It was another function of the lantern he had with him.
He instinctively understood that by crippling this boy today, he had successfully derailed a fate built on countless corpses and victims. As his mind analyzed the feeling, Su Ming quickly deduced the rule.
The clarity of the 'Echo' was directly proportional to the amount of Samsara Resin harvested.
A single drop yielded a faint realization. A massive harvest, perhaps like the actual death of a Heaven's Chosen, would likely trigger a full vision of the severed timeline.
'So that truly means this is not the end of Lin Fan,' Su Ming realised.
Although he was not particularly concerned about Lin Fan, a part of his mind still felt the urge to simply draw his sword and finish the job right now.
'Alas, it is too late.'
With the Wang Clan Head standing right there, he had to maintain his righteous image.
"It is done," Wang Zheng breathed heavily, stepping back from the broken body. He turned to Su Ming, bowing deeply. "Peak Master Su, the Wang Clan is eternally in your debt. But... what of our ancestral sword?"
Wang Zheng looked at the Crimson Blood Sword with deep concern. The heirloom was a prized possession, granting sub-Core Formation cultivators power equal to the next major realm.
Su Ming sighed, playing the part of the burdened hero perfectly.
"I cannot allow you to take it back to Greenwall City," Su Ming said gravely. "This weapon is heavily corrupted by demonic qi. If returned to your estate, the necrotic aura will slowly leak, poisoning your grounds and permanently crippling the cultivation of your descendants."
The enforcers shuddered, and Wang Zheng looked absolutely horrified.
"I must confiscate it," Su Ming declared. "White Lotus Peak possesses the arrays necessary to cleanse this level of corruption."
Wang Zheng bowed even deeper. "If you are willing to take this cursed object away from us, we are eternally grateful."
Su Ming nodded. "It is my duty as a follower of the righteous path."
Wrapping the cracked sword in his qi, he deposited it into his storage ring. The heirloom, containing the rich blood essence, was now legally his.
"Secure the demonic cultivator," Wang Zheng ordered, his voice icy. "Throw him in the deepest level of the dungeon."
The enforcers quickly shackled the unconscious Lin Fan, hauling him off. Wang Zheng then turned to Su Ming, his posture shifting from grieving father to respectful host.
"Peak Master Su, please allow us to host you and your disciple at our main estate. We must offer a proper reward."
Su Ming glanced at Lin Yao, who gave a subtle nod. "We accept, Patriarch Wang. Lead the way."
***
The Wang Clan's main estate in Greenwall City was a sprawling complex of heavily fortified stone pavilions, guarded by layered defensive formations. Under normal circumstances, an elder of the Heavenly Cloud Sect would be greeted with polite, distant respect.
Tonight, however, Su Ming and Lin Yao were received as absolute saviors.
They were ushered into the central grand hall, where tables were quickly laden with high-grade spiritual wine, roasted spirit-beast meats, and fragrant spiritual teas. The atmosphere was a strange mix of solemnity, given the fate of the heir, Wang Tian, and overwhelming relief that a demonic crisis had been averted.
Wang Zheng, having washed the grime and blood of the Withered Valley from his armor, sat at the head of the long wooden table. He looked years older, his burly frame slumping slightly as the adrenaline faded.
"Peak Master Su," Wang Zheng began, his voice gravelly but deeply sincere. "I cannot overstate what your intervention means to our clan. Not only did you capture the beast who crippled my son, but you prevented our ancestral heirloom from becoming a demonic anchor. We owe you a debt of blood."
Su Ming took a slow, measured sip of his spiritual tea. "It is merely the responsibility of the righteous path, Patriarch Wang," Su Ming replied smoothly. "Demonic cultivators are a cancer upon the world. Left unchecked, that boy would have eventually targeted Greenwall City itself."
Wang Zheng nodded grimly. He gestured to one of his senior elders, who stepped forward carrying a heavy, ornate wooden chest. The elder placed it on the table and opened the lid.
Inside lay neatly stacked rows of high-grade spiritual stones, radiating a dense, intoxicating spiritual energy. It was a staggering sum—easily equivalent to several years of the Wang Clan's total liquid revenue.
"Please accept this," Wang Zheng said. "A one-time bounty of twenty-five thousand spirit stones. It is a small amount in front of the mighty Heavens ciould sect, but it is the utmost we can offer on short notice as a token of our eternal gratitude."
Lin Yao, standing quietly behind Su Ming, briefly widened her eyes. Twenty-five thousand spirit stones were an astronomical fortune for an average cultivator. With that much capital, White Lotus Peak could rebuild itself multiple times over.
But Su Ming barely glanced at the chest.
His calculating instincts, honed over a lifetime, kicked in instantly. A one-time payout was a foolish, short-sighted gain. True wealth was not about the absolute sum in your pocket today; it was about establishing long-term, sustainable streams of resources that required zero maintenance, i.e., passive income.
"Patriarch Wang," Su Ming said, gently closing the lid of the chest. "While your generosity is profound, I must decline this bounty."
Wang Zheng blinked, clearly taken aback. "Peak Master Su... is it not enough?"
"It is entirely too much," Su Ming countered flawlessly. "I am the White Lotus Peak Master of the Heavenly Cloud Sect. If I were to accept a mercenary's bounty for eliminating a demonic threat, what does that say about the integrity of my sect? We do not sell our protection."
The Wang Clan elders exchanged deeply impressed glances. Such unshakeable righteousness! Such noble bearing!
"However," Su Ming continued, his tone shifting from a righteous elder to a pragmatic diplomat. "I am aware that the Wang Clan's operations have suffered recently, particularly due to the loss of several minor spirit veins in the northern territories."
Wang Zheng sighed heavily. "News travels fast. Yes, our resource output has plummeted. Without my son to lead our hunting parties, and with the recent territorial disputes... times are hard."
Su Ming reached into his robes and withdrew one of the three jade slips. He placed them deliberately on the table.
These were the slips he had looted from Lin Fan's spatial ring, the maps guiding the protagonist to undiscovered, highly lucrative "fated encounters."
"While tracking the demonic cultivator, I uncovered a hidden valley deep within the Withered Mountain range," Su Ming lied effortlessly. "Within it lies an untapped mid-grade spirit vein, a dense deposit of iron-wood, and a secluded alcove containing a natural garden of century-old spiritual herbs."
Wang Zheng's eyes widened. "An untapped vein? Inside the Withered Mountains?"
"Indeed," Su Ming confirmed. "However, White Lotus Peak is currently focused on internal reconstruction. We simply do not have the manpower, the miners, or the logistical infrastructure to excavate and process these raw materials."
Su Ming tapped the jade slips.
"I propose an alliance, Patriarch Wang," Su Ming said, his tone persuasive and flawless.
"White Lotus Peak will provide you with the exact topographical maps, the safe routes through the miasma, and the clearance to operate under the protective banner of the Heavenly Cloud Sect. In exchange, the Wang Clan will provide the labor, handle the excavation, manage the logistics, and take on the operational risks."
He paused, letting the immense value of the offer sink in.
"We split the net yield," Su Ming concluded. "Sixty percent to White Lotus Peak, forty percent to the Wang Clan. In perpetuity."
The hall went dead silent.
The Wang Clan elders stared at the jade slips as if they were made of solid gold. For a regional clan, securing a new, untapped mid-grade spirit vein was a generational game-changer.
But doing it under the explicit, authorized protection of a Heavenly Cloud Sect Peak Master?
It meant none of their rival clans would dare attempt a hostile takeover.
"Forty percent," Wang Zheng repeated, his voice thick with emotion. Even with the smaller share, being handed a protected mid-grade spirit vein was the key to his clan's long-term survival. With the Heavenly Cloud Sect providing the ultimate umbrella of protection, no rival would dare interfere.
"Peak Master Su... this is... more than we could have ever hoped for."
"Let's just say, it is an investment in regional stability," Su Ming replied calmly. "A thriving Greenwall City benefits the sect. Can I assume we have a deal?"
"You have a deal," Wang Zheng agreed instantly, standing up and bowing so deeply his forehead nearly touched the table.
"The Wang Clan accepts these terms with the utmost honor."
***
An hour later, the negotiations were formalized. To ensure the legality of the deal, Wang Zheng personally escorted Su Ming to the Greenwall City Grand Auction House, a prestigious and completely legitimate establishment owned by the Wang Clan.
Within the opulent, heavily warded private offices of the Auction House, the contracts were drawn up and signed. The Wang Clan officially registered the establishment of the 'White Lotus Mining Initiative.'
As the ink dried, Wang Zheng turned to Su Ming.
"Peak Master Su," the Patriarch said quietly. "You refused the bounty of spirit stones, but I must insist you take a physical token of our gratitude. It is a matter of our clan's face."
He gestured to the Auction House manager, who reverently brought over a small, velvet-lined box.
"We found this deep decades ago," Wang Zheng explained as he opened the box.
"Our appraisers have never been able to identify its exact nature, nor can any flame melt it or any blade scratch it. It is entirely useless to us, but it is the most ancient artifact in our vault."
Su Ming looked inside. Resting on the velvet was a palm-sized, heavily calcified object that resembled a curved, jagged stone.
His Essence Sight didn't even need to activate fully. The faint, ancient resonance in his mind recognized it instantly.
It was a Dragon Scale.
"I will accept this token," Su Ming said, carefully pocketing the ancient scale.