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Chapter 4 - THE OUTCAST RETURNS

The morning sun cut through the thin mist that lingered in the valley. For the first time in weeks, Li Shen stood outside the ruined courtyard of the Li Clan. The walls that once held the laughter of disciples and the shouts of sparring partners now lay in rubble. Moss and weeds claimed the stones. The proud banners of the clan were nothing but tattered strips flapping in the wind.

He had buried the last of them two nights ago. Each mound of earth weighed on his heart like iron chains. But there was no more time to grieve. The world moved on, and so must he.

The shard of the broken blade rested in a cloth wrap tied to his waist. It felt heavier than before, as though it knew what he planned.

Li Shen's body was still weak, his arm bandaged tightly, his steps unsteady. But his eyes no longer carried the dull haze of despair. They burned, sharp and cold, a promise carved into his soul.

The Seven Peaks Sect thought they had destroyed him. The masked devil thought he was finished. The city thought the Li Clan was gone.

They were wrong.

He made his way down the path that led to Silvermist City. The streets were already alive with merchants shouting their prices, children running past with sticky buns, and cultivators in sect robes walking proudly among the crowd.

The moment he stepped onto the main street, whispers followed him.

"That's him… isn't it? The Li boy."

"The cripple?"

"Didn't his clan get wiped out last month? How is he still alive?"

"He's just trash now. Can't even cultivate. Look at him, limping like a beggar."

Laughter followed, sharp and cruel. Some pointed openly, others sneered as they passed.

Li Shen's fists clenched, but he kept walking. His body screamed with every step, yet he held his head high. If he showed weakness now, they would devour him.

He turned toward the marketplace. His goal was simple: find work, gather spirit herbs, and begin to rebuild his cultivation—even if it meant crawling from the bottom.

But fate rarely gave him mercy.

A group of youths in silver robes blocked his path. Their leader, a tall young man with a fan, smirked as he stepped forward. The embroidered crest on his robe marked him as an outer disciple of the Seven Peaks Sect.

"Well, well. If it isn't the fallen genius," the youth drawled. His voice was loud enough to draw more attention. "Li Shen, the pride of the Li Clan. I heard you were crippled. Looks like the rumors were true."

The crowd quieted. All eyes turned to watch.

Li Shen met his gaze, silent.

The youth flicked open his fan. "Do you still remember me? Zhao Feng. I challenged you once at the city tournament, and you humiliated me in front of everyone. You even told me, 'a man who hides behind a fan is no true cultivator.'"

Mocking laughter rippled through the sect disciples behind him. Zhao Feng's grin widened.

"Now look at you. A cripple. No clan. No future. Tell me, do you still have that arrogance? Or do you finally understand what it means to be nothing?"

Li Shen's chest tightened. Memories of that tournament flashed—his father's proud smile, his clan cheering, Zhao Feng lying defeated. Those days felt like a lifetime ago.

The shard at his waist pulsed faintly, as if urging him to draw it, to spill blood here and now.

But he couldn't. Not yet.

Li Shen forced his voice steady. "Move."

Gasps ran through the crowd. Zhao Feng blinked, then laughed so hard he nearly dropped his fan. "Move? You dare order me? You, a cripple with no clan? Trash like you doesn't command anyone anymore."

He stepped closer until his breath brushed Li Shen's face. "Kneel. Right here. Kneel and beg me to let you live in this city. Maybe then I'll let you crawl away."

The crowd buzzed. Some whispered eagerly, others jeered. No one moved to help.

Li Shen's blood boiled. His pride screamed at him to fight, to kill, to never bow. But his broken body trembled, barely able to stand. He could not win this fight. Not yet.

Zhao Feng lifted his fan and pressed it against Li Shen's shoulder, pushing slightly. "On your knees, cripple."

The shard pulsed harder. Li Shen's vision blurred red. For a heartbeat, he imagined driving the jagged blade into Zhao Feng's throat, watching him choke on his arrogance. The killing intent that surged from his soul was so sharp that Zhao Feng faltered, his smirk twitching.

But just as quickly, the moment passed.

Li Shen stepped back, his voice cold. "Today, you can laugh. Tomorrow, you'll choke on it."

The crowd froze.

Zhao Feng's face darkened. "You dare—" He raised his hand to strike.

Before he could, a stern voice rang out. "Enough!"

The crowd parted as an elderly man in city guard armor strode forward. His beard was streaked with gray, his aura steady. Captain Wu—once a friend of the Li Clan.

He glared at Zhao Feng. "The city may belong to the sects, but I'll not allow street brawls under my watch. Disperse!"

Zhao Feng sneered but lowered his hand. "Fine. Let the cripple live another day. But remember this, Li Shen. You're nothing without your clan. The next time we meet outside the city walls, no one will stop me."

He flicked his fan shut and turned, his lackeys following.

The crowd slowly broke apart, some disappointed at the lack of blood, others whispering at Li Shen's defiance.

Captain Wu's eyes softened as he looked at Li Shen. "You shouldn't be here yet, boy. The city isn't safe for you. Too many vultures circle the ruins of your clan."

Li Shen bowed slightly. "Thank you, Captain. But I can't hide forever. If I want to rise again, I must begin here."

Wu studied him for a long moment before sighing. "Your father would've said the same. Be careful. The world has no mercy for the broken."

He left, his words lingering like smoke.

Li Shen stood alone in the marketplace once more. His body trembled from exhaustion, but his spirit burned hotter than ever.

Humiliation. Laughter. Scorn. He had tasted it all.

Good.

He would remember every sneer, every insult, every face. When the day came, their laughter would turn to screams.

Li Shen touched the shard at his waist. It pulsed faintly, hungry, eager.

"Soon," he whispered. "But not yet. When I rise, I won't just kill one Zhao Feng. I'll make the entire Seven Peaks Sect kneel."

The crowd moved on. The city returned to its rhythm. But for Li Shen, the world had shifted.

The path of revenge had truly begun.

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