While, on one side of the world, Aotian was attentively listening to Jian Huiyin’s lessons on feminine matters, on the other, he was relentlessly raiding sects and forces of the Formation Tier across the Four Middle Continents.

Thus, twenty days had passed since the tower was opened and since Jian Huiyin had instructed Jingjing on women’s matters.

Although not much had happened within the sect during that time, the same could not be said for the other continents.

Old Ancestor Mo was like a ghost, invading sect after sect without making a sound.

When people finally realized what had happened, they found only a simple message, written in fierce calligraphy, left on the spot where the treasures and inheritances had been plundered.

[He who oppresses others shall inherit no treasure of this world.]

The content was short and mysterious, and although it was strange to leave only a note after such a massive theft, the sects didn’t care about that. They only wanted to capture the culprit—whatever his motive might be.

Thus, they immediately dispatched their forces to pursue any possible leads. They weren’t too concerned about offending whoever had done it, or whether the enemy was particularly powerful—after all, a Void Refiner wouldn’t waste their time stealing the pitiful treasures of Formation-Tier sects, right?

But after days of searching, they found nothing. Nothing except one alarming discovery.

They suddenly realized that all the Formation-Tier sects around them had also been robbed—and were equally searching for the criminal.

Overnight, a name began to echo throughout the four continents.

The Phantom Thief… also called, with hatred and frustration, the Bastard Thief by the leaders of those sects.

In a bustling tavern, in the largest city of loose cultivators on the Nanyun (Southern Cloud) continent, two men quietly drank spiritual wine in a corner, listening to the noisy chatter of the crowd.

“… Yeah, from what I’ve heard, not a single Soul Formation sect or clan was spared by the Phantom Thief. He stole everything. Maybe he has some old grudge against those powers.”

A red-haired man spoke loudly, his face flushed with drunkenness as he downed another cup of wine. Yet, there was a clear hint of schadenfreude in his tone as he spoke about the matter.

Loose cultivators despised those arrogant powers who thought themselves the rulers of the world, so it was only natural for them to feel pleased upon hearing the news.

And indeed, not only the man, but others listening to him also smiled faintly.

The two men paying attention to that table raised their eyebrows with interest—but inwardly, they had the exact same thought.

‘Bah, I didn’t rob all of them! What a shameless exaggeration. I clearly spared the sects that weren’t too harmful or excessively tyrannical and cruel… Ahem! I only read their collections of techniques, that doesn’t count as stealing.’

Aotian rolled his eyes inwardly, with a playful sigh.

The two discreet men in the tavern, who were listening carefully to the conversations, were actually outer elders of the Shadow Pavilion, stationed on that continent to gather intelligence.

Aotian had left two such elders on each of the Four Middle Continents for that purpose, and thanks to that, he could closely follow the results of his own actions.

He knew very well that he hadn’t robbed everyone. He had carefully chosen who truly deserved to suffer losses.

In fact, the sects he didn’t rob had been warned beforehand to hide their treasures and techniques, pretend they had been victims, and send people to hunt for him.

Aotian did this not for fame, but to prevent the more righteous sects from becoming targets of the greed of those that had lost everything, and from being destroyed by alliances of their rivals.

Fortunately, a single warning was enough for those sects to know what to do.

Thus, the illusion was created that the Phantom Thief had robbed every sect without exception—though that wasn’t entirely true.

But one thing was certain: Aotian was rich again.

In this mission, it wasn’t only old Mo who acted, but also Bao Wuji—the most suitable for such large-scale thieving tasks due to his enormous storage space.

With so many appropriations of other people’s belongings, the sect’s treasury was overflowing once more—in fact, fuller than ever.

In total, he plundered the inheritances of 79 Soul Formation sects and the treasures of 68 of them.

In other words, after careful analysis, Aotian judged that only 11 of those sects were not evil—and that was without deep investigation. If he had been more rigorous, the number would have been even smaller.

‘Typical of the cultivation world.’ He rolled his eyes inwardly, reflecting on what power did to people.

Of those 11 he deemed relatively righteous, he didn’t actually steal their inheritances—he merely read and copied the knowledge without taking the originals.

Putting those thoughts aside, he turned his attention back to the nearby conversation.

“You think the Phantom Thief could be… Dong Xuan?” one of the men at the tables suddenly asked the drunken man who had spoken earlier.

But as soon as the name was mentioned, the hall fell silent, and the drunk man froze. Even his inebriated expression seemed to sober up.

After a few seconds of silence, he finally sighed.

“… Dong Xuan? They say he died being hunted by those powers, but with the talent he had, if he were still alive, it wouldn’t be impossible that he did this,” the man murmured, his eyes distant, filled with memories.

“It’s best not to mention that name. It can bring trouble. Besides, he was chased into the forbidden zone. No one has ever returned from there,” another said, shaking his head and sighing at the world’s tragedies.

The tavern, once noisy, fell into brief silence, and many grew pensive.

Aotian perked his ears at the name, intrigued.

He didn’t know who that was, but for everyone to fall silent and sigh at its mention, that person was certainly not ordinary.

He decided he would investigate more about it later.

…

Back in the sect, inside his cave, Aotian was sorting through the gains from his journey.

‘Two hundred and eleven Soul Formation techniques… still not enough to synthesize a near-perfect one. But I already expected such a result.’ He sighed, though he wasn’t very disappointed.

Despite harboring a faint hope, he knew that the chances of gathering more than three hundred techniques within those four continents were very low.

However, a faint smile appeared on his lips.

‘Although the number didn’t reach three hundred, it surpassed the halfway mark, which is already enough.’

Amused, he turned his attention to the eight inner elders of the Heritage Pavilion — four men and four women. With their Sage of Knowledge abilities, Aotian could generate more knowledge from pre-existing information, compensating for half of the missing data.

That way, two hundred and eleven techniques were more than sufficient. He only needed to wait a few days, since there was a massive amount of information contained in a technique of that realm, and the results would take some time to emerge.

‘Well, this result is better than I imagined. I thought I’d have to go to the Central Continent before being able to synthesize this… but even though I succeeded earlier, I’ll still send Mo Yexuan there. Only there will he be able to truly grow and secretly form an army while also obtaining treasures I need from that place.’

He reflected seriously.

Although he didn’t want to take any risks, the illusory urges to hurry—emanating from the will of the world—still persisted. They came as an instinctive anxiety that sent shivers through the fur of his ancestral-level avatars, accompanied by a pressing sense of urgency. He could do nothing but press on and hasten his plans.

‘Fortunately, to help with this endeavor, the number of Formation-Tier level spells I obtained is much greater than that of cultivation techniques, surpassing a thousand. That already allows me to synthesize near-perfect spells of this level immediately.’

A smile appeared on his face as he looked on the bright side of things, and he wasted no time — setting his vast number of minds to process the spells. Once finished, he would have Tian Zhu synthesize them.

Having concluded his plans, Aotian opened his eyes and stood up from the floor, where he had been sitting cross-legged. Out of habit, he patted his butt a few times, even though his spiritual energy prevented him from getting dirty.

“Ugh… I’m really busy today.” He sighed, stretching his back and walking toward the door of his room.

But the moment he opened it, he came face to face with two slightly nervous Rihais who were just about to call for him.

“Am I not punctual?” He raised an eyebrow and smiled teasingly, having opened the door at the exact moment they were about to knock.

Both rolled their eyes but soon smiled, looking a bit less tense.

Taking each of their hands, Aotian headed toward the cave’s exit.

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous, Hai’er,” he asked, glancing at the blonde wife.

“Well… a little.” She frowned slightly and nodded.

“Darling, you’ve spent a whole month perfecting your realm after that epiphany that brought you to the pinnacle of the Golden Core. Considering your physique, which you’ve also refined to this level, plus our dual cultivation, your flawless foundation, and the guidance I gave you — crossing this tribulation couldn’t be more guaranteed.”

He spoke firmly, trying to dispel her nervousness.

Yes, Rihai was about to undergo her tribulation.

When advancing from the Golden Core to the Nascent Soul, the first descent of tribulation occurred — one that had caused countless cultivators to fall throughout history. It was a judgment from the heavens, and there was no shortcut to overcome it.

That was why cultivating Golden Cores through pills and treasures was easy for great powers, but doing the same for Nascent Souls was impossible. A cultivator who relied on shortcuts could never overcome a heavenly tribulation.

Still, the tribulation, while difficult, wasn’t so terrifying for talented people with solid foundations — especially for Rihai.

If even she couldn’t make it through a Nascent Soul tribulation, how could anyone else possibly succeed?

Aotian spoke with authority, as he had already passed through more than a thousand tribulations.

Since he had made his outer elders advance rapidly using the Dew of the Dragon’s Lament, the system wasn’t responsible for their realm increase, meaning Aotian had to undergo the Nascent Soul tribulations himself.

Of course, he did so far away from the sect, as he didn’t want the disciples to have any clue about the true cultivation level of the elders.

And in all the elders’ tribulations, he passed them with ease.

Even advancing at high speed thanks to the dew, his energy control and understanding of the cultivation realms were extremely clear. With the sect’s powerful techniques and his foundation being a Supreme Supreme Golden Core, even though Aotian had somewhat forced the later advancements of his avatars, they could still overcome tribulations without difficulty.

If that was true for them, then even more so for Rihai, who advanced naturally and solidly.

Thus, Aotian continued to reassure her as they walked, and when they reached the cave’s entrance, the blue-haired Rihai pulled a black cloak from her storage ring.

Without wasting time, she put it on, concealing her face and figure — just as she and Aotian had agreed beforehand.

With that done, Aotian took both their hands and left the cave, flying directly toward the mountain peak.

Upon arriving there, they found Xuan Zhen, the leader of the Formation Pavilion, and beside him stood Jian Huiyin, her face solemn and her fists clenched.

It was clear she was nervous by the way her body reacted, even though her expressionless face revealed nothing.

She, too, would make her breakthrough to the Nascent Soul that day.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep