Zhao Wuqing watched Sun Yao's dilemma unfold, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "There is no need to fear punishment from the sect," he explained, his voice calm and reassuring. "The sect wouldn't punish a talented inner disciple over a crippled one."
Sun Yao, seeing no other choice, decided to trust Zhao Wuqing's words. The weight of Zhao Wuqing's influence was far heavier than the potential wrath of the Supreme Elder, at least for now. "You are right, Senior Brother," he said, his voice regaining some firmness. "I will take care of this."
Zhao Wuqing's eyes gleamed with calculation. "Good! Junior Brother Yao's future is promising."
Hearing this, Sun Yao was overjoyed. Having Zhao Wuqing, a strong candidate for the position of the young sect master, as a backer was definitely going to help him in the future. 'That's if I succeed in this mission,' he thought, a cold shiver running down his spine. The path ahead was fraught with peril, but the rewards, if he pulled it off, could be immense.
Sun Yao bowed deeply, he quickly exited Zhao Wuqing's villa, the heavy wooden door closing behind him with a soft thud. The cool mountain air did little to calm the frantic beating of his heart.
Sun Yao clenched his fists. 'A crippled one,' he repeated, a cruel smile forming on his lips. 'It won't be easy' He began to walk with a renewed purpose, his thoughts already turning to how he would approach Lin Fang and what techniques he would use to ensure the crippling was subtle, yet effective. He needed to make it look like an accident, a common mishap during a heated exchange.
He suddenly remembered a certain technique that would be perfect for this, his eyes turned determined as he rushed towards the Whispering Wind Pavilion.
Meanwhile, Lin Fang remained in seclusion in his luxurious villa, completely unaware of the storm brewing. He sat cross-legged on his king-sized bed, surrounded by the faint glow of spirit stones. His focus was absolute, his True Qi circulating smoothly through his meridians, each cycle bringing him closer to the next level of cultivation. He was a fish in tranquil waters, oblivious to the predator circling just outside his pond.
...
Three months later,
Lin Fang's deep eyes snapped open. They glowed like two miniature suns, radiating an ethereal light. He exhaled a long, turbid breath of air, the dozens of once-shiny spirit stones scattered around him turned dull and colorless, completely devoid of energy.
His entire body still shimmered faintly with the pure, vibrant light of True Qi. He slowly stood, stretching his limbs, and was immediately shocked by the sheer speed and raw strength his body now possessed.
"I have finally reached the fourth level of Qi Refining," he murmured, a satisfied smile spreading across his face.
He casually pointed a finger at the sturdy stone wall next to him. A thin, almost invisible line of light True Qi shot forth, carving a deep, clean scar into the solid rock. "I knew this Falling Star Blade technique wasn't a simple martial art," he said in wonder, his eyes gleaming. "It can still actually be used even with True Qi."
He then slowly walked outside his villa, the fresh mountain air invigorating him. 'Three months,' he thought, a sense of anticipation building within him. "I can finally leave the sect." His eyes scanned the distant peaks, searching for the mission hall, eager to step out into the wider world and finally have the freedom to simulate again.
He moved swiftly navigating the sect grounds. He casually asked random disciples for directions to the mission hall, his mind already anticipating the next simulations.
But as he passed by a random inner disciple with short brown hair, the man suddenly stumbled, bumping into Lin Fang with an intentional force. Before Lin Fang could even react, the man exploded in a fit of feigned rage, screaming at him with all his might.
Lin Fang was momentarily stupefied. However, he quickly sensed the forced tone in the man's voice and the subtle, nervous tremor in his hands. He instantly understood. 'So it's time for this,' he thought, a mocking expression settling on his face.
"Ah... is this the new way to greet people?" Lin Fang drawled, his voice deceptively mild. "It's so loud, one might think a banshee had taken up residence in the sect."
He continued, his words like perfectly aimed darts. "Perhaps you're not from this sect? You seem to have a lot of anger for a cultivator who can't even stand still."
Lin Fang leaned in slightly, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Is there a master in the mountains that teaches you this? I'd like to meet him and thank him for raising such a fine specimen."
Instantly, the chaotic scene turned silent. Then, stifled laughter began to ripple through the surrounding disciples, who had gathered to watch the unfolding drama.
Sun Yao, the inner disciple with the short brown hair, was in turn stupefied. He hadn't expected this new star of the sect, to have such a sharp tongue.
Pushing his fear back, Sun Yao knew this was his only chance to complete Zhao Wuqing's mission. He had waited for Lin Fang to emerge from seclusion for a full three months. 'If I wait any longer,' he thought, a cold dread seizing him, 'he'll be far out of my reach.'
He roared, "How dare you insult your Senior Brother!" His fist glowed with vibrant wind True Qi, he was using the sect's core cultivation technique, the Divine Wind Scripture. "I have to teach you some manners!" his eyes flashed with a hint of ruthlessness.
Seeing this sudden, fierce attack and hearing the familiar 'Ding' of the simulator in his mind, Lin Fang instantly understood. This was no mere 'spar.' This guy was trying to kill him, or at the very least, cripple him. Fury flared in Lin Fang's chest.
He had sensed that Sun Yao was at the fourth level of Qi Refining, the same as him. He knew he could defeat him if he played his cards right. But Lin Fang lived by a simple, brutal truth: 'Pity towards your enemy is cruelty towards yourself.' He wasn't going to spare someone who was trying to harm him.
He instantly activated his spatial ring, a sharp sword materializing out of thin air in his hand. Simultaneously, he circulated his Brilliant Core Scripture, his body glowing with an ethereal, radiant light, ready for battle.