Han Yu stopped near one of the testing platforms, observing a newly assembled unit. Its frame was sturdier than earlier versions, its core refined, its array inscriptions more intricate.

A disciple approached him cautiously.

"Senior Brother Ju, this one is ready for deployment."

Han Yu stepped closer, placing a hand lightly on the puppet’s surface. His spirit sense flowed into it, scanning the internal structure, the resonance pathways, the energy flow.

After a few seconds, he nodded.

"It is stable. Send it to Section Three. Monitor its performance over five cycles before adjusting."

The disciple bowed deeply.

"Yes, Senior Brother!"

He hurried off, his excitement barely contained.

Han Yu watched him go, a faint sense of satisfaction settling within him.

The puppets were already being deployed.

Only in the safer sections of the mine for now, areas that had not suffered major collapse. Even so, the results had been promising. Output had resumed in a controlled manner, and the risk had been significantly reduced.

And with that...

Came profit.

Han Yu’s lips curved slightly as he thought about it.

Originally, he had been set to receive royalties from the production of the puppets. A fair arrangement, given his contribution.

But things had changed.

As a Legacy Disciple, his position carried weight.

Recognition.

Authority.

Value.

The Sect Master himself had made the decision.

Han Yu would receive 0.5 percent of the mine’s profits.

On paper, it sounded small.

In reality...

It was enormous.

The scale of the mine’s output, even in its current limited state, meant that this percentage would translate into a steady and significant flow of resources.

More than the puppet royalties.

More than enough.

Han Yu exhaled quietly.

He had not yet received the first distribution, but it would come soon. A month or two at most.

When it did...

He suspected he would need more storage rings.

He turned his attention back to the peak.

Disciples continued to work around him, energized by his presence, inspired by the progress being made. Unlike the forced respect elsewhere, the atmosphere here carried something genuine.

They respected him for what he did.

For what he created.

For what he understood.

Han Yu walked further into the Puppet Peak, his earlier indulgent thoughts settling into focus once more.

Here he was not just a Legacy Disciple.

He was a craftsman.

And that... was something he truly enjoyed.

Time moved forward with an ease that almost felt unreal.

For Han Yu, the chaos that had once defined his life had settled into something far more controlled. Days no longer carried the same urgency or danger. Instead, they unfolded with a steady rhythm, one that balanced cultivation, influence, and quiet planning.

He was twenty seven now.

That number lingered in his thoughts longer than expected.

More than a decade had passed since he first stepped onto the path of cultivation. When he looked back, it did not feel like ten years. It felt like fragments. A handful of moments stitched together into something much larger.

He could still remember the encounter.

The Ghostly man.

The Bolt God Fist.

At the time, it had felt like a turning point. A beginning.

Now, it felt like something from another lifetime.

Han Yu stood on a terrace overlooking one of the inner valleys of the sect, his gaze distant as he let the wind brush past him. His presence was calm, yet heavy in a way that no ordinary cultivator could replicate.

His Qi cultivation had reached the Infant Soul Stage of the Nascent Soul realm.

That alone placed him among the elites.

But his true strength...

Lay elsewhere.

His soul.

The Soul Expert Stage of the Harvester Realm.

A level that allowed him to stand on equal footing with peak Nascent Soul cultivators. A level that gave him an advantage few could comprehend, and even fewer could resist.

Of course, no one within the sect knew of this.

To them, Ju Fan was strong.

Exceptionally strong.

But still within reason.

They had seen his battles. They had witnessed his techniques. They had experienced the oppressive chill of the Freezing Abyss Glacial Art.

And yet...

They had only seen part of him.

Han Yu turned slightly, his thoughts shifting.

Unlike most Legacy Disciples, he did not remain hidden within secluded cultivation grounds. He appeared frequently. He participated in training. He even joined the quarterly assessments that were usually meant for lower ranked disciples.

At first, it had confused many.

Why would a Legacy Disciple involve himself in such things?

Over time, the answer became clear.

He was not there for prestige.

He was there to refine.

To observe.

And to build.

During those sessions, he did more than fight. He corrected mistakes. He offered insights. He demonstrated techniques in ways that others could understand. After all, he didn’t practice the basic Slaughtering Moon Blood Baptism Art he practiced the Moon Conquering Divine art which granted him greater understanding.

A single sentence from him could resolve confusion that had persisted for months.

A small adjustment he suggested could change the outcome of a disciple’s cultivation.

And for that...

They were grateful.

Even the crazy blood sect disciples knew when to be thankful.

Gratitude turned into respect.

Respect turned into loyalty.

And loyalty...

Became power.

Han Yu had not planned it in detail, but the result had formed naturally. Those who benefited from his guidance began to gather around him. Disciples spoke of him. Others sought him out.

He rewarded those who showed effort.

He did not hoard resources.

He distributed them with purpose.

A spirit stone here.

A cultivation pill there.

Occasionally something far more valuable.

He had the means.

More than enough.

At this point, his wealth had reached a level where it had become difficult to quantify in practical terms. Storage rings filled with resources sat unused simply because he had not needed to touch them.

If he truly wished, he could throw out spirit stones daily for years and still have more remaining.

Of course, he did not do that. He was not careless. But even measured generosity was enough.