Seconds stretched into minutes, yet Haoran remained motionless, his face frozen in an expression of utter stupefaction. He hadn’t blinked, moved, or even twitched since entering the trance.

The elders, initially intrigued, were now showing signs of impatience, though none dared voice their complaints aloud. Elder Longwei, standing closest to Haoran, formed a protective qi barrier to block the probing divine senses of the gathered cultivators.

Exactly twenty minutes after Haoran had tapped the Swipe Right for Enlightenment app, the silence shattered—literally. Haoran staggered backward, the qi barrier around him collapsing like fragile glass.

“Haoran, how was it?” Elder Longwei’s voice broke through the room, his impatience barely masked.

Haoran blinked, steadying himself as he regained awareness of his surroundings. “How long… how long was I gone?” he muttered, still dazed.

Longwei’s patience snapped. With a sharp slap to the back of Haoran’s head, he growled, “Pull yourself together! Tell me what happened!”

Haoran winced, then slowly knelt, his head lowered in apparent shame. “Elder… I have committed a great sin,” he confessed, his tone trembling.

A murmur rippled through the crowd.

“Did it work or not?” one elder asked, frowning.

Longwei’s eyes darted between Han Rui and Haoran. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded of Han Rui.

Han Rui only shrugged; his calm demeanor unwavering. “You should ask your subordinate, Elder Longwei. Only he knows what he saw or experienced. But rest assured, the QiPhone never fails.”

All eyes returned to Haoran. Longwei leaned down, his voice sharp as a blade, this time delivered through a qi message to avoid any prying ears. “What happened?”

Haoran’s voice wavered. “Elder, I have committed a great—”

“Shut up, you fool, and tell me what happened already!” Longwei barked, his fist clenching.

Haoran shuddered. “Elder, I’ll talk! I’ll talk!” He took a deep breath, forcing the words out via a qi message. “I… I have mastered the Three Hundred Phantom Movement Technique.”

Longwei froze, his mind refusing to process what he had just heard.

“Say that again,” he ordered, his tone deceptively calm.

Haoran swallowed hard but didn’t dare lift his head. “Elder, I said… I have mastered the Three Hundred Phantom Movement Technique.”

Longwei tilted his head back and suddenly erupted into laughter, the deep, hearty sound startling everyone in the hall. Haoran cautiously raised his head, confusion mingling with the relief washing over him.

“Let me get this straight,” Longwei finally said, wiping a tear from his eye. “In less than twenty minutes, you—my servant—learned and mastered the ultimate technique of the Song Clan. A technique so complex that not even the patriarch of the Song Clan has fully grasped. And you—my servant—accomplished this in twenty minutes.”

Haoran winced, his expression pleading. “Yes, Elder.”

Longwei’s laughter ceased abruptly. His right hand rose, and Haoran reflexively braced himself, closing his eyes as he awaited the inevitable slap.

“Elder, I can prove it!” Haoran blurted out via another qi message.

Longwei’s hand halted inches from Haoran’s face. “You can?”

Haoran opened his eyes, nodding with determination.

Longwei frowned deeply, skepticism etched into his features. Haoran had never been the type to lie, but the idea that he had mastered such a technique in less than an hour was absurd. The notion defied logic, reason, and even the laws of cultivation.

After a long pause, Longwei deactivated the qi barrier, turning to Xianlong with a respectful nod. “Patriarch Xianlong, I humbly request the use of a private training room to verify this matter. I hope my request isn’t an inconvenience.”

Xianlong, his curiosity piqued, retrieved a talisman from his space ring. With a murmured incantation, it flared to life, burning with a brilliant light. “Not at all, Elder Longwei. The room will be prepared immediately.”

Moments later, the grand doors of the hall swung open, and two Han clan guards stepped in with precise movements.

“They will escort you to a private area. Take as much time as you need,” Xianlong declared, his tone even.

Elder Longwei cupped his fists respectfully before guiding Haoran out of the hall. Their departure, conducted in silence, left the gathered cultivators brimming with curiosity.

“That’s it? No one’s going to explain what just happened?” an elder muttered, his voice tinged with frustration.

Several representatives looked ready to press for answers, but Han Rui stepped in smoothly, raising a hand. “I understand you all have questions, and I don’t mind answering them. However, let’s wait for Elder Longwei to return. Everything will be addressed in due time.”

With that, Han Rui fell silent, his confident smile betraying nothing. The elders exchanged glances but grudgingly acquiesced, each stacking their questions as the minutes dragged on.

About ten minutes later, the doors of the hall flew open once again—this time, with far more force. A blur shot toward the dais with startling speed, causing gasps among the crowd. Xianlong, ever vigilant, appeared in front of Han Rui in an instant, intercepting the incoming figure.

“Elder Longwei, behave yourself!” Xianlong’s voice carried a sharp edge as he blocked the elder’s advance. “Do you intend to harm my grandson?”

Longwei, wearing a dazzling, almost manic smile, raised his hands in surrender. “Patriarch Xianlong, don’t be so harsh. I had no foul intentions, I swear. This is just a misunderstanding!” He then leaned in closer, speaking via sound transmission. “Please, state your price for the second QiPhone. Whatever it is, the Song Clan will pay it!”

Xianlong’s lips curled into a thin smile, his voice cold. “The matter is not yet resolved. Return to your seat, Elder Longwei.”

The patriarch’s words, spoken aloud, left no room for debate. Longwei hesitated but ultimately complied, retreating with a sheepish grin. Yet, his eagerness had not gone unnoticed, and whispers began rippling through the hall.

“Elder Longwei,” one of the representatives finally spoke up, “won’t you clarify what happened with your servant? At the very least, tell us if the QiPhone worked.”

Longwei’s smile vanished as he glared at the speaker. “What happened to my people is none of your concern. Stop poking your nose into the affairs of other families!”

Before tensions could escalate, Han Rui raised a hand, his voice calm and authoritative. “Everyone, please. Let’s not argue.” He turned to Longwei, his expression patient. “Elder Longwei, did Haoran receive enlightenment or not? There’s no need to divulge the specifics—just confirm the outcome.”

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Longwei’s shoulders relaxed at Han Rui’s measured tone. “Ah, young master Han Rui, my apologies for my earlier outburst.” His expression brightened into a broad grin. “I can now confirm—without any ambiguity—that the QiPhone is not only effective, but also extraordinary!”

Gasps erupted among the gathered cultivators, suspicion flickering in their eyes.

“I mean no disrespect,” a middle-aged man in loose robes said, stepping forward, “but I remain skeptical. We need verifiable proof of the QiPhone’s effectiveness—proof we can witness for ourselves.”

Han Rui met the man’s gaze steadily. “Are you suggesting we need another volunteer?”

“Yes,” the man affirmed. “Someone—”

“It should be me!” Longwei interjected, raising his hand like an eager disciple. His enthusiasm was so out of character that several elders blinked in disbelief.

Han Rui and Xianlong exchanged bemused glances, their expressions wry. Meanwhile, murmurs rippled through the crowd as they watched the esteemed elder of the Song Clan practically beg to be chosen.

“Elder Longwei,” Zhu Mingxuan said, frowning, “your servant has already participated. It would be inappropriate for another member of the Song Clan to volunteer so soon. Another faction should have the opportunity, for fairness’ sake.”

“Fairness?” Longwei scoffed, crossing his arms. “When young master Han Rui first asked for volunteers, none of you stepped forward First come, first serve—that is the way of cultivators in the Sacred Martial World!”

“You’re truly prepared to shame yourself this much?”

The voice came from a handsome middle-aged man clad in pristine white robes, peacock-like feathers fanning out from behind him. His presence was regal, commanding the attention of everyone in the room.

Longwei snorted, his gaze flicking over the newcomer. “Wenhao, what business is it of yours if I bring shame to myself?” He sneered, gesturing dismissively at the man’s extravagant outfit. “Besides, you’ve already shamed your Fang Clan enough by wearing that. Shouldn’t you be more worried about your fashion choices?”

Laughter bubbled up from a few of the younger representatives, quickly stifled by their elders’ stern looks.

Han Rui and Xianlong stood by, quietly observing the exchange. Neither seemed inclined to interfere, both amused and curious to see how the situation would unfold.

Wenhao’s brows shot up briefly as he flicked open his hand fan. “It’s understandable that someone as thickheaded as you lacks a discerning eye for art. But regardless of your opinions, you cannot be the volunteer.”

Longwei’s expression darkened further. He clenched his fists beneath his robes, silently cursing himself. I should have kept my composure earlier. These sly bastards can obviously sense there’s something special about that item, and now they’ll never let me be the one to test it.

“Then who will be the volunteer?” Longwei asked evenly, his voice betraying none of the storm brewing within him.

“I choose myself!”

The declaration came not from one, but twenty elders simultaneously, each voice overlapping in a chaotic chorus. The elders exchanged sharp glares, the tension in the room thickening instantly. Among the claimants were, of course, Zhu Mingxuan and Fang Wenhao, their confident smirks daring anyone to challenge them.

Han Rui cleared his throat, cutting through the rising discord. “Ahem. Esteemed elders, if I may interrupt.” His calm, measured voice commanded attention. “It seems we cannot reach a reasonable conclusion on the matter of volunteering. Thankfully, I still have more to explain about the QiPhone, so we can table that decision for later.”

Raising the QiPhone high, he continued, “First, I want to make something very clear, so that no rumors spread.” His gaze swept across the room, lingering for a moment on Chang Xiao, who had been unusually quiet. “The QiPhone was not created or crafted by my family.”

“Young Master Han Rui, isn’t that obvious?” Longwei replied, his tone polite but firm. “No disrespect intended, but not even the combined wealth and knowledge of every faction here could produce such a treasure. It’s simply beyond us.”

“Which raises the real question,” Wenhao interjected smoothly, snapping his fan shut. “How did the Han clan come into possession of such a marvel?”

All eyes turned to Xianlong and the Han clan elders. Xianlong sighed heavily and stepped forward, the weight of the room’s scrutiny settling on his shoulders.

“Truthfully, we don’t know who the creator of the QiPhone is,” he admitted, his voice measured and solemn. “Years ago, we were approached by a mysterious merchant guild. They claimed to owe a great debt to my late son and couldn’t stand to see his clan fall into ruin. They promised to help revitalize us.” He paused, his gaze distant. “At the time, I didn’t take their words seriously. But then the QiPhone arrived. And I’m sure you don’t need reminding of how much my clan has changed since.”

A heavy silence fell, the weight of his words rippling through the hall.

“At first, we feared it might be some kind of demonic artifact,” Xianlong continued, “but the more we studied it, the more it became clear—this was no creation of demons. They have neither the motive nor the capability for something of this magnitude. To be perfectly honest, I believe the QiPhone could only have come from the realm of immortals.”

The word immortal sent a wave of shock through the gathered cultivators. Gasps echoed softly, and though no one spoke, their widened eyes betrayed the same thought: Could it truly be…?

“Patriarch Xianlong,” one elder finally ventured, “are you still in contact with this merchant guild?”

Xianlong nodded. “Yes, but only on their terms. They reach out when they wish; our attempts to contact them are ignored. If you investigate thoroughly—like I suspect many of you already have—you’ll find that much of the Han clan’s new enterprises aren’t even in our name. We’re merely gatekeepers for the true overlords.”

Han Wudi stepped forward, bowing respectfully before speaking. “Patriarch, perhaps now is the time to inform them of the edict?”

Xianlong nodded in agreement and resumed. “Even if you hadn’t come here today, we would have sought an audience with each of your factions. Our benefactors have issued an edict to distribute the QiPhone to the entire Sacred Martial World.”

The hall erupted with disbelief.

“Patriarch Xianlong, I’m ready to buy!” Longwei interjected, unable to contain his excitement. “I was the first to make my intentions known, so you must prioritize me!”

“Wouldn’t it be wiser to auction the QiPhone?” Wenhao countered coolly, fanning himself once more. “Surely such a treasure deserves a proper bidding war.”

“Shut up, Wenhao!” Longwei roared, his qi flaring briefly. “Are you trying to provoke me?”

“And if I am?” Wenhao replied, his fan snapping shut. “Do you think I fear you?”

“Elders, please!” Han Rui interjected, raising a placating hand. “Let’s not descend into conflict. My grandfather still has much to say.”

Xianlong patted Han Rui’s head fondly before addressing the room once more. “We do not intend to sell the QiPhone through auctions.”

Longwei laughed triumphantly, jeering at Wenhao, only for his smug grin to falter as Xianlong continued.

“Instead, the Han clan will act as distributors for the merchant guild, ensuring the QiPhone is propagated throughout the Sacred Martial World. To achieve this, we seek your cooperation.” He paused, letting the weight of his next words settle. "Each person here, along with their faction leader, will receive one QiPhone, accompanied by a one-year subscription for messaging, calls, video calls, and additional storage."

A stunned silence followed, the kind that could make a pin drop sound like thunder. The elders stared at Xianlong, their disbelief etched on every face. Each of them thought the same thing: If they had the same treasure, why would they share it?

Xianlong continued, “And that’s not all. Each of your sects will receive commissions for every QiPhone sold, as well as a percentage from subscriptions generated by users from your respective factions. The more people who adopt the QiPhone, the greater your profits. You don’t have to give me an answer now. You can—”

“Patriarch Xianlong, the Song Clan is willing to partner with the Han Clan!” Longwei declared without hesitation. “Where is the contract? I’ll sign it on behalf of our patriarch! Do you need a hostage or collateral? I can even arrange for Young Master Han Rui to marry my granddaughter, Song Ruyun. No, she can be a concubine—or even a maid if that’s what it takes! Just name your terms!”

Several elders gawked in disbelief, their mouths hanging wide open. Han Rui mirrored their expressions. He understood Longwei’s eagerness but hadn’t expected the shrewd old man to offer his granddaughter so quickly.

“Ahem,” Xianlong cleared his throat, regaining control of the room. “As I was saying, you can take as much time as you need to deliberate on the matter. My grandson will explain the necessary features in more detail.”

“Wait a moment.” Chang Xiao’s voice broke the stunned silence. “Young Master Han Rui used the QiPhone earlier. Does that mean… mortals can use it too?” His words, though muttered, echoed across the hall.

Realization dawned on the gathered elders. Han Rui, who had no cultivation base, had indeed been able to operate the device.

“This… this is ridiculous,” several of them murmured in unison.

“Ridiculous, you say?” Xianlong smiled knowingly. “I wasn’t only referring to cultivators when I mentioned spreading the QiPhone’s usage. Both mortals and cultivators can, and will, use it. Though, of course, there are features like ‘Swipe Right for Enlightenment’ that are exclusive to cultivators.”

“Patriarch Xianlong, that sounds absurd,” Wenhao interjected. “Most cultivators will struggle to afford such a device. How do you expect mortals to afford it?”

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding,” Xianlong replied. “The QiPhone will not be sold at an exorbitant price. Our benefactors are focused on widespread adoption, so the price will be relatively affordable.”

“How affordable?” Chang Xiao asked, voicing the unspoken question of everyone present.

“The QiPhone, which can be used by both mortals and cultivators, will be sold for just one ninety-nine bronze coins for mortals, and one hundred spirit stones for cultivators.”

“What?!” Gasps of disbelief rippled through the hall.

Xianlong pressed on, his voice unwavering. “As for the QiPhone Pro Max—a more powerful version designed exclusively for cultivators—it will be available starting at seven hundred and ninety-nine spirit stones.”