Dual Cultivation System: The Villainous Servant’s Rise

After delivering a bland, lukewarm opening speech, Han Zhentian finally announced the official start of the martial competition.

Due to the sheer number of participants, the early elimination rounds were conducted in a chaotic frenzy, with multiple matches happening simultaneously across the vast training grounds. Han Zhentian and Li Susu’s primary focus remained solely on their son, Han Feng.

Meanwhile, on a less conspicuous stage, Han Lie advanced through the rounds with almost insulting ease, directly breaking into the top sixteen.

Then, he encountered a disciple from the Sun Moon Sect at the late Foundation Establishment Stage.

This time, Han Lie deliberately put on a performance. He engaged in a ‘fierce struggle,’ panting and staggering, before ‘barely’ securing his spot in the top eight with a hard-fought victory.

In the spectator stands, Li Susu noticed him.

“Husband, don’t you think this elderly Daoist cultivator from the Heavenly Void Sect looks somewhat familiar?” Li Susu whispered, her gaze fixed on Han Lie as he slowly walked off the martial stage.

“Does he?” Han Zhentian countered dismissively.

Since Han Lie had registered under the alias ‘Wang Xuan’, Han Zhentian hadn’t paid him much mind. A loose cultivator from a declining sect was hardly worth his attention.

“Hmm… perhaps I’m mistaken,” Li Susu murmured, rubbing her forehead.

She didn’t know if Han Zhentian had already forgotten, but as a mother, a shadow still lingered in her heart. She remembered their youngest son, Han Lie, whom they had sold to the Heavenly Void Sect to become a Servant Disciple all those years ago.

However… back then, Han Lie had been tested and found to possess only half a spiritual meridian. He was effectively a cultivation cripple.

Even if he were still alive, with his trash aptitude, reaching the Foundation Establishment Stage after a hundred years would be a miracle, let alone competing here. Moreover, this person was named Wang Xuan.

“Perhaps you’ve been overworking yourself lately with preparations for the competition, my dear. You should rest more later,” Han Zhentian said, patting her hand.

Li Susu remained silent. When she snapped out of her thoughts and tried to find the elderly Daoist’s figure again, he was already gone.

The competition continued.

The opponents Han Lie faced next were roughly on par with his concealed true cultivation level. Yet, Han Lie secured each of his victories with relative ease, playing the role of the lucky veteran to perfection.

On the other side, Han Feng’s early Golden Core Stage cultivation was simply a dimensional strike against the rabble. He crushed Foundation Establishment cultivators like bugs, barely lifting a finger.

Finally.

After several days of intense battles.

As expected, and without surprise to anyone.

Han Lie and Han Feng met in the finals.

On the day of the final match.

Half an hour before the official start.

The spectator seats at Qingzhou City’s central martial stage were packed to capacity. A sea of heads bobbed in anticipation, the noise deafening.

Many among them were not there to watch a thrilling match. They were there for one outcome: a slaughter.

Judging by surface strength alone, Han Feng, the young City Lord and genius of the Myriad Sword Pavilion, completely overpowered the obscure ‘Wang Xuan’.

Yet, there were still underground bookmakers daring enough to open odds.

The payout for Han Lie defeating Han Feng and winning the championship reached a staggering one to twenty-five. Han Feng’s odds were a pitiful one to one point zero one.

Even so, the vast majority of people bet their entire fortunes on Han Feng.

Although the return was low, this seemingly predetermined final was practically free money.

If not for Han Lie’s effortless journey to the finals, leading some to suspect he might be hiding a trump card, his odds would have been even higher.

At the same time, in a shadowed alleyway near the betting houses.

“Little one, help this poor Daoist go over there and place a bet of ten thousand Spirit Stones on Wang Xuan winning.”

Han Lie, disguised in rough linen robes, stopped a child in tattered clothes.

“This is your errand fee.” He pressed a small pouch into the boy’s hand.

“Okay! Thank you, Daoist!”

After receiving thirty Spirit Stones—a fortune for a street urchin—the child excitedly ran off to place the bet.

Han Lie watched him go. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to bet more. But he feared that if the payout was too massive, the bookmaker would simply flee or refuse to honor the debt. Ten thousand was the sweet spot.

A short while later, the child returned, breathless, the betting slip clutched in his grimy hand.

After safely storing the slip, Han Lie slipped into a secluded alley, shed his disguise, and restored his appearance as the elderly Daoist ‘Wang Xuan’.

He smoothed his white robes and headed towards the central martial stage.

Elsewhere, in the VIP prep room.

“Feng’er, you must not underestimate your opponent in this battle. That elderly Daoist from the Heavenly Void Sect is clearly concealing his true cultivation level,” Han Zhentian advised earnestly, his brow furrowed.

“Father worries too much. That old dog Wang Xuan is at the Foundation Establishment Perfection Stage at best,” Han Feng declared, checking his fingernails with bored indifference. “I’ll defeat him in no time. In front of a Golden Core powerhouse, even Foundation Establishment Perfection is no different from an ant.”

“Chang Sheng, listen to your father! In any case, do not underestimate your opponent! This concerns whether you can secure a position as a personal disciple within the Myriad Sword Pavilion!” Li Susu chimed in, her voice anxious.

“Mother, I don’t like hearing that word ‘secure’,” Han Feng sneered. “With my aptitude, isn’t it only natural that I become a personal disciple? You two enjoy worrying about useless things.”

Han Zhentian was about to reprimand him, but Li Susu stopped him with a look.

“Aren’t your father and I just thinking about your future? And you’re getting impatient?”

Han Zhentian pushed Li Susu aside gently and scolded, “Can’t you change this arrogant attitude of yours?”

“I can’t be bothered talking to you!”

Han Feng rolled his eyes at them both, turned on his heel, and stormed out without another glance. His parents were left standing there, watching helplessly as their son walked off.

“You…!” Han Zhentian sputtered.

“Alright, alright now, dear husband…” Li Susu smiled soothingly, though her eyes were narrowed. “As long as Chang Sheng wins the championship, everything will be fine. Saying more might harm the harmony between father and son…”

“Hmph! Isn’t how he turned out now because you spoiled him since childhood?”

In what seemed like an instant, noon arrived.

Drumbeats thundered, signaling the start of the finals. The atmosphere in the arena reached a fever pitch instantly.

Countless people held their betting slips high, chanting the name “Han Feng” until the ground shook.

Under the supervision of the Qingzhou City steward, the match officially began.

“First, entering the stage… contestant Wang Xuan!”

As soon as Han Lie stepped onto the platform, deafening boos erupted from the stands like a tidal wave, crashing over him relentlessly.

Han Lie stood calmly, hands clasped behind his back, eyes closed. His lips curled into an indescribable, mocking arc.

Laugh now, you trash. Those booing me now will feel utter despair later when I take your money.

“Daoist Lin!”

Just then, a somewhat familiar voice cut through the noise.

Han Lie’s eyes snapped open. He looked towards the source.

There, standing prominently in the front row of the spectator seats, was a figure he couldn’t mistake.

Xiao Yuruo!

Han Lie maintained his composure, offering her a slight, polite nod, but inwardly, he cursed.

No way… Has Xiao Yuruo been watching This Senior the entire time?

What should I do now?

According to Grand Elder Chi Lian’s instructions, after winning the championship, he had to announce his true name and origin to everyone present.

Wouldn’t that mean the lies he told Xiao Yuruo the other day—about being a rogue cultivator named Han Lie—would be instantly exposed?

“Damn, the boomerang comes back so fast?” He frowned slightly.

Should he still follow Grand Elder Chi Lian’s orders?

“Daoist Lin, I bet on you winning! Though not much, it is still some support for you…” Xiao Yuruo called out, her voice clear and encouraging amidst the jeers.

Han Lie closed his eyes for a brief second.

When he reopened them, his dark, profound pupils flashed with a glint of cold determination.

He had made his decision.