The stone door of the cave dwelling slid open silently, releasing a cool scent of sandalwood laced with a suffocating pressure.

Zhao Ming took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The interior was dimly lit. A few green lamps burned faintly, illuminating a red sandalwood table. Behind it, a young man in black robes was painting.

His brushstrokes were sharp as knives, outlining an eagle soaring through the sky with predatory grace.

This was Lin Lang, the Second Young Master of the Lin Family.

He was also a core disciple of the Divine Wood Sect, with cultivation at the peak of the Golden Core Realm. Among the younger generation, he was second only to the Holy Son, Shen Xing.

The Lin and Shen families had long-standing grievances, so Lin Lang had always kept a watchful eye on Shen Xian.

Without looking up, Lin Lang asked in an indifferent tone, “What is it?”

Zhao Ming bowed deeply. “Senior Brother Lin, Shen Xian has established his foundation.”

The brush paused.

A drop of ink fell onto the rice paper, blooming into a dark, jagged stain.

Lin Lang slowly raised his eyes. They were narrow phoenix eyes, cold as a winter pond. “Oh?”

“Today,” Zhao Ming lowered his voice, “he registered for the Godfiend Battlefield and publicly displayed his Foundation Establishment cultivation. It caused quite a stir in the inner sect.”

Lin Lang set down his brush, thoughtful. “Over a year ago, he was still at the sixth layer of Qi Refining.”

“Exactly,” Zhao Ming nodded vigorously. “He was away for several months recently. It’s likely his family helped him force a breakthrough.”

He refused to believe that trash had broken through on his own. It had to be the Shen Family’s resources piling up to create a hollow Foundation Establishment cultivator.

“Interesting.” Lin Lang leaned back, a flicker of light passing through his eyes.

His mind drifted back to the Spirit Beast Pavilion in the Ye Family’s main city.

He had gone there specifically for the Thunder Pattern Spirit Cat. That beast was crucial for his spiritual body’s transformation. Yet, that idle wastrel had intervened, snatching the cat from right under his nose.

He had been waiting for a chance to take it back ever since Shen Xian entered the sect.

“Senior Brother Lin, if that trash dares to participate in the qualification battle, I have a hundred ways to finish him off,” Zhao Ming declared, his voice dripping with confidence.

Even if Shen Xian had broken through, he was merely at the early stage. Zhao Ming was already at the late stage of Foundation Establishment. Crushing him would be child’s play.

“No rush. Wait for him inside the ruins,” Lin Lang said calmly.

Although identities were concealed during the qualification battles, the Shen Family might have protective measures in place. The sect’s higher-ups wouldn’t sit idly by while a direct descendant was slaughtered in a preliminary round.

Inside the Godfiend Battlefield, however… accidents happened.

Zhao Ming frowned, puzzled and unwilling. “Senior Brother Lin, this is a perfect opportunity.”

He knew his aptitude was mediocre. Without the Lin Family’s support, he might never reach the Golden Core Realm. He needed to prove his worth.

“Hmm?” Lin Lang hummed, a dangerous edge entering his tone.

Zhao Ming shuddered. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead, and he bowed lower. “I… I understand.”

“Just keep an eye on that cat,” Lin Lang said stiffly.

If Shen Xian died in the ruins without the cat, the beast would become ownerless anyway. If he brought it along? Even better. They could snatch it right there.

“This junior understands!” Zhao Ming hesitated, then asked, “Senior Brother Lin… what if he fails to qualify?”

Lin Lang sneered. “Trash or not, he’s Shen Family trash. How can commoners compare? Don’t worry. This happens once every five hundred years; the family won’t let him miss it.”

…

The news of Shen Xian establishing his foundation caused ripples within the inner sect, but the excitement was soon overshadowed by the tension of the upcoming qualification battle.

Upon hearing the news, Wei Zhaoli personally visited Rainfall Pavilion.

She brought several bottles of Essence Condensing Pills and a stack of Spirit Solidifying Talismans—top-grade resources for stabilizing a new foundation. The talismans, in particular, were crafted by her own hand.

“The early Foundation Establishment stage is vulnerable to unstable spiritual energy,” she said, placing the jade bottles on the stone table. Her voice was cool and clear. “Take one pill daily. It will help stabilize your meridians.”

Shen Xian accepted them.

He didn’t need them, of course. His foundation was flawless. But seeing the genuine concern in Wei Zhaoli’s eyes, he accepted the gifts solemnly.

In the following days, Wei Zhaoli visited often.

She checked his spiritual energy circulation and explained key points of cultivation, teaching earnestly. Shen Xian studied attentively, acting the part of the novice student perfectly.

They often sat in the courtyard for entire days. Wei Zhaoli’s cool voice intertwined with Shen Xian’s occasional teasing remarks, creating a domestic atmosphere that startled Xiao Bai so much it stopped hiding and napped brazenly on the table between them.

Soon, the eve of the qualification battle arrived.

Night fell like ink over Green Bamboo Peak. Bamboo shadows danced gracefully under the moonlight.

Wei Zhaoli arrived, stepping on the moonbeams. She stood before the courtyard gate, hesitating.

“What’s wrong?” Shen Xian appeared at the gate, smiling.

“Shen Lang…” Wei Zhaoli spoke softly, her voice carrying a faint affection. “Tomorrow’s qualification battle… you actually don’t have to participate.”

Shen Xian raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I… spoke to your brother,” she admitted quietly.

Due to concerns for his safety, Wei Zhaoli had privately sought out the Holy Son, Shen Xing. With Shen Xing’s endorsement, the sect was willing to grant Shen Xian a backdoor entry.

In the cultivation world, strength mattered, but status was equally indispensable.

Shen Xian was surprised.

She had gone to Shen Xing for him? That woman was usually too proud to ask anyone for anything.

She’s genuinely worried about me.

Shen Xian chuckled lightly. “This qualification battle… I definitely must participate.”

“Why?” Wei Zhaoli frowned, perplexed. “You just entered the Foundation Establishment stage. Why compete against those people? People like Zhou Ziling…”

“Those people?” Shen Xian cut her off. “You worry too much.”

He looked directly into her eyes, his smile undiminished. “It’s just a qualification battle. I’ll pass through properly.”

This wasn’t just about the spot. It was about cleaning up the flies that had been buzzing around him since he entered the sect. The ruins didn’t prohibit killing, but establishing dominance now would save him trouble later.

“Do you know the dangers involved?” Wei Zhaoli pressed.

“Dangers?” Shen Xian glanced casually toward Sword Peak. “Just a bunch of clowns jumping around. Nothing more.”

The night wind rose, swaying the bamboo.

Wei Zhaoli stared at him. For a moment, the man before her seemed different. Beneath the lazy, smiling exterior, something sharp and cold lay hidden.

“Do as you please then…” She stopped trying to persuade him. She turned to leave, then added one last line. “If things become impossible… don’t force yourself.”

“Mhm,” Shen Xian responded softly. “I remember.”

He watched her moon-white figure disappear into the depths of the bamboo shadows.

“Really, though…” He chuckled again, shaking his head. “She’s becoming more like a little girl now.”