On the day of the junior generation tournament, the central courtyard of the Lin Clan was bustling with a rare vitality. From the early hours of the morning, members from all corners of the clan tried to secure the best seats to watch the contest of the young talents. The air was thick with an energy blended from anticipation, excitement, and the nervousness of the young warriors. This tournament, which would shape the future of the clan, was also a showcase of power balances, alliances, and internal family rivalries. Everyone was whispering about how far the favored sons of the main family, like Lin Feng and Lin Jian, would advance, and which children from the branch families might cause an upset. Amidst these whispers, one name was mentioned with a cynical smile, with pity, or was ignored entirely: Lin Yuan.
In stark contrast to this general excitement, a deep tranquility reigned in the remote and unkempt courtyard where Lin Yuan lived. He had awoken with the first light of the sun, revitalizing his mind and body with the "Qi Circulation Art." His loyal maid, Xiao Rou, had brought him a simple breakfast, her eyes filled with worry. The mix of fear and hope on the young girl's face did not escape Lin Yuan's notice. She was the only person in this world who genuinely worried for him. "Young Master, do you really have to participate? Lin Feng and the others... they might harm you," Xiao Rou whispered, her voice trembling.
Lin Yuan slowly raised his head. In his eyes, there was a wisdom and calmness far beyond his years, something Xiao Rou had never seen before. This change, which seemed to have appeared overnight, both surprised and frightened the young girl. Lin Yuan gave her a faint smile. "Don't worry, Xiao Rou. Today will be the day everything begins to change. Just watch." There was neither arrogance nor bluff in these words; simply the statement of an unshakeable truth.
The path to the arena was akin to a gauntlet of humiliation for Lin Yuan. As he walked, the gazes of the surrounding clan members pierced his skin like needles. The whispers were loud enough for him to hear clearly: "Look, the shame of the clan has arrived. How does he have the face to come here?", "I heard he couldn't even pass the first stage of Body Tempering. I pity whoever his first opponent is.", "What a great misfortune for Lord Lin Quin to have such a son."
Lin Yuan ignored these words. His mind was not focused on the faces of these people, but on his memories from the simulation. He had seen each of these faces countless times during the thirty-eight years of the simulation. He knew who was loyal to whom, who was a backstabber, and what weaknesses each person possessed. While they saw him as a nobody, he was reading the darkest secrets of their souls. This asymmetrical information was his greatest weapon. Therefore, their contempt did not hurt him; on the contrary, it amused him. They were puppets, unable to see the truth behind the curtain, and he was preparing to become the one holding the strings.
The tournament arena was a massive stone platform built to showcase the clan's power. The platform was surrounded by tiered seating for the audience. The clan's leadership sat in the most honored position. In the center was Lord Lin Quin, standing like a statue with no sign of emotion on his face. To his right sat his main wife, Lady Zhao, with an elegant but disdainful smile on her face, and to his left were the clan elders. Lin Feng and Lin Jian sat right behind their father, exuding an air of confidence and arrogance.
When Lin Yuan moved to the area reserved for participants, his eyes briefly met his father's. Lord Lin Quin's gaze passed over him as if looking at a stranger, an object. There was no disappointment, no anger, not even a crumb of affection... Only absolute indifference. This indifference froze the last speck of warmth in Lin Yuan's heart. Although his time-traveler mind told him not to be emotional, the childish longing coming from the depths of this body pained him for a moment. But this pain turned into an icy determination within seconds. There was only one way to get this man's attention: overwhelming, undeniable power.
One of the clan elders stepped into the middle of the platform, explained the rules, and began the drawing of lots for the first-round matches. As names were called one by one, murmurs of approval or disappointment rose from the crowd. Finally, the elder's voice echoed across the arena: "The next match... Lin Wei versus Lin Yuan!"
A moment of silence followed this announcement, which was then broken by a wave of suppressed laughter. Lin Wei was a burly youth from a branch family, at the fourth stage of Body Tempering, known for his brute strength. Everyone thought this match would be a disaster for Lin Yuan. It could even have been a deliberate arrangement by the clan leadership to eliminate him in the very first round. A cruel delight appeared on the faces of Lin Feng and Lin Jian. Watching the clan's shame get crushed in front of everyone would be a great pleasure for them.
Lin Yuan walked towards the platform with calm steps. His simple clothes and seemingly frail physique were a stark contrast to his opponent Lin Wei's muscular and imposing stature. Lin Wei smirked, rubbing his hands together. "Don't worry, cousin, I'll be gentle with you. After all, I don't want to tarnish the main family's reputation too much. Just give up and let's end this embarrassing situation."
Lin Yuan did not reply. He simply sized up his opponent from head to toe, as if studying an insect. The simulation memories laid out all the information about Lin Wei's fighting style before him: strong, but slow; aggressive, but unskilled; completely reliant on instinct, devoid of strategy. In his mind, at least seventeen different scenarios for defeating Lin Wei flashed by. He chose the most effective and least conspicuous one.
"Begin!" the elder shouted.
Lin Wei roared like a bull and charged forward. His right fist cut through the air with a whistling sound, aimed straight for Lin Yuan's face. His goal was to end the match with a single blow and impress everyone. The crowd held its breath, expecting Lin Yuan to be knocked to the ground.
But the expected did not happen. Lin Yuan remained motionless until the last possible moment. Just as the fist was inches from his face, his body suddenly slid to the side like a phantom. It wasn't an exaggerated leap or a somersault; just a single, perfectly timed, extremely efficient step. His feet seemed to glide over the ground as if on oil, achieving maximum result with minimum effort.
Lin Wei's powerful fist met empty air. Having put the entire weight of his body into the punch, he instantly lost his balance and stumbled forward past Lin Yuan. At that exact moment, Lin Yuan reached out towards his passing opponent's back. He didn't punch or kick. He simply, with his index and middle fingers, lightly touched a nerve point just below Lin Wei's shoulder blade, a point that momentarily disrupts the flow of Qi.
The touch was as light as a feather, but its consequences were devastating. Lin Wei's forward momentum, combined with the sudden shock at that nerve point, caused him to lose control of his body completely. His legs tangled, and his massive body tumbled off the platform with a loud thud, landing on the dusty ground below.
Everything had taken less than three seconds.
A deathly silence fell over the arena. Everyone stared wide-eyed. No one understood what had just happened. There was no powerful Qi fluctuation, no dazzling fighting technique, no violent collision. It was as if... as if Lin Wei had tripped over his own feet while running. What kind of victory was this? Was it a fluke?
The smiles on Lin Feng and Lin Jian's faces were frozen. Lady Zhao's elegant smirk faltered for a moment. And most importantly, on the honored dais, for the first time, a sliver of emotion leaked from beneath Lord Lin Quin's indifferent mask: a fleeting, deep astonishment.
Even the elder officiating the match couldn't compose himself for a few seconds. Finally, clearing his throat, he announced in a voice still filled with disbelief: "...The winner is Lin Yuan!"
Lin Yuan ignored the shocked stares of the crowd. As if he hadn't just accomplished something extraordinary, he calmly descended from the platform. There was neither pride nor joy on his face. Only that deep calmness, like a bottomless well. As he returned to his place in the participants' area, he paid no mind to the hundreds of eyes fixed on him, already contemplating his next move.
He had not just won a match. He had planted the first seed of doubt in the minds of the Lin Clan. And that seed would soon sprout into a giant tree that would change everything.