The inner sect's arena gleamed under the noon sun, its polished stone ring reflecting the countless hours of blood and sweat spilled by cultivators far stronger than Li Xiyan. Today, however, she wasn't here to spectate.
She was here because someone had dared to challenge her.
It began with an offhand rumor—a lie cloaked in concern. That she had seduced Mu Chen with a love charm. That she was secretly cultivating demonic arts. That her kindness was a mask hiding dark ambitions.
She might have ignored it.
But when the soft-spoken disciple Mei Yu burst into tears after overhearing slanders about the "witch behind the herb garden," Xiyan knew silence would no longer protect anyone.
So she walked into the training grounds.
Not to fight.
But to face.
Disciples turned, surprised. Whispers erupted again. Dressed in her plain robe, hair bound in a simple knot, she looked like she didn't belong.
But her gaze was steady.
"I heard someone had questions about my character," she said, her voice clear, neither meek nor loud, but firm. "I've come to answer them."
The arena went quiet. Even the sect elders observing from the balconies leaned forward.
From the crowd stepped Yue Lan—one of the top ten outer sect disciples. Her cultivation was fierce, her temper fiercer.
"So, you finally show yourself," Yue Lan sneered. "You think because Mu Chen tolerates you, we'll all kneel? You hide behind kindness, but I know your kind—manipulators with soft eyes and poisoned words."
Xiyan didn't flinch. "Then fight me," she said, "if that will clear your heart."
Gasps echoed. A duel?
"You'll die," Yue Lan said bluntly.
"Maybe," Xiyan replied. "But maybe not."
The elders exchanged glances. One raised a brow, but none interrupted. Curiosity had shackled them to silence.
Yue Lan stepped into the ring, drawing her blade. "Don't say I didn't warn you."
Xiyan stepped in barefoot, empty-handed.
The first strike came fast—a horizontal slash aimed to knock her unconscious in one blow.
But Xiyan wasn't idle. She ducked, rolled under the arc of steel, and tapped two pressure points on Yue Lan's wrist.
A burst of numbness shot through Yue Lan's sword arm.
She stumbled back, shocked. "You—!"
"I'm not a fighter," Xiyan said. "But I was trained as a healer before I came to the sect. Anatomy is part of our teachings."
Yue Lan's eyes blazed.
Blades flashed. Wind howled.
But Xiyan never attacked—she evaded, redirected, disarmed with soft palms and careful steps. She turned Yue Lan's strength against her, like water shaping stone.
The crowd went from mocking to murmuring.
After ten minutes, Yue Lan dropped her blade, chest heaving.
"I can't win," she growled. "You're... cheating."
"No," Xiyan said softly. "I just don't fight like you do. I protect. I mend. That's my cultivation path."
She bowed respectfully.
And that humility struck harder than any sword.
Mu Chen, watching from the edge, let a rare smirk tug at his lips.
"She disarmed Yue Lan with acupuncture and pressure points?" a disciple whispered. "I thought she was just good with herbs."
"She didn't even bruise her," said another. "That was... elegant."
"She could have humiliated her," someone else muttered. "But she didn't. She's... different."
For the first time, no one jeered. No one laughed. Many stared at her in quiet awe.
Even Yue Lan, cheeks flushed, stared at her opponent not with hatred, but with confused respect.
That night, as Xiyan walked back to her quarters, she found someone waiting by her door.
Not Mu Chen.
But Elder Hao—one of the three inner sect masters.
"You used the Falling Petal Palm technique," he said. "That hasn't been taught in years."
"My grandmother passed it down," she said cautiously. "She believed in pacifist cultivation."
Elder Hao nodded slowly. "You've mastered it well. Too well to remain in the outer sect."
Xiyan blinked. "Pardon?"
He smiled faintly. "Report to the inner sect hall tomorrow. I've prepared your transfer papers. You've proven yourself, Miss Li."
And just like that, the path she once thought closed was unfolding.
But as she lay in bed that night, she didn't feel triumph.
She felt resolve.
This wasn't the end of her proving—only the beginning.
Because rising in rank meant greater storms.
And she had more than herself to protect now.