Meng Ru sat in the center of the grotto, the jade slip pressed to his forehead. His consciousness was flooded with the intricate details of the Water and Fire Resonance Art. To any other disciple, it would be a dizzying torrent of information—complex essence pathways, precise timing, and dangerous principles.
To Meng Ru, it was a blueprint of flawed genius.
'Interesting,' his internal monologue was as dispassionate as a scholar dissecting a dead specimen. 'The art treats primeval essence as two distinct entities, forcing them into opposition. A crude application of the principle of yin and yang. It creates resonance, yes, but it is inefficient. A true master would not force them to clash, but guide them to merge, turning their opposition into a unified, higher-power harmony. Still, for a Rank three elder's collection, it is a passable technique. More importantly, its primary flaw is its greatest strength.'
The flaw was the sheer amount of wasted energy. The clash of water-and-fire-aspected essence would create a massive, chaotic fluctuation of energy. A beacon in the dark. Anyone paying attention to Feng Yin's mountain peak would feel the tremor in the world's qi. They would perceive it as a difficult, unstable breakthrough.
And Elder Bai was most certainly paying attention.
A plan began to form in Meng Ru's mind, not out of inspiration, but out of cold, logical necessity. He was a weak pawn on a board of powerful players. A direct confrontation was foolish. Misdirection and controlling the enemy's perception—that was the path of a true predator. He would not just execute a breakthrough; he would orchestrate a performance.
This was his daring scheme.
'Primary Objective is Achieve a perfect breakthrough to Rank two. Foundation must remain flawless.'
'Secondary Objective is Reinforce Elder Bai's perception of me as a reckless, lucky youth who has been given a tool far beyond his abilities. This will lower his guard and cement my image as a high-value, low-threat asset in his eyes.'
'Tertiary Objective is create a controlled, external event that appears accidental. This will serve as a misdirection, drawing attention away from the true nature of my talent and potentially creating friction between Feng Yin and Bai.'
He began to map out the execution. He would follow the Resonance Art, but with his own modifications. He would intentionally let the energy fluctuations "leak" out, but not randomly. He would guide these chaotic waves, shaping them into a focused stream aimed at a specific point on the mountain outside the grotto.
His mental map of the sect, pieced together from observations and basic sect knowledge, highlighted a target: a small, abandoned monitoring formation on the western face of the peak. It was a relic from a previous generation, now used for nothing. But its essence pathways were still connected to the main sect monitoring hall—the very hall where Elder Bai's cronies would likely be watching.
A surge of "unstable" energy hitting that formation would cause a harmless but brilliantly visible light show. It would look like a novice cultivator losing control during a critical breakthrough, the resulting energy surge overloading a forgotten piece of sect infrastructure. A perfect accident.
'The probability of success for the primary objective is eight parts in ten. The probability of deceiving Elder Bai: nine parts in ten. The risk of exposing my true control capabilities: less than one part in a hundred. The plan is viable.'
With the scheme finalized, Meng Ru's demeanor shifted. He allowed a subtle tension to enter his posture, a faint line of "anxiety" to crease his brow. It was a action, but a perfect one.
He took a deep breath, and his primeval sea began to churn.
He split the silver-white essence. Half of it he imbued with a cold, yielding, water-like nature. The other half he infused with a fierce, aggressive, fire-like nature. The two energies writhed in his aperture, repelling each other, creating a palpable instability that even he, the controller, could feel straining at the walls of his soul.
To an outside observer, it would feel like the prelude to a catastrophic failure.
But for Meng Ru, the curtain was just rising on his first performance. He began to guide the two warring energies, not just towards his aperture wall, but towards the world outside, ready to paint a picture of incompetence for his shadowed audience.