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An Ran was currently communicating with headquarters through the system, outwardly appearing as though he was meditating with his eyes closed. Hearing noise outside the door, he slowly opened his elegant, phoenix-shaped eyes.
He saw Zhuang Mingyuan leading a group of disciples through the door. Without a word, they all dropped to their knees.
“Master, please uphold justice for your disciples!”
An Ran noticed their unusual behavior and apparent injuries, and couldn’t help feeling confused. Upon questioning them, he found they were here to lodge a complaint.
Xu Wenmin added fuel to the fire, accusing Xia Chenyu of secretly practicing forbidden demonic techniques and injuring the others.
An Ran sighed and massaged the acupoint between his brows. “Where is Xia Chenyu?”
Before the others could reply, someone walked in from outside.
The young man’s forehead was streaked with fresh blood, which had flowed down past the corner of his eye and jaw. His clothes were torn in several places, exposing bruises and cuts. He was limping slightly, clearly suppressing his pain.
Seeing the boy in such a state, An Ran was momentarily stunned, and then anger welled up inside him. They beat him up this badly and had the audacity to complain first?
But before acting on his anger, he forced himself to calm down.
Wasn’t this the outcome he’d been aiming for?
For the past two years, the other disciples had often bullied Xia Chenyu under various pretexts, and An Ran had turned a blind eye. As the master of Lingyun Peak, his tacit approval only emboldened the others, and their behavior had grown more blatant recently.
But only through this suffering could the altered timeline be corrected—Xia Chenyu had to endure torment to forge the darkness within his heart.
Without a word, Xia Chenyu knelt on both knees.
It seemed the boy had already mentally prepared for this. An Ran took a deep breath and braced himself emotionally before speaking coldly, “Your fellow disciples accuse you of practicing forbidden techniques and attacking them. What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I did not,” Xia Chenyu replied, enunciating each word firmly.
Just as expected. An Ran recalled when he first took the boy in—his eyes had been filled with admiration for his master and eager anticipation for cultivation. But now, the 14-year-old’s gaze was icy and sharp.
A flicker of guilt passed through An Ran’s heart but was quickly buried.
“Then how do you explain their injuries?”
“I don’t know,” Xia Chenyu replied, his tone still cold but steady.
“Lies!” Xu Wenmin shouted. “It was clearly you!”
An Ran had finally had enough. What kind of monsters had he enabled? He couldn’t let this continue, or he’d ruin all the children.
With a hint of anger, he warned Xu Wenmin, “Did I give you permission to speak?”
Xu Wenmin hadn’t expected their usually indulgent master to reprimand him. Stunned, he lowered his head and said, “I was wrong, Master.”
An Ran examined everyone’s injuries one by one. Xia Chenyu’s were obvious—clearly beaten by the others.
But the others’ injuries were strange. They seemed like surface bruises, but a slight touch made them wince in pain or double over.
These were internal injuries caused by spiritual energy attacks—light ones, but far beyond what Xia Chenyu’s cultivation level should be capable of.
“Did anyone else witness this?”
Everyone shook their heads.
An Ran sighed lightly and asked, “Who struck first?”
They all pointed at Xia Chenyu, who didn’t refute them. He simply looked at An Ran with unwavering eyes.
Not even trying to explain… An Ran felt helpless.
“In that case, you’re to reflect in seclusion for three days,” he announced. Then, turning to the others: “You ganged up on one person. Copy The Classic of the Southern Flower thirty times and submit it in three days.”
A chorus of wailing followed. “Master, you’re being biased…”
“One more word and I’ll add ten more copies.” His tone brooked no argument, and they fell silent.
Xia Chenyu stared at An Ran in disbelief.
Even after the others left, he remained kneeling.
An Ran calmly asked, “Is there something else?”
“Master, your disciple has a question and seeks your guidance.”
“Speak.”
After a moment’s pause, as if gathering his courage, Xia Chenyu said, “You’ve always taught us that persistence is key to cultivation. But after two years, I’ve made no progress at all. Master, do you know why?”
So, the boy was starting to question things. An Ran pondered his response when he heard:
“Is the cultivation method Master gave me truly suitable for me?”
A fourteen-year-old with thoughts this meticulous? Too sharp for his age…
“Who told you to say this?”
Xia Chenyu flinched slightly, then composed himself and answered, “No one.”
That small hesitation didn’t escape An Ran’s sharp gaze. He stepped closer and looked directly at the boy. “Tell me the truth, I won’t blame you.”
The boy’s pupils clearly trembled but soon resolutely repeated, “No one told me.”
That expression said everything. An Ran knew he wouldn’t get an answer by pressing. He waved his hand, “Enough. Just know that I have plans for you. Don’t overthink it.”
A translucent blue spirit butterfly silently rested on Xia Chenyu’s right shoulder, its wings fluttering gently before fading away.
Xia Chenyu didn’t notice. He headed alone to a cave at the mountain’s base and softly called, “Senior.”
No response came from inside, but he kept speaking.
“Thanks for your help today.”
“…Yes, I believe you now.”
In his chamber, An Ran was using a tracking spell and felt confused. Who is he talking to? Did someone cast a spell so that only he can hear them?
Suddenly, Xia Chenyu’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Senior, are you serious?”
After another silence, he nodded, took out the cultivation manual, flipped through it briefly, then sat cross-legged and began to practice.
An Ran was baffled. He doubted the manual—why is he still using it?
Through the spirit butterfly—his soul projection—An Ran could sense that Xia Chenyu’s spiritual flow had completely changed.
What’s going on? If only his true body were present—then he could use divine sight to find out who was hiding.
Time passed, and An Ran felt the boy’s spiritual energy rapidly increasing, seemingly about to break through a bottleneck.
Two years of suppressed cultivation was now about to surge forth.
Xia Chenyu paused his practice, opened his eyes, and said excitedly, “Senior, you were right!”
“…Yes, I’ll remember it.”
Then, as if hearing something, Xia Chenyu’s brows suddenly furrowed. “Who’s there?!”
A blinding light struck the spirit butterfly, shattering it.
An Ran was suddenly hit with dizziness as his soul projection snapped back. He rubbed his temples, grimacing.
Just who is the person hiding in the shadows?
After cultivating in the cave for an entire day, Xia Chenyu headed back. On the way, he stopped and sneered coldly, “You again? Haven’t you had enough?”
A few disciples surrounded him. Zhuang Mingyuan shouted, “You were ordered to stay in seclusion for three days! You defied Master’s orders—come with us to be punished!”
Still fuming over copying scriptures, they were eager for someone to take it out on.
“What if I refuse?”
“Then we’ll teach you a lesson in Master’s stead!” Zhuang Mingyuan moved to strike, but Xu Wenmin stopped him.
“Senior brother, be careful—he might use tricks.”
Recalling their last defeat, the others stayed back, wary.
Xia Chenyu cracked his knuckles and sneered, “All of you come at once. Good chance for me to train.”
He was itching to try the technique he’d just learned.
Zhuang Mingyuan, hot-tempered as ever, charged in with a punch.
The two fought fiercely while the others shouted encouragement.
But soon, Zhuang was clearly losing.
After a punch to the stomach, he stumbled back several steps, clutching his gut. “Impossible…”
To be defeated so easily by someone they once considered trash—it was unthinkable.
Xu Wenmin helped him up. “He’s using some evil technique—don’t fall for it!”
Xia Chenyu coldly glanced at Xu Wenmin and said nothing. Suddenly, a burst of spiritual energy surged from him, leaving everyone stunned.
“T-this is Foundation Establishment-level energy!”
“He was still at the early Qi stage yesterday!”
They were all horrified. Advancing three stages in a day—none of them could match him now.
Xia Chenyu smirked. “Anyone else want to try?”
“You…” Xu Wenmin knew he couldn’t win and resorted to threats. “You violated the seclusion order and practiced forbidden arts—just wait till Master hears about this!”
“No need—I’ll tell him myself.”
With that, Xia Chenyu turned and left, leaving the others in stunned silence.
An Ran had been nursing a headache all day after his soul projection was destroyed. Just as he was finally recovering, in walked the source of his trouble.
He sighed. “What is it now?”
The boy didn’t speak. He knelt suddenly and knocked his head on the floor three times—startling An Ran.
Has the sun risen from the west?
“Your disciple was ignorant and misunderstood your intentions. I was wrong!”
An Ran’s jaw nearly hit the floor.
Did he hallucinate from too much pressure? What noble intentions? You mean my intention to suppress you?
Seeing An Ran’s bewildered expression, Xia Chenyu continued, “I was arrogant and thought you didn’t care about me, even…”
He paused, then added, “Even suspected that the manual you gave me was flawed.”
It is flawed. Extremely flawed.
“Now I understand—you were worried I’d progress too quickly and build on a shaky foundation.”
An Ran was even more confused. “Wait a second—”
Looking into those star-like eyes full of admiration, An Ran held his forehead. “How… how did you come to this conclusion…”
Xia Chenyu beamed. “By chance, I changed my cultivation method and realized I hadn’t made no progress. The spiritual energy had been sealed in the Taichong meridian. By focusing on breaking through the Youmen point during practice, the sealed energy surged out—”
“Enough.” An Ran cut him off.
Clearly, someone had taught him how to undo the seal. An Ran had hoped to suppress his progress using that flawed manual—but that plan was now ruined.
Clearing his throat, An Ran said, “Good… as long as you understand.”
Seeing the boy now acting like the model disciple from two years ago, An Ran nearly fainted.
You’re supposed to be a Demon Lord! Where’s your dark, seductive aura?
He sighed deeply. “Alright, leave now.”
He couldn’t bear to look at the boy any longer. Just seeing him gave him a headache.
But Xia Chenyu remained unmoving. “Master, there’s one more thing.”
Leaning against his couch, An Ran rubbed his temple. “Speak.”
Please, speak quickly and leave.
“I violated the seclusion order. Please punish me.”
Another kowtow.
An Ran was too tired to come up with new punishments. “Then seclusion for another month. Go.”
Anyone else would’ve wailed in misery. But Xia Chenyu beamed with joy, bowed deeply, and left.
An Ran felt murderous.
Two years of planning, all wasted in a day. I have to find the mastermind. How else am I supposed to finish this world’s mission?!