Jiao Xiuyuan wasn’t the only one who had suffered a heavy blow from this incident.
A pall of gloom appeared to settle over Myriad Immortals Island and the entire Myriad Immortals Alliance in the following days. Every cultivator Li Fan encountered on the streets appeared distracted, their spirits broken.
He even heard that many cultivators, having lost everything, chose to end their lives in despair. At regular intervals, one could see fireworks blooming overhead.
Others, who had leveraged themselves heavily in hopes of a big win, found themselves buried under insurmountable debt after the catastrophic crash of Spirit Mist Grass prices. The sums were so vast they could never be repaid, even with a lifetime of labor.
Some chose to resist their creditors by force, while others outright defected from the Myriad Immortals Alliance, fleeing to the Five Elders Council.
So many cultivators were deserting that the Martial Hall found itself stretched thin, unable to handle the flood of traitors. The Tianxuan Mirror issued an unusual number of merit-based bounty missions, and there were no restrictions on how many one could accept, creating a surge of turbulence and unrest throughout the Xuanhuang World.
The impact of the Spirit Mist Grass incident was undeniable.
Li Fan took advantage of the chaos, completing several bounty missions himself and raising his permission level to Yan 8.
Strangely, however, the turmoil subsided on its own barely a month later. The sorrow etched on the cultivators' faces gradually faded, replaced by their usual vibrant expressions.
It was as if they had collectively forgotten the Spirit Mist Grass incident, rarely mentioning it in conversation. When it did come up, no one seemed bitter or regretful. Instead, they treated it with jest and mockery.
"You only lost fifty thousand contribution points and you’re complaining?"
"Ha! Every one of us lost at least eighty or a hundred thousand!"
Conversations like these became commonplace. Gradually, the collective memory of the Spirit Mist Grass event faded among the cultivators, leaving only the lamentation: "Contribution points are so hard to earn."
But Li Fan’s memory remained sharp. For one, he had emerged from the turmoil entirely unscathed. In fact, he was a beneficiary of the event, not a victim, so there were no painful memories to haunt him. Secondly, the staggering 650,000 contribution points he now possessed served as a constant reminder.
It seems I won’t have to worry about contribution points for a very long time. Li Fan mused, sending another message to He Zhenghao.
Earlier, Li Fan had paid He Zhenghao a visit. In this lifetime, He Zhenghao’s losses appeared even more devastating than in the twelfth lifetime. He seemed utterly broken, his gaze vacant and dull. When called, he would only respond out of instinct. It was only recently, under the influence of the Eternal Heavenly Venerable, that he began to recover slowly.
He was consumed by regret for not heeding Li Fan’s earlier warning. When he learned that Li Fan had successfully withdrawn before the bubble burst, his envy was palpable.
"Ah, Fellow Daoist Li Fan, if only I had listened to your advice back then..."
Li Fan had lost count of how many times he’d heard He Zhenghao say this.
"To be honest, investing requires a certain talent," Li Fan said gravely. "You, Fellow Daoist He, clearly aren’t suited for it. Take my advice: from now on, stick to earning contribution points through missions. At least you’re still alive and your cultivation remains intact. You can always start over!"
"Yes, yes, you’re absolutely right, Fellow Daoist," He Zhenghao nodded vigorously, then ventured cautiously, "How much did you... make this time?"
"Heh. A lot. An enormous amount," Li Fan replied cheerfully.
He Zhenghao’s face flushed with envy, his lips parting and closing several times as if he wanted to say more but couldn’t bring himself to speak.
Li Fan could tell he was considering asking for a loan, but was too proud to voice the request.
Li Fan wasn’t in a hurry to call him out on it. Instead, he decided to let him stew a while longer. After all, He Zhenghao wasn't the only Congyun Sea island guardian who had lost his life's savings through unfortunate investments.
Stowing the Myriad Communication Talisman away, Li Fan shifted his attention to Zhou Qing'ang on Tai'an Island.
The man appeared deeply agitated, his brow furrowed tightly as he paced back and forth. He seemed eager to take some action, yet was trapped in indecision.
Suddenly, his expression shifted. He produced a spirit talisman and spat with venom, "Pressing me again? It's just fifty thousand contribution points! Do you seriously believe an island guardian of my standing would default on such a petty sum?"
"Don’t worry, I'll repay everything by the end of the month!"
After storing the talisman, Zhou Qing'ang's face darkened with resolve. Having apparently reached a decision, he activated a Form-Concealing Talisman and slipped out of Tai'an Island's protection array.
He flew to a desolate, uninhabited stretch of sea and hovered momentarily. Then, his aura underwent a sudden transformation.
Through the perspective of heaven and earth, Li Fan witnessed the complete alteration of Zhou Qing'ang's physical form and features. This wasn't some simple misdirection technique; he had fundamentally become another person entirely.
The original Zhou Qing'ang had carried himself as a refined, scholarly youth. Now, he stood as a gaunt, utterly unremarkable middle-aged man.
Thus transformed, Zhou Qing'ang continued flying discreetly toward a specific destination.
Finally showing your true colors. A sharp glint flashed in Li Fan’s eyes.
He purchased an Image Recording Stone through the Tianxuan Mirror, gripping it firmly while subtly adjusting his observation angle. He began recording everything he witnessed through his divine sense.
After a full day's flight, Zhou Qing'ang arrived at a remote, uninhabited island as night descended.
The place stood utterly barren, devoid of even a single tree. Only endless stretches of broken rock and rubble met the eye.
Zhou Qing'ang landed and scanned his surroundings meticulously. Only after extensive observation, certain he hadn't been followed, did he begin searching through the island's stones.
After what felt like an eternity, he seemed to find his target.
A look of triumph crossed his features as he picked up an ordinary-looking rock. The stone appeared completely mundane, bearing no special markings or symbols. It was just pitted and uneven, with several small holes in specific positions.
Zhou Qing'ang studied the rock intently, committing the pattern of holes to memory. Then, with a sharp clench of his fist, he crushed the stone to dust.
He took flight again, heading northwest from the island.
Another half day passed before Zhou Qing'ang abruptly halted over another empty stretch of sea.
He plunged headfirst into the water, descending to the sea floor where ruins lay strewn about.
Zhou Qing'ang combed through the debris until he stopped before a particular, nondescript broken stone slab.
His hands glowed with earthy yellow light as he pressed his palms against the stone.
The patterns matched.
A beam of light erupted from the slab, sweeping over Zhou Qing'ang's entire body before retracting back into the stone.
The smooth, mirror-like surface of the broken stone suddenly displayed the image of a human face.
"Hm? Why are you contacting me so early? Wasn't our next meeting scheduled for six years from now?"
The face remained indistinct, but its expression was clearly puzzled as it scrutinized Zhou Qing'ang.
Zhou Qing'ang hesitated, stammering slightly, "Boss... the funds have run out. Could you possibly allocate a little more?"
The face seemed taken aback. "So soon? You've already spent it all?"
Then, as if recalling something, its tone shifted abruptly. "You fool! Don't tell me you've been speculating on Spirit Mist Grass prices too?"