“Whenever he moves his head, his hair follows,” Jinjing continued, her voice tinged with admiration, “…flowing in the air like strands of silk. And afterward, it falls back perfectly into place, still neat and straight, as if it’s just been combed.”

Her description was vivid, almost reverent. The dreamy tone in her voice was unmistakable.

“You said you didn’t get a good look at his face,” I remarked dryly, “but it seems you’ve been staring at his hair instead.”

“Ah…”

Even though my poor vision couldn’t catch her expression, I knew she was blushing.

“It’s because…” she stammered, “I was jealous of his hair. I couldn’t keep my eyes off it while you two were talking earlier. I thought it was so unfair that a man like him has such beautiful hair while a woman like me has to struggle with these tangled curls every day.”

I glanced at her silhouette, the faint outline of her wavy hair catching the dim light. “Your hair is beautiful as it is.”

“You can’t tell,” she replied, a hint of a laugh in her voice. “Your eyes aren’t fine, so you wouldn’t know.”

That might be true, but I meant what I said. “As you’ve pointed out, he’s wealthy and has servants to care for his hair. If he were born a commoner, I doubt his hair would look the way it does now.”

“You’re right,” she said with a sigh. “The privilege of being rich.”

“How old do you think he is?” I asked, shifting the topic.

“Judging by his appearance, I’d say he’s in his late twenties, maybe early thirties,” she replied thoughtfully.

Late twenties… That aligned closely with my earlier guess based on his voice.

I tried to conjure an image of the man who had traumatized me as a child. His face was still a blur in my memory, but I could recall his eyes—dark and intimidating, even to an adult, let alone a frightened five-year-old.

“He looks that young?” I asked, trying to reconcile her observation with my fragmented memories.

She nodded. “But I could be wrong. It’s hard to gauge the age of someone from a noble family. Wealthy men don’t do hard labor, and their servants pamper them endlessly—taking care of their skin, their hair, everything. It’s possible he’s older than he looks.”

“You think he’s a noble?”

“He has the bearing of one,” she said. “And his robe—oh, it’s made of the finest silk brocade. Just one look, and you know it’s something only a noble could afford.”

I nodded, reflecting on her words. Even with my limited vision, I hadn’t missed the man’s commanding presence. His arrogant, imperious tone and his air of unshakable confidence were marks of someone accustomed to wielding power and wealth.

“Why did you ask?” she said, curiosity creeping into her voice.

“Because he told me earlier that he’s older than my master,” I replied, the memory still fresh in my mind. “Which I found… preposterous.”

“How old is your master?”

“He’s sixty-three.”

Her gasp was audible. “That’s impossible! Even if he’s older than he looks, he can’t possibly be more than forty.”

“Unless,” I said, my voice heavy with hesitation, “he really is Ruan Yanjun.”

Her reaction was immediate, her voice rising in alarm. “He really is?!”

I shook my head, my thoughts conflicted. “I don’t want to believe it. My master was a righteous man—he would never have associated with someone like Ruan Yanjun. But…” I trailed off, reluctant to dismiss the mounting evidence simply because it was inconvenient.

I took a deep breath and continued. “Ruan Yanjun is… the strongest cultivator in the world. Once a person reaches the grandmaster level, aging slows down drastically. For someone of his level, aging… essentially stops.”

“Wow,” she whispered, the awe in her voice unmistakable. “So you’re saying Lord Lan might really be Ruan Yanjun. He just… didn’t age?”

“It’s possible,” I admitted, the weight of my words sinking heavily between us.

If this man truly was the infamous Devil of the South, then my already precarious situation had just become infinitely more dangerous.

“Had I known that, I should’ve joined a sect when I was young,” Jinjing said wistfully.

I smiled faintly, sensing her aura to gauge her sincerity. “Not everyone can become a grandmaster. Ordinary humans can’t possibly reach that level unless they possess a core to enhance their attributes. Even then, sustaining a core requires a solid foundation, and building that foundation must begin at a very young age. Not everyone is capable of it.”

“You mean like a light core or a dark core?” she asked, her tone tinged with curiosity.

I nodded. “Exactly.”

“And what is a foundation?”

“It’s the totality of a person’s strength—internal and external. It’s not just about physical prowess. Mental and emotional stability are equally important. A weak foundation will collapse under the immense power of a core.”

She tilted her head, her silhouette betraying a hint of hope. “Do you think I have a good foundation?”

I reached for her hand and lightly pressed my fingers against her wrist. After a moment, I shook my head. “I’m afraid… your foundation is weak. Unless you can afford to pay, no sect would consider accepting you.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment was audible.

“Don’t be disheartened,” I said gently. “You should be relieved. You’ve saved yourself from the wasted effort of pursuing something that wouldn’t have worked out.”

She sighed. “You’re probably right. But, back to you… You were a level seven cultivator, right? That means you were a grandmaster?”

“Was,” I corrected her, the weight of the word pressing heavily on me. “My cultivation has been nullified. Now, I’m at level zero.”

“Oh…” She sounded genuinely sorry. “What about Ruan Yanjun? What level is he?”

“Although he’s not officially recognized, he is one of the very few—perhaps the only one alive—who has reached level nine.”

Her gasp was sharp and astonished. “Level nine?!”

I nodded. “He’s achieved the pinnacle of cultivation. Throughout recorded history, only three cultivators have ever reached that level, and he is one of them.”

“Wow,” she breathed. “But I’ve heard there’s something beyond that—something about immortality. Has anyone ever reached that level?”

“The ninth level is the immortality stage,” I explained. “Anyone who achieves it becomes immortal. Their body no longer ages, and they can live indefinitely.”

“So you’re saying… Ruan Yanjun is an immortal?”