Ten Days Later

Xu Mo did not go searching for so-called "opportunities."

Not because he wasn't capable, but because he could feel his lifespan slipping through his fingers like grains of sand.

He had taken shelter in a cave—an unremarkable place that served as the den of a group of minor spirit beasts. Their leader was barely in the Profound Stage, and a newly advanced one at that. With little effort, Xu Mo had scared them off.

He didn't kill them.

It might sound hypocritical—especially for a cultivator—but Xu Mo had never enjoyed senseless killing. While these beasts were by no means innocent, and their fangs bore the blood of many disciples and humans, he didn't consider it his job to deliver justice.

As long as they posed no threat to him, he would let them be.

He hadn't seen Wei Rong or Mei Xueyin since Wei Rong had swooped in to rescue her and taken her away. Xu Mo had no desire to appear before them again—especially not looking like a dying old man.

The cave had now become his home for the past four days.

Within that time, his cultivation had risen to the peak of Qi Condensation. The advancement had given him a temporary surge of vitality, a fragile reprieve from the strange affliction that gnawed at his lifespan.

But it wasn't enough.

Frustrated, he found himself plucking out strands of his hair, trying to uncover the cause of this mysterious disease.

He remembered that moment back in the underground vault with Su Wenqing, when he had broken through the first stage of the Dao of Silence—Quiet Heart. In that very instant, he had sensed the presence of another force. Not the Dao of Silence, but something else entirely.

Something invasive.

Something foreign.

Something divine.

Another Dao Intent—that's what he called it.

The sensation was eerily similar to when the Dao of Silence had first integrated into his body. Yet this one lacked the natural synchronicity. It didn't arrive with guidance or resonance. It barged in like a thief.

Unlike the Dao of Silence, which had whispered truths and aligned with his spirit, this intruding intent brought with it nothing but decay. And it had rooted itself deep within him.

So, he had retreated into the shadows of the cave, hidden from the world.

He cultivated in stealth, shrouded by silence. The beasts he had initially scared off had not returned—intimidated by his aura, or perhaps sensing that he was not to be trifled with. As he trained, he remained an unseen witness to the chaos outside.

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He saw disciples kill one another over treasures. He watched alliances form and dissolve. Betrayals. Oaths shattered like fragile porcelain. New bonds forged in blood and desperation.

He never intervened.

He simply observed.

And through those observations, he gained insights—both into the nature of cultivation and into human nature. These insights accelerated his progress. They enriched his growing collection of notes—mental guidelines to avoid traps and handle social situations in the complex web of sect politics.

A particularly bitter scene stuck with him.

A female disciple had been betrayed by her so-called lover during a life-and-death situation. Her "best friend" had risked everything to save her. The way she now looked at that man—Xu Mo recognized it. Gratitude, confusion... and something else simmering beneath.

Dangerous emotions.

That moment vindicated his earlier decision to let Wei Rong take the credit for saving Mei Xueyin. Though the situations were different, the emotions they stirred were not. Attachment born of rescue was a volatile thing, and he wanted none of it.

He refocused on his biggest concern—this strange Dao Intent, which continued to drain his vitality.

He had already been cursed once by the Threadspike Capsule. He couldn't afford another unknown factor gnawing away at his body.

Suddenly, a memory surfaced—one he had tried to bury.

"...System," he muttered, "you once said I could unlock advanced functions by earning points. And to earn points, I had to make investments. But the last time I used a feature without having enough Villain Points, you just took my stuff. My storage bag. My treasures."

A pause.

Then the familiar, mechanical response echoed in his mind:

[Yes.]

Xu Mo gave a wry smile.

"Then... can I offer something? Anything? In exchange for a bunch of points?"

[You can.]

A twitch formed on his forehead.

He gritted his teeth. "Would it kill you to tell me things before I have to guess them?"

He took a breath to calm himself and then continued.

"I want you to evaluate the Dao Intent that's draining my lifespan. If the amount of points you offer in exchange seems fair, I'll consider handing it over. But let me be very clear—only touch the unknown Dao Intent inside me. If you make a mistake, believe it or not, I'll self-destruct right here and now. I refuse to let this world play with me like a pawn."

Xu Mo's voice—though silent to others—carried a chilling resolve in his thoughts.

[Evaluating...]

[Two Dao Detected.]

[Select which one you wish to evaluate:]

Dao of Silence

Dao of ◾◾◾ (Supreme Dao)

Xu Mo narrowed his eyes. The second Dao's name was obscured, replaced by blacked-out characters—◾◾◾—but the bracketed hint was clear:

(Supreme Dao)

His heart pounded.

He had never even heard of a "Supreme Dao" before. And yet, one had somehow taken root inside his body?

He didn't know if it was a blessing or a curse.

But instinctively, he felt it was better to hand this hot potato over to the system before it turned him into charcoal from the inside out.

He selected Option 2.

A new screen appeared before his eyes. A circular icon rotated slowly in the center, indicating the process was underway. Beneath it, a timer began counting down from 2 minutes.

The wait was nerve-wracking.

Finally, the results came.

[Evaluation Completed.]

[Exchanging: Dao of ◾◾◾ (Supreme Dao) = 10,000 Points]

[Do you want to complete the Dao Exchange Process?]

[Yes/No]

Xu Mo blinked.

10,000 points?

He hadn't expected such a high number. Was this Dao truly that valuable?

Still, the value meant little if it was eating away at his life.

He hovered over the decision. For a fleeting moment, he hesitated—what if he was making a mistake?

But then again, the world had already stripped him of so much.

With a cold resolve, he selected Yes.

What Xu Mo did not know was that in the coming days, he would come to regret this decision more than anything else. He would learn—too late—what the Supreme Dao truly was. And he would come to understand how thoroughly the system had exploited his ignorance.

At present, he was still in the dark.

And the worst part?

The store was still locked.

He couldn't even see how much the items inside cost.

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