Chen Yang's expression froze for a moment.
He clearly hadn't expected that Yang Tianming would also set his sights on the position of Sect Master's Personal Disciple.
The news was like a boulder hurled into a still lake, instantly sending towering waves crashing in every direction.
His breathing quickened beyond his control, his chest pounding furiously, as though a startled rabbit were trapped inside.
And yet.
As he savored the feeling more carefully.
He realized that this racing heartbeat did not stem from fear — it was an excitement he could barely put into words!
The opportunity he had long been waiting for had finally appeared before him!
To face Yang Tianming head-on in the Personal Disciple Trial!
That thought alone was enough to set his blood boiling!
Lin Yang keenly caught the shift in his expression. A flicker of puzzlement crossed those eyes that seemed capable of reading a person's soul, and he asked:
"In your heart… you feel no fear at all?"
He had expected that upon hearing Yang Tianming would also be participating, Chen Yang would at least show some sign of gravity or hesitation.
Chen Yang slowly shook his head. He straightened up slightly where he stood, his gaze calm and resolute:
"I'm not afraid."
His voice was not loud, yet it carried a tone of absolute finality.
The surprise in Lin Yang's eyes deepened.
He looked Chen Yang up and down, and only then noticed the already-stabilized aura of the seventh level of the Qi Refinement Realm emanating from him. He couldn't help raising an eyebrow slightly, seemingly caught off guard by the speed of Chen Yang's breakthrough.
But he pressed on:
"Even so, Yang Tianming is at the ninth level of the Qi Refinement Realm — his cultivation far surpasses yours. And he is no empty reputation like Li Yan."
Chen Yang shook his head again, his gaze unwavering:
"I have no dread of that either."
Lin Yang gave his folding fan a light wave and continued:
"Yang Tianming comes from an extraordinary background. His clan's heritage runs deep, and he commands certain secret arts unknown to the outside world — arts of terrifying power, far beyond anything the sect's ordinary cultivation techniques can match."
Chen Yang's gaze remained as still as undisturbed water, as though what Lin Yang described were trivial matters of no concern:
"I fear none of it."
Lin Yang watched him standing there, impervious and seemingly without a shred of apprehension, and the look of amusement in his eyes grew richer.
His tone shifted abruptly, carrying a barely perceptible note of probing:
"What's more, beside Yang Tianming, there is also Junior Sister Zhao… As for Junior Sister Zhao, do you truly feel nothing at all…"
He left the sentence unfinished.
But the meaning was plain enough.
He was probing whether Chen Yang still harbored old feelings for Zhao Yanran — whether that might cause him to hold back in his clash with Yang Tianming, or even go easy on him.
Upon hearing this, Chen Yang's face showed not the slightest ripple, as though he had heard the name of a complete stranger.
He cut Lin Yang off, his tone detached and distant, as if stating a fact that had nothing to do with him:
"Zhao Yanran and I — there has been no feeling between us for a long time. Perhaps once… there lingered some trace of obsession or unwillingness. But now, she is no different to me than a stranger on the road. Her choices, her cultivation partner — none of it concerns me."
Upon hearing this, Lin Yang slowly closed the folding fan in his hand. Those eyes that were always half-lidded opened fully, shining with a scrutinizing light.
He said nothing, but began to walk a slow circle around Chen Yang.
His gaze was like the finest measuring instrument, taking the measure of every trace of expression on Chen Yang's face, every shift in his eyes.
What he saw was calm — a calm as still as stagnant water.
No resentment. No lingering attachment. No forced nonchalance.
It was the kind of indifference that only comes after one has truly let go.
Returning to where he had stood, Lin Yang snapped the folding fan open again with a whoosh, shielding the lower half of his face, leaving only a pair of eyes carrying a faint smile — a smile that did not reach their depths:
"Brother Chen truly takes advice to heart. Your resolve is firm — you've given this Lin quite a new impression of you."
His tone held a note of approval, yet seemed to conceal something else:
"I had thought that yesterday, in the plaza, when you saw Junior Sister Zhao… hmm… gracefully soaring through the air with that captivating figure of hers, some ripples might have stirred in your heart again, leaving you unable to help yourself…"
He hadn't finished speaking.
Chen Yang suddenly looked as though he had heard something utterly absurd. Without turning his head, he merely slanted his eyes toward Lin Yang, his face filled with undisguised skepticism and bewilderment:
"What captivating figure? Where exactly is Zhao Yanran's figure captivating?"
He asked this with complete naturalness, carrying a genuine confusion from the heart, as though Lin Yang were describing someone he had never met.
Lin Yang was caught off guard by this sudden retort and the sidelong glance that came with it.
After a moment's recovery, he raised the folding fan a few inches higher, nearly covering his face entirely.
Only a pair of slightly widened eyes were visible above the fan's ribs, studying Chen Yang with a tone of some uncertainty:
"It's just… you know, that… a woman's curves, her graceful and willowy form…"
Chen Yang's expression of skepticism grew even heavier upon hearing this.
He seemed to recall something he was absolutely certain of, and with a serious tone carrying the bluntness of someone exposing the truth, he said:
"That's fake — padding. She stuffed something in there. We were together for so many years; do you think I don't know? It's nothing like that at all!"
And then.
Chen Yang's deeply puzzled gaze settled on Lin Yang again, his words carrying an inexplicably strange undertone:
"You… you didn't know? Aren't you…"
Stolen novel; please report.
He stopped himself halfway, seemingly feeling that what came next was somewhat inappropriate, and said no more.
"…"
Chen Yang's merciless, straight-to-the-point answer left Lin Yang completely stunned. Even the fingers gripping the folding fan stiffened slightly.
The habitual air of languid composure on his face went blank for an instant — clearly he was utterly dumbfounded, having not anticipated such an answer at all.
But he was, after all, sharp-minded and quick to recover.
In the blink of an eye, the stunned expression receded like a tide, and his former composure returned — though beneath that composure, there now seemed to lurk some subtle, indescribable emotion.
He let out a soft "Oh."
His tone sounded as casual as he could manage, as though it were merely an offhand remark:
"I… I naturally knew. I was only saying it casually, testing you."
Chen Yang watched him swiftly regain his composure, yet hide his face almost entirely behind the folding fan.
Though he still harbored doubts — suspecting that Lin Yang had deliberately brought up Zhao Yanran to tease him — he chose not to press further.
Truth be told, Chen Yang no longer held much resentment toward Lin Yang in his heart.
Even though this person had been entangled with Zhao Yanran in ways that had once made him feel boundless humiliation and fury.
But…
Lin Yang had, in very real terms, saved his life twice!
Once during the demon beast rampage in the back mountains, when he had carried the unconscious Chen Yang out of danger.
And again just yesterday, in the sect plaza, when he had stepped forward at a critical moment to shield Chen Yang from the terrifyingly powerful Yang Tianming!
The fact that Chen Yang felt no fear did not mean he was unaware of the vast gap in their respective strengths.
In yesterday's situation, had he faced Yang Tianming directly — setting aside spell techniques and Divine Abilities — just that man's uncanny speed and domineering palm strikes alone would have left Chen Yang in grave peril!
Though he had never been able to figure out why Lin Yang kept stepping in to help him, his motives remaining a mystery.
But judge by deeds, not by intent.
The fact that Lin Yang had saved him was something that had genuinely happened.
And so, even though watching Lin Yang's perpetually mysterious air — that look of having everything under control — still stirred a faint unease in his heart.
Compared to Li Yan's arrogant bluster.
Compared to Yang Tianming's condescending pride.
Lin Yang, at least…
Had not yet brought Chen Yang that extreme sense of revulsion.
Looking back, it was only when Zhao Yanran had first returned from her family visit and the two had met for the first time that Chen Yang had felt an instinctive dislike for that inscrutable smile of his — always worried he was scheming something behind the scenes.
But the more he observed him, the more they interacted.
It seemed…
He wasn't so bad?
At least so far, what Lin Yang had shown was more a helping hand than malice.
Just as Chen Yang's thoughts were swirling, weighing his impressions of Lin Yang, Lin Yang suddenly made a move.
He flicked his wrist, and from somewhere produced a jade slip of an ancient, blue-grey style.
The surface of the jade slip was smooth, with a faint spiritual light flowing across it — clearly no ordinary object at a glance.
Chen Yang's train of thought was interrupted. His gaze fell on the jade slip, and he paused, asking in puzzlement:
"This is…?"
Lin Yang held the jade slip out toward him, his voice returning to its earlier evenness:
"Did you find Yang Tianming's speed yesterday to be almost unbelievably fast?"
Chen Yang recalled that figure that had appeared at his side like a phantom, and that palm strike whose trajectory he had been utterly unable to track. He nodded, a lingering chill in his heart:
"Indeed. Fast enough that… it didn't seem like the Qi Refinement Realm."
Lin Yang explained:
"That is called the 'Roaming Dragon Steps' — a secret movement technique passed down within Yang Tianming's clan, quite extraordinary. Of course, Yang Tianming has yet to reach Foundation Establishment, so what he has learned is only the surface of it. He hasn't even managed to bring out one-tenth of this technique's true power."
Chen Yang's heart jolted. Just the surface, and it was already that fast?
What kind of terrifying speed would the complete Roaming Dragon Steps produce?
He couldn't help glancing at the jade slip in Lin Yang's hand, hesitating:
"Then this… is?"
Lin Yang extended the jade slip a little further, his tone carrying an air that brooked no argument:
"Don't ask what the movement technique recorded in this jade slip is called. Just take it and train diligently. I guarantee that once you've mastered it, your speed will be no less than Yang Tianming's half-baked Roaming Dragon Steps!"
Chen Yang took the jade slip with cautious uncertainty. It was cool to the touch, and he could sense the obscure information contained within.
He truly found it hard to believe that Lin Yang would be so generous as to casually gift him a movement technique on par with the Yang clan's secret art.
Was there some scheme hidden behind this as well?
He was about to open his mouth to press further, to clarify the jade slip's origins and Lin Yang's true intentions.
But the moment Chen Yang took the jade slip, Lin Yang simply turned around, putting his back to him, gave a casual wave of his hand, and let his words drift back on the wind:
"Brother Chen, make good use of your time and train hard. In a few days, I'll come back to check on your progress."
His footsteps did not slow, and his voice continued to carry back:
"Also, get that ear of yours treated soon. If you can't manage it yourself, come find me at Qin Valley — I may have a way. Next time you speak with someone, don't go slanting your eyes like that. It's really… quite off-putting."
With those words, Lin Yang's figure drifted out of the courtyard and vanished at the far end of the path beyond the gate.
Chen Yang stood in place, gripping the jade slip that still carried a faint warmth from Lin Yang's fingertips, his brow slightly furrowed, lost in thought.
Suddenly.
He slapped himself on the forehead, a look of vexation crossing his face:
"Damn! I forgot to ask him for the jade vial!"
He was referring, of course, to the transparent jade vial Lin Yang had used to collect the golden flame.
That flame had destroyed his loft and cost him nearly three thousand low-grade spirit stones — an enormous price to pay.
But no matter how one looked at it, it was something he had duplicated at tremendous cost, and Lin Yang had quietly walked off with it without a word. He couldn't help feeling like he'd gotten the short end of the deal.
"Looks like I'll have to wait for a chance in the future to get it back from him…"
Chen Yang let out a helpless sigh and turned his gaze back to the jade slip in his hand.
The Sect Master's Personal Disciple Trial. Yang Tianming…
A sense of urgency welled up within him.
* * *
On the other side.
Lin Yang walked out of Chen Yang's devastated courtyard and did not head directly back to his residence in Qin Valley. Instead, he turned his steps and strolled leisurely in the direction of Jade Bamboo Peak.
Along the way.
He took out the transparent jade vial once more.
Inside the vial.
That small cluster of golden flame continued to leap and dance with lively energy, radiating a warm and brilliant light that rendered the walls of the vial completely translucent.
Held in the palm of his hand, it was as though he were cradling a tiny sun, dispersing the slight chill of the valley breeze, even giving off a pleasantly warm and comfortable sensation.
"This flame… just what is its origin?"
Lin Yang furrowed his brow slightly, studying the flame inside the vial with eyes full of curiosity and puzzlement:
"Its quality is so pure, its energy so restrained yet vast — and yet it carries a kind of… ancient, scorching quality I have never felt before…"
He murmured to himself. Broad as his knowledge was, he could not identify the flame's origins at all.
He only felt that this flame was quite extraordinary — rather interesting to hold and examine.
Without realizing it.
He had arrived at the foot of Jade Bamboo Peak. Not far ahead stood the elegant little building where Zhao Yanran resided.
Lin Yang's footsteps paused for a brief moment.
Just then.
A crow — its body entirely dark grey-black, with only its eyes a deep crimson — glided silently down from the shadow of a large tree nearby and landed lightly on his shoulder.
Lin Yang's gaze remained fixed on the jade vial of flame in his hand, but his lips moved almost imperceptibly, as though issuing some silent command to the crow on his shoulder.
The crow tilted its head, a glimmer of intelligence flashing through its crimson eyes.
Then it spread its wings and took flight.
Like a streak of dark grey lightning, it shot silently toward Zhao Yanran's building and in an instant slipped through the gap of a slightly open window.
At that very moment.
Inside the building.
Zhao Yanran sat alone in her meditation chamber on a meditation cushion, eyes closed in quiet breathing exercises.
The events of the previous day in the plaza — especially Chen Yang's merciless punch that had sought to end her life — had dealt her a tremendous shock and blow.
She could never have imagined that the Chen Yang who had once obeyed her every word, who had never spoken a harsh word to her, could become so cold and ruthless.
Every time the memory surfaced, a dull ache rose in her heart, tangled with fear, resentment, and an indescribable sense of loss.
Only by immersing herself in the circulation of the Jade Ripple Art, feeling spiritual energy flow through her meridians, could she bring her turbulent thoughts to some semblance of calm.
And yet.
Just as her mind had barely sunk into the state of cultivation…
A faint grey light flashed past her like a phantom!
Zhao Yanran didn't even have time to register what had happened. She only felt the fabric at her chest being yanked with extreme speed by something, sending a brief tugging sensation through her.
She let out an instinctive cry of alarm, snapped her eyes open, and wrapped both arms around her chest, looking around in startled confusion:
"What's going on? What just happened?!"
She looked down at her chest, and in the next instant, her face drained to a deathly pale. Her eyes filled with disbelieving horror and mortified outrage as she cried out:
"How… how is it gone?! The things inside…!"
Outside the building.
Lin Yang still stood where he was, idly turning the jade vial of flame over in his hand.
Suddenly.
A dark shadow flashed.
The crow returned from its errand.
Like a messenger having completed its task, it landed on his shoulder once more.
And clutched in that crow's sharp beak were two large folded pieces of fabric — flesh-toned silk!
Lin Yang's gaze shifted from the jade vial of flame to the silk in the crow's beak, and his expression froze for a moment.
He extended two fingers and carefully retrieved the silk from the crow's beak, unfolding it to take a look.
The silk was soft to the touch, cut with precise tailoring, and inside it appeared to be stuffed with some kind of fluffy material…
Lin Yang's expression instantly became extraordinarily peculiar — a complex mixture of astonishment, dawning comprehension, and a trace of… utterly indescribable absurdity.
He blinked.
Looking at this "irrefutable evidence" in his hand, he muttered under his breath, his tone carrying the air of someone who had uncovered a world-shaking secret yet found it entirely speechless:
"It really… really is stuffed…"
He paused, seeming to find it both somewhat funny and somewhat exasperating, and finally gave a slight shake of his head, muttering under his breath:
"This… isn't this cheating?"