Eric Steele the old man carried Adam Brooks into the chess pavilion, grinning as he said to Henry Moore, “Today’s game was interrupted by me, so it doesn’t count. That means your master’s filthy, stinky medicine-washing robe will still have to be washed by himself.” Henry Moore, being familiar with him, exclaimed joyfully, “Thank you, Uncle Steele! Haha, Master, it’s not that your disciple is shirking the debt—since the dignified King Steele of the Immortal Realm is presiding, your disciple didn’t lose, and you, elder, didn’t win either.”

Doctor Gray didn’t mind, waving his hand and saying, “You two go on now. I have something to discuss with your Senior Steele.” Henry Moore and William Moore bowed and withdrew together.

Eric Steele set Adam Brooks down from his shoulder. Doctor Gray asked, “Who is he?” “Picked him up along the way—he’s also a Tribulation Immortal, just like me.” “Oh,” Doctor Gray was a bit surprised, “Tribulation Immortals are rare, only seen once in five thousand years. I didn’t expect to see two in three thousand years—the Immortal Realm has produced both of you.”

Eric Steele just smiled and said nothing more. Doctor Gray glanced at him; the atmosphere in the chess pavilion grew a bit subtle, but it was Doctor Gray who spoke first: “Have you really decided?” Eric Steele nodded seriously. “That’s why I came to you.” He looked at Adam Brooks, who was still sleeping beside him. “This child is also a Tribulation Immortal like me. Even if I do a good deed and lend him the Linglong Gall for five hundred years…”

Doctor Gray nodded. “Alright, since your mind is made up, I won’t try to persuade you further. It’s just that…” Eric Steele chuckled, “I know: among immortals, you’re the ghost; among ghosts, you’re the doctor. Your ghostly hands are worth a fortune. Your medical skills don’t come cheap.” He casually reached into his robe and produced a beast-sealing talisman carved from white jade. Doctor Gray took it, examined it, and nodded. “Good, a ninth-rank immortal beast, the Bihui Qilin. My cave’s five elements are aligned to the east, which is the water position—using it as my guardian beast is perfect. As expected of the famous King Steele of the Immortal Realm—only a ninth-rank immortal beast for a single favor.”

“Shall we begin?” Eric Steele asked. Doctor Gray nodded and pointed at Adam Brooks. “Since you want to help him… pick him up and follow me.”

Doctor Gray was a Soul Immortal. With a turn and a float, he was already more than ten meters away without much effort. Eric Steele grabbed Adam Brooks from the ground and followed closely.

A long corridor from the pavilion led straight to a medicine hut, and even from afar, a simple medicinal fragrance could be smelled. Doctor Gray said, “Just right, we’ll use the Bihui Qilin you gave me to guard us.” He took out the beast-sealing talisman, infused it with a bit of green light, and the white jade suddenly shone brilliantly. Light and shadow swirled, condensing into a massive form. The Bihui Qilin was pale green all over, its skin like armor, its teeth like sharp blades, and immortal energy swirling around it—truly worthy of being a ninth-rank immortal beast.

Doctor Gray gave the Bihui Qilin a couple of instructions. The qilin, already able to understand human speech, nodded its huge head and obediently crouched outside the medicine hut, its bell-sized eyes scanning the surroundings warily. Doctor Gray led Eric Steele inside, pushed open a small door, and inside was a six-legged, round-bellied alchemy furnace blazing with fire, bubbling with steam.

“Let’s begin.” As Doctor Gray spoke, he opened his iron sandalwood medicine case. The upper layers were filled with bottles and jars, but on the bottom layer was a set of instruments resembling surgical scalpels, all made from the finest immortal jade, thin as cicada wings and lustrous. Doctor Gray took out a piece of white jade from the case and chanted, “Mustard seed becomes Sumeru, white jade forms the hall—now!” A flash of white light, and the three of them were now inside a white jade hall, the surroundings built from spotless jade, beautiful and flawless.

Doctor Gray said, “This is where I perform surgery—guaranteed no outside interference.” In the white jade hall, two jade beds curved gently at the ends, forming a smooth arc. Eric Steele first placed Adam Brooks on one of the beds, then lay down on the other himself. Doctor Gray produced three green jade needles. “Are you ready?” Eric Steele nodded, glanced at Adam Brooks beside him, and thought to himself: The Linglong Gall helped me get to where I am today—may it help him safely through the next five hundred years as well.

Three green jade needles pierced his crown, and Eric Steele’s vision gradually blurred as his consciousness sank into darkness…

No telling how much time passed before Adam Brooks groggily woke up. A bright ray of sunlight stung his eyes. Adam Brooks frowned, propped himself up with both hands, and looked down to find himself lying on a dry, rocky ground. He stood up, patted the dust from his clothes, and looked around, discovering he was atop a high cliff. The rocks jutted out, with only a few tufts of dry grass growing in the cracks. To the north of the cliff, a stretch of white mist extended endlessly. That must be the “deathtrap” he had once been trapped in.

Now that he had escaped, Adam Brooks was overjoyed and certainly wasn’t foolish enough to go back and investigate. He didn’t bother to wonder how he had gotten out of the deathtrap, either. Checking himself, he found his bundle was still there, with all its parts intact. He used his path-finding technique once more, successfully found the way home, and used his immortal arts to break through the void and depart.

Back at his own Fushan cave dwelling, Adam Brooks spent an entire day reassembling the massage chair—destruction is always easier than creation; disassembly was simple, but putting it all back together was no easy task.