered at Sa Min. “Come here, boy,” he rasped. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Xia Jiao chuckled wickedly as he began dragging Sa Min towards the table.

Sa Min didn’t resist. Instead, he turned his head to Wing Lian, signaling him to be ready.

As they moved closer to the table, Sa Min caught sight of a shadow on the stairs.

Hope that’s him, he thought. With no more time to waste, he swiftly whipped out his dagger and drove it into Xia Jiao’s throat.

Sa Min didn’t waste time enjoying the horror in Xia Jiao's wide eyes as blood and life gushed from him. He abandoned the dagger buried in Xia Jiao's neck and swiftly snatched the Explosive Smoke Powercube from his robe. Channeling his pure force into it, he activated it and flung it toward the table.

By now, Xia Jiao’s companion, who had come with him, had collapsed nearby, dead. Twin small puncture wounds pierced his skull. While Sa Min had moved against Xia Jiao, Wing Lian hadn’t been watching—he had activated a Powercube of his own and killed the man in an instant.

It all happened too quickly for the rest of the gang to react in time.

In this moment of confusion, Sa Min and Wing Lian instinctively turned for the door.

Just as they took their first step, a loud crack rang out behind them—the Explosion Smoke Powercube had detonated, flooding the tavern with thick black smoke in an instant.

Though the smelless smoke was harmful, it could shroud an area of five-meter radius in darkness, blinding anyone caught in it for a minute before fading away.

Even if they can’t see, they still know we’re heading for the door, Sa Min thought sharply, ducking low as he ran. Not taking any chances, he activated his Body Fiery Shield Powercube.

A shimmering layer of heat flared around him.

They barely managed four more steps when the air behind them filled with a sharp hissing. A barrage of attacks came flying through the smoke.

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“Damn it—” Wing Lian cursed as one of the attacks slammed into him, sending him skidding along the floor.

Sa Min was lucky enough to dodge two swirling water balls when a huge rock, about the size of a kid, came hurtling through the smoke, slamming into his back with incredible force.

The shield took most of the impact, but the remaining force knocked him down and sent him propelling toward the doorway.

Ignoring the pain, he quickly grabbed his backpack off the ground and pushed himself up. He glanced around at the chaos.

For some reason, there were no more attacks coming through the smoke.

Off to the side, just a few feet away, Wing Lian lay face down, blood around him.

Is he dead? Sa Min thought blankly as he stumbled over to him.

As Sa Min was about to check on him, a thug with a metal arm emerged from the black smoke, wild-eyed and charging straight at him. “You’re dead!” he yelled.

Before Sa Min could react, the man suddenly froze mid-step, his face contorted in confusion. His hand flew to his neck, clutching a small needle embedded there. A second later, he collapsed.

Wing Lian’s guy must be in there, Sa Min thought with relief.

Inside the thick black smoke, muffled sounds of fighting echoed, and brief flashes of light flickered.

Sa Min turned back to Wing Lian and shook him hard. “Wake up,” he shouted, but there was no response. He tried again. Still nothing.

His eyes flicked back to the smoke. Can his subordinate handle them all?...

It only took a second for him to decide.

He yanked off Wing Lian’s backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and bolted out of the tavern.

Sa Min wasn’t about to wait around to see who would win. His own life was the only thing that mattered now.

For a second, he’d thought about dragging Wing Lian with him. Strengthening ties with the Ling family might’ve been worth it—but at what cost? Wing Lian would only slow him down, and if a thug caught up, then what?

He didn’t even have anything left to defend himself with.

His survival was his priority now.

Sa Min ran through the alley with all his strength. It would have been a good time to use the Swift Step Powercube, but he didn’t have enough pure force to activate it. The Smoke Explosion and Body Fiery Shield had drained him, leaving him with just 13% of his pure force, and that’s not enough.

As he reached the end of the alley, he sharply turned into a side lane without glancing back at the tavern.

The night was at its darkest, the alleys utterly silent. Aside from his heavy breathing, he could hear nothing.

He kept running, winding through the lanes until he found himself in a desolate alley, darker than the rest. No streetlights, no sign of life. He stopped, bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping for breath.

I’ll have to explain what happened to the Wing family… make sure they don’t think I had a hand in thi— And he heard footsteps behind him. Someone was coming, fast.

Fuck, I don’t even have my dagger, he thought helplessly as he ducked to the side, hiding behind a tree and doing his best to hold his breath.

A figure ran past, and Sa Min squinted into the darkness. “Wing Lian?” he called out quietly.

Wing Lian staggered to a stop, turning toward Sa Min with a pale face, His whole body was dripping in blood. His robe had turned red. When he recognized Sa Min, he instantly collapsed to the ground, too drained to speak.

Sa Min frowned as he approached. “Where’s your subordinate?” Both of them were panting.

Wing Lian lifted his head, a look of anger on his face. “How could you leave me behind?”

Sa Min scowled, as though he’d been unfairly accused. “You were out cold. What else was I supposed to do?” His voice was cold but carried a hint of honesty. “The best way to help you was to reach your family and ask for their support, and that’s exactly what I was doing.”

He then took Wing Lian’s backpack from his shoulders and held it out. “Here’s your pack. I only took it in case the Investigation and Justice Bureau showed up. If they find that bottle of blood, you and your family are done for."

Though Sa Min wasn’t lying, he made sure to frame his words like he’d done these for them and not for himself.

Wing Lian’s blood was still hot, and he seemed to quickly believe what Sa Min. Perhaps thinking he’d have done the same thing in Sa Min’s position. He snatched his backpack from Sa Min’s hand, opened it, and nodded in relief.

Watching him, Sa Min couldn't help but wonder. What is in there? Was it just the bottle of blood, or was there something more valuable inside?

Wing Lian winced as he glanced at his arm, blood pouring from a deep wound. “Would you help get home?” His voice full of pain.

“Why even ask?” Sa Min said with a genuine smile. He reached down, offering a hand. “Come on, let me help you up.”

Wing Lian looked up at him, feeling a strange sense of relief. He had never truly believed in friendships, but after these past few days, especially now—after escaping death together—Sa Min seemed like a... real friend.

Cold at times, sure, but deep down, Wing Lian thought as he took Sa Min’s hand and stood up, he’s just like me.

“Give me a moment; let me get my bottle,” Sa Min said, slipping his backpack off his shoulders. “Let’s search these places while we’re here.”

Wing Lian nodded and started walking ahead. But after a few heavy steps, he suddenly froze, his face tightening in shock. Beneath his feet, a subtle vibration pulsed through the ground. His eyes darted downward, and his heavy breaths caught in his throat.

Blood trickled from his arm but didn’t reach the ground. Instead, it struck what looked like an invisible force, rippling in the air before vanishing into nothingness.

Wing Lian blinked a few times, unable to believe his eyes. That can’t be the Key?...

He watched the scene unfold once more, and his heart started pounding.

A rush of emotions surged within him. It had to be the Key—the damn Key for which their clan had sacrificed everything. His mother’s death, his sister’s ugly mission.

They had even started using their own blood to search for it. And now…

He had found it. The emotions were so overwhelming that his eyes blurred with tears.

He didn’t know much about Keys, but one thing was clear: it was essentially an immortal’s inheritance. An immortal’s inheritance? This was something cultivators in the first cultivation realm wouldn’t even dare to imagine.

How many cultivation resources did it contain? Wing Lian’s imagination soared. Now all those sacrifices, all that pain—they suddenly felt justified. Worth it. The Key was real, here.

The thrill was overwhelming. He almost shouted in triumph, but then… he glanced over his shoulder.

Behind him, not far away, Sa Min squatted, digging through his backpack.

He can’t know, Wing Lian thought, a sharp glint in his eyes. If his people learned the Key’s location, they could seize it before we can if they have enough blood. I can’t risk that.

Wing Lian swallowed hard. “This alley feels risky,” he finally said, attempting to sound casual as he pressed a hand to the wound to stop the blood from dripping. “We should take another—” An arm tightened around his neck from behind, cutting off his words.