The dream of Yunmeng Ze had fully dissipated. The lingering scent of apricot blossoms in the air was no longer an illusion but the genuine fragrance drifting from the distant groves of the Qingyuan Sect.

Situ Ding, the once-mighty Deputy Cult Master of the Demon Summoning Cult, knelt on the ground, his eyes vacant. His Dharma Body was intact, his Vital Energy was still vast, but his Spirit Soul was a shattered ruin. The will to fight, the very foundation of a martial artist, had been ground to dust within Qin Yuzhi's meticulously crafted nightmare.

Shangguan Wencang stood before him, his simple Daoist robes fluttering in the mountain breeze. He no longer projected the overwhelming aura of a fake Eighth Realm master. He was just himself, a Sixth Realm cultivator, yet his presence was more terrifying to the broken Situ Ding than any display of raw power.

"Senior Qin's methods are truly... profound," Shangguan Wencang said, his voice holding a note of genuine admiration. He glanced in the direction of the Autumn Water Pavilion, a silent acknowledgment of the woman who had won this battle without throwing a single punch.