What on earth could smell so bad

How should I put it?

Su Qi wasn’t exactly scamming an honest man.

If it had just been a sixth-tier cultist, he would’ve happily gone to claim the reward.

But a sixth-tier defeating a seventh-tier would drag too many complications in its wake.

It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but Su Qi wasn’t keen on stepping into "that circle" just yet.

The resources he needed were somewhat unconventional, making it hard to secure a steady supply.

Letting Li Hu take the credit while he pocketed the money was a win-win—hell, Li Hu was practically getting a free ride.

A promotion wasn’t guaranteed, of course. That would depend on what else they uncovered.

But a seventh-tier cultist emerging from an E-class mystic realm? That was no small matter.

The tangible benefits for Li Hu would far outweigh a measly fifty or a hundred grand.

At Li Hu’s age and power level, this position was pretty much the ceiling for him.

Did people really think becoming a superhuman meant you could ignore politics and connections?

Middle-aged, mediocre strength, no backers—no one in their right mind would promote him unless he broke past the tenth tier and became one of the rule-makers himself.

Su Qi pointed at the robed man. "Got the logic straight now?"

"Crystal clear."

Su Qi raised an eyebrow. "Then why aren’t you moving? Scared he’ll self-destruct?"

Li Hu rubbed his hands awkwardly. "Gotta fetch the special ropes first. Mine are only sixth-tier grade, but with him this beat up, he shouldn’t be able to break free."

He felt a little ashamed admitting it, but until the very moment he saw the robed man, he hadn’t believed a single word—or punctuation mark—out of Su Qi’s mouth.

Naturally, bringing ropes hadn’t crossed his mind.

Soon, Li Hu dashed back to the campsite and rummaged through his luggage.

For a grown man, no one expected his belongings to be neatly organized.

Before long, he returned and promptly tied up the robed man without another word.

Except…

Su Qi stared at the robed man now bound in a tortoise-shell harness…

He subtly inched away from Li Hu.

Who would’ve thought this gruff, thick-browed guy had such… interests in private?

Given how skillfully he’d done it, Su Qi didn’t even want to imagine what else Li Hu got up to behind closed doors.

Finally, Li Hu yanked off the robed man’s hood.

Beneath it was an utterly unremarkable face—early thirties, the kind you’d lose in a crowd.

After three seconds of staring, Li Hu shook his head. "Don’t know him."

Then he took off his shoe and stuffed his yellowed, grimy sock straight into the man’s mouth.

The robed man, who’d been barely clinging to life, suddenly mustered a surge of energy—probably sheer rage—and nearly broke free from Li Hu’s grip.

When his struggles proved futile, he could only glare furiously, muffled protests escaping around the sock.

Clearly, he found this treatment highly objectionable.

Su Qi almost felt that if they removed the sock now, the guy might spill secrets just to avoid further humiliation.

Suddenly, energy swirled around the robed man, distorting the air faintly.

"Shit, he’s gonna blow! Hit him, Tiger!"

Li Hu didn’t need the warning. It was too late to run.

Gritting his teeth, he delivered a resounding slap.

Crack!

The sound was crisp, almost musical.

Already critically injured, the robed man had only rallied enough strength to self-destruct because Li Hu’s actions were that infuriating.

But that slap did the trick.

Silence.

Tears welled in the corners of the robed man’s eyes as he passed out cold.

His last coherent thought was probably: Death before dishonor.

Li Hu kicked the unconscious man a few times, then nodded solemnly. "Out cold. But this bastard’s slippery—might try blowing himself up again when he wakes. Can’t keep him near the students."

"Gotta call HQ. Professionals need to handle this."

Pulling out a communicator, Li Hu reported the situation tersely to whoever was on the other end.

Hanging up, he flashed Su Qi an OK sign. "Twenty minutes till pickup. We’ll wait here."

"Sure."

As they waited, Li Hu struck up idle chatter. "Hey, Su Qi… can I get your autograph?"

Su Qi: ???

What?

Having breached the awkwardness, Li Hu rambled on. "Look, bluntly speaking? This is as far as I go in life."

"If not for this fluke, I’d never have crossed paths with someone like you."

"Sign something for me. When I’m old, basking in the park sunlight, I can brag to my grandkids."

"Back in the day, your grandpa fought side by side with Great Xia’s Pathseeker! He took the hits head-on while I struck from the shadows—two sixth-tiers bringing down a seventh, foiling a cultist plot!"

"What? You say Grandpa’s lying? Well, here’s Pathseeker Su Qi’s handwritten signature to prove it!"

Su Qi had to admit, the mental image was vivid.

Problem was, he wasn’t a Pathseeker.

This lie was spiraling out of control.

But it was the only quick fix he’d thought of.

Trying to deflect, Su Qi asked, "Li Hu, how old’s your kid? Planning that far ahead?"

Li Hu lit another cigarette. "Kid? My girl ditched me last month for some other guy. With my job? Always in the field, barely home. Can’t blame her."

"Should’ve settled down in college. Now it’s all blind dates with women treating me like a damn wishing-well turtle…"

He took a drag, but before he could continue, a roar split the sky.

Credit where it’s due—the authorities were efficient.

The night air shimmered, rippling like a stone dropped into water. Translucent waves spread outward as space itself tore open.

A figure descended, hands clasped behind his back.

He wore flowing azure robes, sleeves embroidered with intricate cloud patterns that glimmered faintly.

At his waist hung a violet sword, its blade clear as starlight, luminous like moonlit agate.

His brows arched like crescent moons, radiating confidence.

Every inch of him exuded an otherworldly aura.

Hovering midair above the two, he regarded them calmly.

Li Hu’s spine straightened instantly. He stubbed out his cigarette, stamping it out nervously. "You’re handling this personally, sir?"

Su Qi didn’t recognize the man, but he clearly wasn’t a Cardholder—probably a cultivator.

He didn’t keep up with such figures.

But tearing through a mystic realm’s barrier?

Minimum… tenth-tier.

Yet he couldn’t be higher than that.

Eleventh or twelfth tiers wouldn’t bother with such "trivial" matters.

"Who’s this?"

Li Hu whispered, "Tenth-tier Carefree King, Qiu Fuchun. Don’t let the cool entrance fool you—guy’s kinda…"

Li Hu immediately shut his mouth.

Because Qiu Fuchun had already begun sizing up Li Hu and Su Qi.

He glanced again at the robed man lying unconscious on the ground.

His brows furrowed tightly, and he didn’t respond to Li Hu’s remark: "Just the two of you?"

There was no condescension in his tone—just pure bewilderment.

That cultist was no ordinary seventh-tier practitioner; he was just a couple of months away from breaking through to the eighth tier.

Once he reached the eighth tier, he’d be someone of considerable standing.

To have his plans foiled in such a backwater place—now that was a stroke of rotten luck.

"I’ll take him with me."

"Right now, the highest-ranking Great Xia official in this source realm is only sixth-tier. Considering the number of students present, I had to rush here as fast as possible."

Su Qi frowned. The highest was only sixth-tier?

Before Su Qi could dwell on it, Qiu Fuchun flicked his fingers, and the robed man shot toward him like an arrow loosed from a bow.

With a casual wave of his sleeve, the robed man landed smoothly in his grasp.

The motion was effortlessly cool.

But his composure lasted all of three seconds.

The carefully crafted "mysterious master" image shattered instantly.

The moment the robed man touched his hands, Qiu Fuchun dropped him straight to the ground and leaped back three steps, grimacing. "What the hell? How can something reek this bad?"

The impact of hitting the ground jolted the unconscious robed man awake. The searing pain nearly made his vision blur, and with a muffled groan, he prepared to self-destruct again.

Pinching his nose, Qiu Fuchun stepped forward and slapped the man’s attempt to detonate into silence. "Damn it, when was the last time you bathed? And you have the nerve to act aggrieved?"

And just like that, the hot potato was finally off their hands.

Qiu Fuchun came and went in a flash.

With a wave, he tore through space and vanished without a trace.

"Hey, maybe someday you can brag to your grandkids—'Back when I was sixth-tier, I made a tenth-tier expert retreat three whole steps, and he didn’t even dare get close after that.'"

Li Hu: ???