Dual Cultivation System: The Villainous Servant’s Rise

Xiao Yuruo’s gaze sharpened as she spotted the arrival of the Heavenly Void Sect’s delegation.

“That woman… is that the Heavenly Void Sect’s Saintess, Bai Ling?”

A flicker of displeasure rippled through her beautiful eyes, her delicate brows arching slightly. Bai Ling was a recent addition to the sect, but Myriad Sword Pavilion’s intelligence network was far too thorough to miss the details of a quasi-ninth-grade talent.

What irritated her wasn’t Bai Ling’s presence, but the pattern. Last time, at the spirit mine, Han Lie had the vixen Xiao Qingge hanging off his arm. Now, he had upgraded to the sect’s Saintess?

“It seems so,” a young man standing beside her remarked. He was dressed in pristine white robes, radiating an air of clean, elegant nobility. “Young Pavilion Master, although she has a high-grade spirit vein, she is still young. I judge her aura to be only around the Late Golden Core stage.”

He smirked dismissively. “Late Golden Core… in this shark tank, she is prey, not a competitor.”

The young man was Jiang Xingyu, a Core Disciple of the Myriad Sword Pavilion with a cultivation at the Perfection of the Golden Core stage. He was the sect’s premier talent—second only to Xiao Yuruo herself.

Xiao Yuruo glanced at him coolly but said nothing.

Jiang Xingyu, misinterpreting her silence as agreement, pressed on. “Is this the Han Lie you lost to last time? His aura is also just at the Golden Core Perfection stage. He looks completely ordinary. Logically speaking, how could the Young Pavilion Master lose to such a mediocre man?”

To the average male cultivator, Han Lie was indeed unremarkable. But to Xiao Yuruo, the Pure Yang Sacred Body he possessed was like a lighthouse in the dark. It exerted a magnetic pull she couldn’t explain—a biological imperative that whispered of compatibility and power. It was why she had approached him in Qingzhou City, and why she couldn’t look away now.

Hearing Jiang Xingyu belittle him—and by extension, her judgment—grated on her nerves.

“Well said,” Xiao Yuruo replied, her voice smooth but edged with ice. “Since you are so confident, when we enter the ruins, you can deal with Han Lie personally.”

“Uh…” Jiang Xingyu froze.

Xiao Yuruo had tested Han Lie’s strength firsthand. She knew that in a life-or-death battle, the outcome between herself and Han Lie was uncertain. But Jiang Xingyu? Han Lie would eat him alive.

“Young Pavilion Master, that… that won’t be necessary,” Jiang Xingyu stammered, his arrogance deflating instantly. “I was just joking! Don’t take it seriously.”

He wasn’t stupid. According to the intelligence reports, Han Lie had crushed Zhao Batian, the Sun Moon Sect’s Holy Son. Zhao Batian was a monster that even Xiao Yuruo treated with caution. Jiang Xingyu had only wanted to boost his own ego, not sign his own death warrant.

“Do I look like I am joking?” Xiao Yuruo asked, her gaze boring into him.

“I… I’ll shut up!” Jiang Xingyu retreated, sweating cold bullets.

High above the valley, Han Lie felt the weight of a gaze. His instincts prickled, and he turned his head, locking eyes with Xiao Yuruo across the vast distance.

“Brother Mo, who is that?” Bai Ling asked, following his line of sight.

“The Young Pavilion Master of the Myriad Sword Pavilion. Xiao Yuruo.”

“Her aura…” Bai Ling gasped, sensing the terrifying pressure radiating from the woman in white. “It’s suffocating. She’s at the absolute peak of the Golden Core.”

“Don’t worry about her. She isn’t our primary threat,” Han Lie said calmly.

His eyes swept the crowd, searching for a different signature—Zhao Batian. He scanned the Sun Moon Sect’s camp but found no trace of the arrogant Holy Son.

Not here? Or dead?

Han Lie suspected the latter. Zhao Batian had been caught in the crossfire of Ye Qingxuan’s power. Even a shockwave from a Nascent Soul cultivator could pulverize a Golden Core expert. If he was dead, that was one less headache.

“Let’s find a place to rest,” Han Lie commanded.

They descended into the dense forest surrounding the valley, claiming a secluded clearing. As the sky darkened, Han Lie lit a small, smokeless fire.

“Saintess, Xiao Zi. Stay here and guard the camp,” Han Lie said, standing up. “I’m going to the teahouse at the foot of the mountain to buy intelligence.”

A cluster of makeshift structures had sprung up near the valley entrance—opportunistic merchants selling supplies, tea, and most importantly, information.

“We want to go with you, Brother Mo!” Bai Ling said quickly, grabbing his sleeve. “Leaving us here alone… I’m a bit scared.”

Xiao Zi nodded vigorously from her shoulder, her eyes wide.

Han Lie paused. This place was a mix of fish and dragons—chaotic and lawless. Leaving a sheltered Saintess and a valuable spirit beast alone in the woods was indeed a recipe for disaster.

“Fine,” Han Lie agreed. “But once we are down there, you follow my lead. No wandering off.”

“Mhm!”

They made their way to the largest of the teahouses. It was a bustling, noisy establishment filled with smoke and the murmur of a hundred conversations.

“Oho! Welcome, Daoist, welcome Fairy!” The waiter, a sharp-eyed mortal with a towel over his shoulder, greeted them enthusiastically. “Please, come inside!”

The main hall was crowded. On a small stage in the center, a troupe was performing a loud, colorful opera, though few were paying attention. The real show was the crowd itself—cultivators from every sect and rogue background, sizing each other up.

Han Lie tossed a few spirit stones to the waiter. “A private room on the second floor. And bring your best tea.”

“Right away, sir!”

They were ushered into a private booth overlooking the main hall. It offered privacy but allowed them to watch the chaos below—a perfect vantage point.

“Daoist, Fairy, your tea. Please enjoy.”

As the waiter turned to leave, Han Lie raised a hand.

“Hold on, Xiao Er.” Han Lie’s expression turned serious. “Do you sell information here?”

The waiter stopped, his eyes lighting up with the universal gleam of greed. “We do, Daoist! We certainly do. What exactly are you looking for?”

Han Lie leaned forward, placing a heavy pouch of spirit stones on the table. The clinking sound cut through the noise of the opera below.

“I want a list of every major force present. Who is leading them? What is their cultivation? And most importantly… who are the hidden threats? The ones not wearing sect colors.”