Chapter 136 - 1

Chapter 41

When the guards arrived and refused to let him speak, Chen Ren knew it was bad news. They didn't stop there—they grabbed his arm and began dragging him away. He could only glance back at the confused expressions of those gathered around the Tang Clan compound.

Anger surged through him, seeping from his core to the tips of his fingers. He wanted to burn the guards to ashes. 

The past twenty-four hours had been anything but peaceful. First, the meeting with Feng Ming hadn't exactly been pleasant. Then, he had narrowly survived explosions and had to fend off ethereal ghost rhinos bent on his destruction. And now? He was being hauled away on the suspicion of being a demonic cultivator.

At this point, he almost wished he was one, just so he could kill them all on the spot. Because, after all, there was only so much one man could endure. 

Although Chen Ren lacked the strength to fight against qi refinement realm cultivators, he knew Yalan did. The small but ancient spirit beast could easily tear through them all with her claws and flames. Part of his brain, the impulsive part, urged him to unleash her, to ignore the consequences entirely. But rationality held him back. Regretfully, he had to consider the aftermath.

Causing a scene by opposing the city guards would mean going against the bureaucracy—and that would only spell more trouble for him and his budding business in the long run. He had no choice but to endure this indignity.

It was almost funny—or perhaps it was just his mind playing tricks on him during an unfunny situation. In Xianxia novels, protagonists always seemed to burn entire cities for one reason or another. He wasn't one of them—it was for the best. Taking extreme measures would bring the wrath of the entire empire upon him.

After all, in Xianxia logic, there was always someone stronger—someone who would inevitably arrive to exact revenge for the chaos.

It was a never-ending spiral: one comes, only to be followed by someone stronger.

Chen Ren sighed. He didn't want to be part of that vicious cycle. As frustrating as the situation was, he believed in his ability to find a way out. For one, he wasn't a demonic cultivator. And two, he had the backing of the Tang Clan. If things spiraled out of control, he knew they'd step in to rescue him.

At least, he hoped they would.

Therefore, suppressing the simmering anger and his urge to burn everything down, Chen Ren sat silently in the carriage. As the door slammed shut with an unnecessarily harsh thud, he took a deep breath and reached out to Yalan mentally, knowing she must be nearby.

"Stay close. Just in case."

"Right here, on the roof. Don't worry," Yalan's voice came through, calm and soothing, a much-needed balm to his frazzled nerves.

Even though he had a potential escape, he couldn't stop his heartbeat from quickening, its rhythm pounding in his ears. "Thanks," he thought, glancing down at his hands.

Thankfully, they hadn't cuffed him. He wasn't sure if it was because the captain of the guards was confident in his strength or simply because Chen Ren hadn't resisted. 

Before he could ponder further, two more guards climbed into the carriage, one on either side, boxing him in.

"Well?" Chen Ren broke the silence, turning to the man on his right. He was tall, with brownish hair and clad in the standard green guard uniform. By the subtle aura he gave, he was a low star body forging realm cultivator. 

Chen Ren expected at least a terse response from him; a conversation that might help him glean the information he desperately needed.

Instead, he was met with nothing. The guards sat rigid, their mouths clamped shut, gazes fixed straight ahead.

He waited a moment, then tried again. "Why am I being dragged off like this?"

Silence. Again.

Realizing it was futile, Chen Ren gave up. The rest of the ride stretched on in complete silence. He kept his mouth shut, letting the oppressive quiet hang heavy around them.

The carriage rattled along, its destination unknown to him. The journey was anything but comfortable. The guards on either side flanked him so closely he felt squashed, their presence acting as a constant reminder of his lack of freedom.

Looking out the small window, he found his only solace. The city outside bore the scars of recent destruction. Crumbled buildings lined the streets, their remains strewn across the ground like forgotten relics of stability. People wept openly as their ruined homes stood as testaments to the chaos.

Debris filled the air, while the cacophony of hammers striking, tools clanging, and voices shouting painted a grim picture of the city's heart. Through it all, he could almost hear the pain raging in their hearts, unspoken but unmistakably raw.

Some people pointed at the carriage. They hurled curses and shouted incomprehensible accusations at the guards' inability to do anything to stop the destruction. The guards seemed to ignore them, but he could see them frowning for a brief second. 

Looking at the state of things… I can see why the city guard came for me this morning, he thought, watching the angry and despairing passersby.

Until now, his short time in the city had taught him that the guards were slow-moving and likely corrupt. But this time, they had acted quickly—too quickly. It was clear that due to the murders and the attack, their reputation was all-time low. 

They had likely gotten orders from someone higher up too. 

"Catch the demonic cultivator as soon as possible."

Chen Ren could guess the likely source— City Lord Li Baolong himself.

But why he had gotten taken in was still a mystery. Though, he had an idea. 

As his mind tried to make sense of it, a dull ache began to throb in his temples. He flinched, rubbing the sides of his forehead. Timing… he mused bitterly.

In life, timing was everything—being in the right place at the right moment could open doors. But in his case, he'd been in the wrong place at the worst possible time.

Someone had likely spotted him entering the Feng Ming Clan estate the previous night. He'd taken his time there, staying longer than he should have. Then came the explosion. And, as luck would have it, he'd been close enough to witness the devastation—and endure its aftermath.

That must be why they detained me, he thought grimly, his headache worsening.

His theory solidified when he recalled the guard's announcement during his arrest: they suspected him of being a demonic cultivator.

Chen Ren let out a slow breath, forcing the tension in his chest to subside. A misunderstanding, he told himself. Nothing more. If he kept his composure and explained himself, surely they would see reason.

That was assuming they'd even bother to look at the truth with reasonable eyes. If not, Chen Ren could only guess what fate awaited him.

Worst case scenario, I would have to stay in whatever cultivator prison they have in this world. 

The thought crept in, dark and unbidden, sending a chill rippling across his body. He shook it off, refusing to entertain it further.

Instead, he did what he had learned to do best—ignore everything. His gaze stayed fixed on the passing streets outside the window. Roads blurred into shops, shops into houses, and houses back into more winding roads. The turns of the carriage, the jostling, and the suffocating lack of space clawed at him, stirring nausea that he forced down with sheer will.

Finally, the carriage ground to a halt.

The guards to his sides exited first, their heavy boots landing with purpose. They held the door open, but there was no courtesy in the gesture. Only cautious, wary stares that silently screamed mistrust.

Chen Ren stepped out, the fresh air doing little to ease the dread pooling in his chest. His eyes rose to meet the imposing structure before him—the City Guard Station. Its gray stone walls loomed like an unyielding fortress, cold and unwelcoming.

"Move," barked the guard who had sat to his right. The man's tone carried the weight of command, stiff and edged with unspoken threats.

Chen Ren offered no resistance. He followed their lead, passing the iron-gated entrance flanked by dozens of guards. Their eyes bore straight ahead, statuesque in their discipline, giving him no more acknowledgment than they would a passing shadow. 

Inside, the oppressive silence of the corridor made each step echo ominously. The number of guards dwindled as they moved deeper, but their presence still pressed heavily on Chen Ren's shoulders.

The path ended abruptly before two towering mahogany doors. Chen Ren's eyes instinctively flicked back to the guard, whose expression stayed cold and unyielding.

"Go in and wait," came the terse instruction.

Chen Ren's frown deepened, but he swallowed his retort. Am I not innocent until proven guilty? He thought bitterly but kept his silence. 

With a reluctant nod, he pushed the doors open.

The room was barren, save for a lone wooden table and two chairs. The heavy doors slammed shut behind him with a force that rattled the ceiling, sealing him in.

Chen Ren let out a long sigh, his body sagging like dead weight as he dragged a chair out and slumped into it. The effort of holding himself together had taken its toll, even in this short time.

The ride from the Tang Compound to here had been excruciating. His body didn't ache as much as he had expected—thanks to the pill he'd taken earlier—but his legs still throbbed with soreness.

Chen Ren's gaze drifted across the sparse room, seeking distraction in its details. His eyes caught faint carvings etched into the stone walls—runes. 

They are probably part of an array, he realized, his mind sharpening. The intricate designs radiated faint traces of power, almost imperceptible unless one knew to look for them. He leaned forward, examining them closely, noting their differences in style and purpose. There wasn't just one array at work here. The overlapping patterns suggested multiple layers of enchantments, each reinforcing the room's defenses.

So this is why the guard captain seemed so confident, Chen Ren mused. He tapped his fingers lightly against the wooden table, piecing together the puzzle of the arrays to pass the time.

From what he recalled about arrays—a brief but enlightening chapter from the book he'd studied yesterday—they were as varied as the stars in the sky. Each array drew on different materials and principles to achieve specific effects.

If I were designing a room like this, he thought, what would I include?

The silence around him was stifling. Likely the work of a [Null Voice Array], which suppressed all sound from escaping—or entering—the room. The walls themselves bore signs of reinforcement. The thick lines and angular patterns suggested a [Stoneheart Array], designed to make the structure nigh-impervious to force.

But what truly piqued his interest were the subtler carvings that were there. Chen Ren guessed these might belong to a [Truthseeker Array]. 

Although the world wasn't advanced scientifically, it wasn't far-fetched for magic to replace modern tools like lie detectors. The thought tugged at the corner of his mind, thinking of ways he would be able to use arrays to make new products to sell. 

As his thoughts drifted, another realization crept in, unbidden.

Qing He.

Her name surfaced in his mind carrying a sense of disappointment, at himself. He'd been looking forward to today's lesson on cultivation disciplines, eager to absorb her insights. The regret settled in his chest, mingling with the frustration of his current predicament.

Another thing to fix when this is over, he thought, shaking his head lightly.

Still, he took comfort in the knowledge that Qing He would likely understand. For now, he needed to focus on navigating this mess before he could return to what truly mattered.

The faint hum of the arrays in the walls was the only sound in the room until the door creaked open. Chen Ren's gaze snapped up as the guard captain entered. His face bore a casual indifference, but Chen Ren didn't miss the subtle sharpness in his eyes—he was a man used to commanding attention.

The captain carried a cup, steam rising lazily from its contents. He moved with unhurried grace, placing the cup on the table and sliding it toward Chen Ren.

"Here, drink this," the captain said, his voice calm, almost friendly. "Apologies for the abrupt way we brought you in, but orders are orders. We couldn't risk letting a suspect roam free while the investigation is ongoing."

Chen Ren glanced at the tea, then at the captain, his expression unreadable. Tea, in this situation? Either this man is absurdly confident, or this is part of some strategy.

His mind immediately jumped to the possibility of something being mixed into the tea. A truth serum? A sedative? But the arrays in the room already ensured he was at their mercy. Any resistance now would only make him seem more suspicious.

With a small nod, Chen Ren decided to play along. He picked up the cup, the warmth radiating through his fingers. Blowing gently on the surface, he took a cautious sip. The familiar flavour of oolong greeted him—nothing unusual, at least in taste. But it helped him with the nerves, calming his headache. 

The captain's lips curled into a faint smile. "I suppose introductions are in order. My name is Cai Tao. I'm one of the guard captains here in the city." He leaned back in his chair, his demeanor almost casual. "It's nice to meet you, Chen Ren. I've heard quite a bit about you recently, but I never thought our first meeting would be under such... peculiar circumstances."

Chen Ren raised an eyebrow. "And what exactly have you heard? Good things or bad?"

Cai Tao chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that seemed rehearsed. "A mix, I'd say. Your businesses have been quite the talk of the city lately alongside your Trial by Might against Bai Shen. A hardworking and righteous cultivator trying to make an honest living? That doesn't exactly scream 'demonic cultivator,' now does it?"

He paused, his gaze narrowing slightly. "But as you might guess, personal opinions don't matter when it comes to enforcing the city's laws. Regulations exist for a reason, and my feelings can't interfere with my duty."

Chen Ren set the cup down, his fingers idly tracing its edge. "Fair enough. So, Captain Cai, what now?"

Cai Tao's smile didn't waver. "We talk. I have a few questions, and I hope you'll indulge me."

Chen Ren studied him for a moment. His earlier impression of Cai Tao as a forceful, combat-ready man during the detainment at the Tang Clan compound clashed with the seemingly amicable demeanor he displayed now. It was clear this was a performance, a calculated attempt to put him at ease.

With a faint smile of his own, Chen Ren nodded. "Go on. I'm all ears."

Cai Tao's face remained impassive, though his gaze bore the intent of a predator. He leaned forward slightly, his voice calm yet edged with an undercurrent of accusation.

"First of all, I believe you already know this, but Feng Ming died in yesterday's explosion." He paused, watching Chen Ren's expression carefully. "What do you think about that?"

Chen Ren's composure faltered, just for a moment. Though he had seen the devastation and guessed Feng Ming's chances were slim, a small part of him had clung to the possibility of survival.

He didn't particularly like Feng Ming—memories of the man's attempt to scam him for the medallion flared in his mind—but death, especially one as violent as that, felt excessive. Snuffing out those thoughts quickly, he realized Cai Tao was studying him with the precision of a hawk.

Chen Ren exhaled and spoke, his tone even. "I feel sad, of course. We weren't particularly close, but he was an acquaintance. He was too young to die like that. I can only hope the heavens will be kinder to him in his next life."

Cai Tao's lips curled into a humorless smile. "Acquaintance? Interesting. From what I've heard, the two of you were closer than that. Drinking buddies, frequenting the same brothels..."

Chen Ren grimaced, the memories of the previous body owner's less-than-savory nights surfacing unbidden. "I won't deny that. But Feng Ming wasn't the only one I drank with or visited brothels alongside. That doesn't mean we were close friends. Besides," he added with a pointed tone, "I've stopped going to brothels altogether."

Cai Tao nodded slowly, as if accepting the statement. "True enough. You may have stopped going to brothels, but you didn't stop meeting Feng Ming. In fact, according to my findings, you owed him a sum of money—500 silver wen, to be exact—and you met him yesterday, not long before his death."

Chen Ren didn't flinch. He had anticipated this line of questioning. "That's correct. I owed him 500 silver wen, and I've been working hard to pay it off. That's the only reason I went to see him yesterday—to pay my debt and cut ties for good. I left right after that."

"Are you sure that was all you did?" His gaze flicked to Chen Ren's shoulder, lingering on the bandages beneath his robes. "After all, you're clearly injured. The servants at the Tang Clan compound confirmed you were resting due to those wounds."

Chen Ren's brows furrowed, but he held his ground. "What are you trying to say?"

Cai Tao pointed at Chen's shoulder. "That wound on your shoulder—looks like it was caused by a blade. Feng Ming was a sword cultivator, wasn't he? According to your version of events, you simply left after paying your debt. But don't you think it's quite a coincidence that Feng Ming died so soon after your meeting? It doesn't seem far-fetched to me to put two and two together."

Chen Ren met Cai Tao's gaze steadily. "Coincidence or not, I'm not the demonic cultivator. I get that it's suspicious—the timing, my injuries—but injuries alone don't prove guilt. I was at the wrong place at the wrong time, nothing more." He leaned back slightly, his voice calm but firm. "It's unfortunate that the demonic cultivator attacked after I left, but you can't pin that on me."

Cai Tao smiled at that, almost mocking his words. "Yeah, it doesn't prove anything, but there's one more thing. We suspect the attack was by a demonic cultivator, but it's still just suspicion. The timing of the attacks, targeting high-profile individuals like members of big clans or wealthy merchants, makes sense. But I wonder... is it really him? The previous murders were done silently and we've yet to see him or her summon beasts to aid in the attacks. Till now, the demonic cultivator had been trying to stay in the shadows, but this time it was different. And that could be a sign of an impersonator—someone using the image of a demonic cultivator to cover their own deeds."

He paused, letting the words settle. And the next words; they came out of his mouth slowly. "And if I think about the ability to summon beasts, it's clear that it must be tied to some sort of spirit artifact—a rare and valuable item. The kind of thing most often found in the hands of the large clans. And speaking of which, aren't you from one of those big clans in Red Peak City?"

Chapter 42

Cai Tao's mention of Red Peak City caught Chen Ren off guard, but he was no stranger to adapting in the face of uncertainty. 

The pure surprise in his eyes lasted barely a heartbeat before it vanished beneath his usual smile. It was a well-practiced buisness smile that came to him naturally. It wasn't genuine, but no one had caught it yet.

In a setting such as this, he knew every little detail was a giveaway. 

His lips curled slightly with the hint of a smirk tinged with self-deprecation, as he spoke with deliberate calm. 

"Captain, it seems your research wasn't thorough enough," Chen Ren said in a mocking tone, lowering his gaze as his smile faded into a downcast expression. His shoulders slumped ever so slightly. 

"What do you mean?" Cai Tao's brow arched, suspicion laced through his voice. He leaned forward slightly, eyes squinting. 

Chen Ren let the silence stretch, just long enough for tension to build, before speaking again, his voice tinged with resignation. "I've been exiled by my clan," he murmured, each word measured, as though admitting it took effort. "The Chen Clan may hold sway in Red Peak City, but for someone like me? A failure cast out? They wouldn't lift a finger. And as for the artifact..." He allowed a bitter chuckle to escape, shaking his head. "An exile, holding something as rare as a spirit artifact? Impossible. All I managed to leave with were a few personal belongings before they cast me out."

He lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Cai Tao. "If you doubt me, you're welcome to confirm it with Tang Jihao, head of the Tang Clan. He knows my story."

The shift in Cai Tao's expression was subtle but telling. His sharp face expression softened, replaced by a flicker of hesitation. Chen Ren could see the wheels turning in the guard captain's mind, the weight of the Tang Clan's name and him being exiled pressing against his doubts. Even so, Cai Tao's posture remained firm, his eyes narrowing as he seized on a new angle. 

"You claimed those injuries came from fighting the spectral rhinos," Cai Tao pressed, his eyes once again moving towards his shoulder. "Yet you're still only in the body forging realm. Those rhinos were in the qi refinement realm, far beyond what someone of your cultivation should manage. How did you survive?"

Chen Ren's stature remained unruffled as he raised the teacup to his lip. After a pause, he lowered it and met Cai Tao's gaze calmly. 

"I was chased by one of the rhinos into the mist… Stronger than me, yes—but not clever. The creature couldn't navigate the haze, and I used that to my advantage. I struck from the shadows, again and again, until it fell." He glanced briefly at the faint scars on his shoulder before continuing. "It wasn't without cost. My injuries were severe, and I wouldn't be sitting here now without the pills I'd saved up for emergencies." 

Cai Tao gave a short nod, his eyes flicking briefly to the runes embedded in the walls of the room. His gaze returned to Chen Ren. "I see," he murmured, but the edge in his tone signaled that the questioning was far from over.

What followed was a relentless barrage of inquiries. 

"Where were you during the recent demonic cultivator attacks?" 

"Why did you suddenly decided to become a merchant?" 

"What's your connection to the Blood Snakes? I heard you met with their leader Yu Kuang." 

Chen Ren answered slowly, but without a hesitation, never offering more than what was necessary. He had mostly been staying at the Tang Clan compund at night, so there would be witnesses. The servants could easily confirm that, and fortunately, there had been no attacks on the nights he had been out training in the forest. 

As the questions turned to his businesses, he spoke of his debts and how he had decided to take a plunge into it due to them, also adding the story he had told to Tang Jihao to give more weight to his decisions. 

When pressed about his confrontation with the Blood Snakes, he described it in broad strokes—an unfortunate clash due to Bai Shen pulling the strings from the back, nothing more. Cai Tao tried his best to form a connection there, but Chen Ren stood firm. There were already rumours about the Trial by Might and why it came to happen, so he doubted the guard captain was going to get anything. 

Still, the questions continued. 

Through it all, Chen Ren carefully guarded his secrets. His dao remained hidden behind layers of mundane explanations. And as for Yalan... Not even the hint of her existence slipped through his words. 

Cai Tao's probing gaze lingered after each response, but Chen Ren sat still, his fingers lightly gripping the rim of his teacup. His thoughts wandered as the guard captain's scrutiny seemed to finally dull, as if the last thread of suspicion had been weighed and found wanting. He had expected Cai Tao to address his rapid cultivation progress, particularly after the sect entrance examinations, but the captain had avoided it entirely.

He guessed that it was because Cai Tao had concluded that his progress had been mostly due to pills. 

Rich cultivators often relied on such means, and with the money Chen Ren had accumulated from his Trial by Might and his perfume shop, it was no surprise that he could afford to hasten his growth in this way. The guard captain, in his pragmatic way, likely saw no need to press further. 

Eventually, the room grew quiet as Cai Tao leaned back in his chair, a faint sigh escaping his lips.

His sharp gaze met Chen Ren's. "Most of my questions are over, and up to this point, I believe you've been honest with me. You've even revealed the situation with your clan, something few would so freely admit."

Chen Ren nodded. But he didn't relax—he knew well that a change in tone often preceded a shift in intention. 

Cai Tao's eyes narrowed as he continued, his words heavy with finality. "But despite that, I can't let you go just yet. You're not giving off any demonic qi, but we know too well that demonic cultivators have ways of hiding their aura. If we let you go now, there's always the chance you might slip through our fingers. So…" His gaze hardened. "I'm afraid we'll have to put you in the Purity chamber."

Chen Ren raised an eyebrow. "Purity chamber?" 

Cai Tao's lips curled into a grim smile with no warmth in it. "It's a property of the Soaring Sword Sect. A chamber specifically designed to expose demonic cultivators. If you harbor even a hint of demonic qi within your dantian, it will kill you. We've been given permission to use it," Cai Tao continued. "All the suspects will be transferred there once the investigations are finished. It's not easy to find a demonic cultivator, so the chamber is our last hope."

Chen Ren's mind raced. A chamber that could kill him in an instant, should he carry even the smallest trace of demonic qi. The risks were immense, but it wasn't his first time facing danger. Rather than that, he dreaded sitting in the room alone for more time. 

He managed to keep his expression neutral, though the frown on his face deepened as he spoke. "How much time will it take?"

Cai Tao seemed to consider this for a moment. "Few days. We're completing the other investigations and rounding up the remaining suspects. Once we have everyone, we'll move them to the Purity chamber."

Before Chen Ren could respond, a sharp knock on the door echoed through the room, breaking the tension. Both men turned toward the sound, the moment of confrontation put on hold. 

As another knock echoed through the chamber, Cai Tao rose from his seat with a frown, his steps brisk as he moved to the door. He cracked it open just enough to step out, leaving Chen Ren sitting alone. Through the narrow gap, he caught a glimpse of another man standing outside—one of Cai Tao's subordinates, judging by his uniform.

He had an anxious expression and made some hurried gestures before he door shut firmly, leaving Chen Ren in solitude.

He leaned back, casually tapping his finger on the edge of the desk. Finishing the last sip of his tea, he set the cup down, his gaze wandering over the runes glowing faintly on the walls. He couldn't shake the sense that something had shifted, though what it was remained unclear.

Moments later, the door opened again, and Cai Tao returned, his face bearing an entirely different expression. There was no trace of suspicion, no lingering doubt—only an air of resignation. 

"Forget what I said about the Purity Chamber," Cai Tao said abruptly, his tone flat and decisive. "You can go now."

Chen Ren blinked, genuinely taken aback. "I can... go?" he repeated cautiously, his mind racing to decipher the sudden change. But years of navigating treacherous waters had taught him a valuable lesson: never argue with good fortune. 

He rose quickly, bowing his head slightly to Cai Tao, masking his relief with a veneer of calm. "Thank you, Captain. I'll take my leave."

With that, he stepped out of the room and into the dimly lit corridors. His strides were brisk but steady, his senses heightened as he glanced over his shoulder every few moments. The halls stretched endlessly ahead, but his mind was elsewhere, racing through questions. What had changed so suddenly? Could Tang Yuqiu have intervened? It seemed fast, even for her.

Just as he approached the final stretch before the exit, he froze. Standing there, her figure unmistakable even in the sparse light, was Qing He. The old woman radiated her usual unyielding aura, though her posture seemed firmer, her grip steady on a plain wooden stick she held in her hand. Beside her stood Yalan—flickering her tail dismissively as always. 

Chen Ren walked forward, his confusion mounting. "Senior Qing He? Why are you here?" His gaze flickered to the stick, and then to Yalan, who gave him a knowing look but said nothing. "What's going on?"

Qing He's lips curved into a sly smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "So many questions from someone I just bailed out of trouble."

Chen Ren's eyes widened as her words sank in. "You did that?" he asked, incredulous. "How?"

Her laughter echoed through the corridor, rich and knowing. "Kid, you underestimate me. My connections go far, and I mean far—right up to the city lord's personal chambers." She tapped the stick against the ground for emphasis. "Honestly, I was content to let them sort this out on their own. They'd have released you sooner or later. But then Yalan came running to me, saying they were suspecting you of being a demonic cultivator. I knew those fools would drag out that Purity chamber nonsense, so I stepped in."

Chen Ren's expression shifted from shock to something closer to gratitude. "Thank you," he said earnestly, though a thousand questions still swirled in his mind.

"That Purity chamber?" Chen Ren raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to be a bad thing?" 

"For anyone who values their sanity? Yes." Qing He leaned on her stick, her sharp eyes glinting with humor. "The Purity chamber doesn't just test for demonic qi. It crushes your dantian, shakes your soul, and grinds down your mind. Originally, it was called the Force chamber—a training tool from the olden days. Back then, it wasn't advised to stay in for more than an hour unless you wanted to come out drooling. Now? They've modified it, but not for the better. Ocassionly, they find people suspected of being demonic cultivators and put them there till they lose their mind."

Chen Ren's eyes widened, a chill running down his spine. "So they were just going to shove me into a death trap, wait for me to lose my mind, and hope that if I was a demonic cultivator, I'd unleash my qi to escape?"

"Precisely," Qing He said, her tone almost casual. "Demonic qi is volatile, more so than you can imagine. Under that much pressure, it would flare uncontrollably, revealing your true nature. Of course, that doesn't mean the chamber isn't lethal to regular cultivators too. And while your reckless ideas might get you killed someday, I'd rather it not be this soon." Her smirk deepened as she said the last part. 

Chen Ren clenched his fists, his mind flashing to Cai Tao's unnervingly calm demeanor. That smug, smiling face suddenly seemed like the perfect target for a slap or two. He couldn't imagine how the man had been so casual while talking about the Purity chamber. There was no way he didn't know it would make him go insane, but he simply didn't care enough to tell him. 

Part of it could have been because he didn't wanted Chen Ren to try to escape, but it didn't change the fact that he had nearly died just because he had been a suspect. 

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down before stepping forward and bowing deeply toward Qing He. "Senior Qing He, thank you. I truly owe you for saving me from this."

Qing He's smile didn't waver. "Oh, you're grateful now. But I don't expect that to last."

Chen Ren straightened, his brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Yalan, silent until now, finally spoke, her voice carrying a touch of amusement. "I think she's referring to the deal you made, remember? She agreed to teach cultivation disciplines to you."

Chen Ren's face froze for a moment before turning toward Qing He, whose grin only grew wider, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"That's right, kid," she shrugged and turned around. "I hope you're ready for hard training because I don't believe in holding back. And we are already late for our first session. Purity chamber might have made you insane, but if you don't focus, my training might have the same effect." 

Chen Ren suppressed a groan, already imagining the grueling days ahead, but then he looked back at the guard station and thought about the fate he had just escaped. 

Compared to that, he doubted her training could be that hard. Right? 

***

Growing up, Chen Ren had written a ridiculous amount of homework. Since middle school, he'd turned his neat handwriting and quick mind into a part-time job, charging the younger kids in the neighborhood to write their assignments. By high school, he'd been a one-man essay factory, churning out essays on everything from ancient poetry to biology experiments.

Back then, it had been a hustle—a way to earn some pocket money. But when Qing He announced she would be training him, he hadn't expected those endless days of scribbling to come back to haunt him. 

He stared down at the sheet of paper in front of him, frustration bubbling beneath his calm facade. For the five hundred and seventy ninth time, he inscribed the same basic symbol with painstaking care, the brush gliding over the paper in smooth strokes.

It was a simple pattern, deceptively easy to learn but maddeningly difficult to perfect. One slight wobble in the line, one stroke too thick or thin, and it was all worthless. 

Chen Ren sighed, his grip tightening around the brush as he spotted yet another mistake. The lines were uneven—again. He crumpled the paper in frustration, tossing it onto the growing pile of rejects before pulling out a fresh sheet to start over. 

Beside him, Qing He sat with infuriating serenity, sipping tea as if she had all the time in the world. "Careful now," she said without looking at him. "The talisman doesn't care about your impatience. The symbols must be precise. A single flawed stroke can make the entire inscription useless—or worse, unstable. I'm sure you don't want it blowing up in your hand." 

Chen Ren glared at her for a moment, though he quickly schooled his expression back to neutrality. "I think I've got that part figured out, thanks." 

Qing He's lips twitched into a knowing smirk, but she said nothing, simply lifting her cup for another sip. 

She had dragged him here right after he'd informed Tang Xiulan that he was safe and that she didn't need to worry. 

When he had thought about learning the disciplines, he hadn't expected to be thrust into hours of grueling practice, learning the basic inscription symbols used in talisman crafting. It sounded straightforward and easy in theory, but in practice, it was maddening. Even the tiniest deviation—a millimeter off, an unsteady hand, or ink that dried too quickly—meant failure. 

And failure was all he had to show for the last few hours. 

He set his jaw, determined to get it right this time. The brush moved across the paper, his focus being his prime goal. Sweat beaded on his brow, his concentration razor-sharp. As he worked, he caught Qing He watching him from the corner of his eye, her expression calm but expectant, as if she were waiting for him to crack under the pressure. He almost groaned loudly for her to hear.

"Do you have to sit there and watch me?" he asked, his voice strained as he finished another line. 

"Of course," she said smoothly. "I wouldn't want you to feel neglected." 

A moment passed, and another. Chen Ren just stared at her not knowing if he should give up right away or if he should—

"What are you staring at? Why aren't you inscribing?" 

Chen Ren put down the brush and flexed his aching wrist, the stiffness beginning to creep up to his forearm. "I'm just tired. My wrist is killing me." 

Qing He scoffed, setting her teacup down with a faint clink. "Tired? Wrist hurting? That's nothing. You inscribe until your wrist can't move, and then you push past that. That's the way of a talisman master. What I've given you are the basic Tier 1 runic symbols. You should consider yourself lucky I didn't start you off with alchemy. Then you'd be learning the names of ten thousand herbs and their uses." 

She chuckled, her laugh somehow both light and ominous. "Actually, why don't we make that your next lesson—after you've completed a thousand inscriptions, of course." 

Chen Ren groaned inwardly, dropping his gaze back to the paper. "A thousand," he muttered, picking up the brush and dipping it back into the ink. "Why not make it ten thousand while you're at it?" 

"Don't tempt me," Qing He replied.

Chen Ren sighed heavily and refocused, the tip of his brush hovering over the paper as he prepared to start again. Just as he was about to inscribe the first line, the murmur of conversation drifted over from the other side of the tea shop. 

Two girls, familiar faces from the marketplace skirmish, were seated a few tables away— Yin Qiao and Mei Lian. Since their initial fight, they had apparently gotten closer. Their voices carried just enough for him to catch snippets of their talk. 

"The city tournament is starting soon," Yin Qiao said, excitement evident in her tone. "Are you going to take part?" 

Mei Lian shook her head, her expression nonchalant. "No, I'm better off cheering from the sidelines this time. But didn't it get canceled because of the demonic cultivator attack?" 

"Nope," Yin Qiao wiggled her eyebrows. "It's still on. I heard they're making changes to keep everything secure. Extra guards and all that. Apparently, City Lord Li got angry at the guards on the security of the city and they had been working hard to ensure the tournament goes right now." 

"Really? Then I wonder if Li Xuan is going to participate?"

"I have heard he will. Lots of cultivators are going to participate just to have a shot at challenging him." 

Mei Lian eyes widened. "Really? Then maybe I will go watch." 

Chen Ren couldn't help but smile as he listened. The idea of a city tournament brought a spark of interest to his otherwise grueling day. He had heard about it before, but with everything he had went through recently, the thought of it had completely left his mind. 

He turned slightly, his eyes meeting Qing He's piercing gaze. 

"What's that grin about? Are you planning to enter the tournament? Or are you just daydreaming again?" 

Chen Ren shook his head, though his smile didn't fade. "I'm not sure if I'll enter. I haven't decided yet. I can't enter without seeing if there's any prize I want." He tapped his chin thoughtfully, his mind already spinning. "But I do see it as an opportunity." 

Qing He raised a brow. "What kind of opportunity?" 

"For business, of course. A tournament means crowds. Crowds mean travelers from nearby villages and towns. It's the perfect chance to attract customers—and I've got so many ideas running through my head." 

Qing He leaned back, studying him with an amused expression. "You're more of a merchant than a cultivator, aren't you?" 

Chen Ren shrugged. "Why not both?" He picked up the brush again, his focus sharp. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to finish this before my next big venture." 

Qing He scoffed. "Well, just don't let your wrist fall off before you reach those thousand inscriptions."

Chapter 43

Over the next few days, Chen Ren's body healed with a speed that defied his expectations. The ache in his muscles faded, the faint stings of pain in his ribs dissipated, and soon, he felt stronger than he had before the battle. It was as if the ordeal had tempered his flesh, sharpening him like a blade pulled from the forge. He wasn't surprised knowing pills were a miraculous cure in this world, but knowing and seeing it firsthand was a different experience altogether. 

The city, too, began to find its usual liveliness once again. The chaos of the demonic rhino attack—so named by the people for the monstrosities that had trampled through the streets—had subsided, leaving an uneasy atmosphere in its wake. Despite that, the sound of hammers striking wood and labourers' voices filled the city as the wounds started to patch.

Rumours were as abundant as the dust kicked up by the repairs. Whispers of arrests carried on the wind, names of those dragged to the city guard station for interrogation multiplying with each passing day. Chen Ren learned that over half of these individuals were sent to the sect, destined to sit in the Purity Camber. A grimace tugged at his lips each time he thought of the chamber—a device designed to crush both body and spirit under its relentless pressure.

He could only offer a silent prayer for the poor souls subjected to it. 

Despite the arrests, no news of the demonic cultivator's capture emerged. The lack of resolution hung over the city like a storm that refused to break. Some proclaimed that the culprit had already been caught. Others speculated that he had fled, vanishing into the night like a shadow. 

"Fools," Qing He had scoffed over tea one afternoon. "If he'd been caught, the City Lord would've paraded him in the square by now, perhaps even staged a grand execution to reassure the masses. He might have just fled the city after the commotion he caused." 

Chen Ren nodded, though he disagreed with the notion that the demonic cultivator had fled. 

Demonic cultivators were notorious for their madness, but their actions often carried a sinister purpose. Both he and Yalan believed that the perpetrator still lurked within the city, biding his time to complete whatever vile quest he pursued. It was scary—especially the feeling of uncertainty.

It clawed his insides, over and over—whenever he thought of the demonic cultivator, but he refused to let it unbalance him. 

He got back into his routine, changing his training time to morning due to being wary of the demonic cultivator and focused on pushing his body and gaining mastery over his techniques every day. 

His goals remained steadfast: wealth, stability, and a future unmarred by poverty. Whatever chaos lingered in the city, Chen Ren resolved that his ambitions would not fall victim to it.

He'd rather think about his businesses and how to grow them. 

During all this, the City Lord's office rolled out the announcements and registration for the long-awaited tournament. Chen Ren guessed that Li Baolong was using the tournament as a way to distract the city from the gloom of the demonic cultivator attack. From the conversations he heard on every street, Chen Ren knew it was working. 

The rewards of the tournament were displayed prominently—glistening spirit stones, gleaming weapons, rare herbs, and ancient technique manuals. The promises of fortune and fame worked their magic, sparking excitement among cultivators and commoners alike. 

People spoke in animated tones about the tournament, their words filled with excitement. As he predicted, the city gates were busier than ever, welcoming travellers from nearby villages and towns, all eager to participate or watch the spectacle. 

The influx of visitors brought more customers to his noodle stall, and Tang Xiulan had to work tirelessly to keep up with the demand. Even the perfume shop, now under Tang Yuqiu's eye, saw a surge in business. It seemed young village women were particularly drawn to its offerings. And he wasn't the one to complain. 

"Do you know why the perfumes are selling so well lately?" Tang Yuqiu asked one afternoon, her lips curving in a knowing smile. 

"Enlighten me," Chen Ren replied, counting the day's earnings. 

"This time of year is considered auspicious for marriages. A nascent realm cultivator couple married at the end of summer centuries ago, and ever since, it's become a tradition for weddings," she explained. "The women are buying perfumes to stand out more, hoping to attract their destined partners." 

Chen Ren sighed, regret flashing in his eyes. "If I'd known, I could've started a clothing or jewelry business. The profit margins would've been massive." 

"You're already doing well with the stall and the perfume shop," Tang Yuqiu reminded him. 

"Well, I'm not stopping there," he said, though his mind raced, thinking about all the opportunities that lay ahead. He only needed to extend his hand to seize them. Especially with his new plan related to the upcoming tournament, which had been impossible to ignore with how loud people were getting about it.

Moreover, after spending a few solid minutes staring at the prize list, he made a decision—to enter it himself.

After all, what could go wrong, really? 

***

"Are you sure you want to enter the tournament?" Yalan asked, trailing behind Chen Ren as he followed the crowd in front of him. "Once your name is registered, there's no turning back." 

Chen Ren adjusted the sack on his shoulder, pausing to meet her gaze. "Yes, I've already told you why I'm entering." 

She nodded slowly. "For the plot of land and the spirit stones?" 

"Not just that," he replied and looked at her. "They're offering weapons, technique manuals, herbs, and more. I don't know if I'll take first place—there will be plenty of strong competitors—but I'm confident I can make it to the top four. That's all I need to secure the spirit stones for an official sect status." 

Yalan wiggled her tail aimlessly and continued her walk beside him. "And you think you can come in the top four?" 

"I've thought this through. By the time the tournament ends, I'll either be on the verge of breaking through to the qi refinement realm or maybe I'm already there. Besides, I have a few ideas I plan to test during the matches. If they work out, I'll have an edge over the others." 

Yalan studied him for a moment, then sighed. "I hope you know what you're doing. Just don't get yourself killed for spirit stones." 

Chen Ren chuckled, his grip tightening on the sack. "Don't worry. I'm not planning on dying anytime soon. I've got too much left to do." 

Chen Ren adjusted the sack on his shoulder once again while his eyes moved towards the crowd that had gathered in the streets. The city had become a melting pot of humanity, alive with travellers drawn by the promise of the tournament.

He noted their clothes, a mix of sturdy village garb and modestly refined attire, with an occasional flash of more affluent silks. Their expressions varied—some wide-eyed with wonder, others brimming with anticipation, and a few carrying the jaded look of seasoned wanderers. 

Among the throng, he caught snippets of conversations, some laced with accents unfamiliar to his ears. It was clear the tournament had cast its net far and wide, drawing people from distant regions. The sheer size of the crowd made manoeuvering through the streets a challenge, and Chen Ren had to carefully sidestep a group of travellers gawking at a nearby herbal stall. 

As he walked, his thoughts shifted to the implications of the crowd. This is bigger than I thought. The City Lord's office really knows how to put on a show.

Soon, the imposing structure of the City Lord's office stood right ahead of him. Unlike the streets, which were filled with commoners, the area around the office teemed with cultivators. Chen Ren's sharp senses picked up on the subtle aura fluctuations in the air and the resolute gazes on display. 

Most of them were body-forging realm cultivators, their cultivation levels no lower than the fifth star. Sprinkled among them were qi-refinement realm cultivators, though none seemed to have surpassed the second star. What caught Chen Ren's attention most, however, was how young some of them looked. Many of them looked barely adult, some even appearing to have only recently stepped into their teenage years. 

I didn't expect so many teenagers here. Although the tournament is only for early realm cultivators, I had no idea so many of them were there around Cloud Mist City, he thought to himself. 

Chen Ren knew the unspoken rules of such events. While the tournament was open to body-forging and lower qi-refinement realm cultivators, those who had already climbed higher in the latter realm wouldn't bother. Competing at this level would only tarnish their reputation, and most high-star qi-refinement cultivators were already members of sects. For those gathered here, the tournament was an opportunity. 

Many of them are likely hoping to catch the eye of sect recruiters, especially those from the Soaring Sword Sect, Chen Ren thought, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

A good performance here could serve as a backdoor into a sect, bypassing the gruelling entrance examinations. Though, he was sure there were also quite a lot of people who were only after glory and rewards. Like him. 

Lost in thought, he made his way through the crowd, eventually reaching the upper floors where the registration desks were set up. The air here buzzed with excitement but also quite… nervousness. Lines stretched long with eager and too-happy-to-be-here participants.

Chen Ren scanned the faces at the desks and immediately spotted a familiar figure. 

Liu Wen, flanked by his usual colleagues, sat at the head of one of the lines. He looked as bored as ever, casually tossing a wooden token between his fingers as he processed registrations. 

Chen Ren joined the line, his gaze sweeping over the cultivators around him. He couldn't help but size them up, noting their postures, weapons, and subtle giveaways of their strength. Some exuded confidence, others carried the nervous energy of their first competition, and a few kept their expressions guarded, their intentions unreadable. 

As he waited, he glanced again at Liu Wen. The man hadn't noticed him yet, too engrossed in talking to the cultivators. 

Let's see how many of these people are real competition, he thought, sending a signal to Yalan while he bided his time. 

Chen Ren stood casually in line, his sack of potatoes resting against his shoulder. Yalan perched on his other shoulder, her amber eyes gleaming with mischief. Despite her playful demeanour, she was quietly doing what she did best—analysing the crowd. 

"That one," she whispered, her tail flicking toward a tall young man clad in leather armour. "Seventh star of body forging, but look at his stance. He favors his right side. Probably a lingering injury in his left leg." 

Chen Ren nodded slightly, letting her observations sink in. "And the one with the spear?" 

Yalan squinted, her sharp gaze scanning the young woman gripping the polished weapon. "First star of qi refinement. Decent aura control, but she's gripping the spear too tightly. I don't think she has a lot of practice with it." 

Her ability to gauge someone's strengths and weaknesses at a glance was uncanny, and Chen Ren felt a small swell of gratitude for her presence. Without her, he wouldn't know for sure who he needed to be at guard against. 

He smirked, passing the time with her commentary until the line finally shuffled forward enough for him to step up to the counter. Liu Wen, seated behind the desk, looked up and immediately broke into a grin. 

"Ah, Chen Ren! Didn't think I'd see you here," Liu Wen said, his tone both friendly and surprised. His gaze drifted to Yalan for a moment before turning towards the sack on his shoulder. "And... what's that?" 

Chen Ren shifted the sack slightly. "Potatoes."

Liu Wen blinked. "Potatoes? What for?" He asked. "And are you really entering the tournament?" 

"I decided to enter after seeing the rewards for the tournament," Chen Ren said, setting the sack down with a soft thud. "As for these, I plan to do something with them and sell them during the event." 

"Potatoes?" Liu Wen repeated, his brows furrowing. "You think people will buy them? I mean, your noodles are already a hit. Those would probably sell better." 

Chen Ren chuckled, knowing where he was coming from. "I'm not just selling potatoes. You'll see once you're there. I don't think it'll disappoint you." 

Liu Wen leaned back in his chair, grinning. "Yeah, I'm sure of it. I'm already a big fan of your noodles. Whatever dish you make out of those potatoes, I'll be first in line." 

With that, he reached under the counter and pulled out a registration form, sliding it across the table toward Chen Ren. "Here you go. Fill this out. The prizes and entry fees are listed at the bottom. Make sure to double-check everything." 

Chen Ren picked up the form, his gaze flicking over the details. The structure was straightforward, with a steep entry fee of a hundred silver wen, which fortunately, he could pay without issue. Participants recommended by the Soaring Sword Sect or the City Lord's Office were exempt from the fee.

His mind worked quickly, already calculating the cost-benefit ratio of the entry fee compared to the rewards.

He skimmed through the tournament rules, noting that the event would consist of five rounds, starting with a chaotic battle royale, followed by increasingly intense one-on-one duels. The schedule was gruelling, with matches running sixteen hours a day so it could finish within the allocated time. The venue—a grand arena in the upper streets.

Then his eyes fell on the rewards, neatly outlined in a bold, eye-catching box:

—

The Grand Cloud Mist City Tournament: Tournament Rewards!

Top 8:

 FIVE spirit stones

THREE pills

 ONE weapon

Top 4: 

TEN spirit stones

 FIVE pills

Rare herbs for Alchemy

 ONE weapon of choice (crafted by the Soaring Sword Sect's blacksmith)

Runner up: 

TWENTY-FIVE Spirit Stones 

 TEN Pills 

 Rare Herbs for Alchemy 

 ONE Cultivation Manual of Choice (from the Soaring Sword Sect) 

Inner Disciple Status in Soaring Sword Sect 

Winner:

 FIFTY Spirit Stones 

TWENTY Pills 

Rare Herbs and Beast Essence 

ONE Cultivation Manual of Choice 

ONE Weapon of Choice (crafted by the Soaring Sword Sect's blacksmith)

 A Large Plot of Land (near a nearby village) 

Core Elder Discipleship in Soaring Sword Sect

Chen Ren's lips curled into a small smile as he read the list. He sent a mental message to Yalan. "See? If I won, there'd be plenty of benefits."

Yalan's voice chimed back in his mind, dripping with doubt. "Do you really think you can win? There are lots of people stronger than you here."

Chen Ren's smile didn't falter. "Maybe. But I've got plans. Reaching the top eight should be easy enough. Once I'm there, I can fight my way to the semifinals—maybe even the finals. And even if I don't get the plot, those spirit stones will be more than enough to buy it." 

The feline spirit hummed thoughtfully. "You're ambitious, I'll give you that. But ambition without strength is just a fool's dream."

Chen Ren chuckled. "Good thing I plan on having both." 

Chen Ren moved to the counter, picked up the form, and began writing down his details. As he wrote, the hum of the crowd behind him suddenly quieted, replaced by a loud, arrogant voice. 

"Hey! Get out of the way! The young master of the Cang Clan is here to register! Clear the path, or face the consequences!" 

Chen Ren turned his head, his quill pausing mid-stroke. A scrawny man stood pointing a trembling finger at him, his expression twisted with self-importance. Behind him stood the supposed "young master"—a cultivator whose aura screamed peak body forging realm. His tailored outfit exuded wealth, and his long, flowing purple hair stood out from everyone within the vicinity.

Chen Ren's brows arched slightly. Dye? Or some weird cultivation technique? 

He knew that martial techniques could have those side effects and as a reason, cultivators often had a variety of coloured hair. 

"Sorry," Chen Ren said calmly, turning back to his form. "I'm registering right now. If you want to register, you'll need to wait at the back of the line like everyone else." 

The atmosphere grew tense immediately. 

Chen Ren saw Liu Wen's gaze drop nervously to the desk as whispers rippled through the room. He looked back. The scrawny man looked stunned, his finger frozen mid-point. Then, his face turned beet red. 

"Didn't you hear me? The young master Cang Rui is here!" the servant barked. "Give him face, or you'll regret it!" 

Chen Ren, shifting his focus back on his form, replied evenly, "What can he do?" 

Before the servant could respond, the young master strode forward. Hearing the loud thuds of footwork, Chen Ren looked up. Seems like the form will have to wait a little. 

Cang Rui's eyes glinted dangerously as he sized Chen Ren up. His hands placed on his hips as if he was ready to launch into an attack. 

"Are you doubting my ability to do something to you?" he asked, his voice reverberating through the room. "Who are you, even?" 

"Chen Ren," he replied without any hesitation. 

Cang Rui's narrowed eyes lit up with recognition in an instant. The young master's lips curled into a sneer. "Ah, Chen Ren. The one working with Tang Yuqiu in that little perfume business." His voice carried a dismissive tone. "I've heard of you—briefly. I never expected you'd be so brazen. If you're trying to run a business, you should know better than to go against the interests of the major clans." 

Chen Ren's expression remained neutral as he straightened, folding his arms. "I'm not going against the Cang Clan. Or even you. I'm just pointing out that you simply need to wait in line for your turn to register, and if you can't even understand such a common sense, I doubt you'll amount to anything." 

The words hit like a slap, the room falling deathly silent as every gaze locked on the young master. His aura flared, his face twisting in rage. 

"You dare insult me?!" he snarled, his voice echoing through the chamber. "You won't get out of here alive!" 

Without warning, he lashed out, his fist surging forward with a burst of wind, the pressure sharp enough to rustle the papers on Liu Wen's desk. The sheer force of the strike made the weaker cultivators in the room step back instinctively. 

But Chen Ren didn't flinch. His eyes locked onto the incoming punch, calmly stepping aside as the strike barely grazed his robes. The young master's power wavered, the energy dissipating mid-strike as his overzealous attack faltered. 

The room erupted in murmurs, astonishment flashing across the onlookers' faces. Chen Ren's calm composure contrasted sharply with the young master's now-frustrated expression. 

"Is that it? You'll have to do better than that if you plan to keep your threats." 

Cang Rui stared at his fist in disbelief, then glanced around the room. His entire face twisted into an ugly angry face as he barked, "What just happened? Why didn't my attack work?" 

Chen Ren shook his head and looked around."There are arrays around here," he explained calmly. "This is the city lord's office. They block any technique that uses even a bit of qi. You won't be able to fight here, no matter how hard you try." 

That earned him another life-threatening glare from Cang Rui, his jaw tightening. "I don't need qi to deal with someone like you!" he spat, taking a step forward. 

Chen Ren raised an eyebrow, as he 'tsked' disappointedly. 

"You really are an idiot, aren't you? Do you realize where we are?" He gestured subtly around the room, the faint insignia of the city lord visible above the registration desk. "If you try anything here, it means you're openly disrespecting the city lord's authority. The guards will come, and they won't care who your clan is. They'll drag you away in front of everyone. And with this audience..." Chen Ren tilted his head slightly toward the room full of amused onlookers. "Why sully your clan's name for nothing?" 

The young master froze, his gaze darting around. For the first time, he seemed to truly notice the growing crowd of spectators. Many of them were openly smirking or suppressing laughter. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment, and he clenched his fists tightly. Finally, he jabbed a finger at Chen Ren. 

"Fine," he snapped. "Meet me outside when you're done. Let's settle this properly!" 

Chen Ren snickered, shaking his head. "No. Once again, you fail to grasp the situation. The city is crawling with guards due to the demonic cultivator attacks and the influx of travelers for the tournament. If you try anything outside, they'll intervene, and trust me, the consequences will be far worse than just a scolding here. You'll be dragged away like a common thug." 

He paused, letting his words sink in, then added with a touch of finality, "Don't be so stupid. Go to the back of the line and wait your turn. Let me finish my registration in peace." 

Without waiting for a response, Chen Ren turned back to his form, his quill gliding across the parchment as if the entire exchange had already been forgotten. From the corner of his eye, he saw the young master huff angrily and stomp to the back of the line, his servant trailing behind him. Cang Rui's eyes, however, never left Chen Ren, glaring daggers at him the entire way. 

Chen Ren smirked to himself, the corner of his lips curling. 

Liu Wen leaned in slightly, whispering, "Do you really have to antagonize him? He's not just some nobody. The Cang Clan is influential, and he's rumored to be one of the prospective semi finalists this year. Unlike Bai Shen, he's well-trained and has proper backing." 

Chen Ren finished the last stroke of his name and set the quill down, his smirk widening. "I didn't do anything. He got angry all on his own," he shrugged. "Besides, I don't care about angering him. In fact, I'd say it's better this way." 

"Better?" Liu Wen blinked, confused. "Why?" 

Chen Ren leaned slightly against the counter, his expression turning sly. "Because I needed someone like him for my plans," he said, his voice low but confident. "Influential, hot-blooded, dumb, and easy to manipulate. He's perfect." 

Liu Wen's confusion deepened. "What kind of plans?" 

Chen Ren chuckled, picking up his form and handing it over. "Let's just say it'll all make sense during the tournament. Like the potatoes—" he patted the sack slung over his shoulder—"you'll see soon enough. I promise it won't disappoint." 

Liu Wen could only shake his head, muttering, "You're either a genius or a madman." 

Chen Ren grinned. "Why not both?"

Chapter 44

The registration process was quick and easy. Once Chen Ren was done, he turned around and headed straight to meet Tang Xiulan. He wanted to talk about their plans for the upcoming tournament.

She had been single-handedly managing the noodle stall during his recent busy days. To his pleasant surprise, she had not only maintained their regular customer base but also managed to increase it significantly. It was mainly due to the influx of travellers in the city who'd created a rush, and she had smartly capitalised on it.

On the other hand, their partnership had grown stronger. She continued to give him daily records every night once he was free, and she even suggested ideas regarding the business.

One idea she brought up stood out to him. She had proposed that they actually hire the street kids that had been helping them around.

That was an interesting proposition, and initially, Chen Ren hesitated, unsure of the idea of formalising their roles. But after giving it some thought, he realised that it made sense. The kids were already involved in the business, and giving them proper jobs would keep them away from dangerous paths like theft and banditry. Even though he didn't like to admit it, the kids gave him a sense of responsibility.

Regardless, beyond that, with the tournament drawing closer and the crowds expected to swell, he would need every available hand to maximise profits and not get overwhelmed in the process.

Therefore, after considering the logistics, he set their wages at three silver wen a month. It was a modest sum but would suffice for their needs. And, alongside the salary, they would receive free meals.

Chen Ren smiled at the thought. It was a fair deal for now, though he planned to increase their pay once the business expanded further. The kids would become an important part of the business's operations, just like Xiulan, whose contributions since the beginning had proven invaluable.

While Xiulan handled the stall and prepared for the tournament rush, Chen Ren focused his attention on his cultivation. He knew that if he wanted to make an impact in the tournament, his skills would need to be razor-sharp. His lightning techniques remained his ace, but he wasn't content to rely solely on them. So, he threw himself into learning talismans and array formations.

Tournament rules forbade the use of pills, but talismans and arrays were permitted—but only if the competitors themselves created them. That stipulation worked in his favour, as it allowed him to lean into his growing expertise in the disciplines. Even so, the speed with which he was learning them wasn't enough to satisfy him.

According to Qing He, he was making decent progress and might even be talented in the disciplines, but until he learnt to apply arrays and talismans into battles, he wouldn't be able to make full use of them.

To circumvent that, he decided to intensify his training.

On a crisp morning just days before the competition, Chen Ren went deep into the forest. Yalan walked behind him, keeping track of his steps. The forest was alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, and the eerie feeling of the beasts who roamed inside it. But the location was perfect, no prying eyes, no one to disturb—he could simply practise his combat techniques, test the limits of his talismans and sharpen his arrays.

Chen Ren inhaled deeply and felt the pulse of his qi as he centred himself. He was crouched low in the undergrowth while his heart thudded in his chest. He turned his head slightly as he looked at the cat behind him.

"Do you really think this is a good idea? We could just find something else, you know?"

Yalan flicked her tail lazily in a nearby branch. "If you can't handle a Tier 1 duskwolf, you're not going to defeat anyone in the tournament."

Chen Ren sighed, his gaze shifting back to the clearing ahead.

Just beyond the underbrush, a wolf stood over a torn unrecognised carcass, its sharp fangs tearing brutally through flesh. Its dark, mottled grey coat was streaked with blood, which dripped from the raw meat it savoured. It was the sheer size of the creature—twice that of a normal wolf, with the girth of a full-grown cattle—that sent a chill down his spine, combined with the feral glint in its eyes and the blood-stained maw.

Why does she always find the scariest ones? Chen Ren wondered, his jaw tightening. This may be Yalan's way of toughening his mental state, forcing him to confront his fears head-on. If that was her goal, it wasn't helping.

Turning back to Yalan, he conversed through his mind, "You know very well that a Tier 1 beast just means it's in the body forging realm. That thing looks like it's at the peak of it."

Yalan yawned, unbothered. "It's around your level," she replied, her voice sounding as if it was almost mocking his fears. "You've got your tricks. Try not to act so scared every time. We both know you have the confidence to beat it—especially after that rhino."

Chen Ren winced at the mention of the rhino. The memory of the terrifying beast was still a fresh wound, but Yalan's words struck a chord. Compared to that monstrous creature, this wolf seemed... manageable. Probably.

But staying here, hidden, wouldn't do any of them any favours. He had to move forward to fight it.

He let out a long breath, pushing the fear aside. "Yeah, I know."

He shifted his focus, replaying the lessons he'd learned from the rhino fight in his mind. Then, steeling himself, he rose from his hiding spot and stepped out into the clearing.

The duskwolf immediately snapped its head up, blood dripping from the sides of its mouth as it locked eyes with him. Its lips curled into what could only be described as a cruel smirk, as though it had just found its next meal. It leaned backwards and aimed at Chen Ren without hesitation, and leapt towards him. The snarly thing clawed the air, wanting to catch Chen Ren.

Just then, his hand shot into his pocket, pulling out a Tier 1 fire talisman. He infused it with a spark of his lightning qi. The talisman burned with an intense black smoke, and for a fleeting moment, he felt as if his own hand was on fire—a surge of energy washed through him.

Then, nothing.

The energy disappeared into the air without a trace. His eyes widened in horror as he realised what had just happened. "Fuck!" he cursed, leaping to the side using [Lightning Step] just as the duskwolf's claws raked the spot where he'd stood.

Chen Ren saw the long nails scraping the dirty soil and leaving marks in its wake.

Landing in a crouch, Chen Ren turned to see the duskwolf pivoting, its glowing eyes locked on him as it prepared for another attack. Its speed was relentless, and it was already on him before he could fully regain his footing.

He sidestepped its swipe at the last moment, his fist snapping out in retaliation. His strike connected with the beast's flank, sending it tumbling away. The impact left a slight scorch mark on its fur from Chen Ren's lightning qi.

The duskwolf rose again, growling, its fur now singed but the monster didn't seem to care. Chen Ren straightened, his breathing steadying as he met its gaze. "Alright, you mangy mutt," he muttered, his eyes narrowing. "Let's see what you've got."

Although he knew the brainless beast didn't understand his words, the duskwolf's actions spoke otherwise. It charged toward him, its claws slicing through the air and blood that was previously on its face, splattering everywhere.

Chen Ren's pulse quickened but he didn't hesitate.

He pulled the small pouch from his belt and sprinkled a fine white powder onto the ground in front of him, forming a circle. His hands moved quickly, reaching for the two talismans he'd created earlier.

As the duskwolf neared, he began chanting softly under his breath. His heartbeat thudded in his ears as he concentrated, praying that everything would go as planned this time. The powder on the ground turned orange as it began to burn. The scent of it rose in the air like incense.

He looked up from the circle and saw that the angry duskwolf almost had him. But before it could reach him, it slammed into an invisible wall with a loud thud. The transparent barrier shimmered before it, crackling faintly from the impact, holding the wolf back.

Chen Ren's face lit up with a satisfied grin. The array had worked.

Quickly, he held one of the talismans and activated it. This time, the talisman ignited correctly, forming a fireball. He did the same with the second talisman, and two fireballs materialised in the air, their flames roaring and flickering as they hurtled toward the wolf.

The duskwolf howled in pain as the fireballs struck its side, scorching its fur and skin. The beast stumbled back, trying desperately to retreat, but its movements were sluggish, weighed down by all the burnt marks. It could only stagger for a few moments before collapsing, its body twitching as it lay motionless in the dirt, a charred carcass.

Chen Ren stood there, his breath coming in heavy gasps, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He watched the remains of the duskwolf, the fireballs having done their work. As he slowly relaxed, he glanced down at the array's barrier, now cracking and fading.

He let out a long breath. "Well, that's not as good as I expected."

Yalan emerged from the underbrush, her tail swaying in the air. She glanced at the shattered duskwolf carcass and then at the barrier's cracks. "At least, unlike last time, you didn't trap yourself in the barrier and have to break it to get out."

Chen Ren gave a wry smile, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, my chant was wrong, then. This time, I messed up with the first talisman too. I'm not sure if I did something wrong while burning it, or if the rune was just messed up. Probably the latter." He shook his head in frustration. "I need more practice with these before I can use them in the tournament."

"Do you really think it'll work against cultivators?" she asked. "You were able to kill the wolf because it was distracted by the barrier, but cultivators would have movement techniques, and your fireballs are still pretty slow."

Chen Ren exhaled through his mouth as he thought about her words. It was true. Cultivators could move at incredible speeds, and his fireballs, while effective against a distracted, brainless beast, would be likely easy to dodge in a real fight. But this was just the beginning. He still had a lot to learn and refine before he could stand toe-to-toe with skilled cultivators in the tournament.

"I'll figure something out.. I have to. I'm not going to let something like speed stop me from winning this."

Chen Ren stood silently for a moment, his mind racing as he stared at the remnants of the duskwolf's carcass. His eyes drifted from the deceased beast towards Yalan who was laid next to it. Slowly, he began to form an idea in his mind, a strategy that didn't rely solely on brute force. He turned to Yalan, speaking as though he had come to a realisation.

"Actually," he started by saying, a small smile already forming in his lips. "I'm not going to use arrays or talismans necessarily for direct attacks. They'll be more like distractions."

"Distractions?"

Chen Ren nodded, glancing down at the white powder that was still scattered on the ground. He gathered the remaining powder into a small pouch. Unlike talismans, which could be prepared ahead of time, arrays required specific materials, precise placements, and proper chants to activate. They were more like rituals, complicated and needing extra caution.

The tier-1 arrays, at least, were straightforward. They only needed the powder, a bit of qi from the air, and a chant. But even that was tricky. He had to position the powder just right for the array to function, and even the slightest disturbance could ruin everything. Chen Ren didn't fully understand how they worked, but that didn't bother him much. What mattered to him were the results.

Till now, he'd only been able to study barrier arrays.

Although he had made progress in talismans, he knew he needed to learn more about how to use them… creatively.

Yalan had talked about it a lot, but battles weren't really time-consuming. He also had experiences in the fights he'd taken part in. A well-paced strike or a clever use of resources could decide the outcome in just a few moves. Especially against weak cultivators. And that's why he needed to focus on innovation.

He had to find a way to break through any challenge that he might face during the tournament using more than just the expected techniques.

As Chen Ren continued to ponder his strategies, his gaze shifted to Yalan, who was casually swiping at the air with her claws to kill a bug that had been bothering her. She did it fluidly and effortlessly, her eyes momentarily gleaming before returning to their usual calm. It was a sight that momentarily distracted him, but then something clicked in his mind.

"Hey, Yalan," he asked, his eyes squinted as his curiosity got the best of him. "Don't you know a lot of techniques?"

Yalan tilted her head slightly, her gaze meeting his as she replied nonchalantly, "Yes, but I don't know any lightning techniques. As you know, the element I mostly deal with is fire."

Chen Ren nodded, already knowing about her fire affinity, but a thought sparked in his mind. "But don't you have other techniques that don't require a fire affinity?"

Yalan paused for a moment, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. She fluttered her tail irritatedly. "I do, but they aren't easy to learn, nor would you be able to master them in such a short time before the tournament. Most of the techniques I know are quite advanced."

Chen Ren smiled, the excitement in his eyes clear. "That's okay. I can take it easy with the martial techniques, but I would like you to teach me a small trick before the tournament."

***

Li Xuan's sword cut through the air, the blade loudly striking the massive, ancient tree. Each hit sent splinters of lightning into the branches, yet the tree stood firm, barely even dented. Sweat beaded on his brow, but he didn't stop, swinging his blade again and again.

With every strike, his mind focused inward, tracing the steps of his martial dao, the path of the sword.

Every cut had to be precise, every movement had to have exact intent. If there was no reason behind the strike, then it was nothing but aimless flailing, a waste of energy. The strikes needed purpose. They needed to be driven by the desire to cut through everything in their path. This was the essence of the first art of the Seven Sword Arts— One Slash Strike!

He had been working tirelessly toward mastering it, trying to use every movement with clarity. To know and face anyone or anything that'd come across him and his sword. It wasn't easy, but he pushed himself forward.

His sword rang out as it struck the bark again. The tree's wood cracked slightly, but it did not give. Li Xuan's jaw tightened, frustration bubbling up.

He had to push past this barrier. He had to make this tree fall.

Then, a shout interrupted his rhythm, cutting through the tension of the moment.

"Senior Li Xuan, you have been called by master!"

Li Xuan's blade froze mid-swing. With a deep breath, he stepped back, sheath in hand, and turned to see one of his fellow disciples standing a few feet away. He nodded and placed the sword across his back, straightening his posture.

"Alright," Li Xuan said, his voice steady, though his mind still lingered on the challenge of his sword technique.

He moved through the familiar corridors of the Soaring Sword Sect's training grounds. The path to his master's room felt heavy, knowing there was always something behind his words—an intent, a goal, a lesson, and most of the time, a sense of superiority. His master's presence always made the disciples feel small, not only because of his vast knowledge and experience but also because of the high expectations he set for his favourite disciples.

Though, he prided himself in overcoming each one of his expectations.

When he reached his master's chambers, he paused to bow, lowering his head in deference. "Master Xiaosheng, you called for me."

Master Xiaosheng, one of the core elders of the sect, sat in a chair, his robes flowing elegantly around him. His eyes were sharp as he looked at Li Xuan, trailing his eyes down the tall frame. His presence was as commanding as ever, his cultivation level firmly rooted in the core formation stage. His long, silvery beard swayed slightly as he breathed deeply.

"Ah, Li Xuan, you are here. I've heard of your request to go back to Cloud Mist City to participate in the city tournament. I'm allowing you to go, but I want you to promise me something."

Li Xuan straightened, concerned, flickering in his eyes, but he kept his voice steady. "What is it, master?"

Master Xiaosheng's gaze hardened, his eyes narrowing as he stroked his beard, slowly. "Win it. You are a core disciple of mine, Li Xuan. If you lose, it will bring shame to both me and the sect. I am only allowing you to interact with the mortal world because you have shown great progress in your cultivation. Otherwise, you would have remained isolated until you entered the foundation establishment realm. You know that we cultivators must remind the mortal population that we are above them."

Li Xuan winced, the weight of his master's words sinking in. The sect's disdain for the mortal world and their belief in their superiority was something he had grown accustomed to, though it still stung. He lowered his head respectfully. "I understand, master. I will make sure to win."

Master Xiaosheng nodded approvingly, but his expression remained stern. "Good. Also, there is something else."

"Yes, master?"

"A demonic cultivator has recently been on the rise in the city. While it is unlikely you will cross paths with him, if you do, I want you to kill him and bring his head back here. A mere demonic cultivator should be easy for you to handle, and it will curry favor with the sect leader."

Li Xuan's eyes hardened, a cold flicker of recognition crossing his gaze. The idea of dealing with a demonic cultivator wasn't a new one. Such threats were often dealt swiftly within the sect, but he understood that this wasn't just a matter of duty—it was an opportunity to show his worth.

Although his master had talked about it casually, he knew that he only did so because he wanted Li Xuan to kill the demonic cultivator. Speaking straight to the point wasn't his master's way of doing things and he had gotten used to it during his time in the sect.

But, some questions arose in his mind when he thought about the demonic cultivator.

Li Xuan hesitated for a moment, then looked up at his master.

"How will I find him, master?"

Master Xiaosheng scoffed, his expression hardening. The corner of his lips turned upwards as his hands flew into the air. "You can figure that out yourself," he said with disdain. "Do I have to tell you everything? You have a brain of your own, so use it."

Li Xuan immediately nodded, and bowed again. "Will do, master. I will find that demonic cultivator and bring the head back here."

When he lifted his head up, Master Xiaosheng waved his hand dismissively, signalling the end of the conversation. "Now go. It will take time for you to reach the city." Li Xuan nodded, but the next part of his words made him wince. "And remember to stay away from mortals... Even if your mother is one."

Li Xuan barely held back a frown from covering his face. He couldn't help but let the bitter feeling of those words sting his throat. He flinched at the tone and the intent, his grip tightening around the hem of his robes.

His mother, a mortal. That reminder never failed to sting. To him, it was not a big deal, but for his master, it only meant that half of his blood was dirty, having barely any worth.

His heart felt heavy. He wanted to talk against his master and reveal his true feelings about the matter, but he simply nodded obediently.

"Yes, master," Li Xuan said, his voice quieter than before, his words laced with both respect and an underlying bitterness he dared not show.

With that, he turned and exited the room, the weight of the conversation settling on his shoulders. His footsteps were heavy as he moved through the familiar halls of the sect. The path ahead was clear but difficult. He had to participate in the tournament, face whatever challenges it brought, and, in the meantime, figure out the whereabouts of the demonic cultivator his master wanted him to eliminate.

But that didn't stop the last words of his master from bothering him. Instead of heading straight for the exit, Li Xuan found himself walking back toward the tree where he had been practising earlier.

The ancient tree still stood, its bark unharmed by his previous attempts.

"My mother being a mortal doesn't mean she's lowly or dirty," he muttered, picking up his sword and continuing his spar with the tree. "I will prove you wrong. I will prove everyone wrong."

Training always made his head weigh less and his thoughts numb—which was exactly what he needed after talking to Master Xiaosheng.