The courtyard had been cleaned.
But the smell of blood had not fully disappeared.
Two nights ago, masked figures had broken into Lin Xuan's residence. Steel had clashed in the dark. Spiritual techniques had torn through wooden walls. If he had been even slightly weaker, he would have died without anyone knowing why.
Now the sect had declared it a "misunderstanding."
Bandits from outside the mountain.
An unfortunate coincidence.
Lin Xuan did not believe it.
He sat cross-legged beneath the dim lantern light, his breathing steady. The shallow cuts on his arm had already closed, leaving faint red lines. His recovery speed would have shocked most Outer Court disciples.
That alone was dangerous.
Rumors had begun spreading quietly.
Some said he had hidden strength.
Some said he cultivated forbidden arts.
Some said he was lucky.
Lin Xuan knew something important—
No one powerful had spoken on his behalf.
Which meant the people above were watching.
Inside his consciousness, the crimson presence stirred.
You held back that night, the dragon's voice rumbled.
"I had to."
If he had released even a fraction more of that power, the fluctuation would have spread across the entire Outer Court. Elders would have sensed it.
He could defeat assassins.
He could not yet face the sect.
The night wind brushed past the broken section of wall that had been hastily repaired.
Lin Xuan's eyes opened slowly.
There it was again.
A faint thread of spiritual perception grazing his courtyard.
Careful. Restrained.
Not killing intent.
Assessment.
Someone was measuring him.
Testing whether he was worth eliminating personally.
Lin Xuan did not react outwardly. He resumed breathing as if unaware.
Minutes passed.
Then—
Three slow knocks sounded at his door.
Not aggressive.
Not urgent.
Calculated.
Lin Xuan stood up calmly and opened it.
A gray-robed deacon stood outside. His face was polite, but his gaze lingered slightly too long on Lin Xuan's injuries.
"Disciple Lin Xuan," the deacon said. "Elder Han requests your presence at the External Affairs Hall."
Lin Xuan nodded once.
So it begins.
The path to the hall was unusually quiet.
Normally, a late summons after an assassination attempt would signal protection.
This did not feel like protection.
It felt like interrogation.
When he entered the hall, he immediately sensed the tension in the air.
Elder Han stood with hands behind his back.
And beside him—
Zhao Feng.
His arm was wrapped tightly in white cloth. Though his expression was calm, resentment burned in his eyes.
Lin Xuan understood instantly.
The assassination had not ended anything.
It had merely moved the battlefield into the open.
He bowed respectfully.
"Disciple Lin Xuan greets Elder Han."
Elder Han studied him longer than necessary.
"You recovered quickly."
"I was fortunate to survive," Lin Xuan replied evenly.
Zhao Feng stepped forward.
"Fortunate?" he said coldly. "Two groups of masked attackers appeared in the Outer Court on the same night. One targeted me. One targeted you."
He stared directly at Lin Xuan.
"What a coincidence."
Silence filled the hall.
Lin Xuan did not look away.
"If Senior Brother suspects me," he said calmly, "why would I risk my own life in such a scheme?"
Zhao Feng's jaw tightened.
Elder Han finally spoke.
"There were unusual spiritual fluctuations detected near your courtyard."
There it was.
Not accusation.
But pressure.
Lin Xuan lowered his gaze slightly, as a proper Outer Court disciple should.
"I cultivate a body-tempering method inherited from my family. It may differ from common sect techniques."
Elder Han extended his spiritual perception without warning.
The pressure descended instantly.
Heavy.
Searching.
Lin Xuan activated his circulation smoothly.
Pure.
Stable.
Orthodox.
He locked the dragon's aura deep within his core.
The crimson presence did not resist.
Moments passed.
Elder Han withdrew his perception.
"No signs of demonic corruption."
Zhao Feng's expression darkened.
But Elder Han continued.
"However… your growth speed is abnormal."
This time, Lin Xuan did not answer immediately.
He allowed a slight pause—just enough to seem nervous, not defiant.
"I train daily," he said quietly.
Elder Han's eyes narrowed.
"In three days, the Outer Court will hold a ranking challenge."
The air shifted.
"The top ten will be chosen for an expedition to Black Mist Valley."
Lin Xuan's heartbeat slowed instead of quickened.
So this was the true test.
Black Mist Valley was unstable territory. Dangerous terrain. Mutated beasts. Hidden relics.
And the perfect place for accidents.
"If you have nothing to hide," Elder Han finished, "you will participate."
Not an order.
Not quite a choice.
Lin Xuan bowed.
"Disciple accepts."
When he left the hall, the night felt colder.
This was no longer a hidden assassination attempt.
This was controlled elimination.
If he lost the ranking challenge, he would be discredited.
If he entered Black Mist Valley, he might not return.
Inside his consciousness, the dragon's voice echoed again.
You are finally being tested properly.
Lin Xuan's lips curved faintly.
"Good."
His gaze lifted toward the distant mountain range beyond the sect.
He had survived being hunted in the dark.
Now he would step into the light.
And see who truly wished him dead.