Liu Chen crouched in the dense undergrowth on the slopes of Malling Mountain, his nerves fraying with each passing hour. One week of rotating surveillance shifts had worn down his team's morale. One week since they'd arrived to watch the cave where the Lin Patriarch had sequestered his third son three months ago, sealed behind arrays that glowed ominously in the night. One week of watching, waiting, and wondering what was happening inside.
The weight of responsibility pressed down on him heavier than the jade token in his pocket—half payment received, half upon completion of a task that seemed increasingly impossible with each passing day.
Three days since the Patriarch left, he thought grimly, scanning the seemingly abandoned cave entrance. Three days without a single movement.
Behind him, spread carefully through the rocky terrain, his twelve-man team maintained their positions with practiced discipline. All First Realm warrior cultivators, with Liu Chen himself approaching the Peak of First Realm cultivation—fighters he had personally selected from the ranks of the Black Crane Mercenary Group. Men and women who had followed him through countless dangerous missions.
Men and women he might be leading to their deaths.
"Senior Liu," came a whispered voice from his right. Fang Mei, his most trusted lieutenant, slid silently into position beside him. "The men are growing restless. Perhaps our intelligence was wrong?"
Liu Chen shook his head, fighting off doubt. "The information came from too high a source to be incorrect. The Lin Patriarch left three days ago—I saw him with my own eyes."
The memory sent an involuntary shiver down his spine. As the Patriarch had departed the mountain, he had paused, turning his head slightly toward their hidden position. A smile had touched the old man's lips, so brief Liu Chen had almost believed he'd imagined it.
But that smile had haunted him for three days now.
He knew we were here. He looked directly at our position and smiled.
Liu Chen hadn't shared this detail with his team. What good would it do? They needed the payment too desperately to abandon the mission. Black Crane Mercenaries had suffered severe losses in their last contract against the Spirit Beasts of the Northern Wastes. This mission would replenish their coffers and allow them to care for the families of those who hadn't returned.
"The Celestial Dragon Inner Sect Academy begins in five days," Liu Chen reminded Fang Mei. "He has to emerge eventually. And when he does..." He left the sentence unfinished.
Fang Mei's eyes hardened. "We'll complete the contract."
Liu Chen nodded, though the unease didn't leave him. First Realm warrior cultivators with myself nearly at Peak should be enough to handle one young clan member, even from the Lin family. Surely.
But if the Patriarch knew of their presence and still left his son...
The first sign came not as movement, but as a change in the air itself.
A sudden pressure descended upon the mountain, subtle but unmistakable. The birds fell silent. The constant rustle of leaves stilled as though the very wind held its breath. Even the insects ceased their endless chirping.
"Something's happening," Fang Mei whispered, her hand moving instinctively to her sword hilt.
Liu Chen raised a hand for silence, every sense straining toward the cave entrance. The glowing arrays that had sealed the cave for three months began to pulse rhythmically, their blue-white light intensifying with each beat. The air around the entrance shimmered like heat rising from summer stones.
Then, a sound—low and resonant—emerged from the darkness within. Not a voice, but something more primal. A vibration that seemed to resonate with the mountain itself.
The arrays flashed once, blindingly bright, before shattering like glass. Fragments of spiritual energy scattered like luminous snowflakes, dissolving into the air.
Silence followed. Complete and absolute.
Liu Chen signaled his team to ready themselves, drawing his own sword with practiced caution. The tension was unbearable, stretching each second into an eternity.
When movement finally came, it was not the confident stride of a young master emerging triumphant. Instead, a silhouette appeared in the cave mouth, hunched and unsteady. A figure that seemed to struggle with each step, leaning heavily against the stone wall for support.
The young man who stumbled into the daylight looked nothing like the young master they'd expected.
His robes—once fine silk by the look of the remaining fabric—hung in tatters around a frame that seemed simultaneously frail and wiry. Long, unkempt hair fell well past his shoulders, partially obscuring a face that hadn't seen a razor in months. In his right hand, he clutched what appeared to be nothing more than a plain wooden practice sword.
Most disconcerting of all, Liu Chen could sense nothing from him. No spiritual pressure, no cultivation energy. Nothing that would mark him as the son of one of the most powerful cultivators in the region.
The youth took three unsteady steps forward before collapsing to his knees. His head tilted back, eyes closed, as he drew in a deep, shuddering breath.
Lin Tian opened his eyes slowly, as if the sunlight was painful after months in darkness. Each ray felt like a physical touch against skin that had known only the damp chill of cave air. The mountain breeze carried scents so complex and numerous they overwhelmed his heightened senses—soil and pine, distant flowers, the mustiness of autumn leaves.
Three months, he thought, his mind replaying fragments of the ordeal in flashes of memory—standing beneath freezing waterfalls until his limbs went numb; running endless circuits through stone tunnels with boulders strapped to his back; performing sword forms until his muscles tore and healed and tore again; meditation sessions where the slightest loss of concentration earned him a strike of purified lightning.
"You will break," the Patriarch had told him on the first day. "Everything you are must be destroyed before you can be rebuilt."
And break he had. Over and over again.
Lin Tian's fingers dug into the soil beneath him, feeling each granule, each minute variation in texture. His senses, honed through endless trials, perceived the world with a clarity that was almost painful in its intensity.
He sensed the watching eyes—thirteen cultivators hidden among the trees and rocks. He could smell their sweat, hear the subtle whisper of their breath, feel the vibrations of their heartbeats through the earth.
But for this moment, none of that mattered.
What mattered was the scent that reached him—sweet, tantalizing, impossibly perfect. His eyes snapped open, focusing with laser precision on a wild berry bush growing not twenty paces from where he knelt.
Something primal awakened within him. Three months of bitter herbs and cultivation pills. Three months without a single morsel that could be called food.
Lin Tian moved, not with the calculated grace his training should have instilled, but with the desperate urgency of a starving man. He scrambled toward the bush on hands and knees, dignity forgotten, mouth already watering in anticipation.
The first berry burst against his tongue with an explosion of flavor so intense it brought tears to his eyes.
"HOLY SHIT! FOOD! ACTUAL FOOD!" he exclaimed, the volume of his voice startling birds from nearby trees. "That bastard made me eat nothing but cultivation pills and bitter herbs for three months! Ohhh gods, these taste so GOOD!"
Through his communication talisman, Liu Chen heard confused messages flow among his team:
"Is this really our target?"
"Perhaps a decoy?"
"He seems... unwell."
Liu Chen frowned, signaling for silence. He watched as the youth continued his berry feast with single-minded devotion, occasionally letting out moans that made some of his team shift uncomfortably.
"So sweet! So juicy! Real food at last!" The young man was practically weeping over berries.
"Maintain positions," Liu Chen ordered softly through the talisman. "This could be deception."
Years of experience had taught him that appearances could be fatally misleading in the cultivation world. The fact that he couldn't sense any cultivation energy from the target was concerning rather than reassuring. Either the boy truly was weak, or he possessed concealment techniques far beyond what should be possible for his age.
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Liu Chen gave the signal. Three archers positioned in the trees nocked their arrows, each tipped with a specialized poison designed to disrupt qi channels. Even if the youth was somehow concealing immense power, the toxin would create enough disruption for them to finish the job.
As one, the archers infused their arrows with qi and loosed.
Six poison-tipped arrows whistled through the air, approaching the still-feasting youth from angles calculated to be impossible to evade completely.
The youth looked up, berry juice staining his lips. "Huh?"
What happened next made Liu Chen's blood run cold.
Without seeming to move—without even changing his casual seated position—the youth somehow caused all six arrows to clatter harmlessly to the ground around him. It wasn't deflection. It wasn't dodging. It was as if the arrows simply lost their will to continue.
And then, he vanished.
"Formation three!" Liu Chen hissed into the talisman, drawing his sword. "He's moving!"
Twelve seasoned cultivators immediately formed a defensive circle, backs to one another, senses extended to their limits. But none could detect any sign of their target.
"Behind you!"
Liu Chen spun around so quickly he nearly lost his balance. There stood the youth, not five paces away, wooden sword pointed casually in his direction. Up close, Liu Chen could see hints of a handsome face beneath the wild hair and stubble. Despite the disheveled appearance, the young man's eyes were unnervingly sharp and focused.
And now, standing so close, Liu Chen could finally sense it—a spiritual pressure that made his skin crawl. Not just Peak Realm. Something that felt deeper, more refined, controlled with precision he'd only felt from masters decades older.
"Oi, who the hell are you people?" the youth asked, seeming more irritated than threatened. "I'm trying to enjoy my first real meal in months here."
Liu Chen swallowed hard, maintaining his combat stance as his team quickly surrounded the target. "Surrender now," he commanded, hoping his voice didn't betray his growing dread.
The youth sighed dramatically, then used his wooden sword to casually scratch his back. "Look, I'm really not in the mood for this. I just spent three months getting tortured by a sadistic old man. I haven't had a proper bath in weeks. And I was in the middle of my first real meal." He gestured with his free hand to the scattered berries. "Can we not do this today?"
"This isn't a negotiation," Liu Chen stated, though his conviction was rapidly fading.
"Clearly," the youth replied with a shrug. Then, without warning, he disappeared again—only to reappear instantaneously in the center of their formation, still holding a handful of berries which he popped into his mouth.
The casual display of speed sent panic through Liu Chen's team. He could feel their confidence wavering.
"So who sent you?" the youth asked through a mouthful of berries. "Someone from the sects? Outside enemies?"
Liu Chen signaled the attack. Six of his men converged on the youth simultaneously, weapons infused with their strongest combat techniques.
In the next instant, all six were sprawled on the ground, groaning. The youth hadn't appeared to move—he was still chewing berries, the wooden sword hanging loosely at his side.
"That's rather rude," he commented. "I asked a simple question."
"Now!" Liu Chen commanded, and his remaining fighters launched a coordinated assault, each attacking from a different angle.
The youth sighed. He swung his wooden sword against the air once.
A wave of pure force radiated outward, knocking everyone off their feet. This time, Liu Chen felt it clearly—cultivation power at Peak Realm, controlled with frightening precision.
"I'm not really in the mood to take a life," the youth said, suddenly standing over Liu Chen though he hadn't seen him move. "But I will if necessary." His voice had lost all its previous lightness. "Tell me who sent you."
Liu Chen's remaining fighters struggled to rise, but seemed unable to move. The youth's spiritual pressure had intensified, pressing down on them like a physical weight. Though he was only at Peak Realm like Liu Chen was approaching, the quality and density of his cultivation power was on another level entirely—like comparing crude iron to the finest steel.
One of the braver fighters spat, "We'll tell you nothing, Lin dog!"
The youth—Lin Tian, Liu Chen reminded himself—turned his gaze to the speaker. The pressure of his spiritual pressure intensified so dramatically that several men gasped for breath.
"Tell me who sent you," Lin Tian repeated, looking directly into Liu Chen's eyes now. The pressure was becoming unbearable.
"L-Lin," Liu Chen gasped out, terrified for his team's lives. "The order came from within the Lin clan."
Lin Tian raised an eyebrow, the pressure easing slightly. "What?"
"It's the truth!" Liu Chen insisted, gulping air. "We received payment through intermediaries, but the original commission came from within your own clan!"
Lin Tian lowered his wooden sword, his expression thoughtful. "Sigh... I was expecting it, but not this quickly."
The pressure continued to decrease until Liu Chen could sit up. "What do you mean?"
"You don't understand, do you?" Lin Tian asked, shaking his head. "Think about it. The timing of the information about the Patriarch leaving. The specific details of where I was. Sending you with improper intelligence about my cultivation level." He gestured around at the fallen mercenaries. "Don't you get it? You were never meant to succeed."
Liu Chen's blood ran cold as realization dawned. "We were... a test?"
"Most likely," Lin Tian agreed, scanning the area with narrowed eyes. "A way to gauge how much I've grown. The real question is who within the clan wanted this information badly enough to spend resources on it."
Lin Tian's posture suddenly changed. His casual demeanor vanished as his head snapped toward a distant ridge, eyes narrowed in concentration. The wooden sword in his hand shifted to a defensive position almost instinctively.
"Gotcha," he murmured, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
Liu Chen followed his gaze but saw nothing beyond the forested ridge in the distance. "What is it?"
Lin Tian didn't answer immediately. His eyes tracked something invisible to the others, following a presence only he could detect. "Someone's been watching us this whole time," he finally said. "A cultivator... at least Peak Realm, maybe higher."
As they watched, a faint shimmer appeared on the distant ridge—like heat rising from stone on a summer day. The shimmer coalesced briefly into a humanoid shape, a figure in dark robes who seemed to lock eyes with Lin Tian across the distance.
For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Then the figure offered what appeared to be a respectful nod before dissolving into a wisp of shadow that vanished among the trees.
"Who was that?" Liu Chen asked, unable to hide the tremor in his voice.
Lin Tian's expression was unreadable. "Someone from the clan, most likely. Reporting back on how their little experiment went." He twirled the wooden sword once before returning it to a relaxed position. "Looks like I passed."
"Are you going after them?" Liu Chen asked.
Lin Tian shook his head. "Nah, that's too much work. Besides, the cultivator I sensed was at minimum Peak Realm level like me. It wouldn't be an easy fight, especially after what I've been through. Better to save my strength for the Academy."
He turned back to Liu Chen. "Take your people and leave. You were just pawns in a clan game that's been going on longer than you've been alive." He paused, then added, "And consider yourselves unlucky. Three months ago, I wouldn't have been able to stop those arrows."
Liu Chen slowly got to his feet, signaling his team to retreat. As they gathered their wounded, a question burned in his mind. "What did he do to you in that cave?"
Lin Tian's eyes widened, and for a moment, he looked like he was reliving something horrific. Then he barked out a laugh that held no humor.
"Pain," he said, his voice suddenly animated with a manic energy. "Pure pain! That crazy bastard starved me and forced me to cultivate until I felt like death would have been the merciful option!"
He began pacing, gesturing wildly with the wooden sword. "Do you have any idea what it's like to run through an entire cave system carrying a boulder on your back? Every single day! With only bitter herbs and cultivation pills to sustain you? No real food, no rest, no mercy!"
Liu Chen took an instinctive step back from the intensity of Lin Tian's outburst.
"I had to do ten thousand sword strikes every day without stopping! If I slowed down, he'd add another thousand! At night, he'd make me stand in freezing waterfalls while reciting ancient cultivation texts. If I got a single word wrong—BOOM!—lightning strike! Actual lightning!" Lin Tian's eyes were wide, reliving the memories.
"He tortured my body to forge it stronger," he continued, tapping his chest with the wooden sword. "Every bone broken and reset. Every muscle torn and rebuilt. And when I collapsed from exhaustion? He'd dump a bucket of ice water on me and make me start over!"
Lin Tian drew a deep breath, then seemed to collect himself. "The only thing that kept me going were those damned cultivation pills. God, I hate them now. They taste like dirt mixed with bitter herbs and despair."
Liu Chen stared, horrified and fascinated. "And... this made you stronger?"
"Stronger?" Lin Tian chuckled darkly. "I suppose that's one way to put it. The old man broke me down to nothing, then rebuilt me from the foundation up."
He looked down at his hands. "I can feel the difference. Everything about me has changed." He demonstrated by causing a small swirl of energy to dance across his fingertips.
"The Patriarch... he's not human," Lin Tian concluded, shaking his head. "No human could devise such perfect torture disguised as training."
Liu Chen helped one of his wounded teammates to his feet, considering Lin Tian's words. "The Inner Sect Academy won't know what hit them."
Lin Tian's face grew serious, his eyes suddenly distant. "The Academy is just a means to an end. I only need to become strong enough that no one can control my life anymore. I haven't decided yet, but I want to be left alone. Maybe see the world."
Liu Chen was struck by the change in Lin Tian's expression—for a moment, he could see eyes that were beyond the years of the boy, eyes that reflected a long, deep goal of someone much older and wiser.
"This whole sect and cultivation world is fine for those who want it," Lin Tian continued, his voice softer now. "But my goal is to become strong enough so I can be left alone and live peacefully. No more clan politics, no more schemes, no more being anyone's pawn."
Liu Chen felt a strange respect growing for the young cultivator. "That's... not what I expected from a Lin heir."
Lin Tian's lips quirked in a half-smile. "I'm not what anyone expects. That's the point."
As Liu Chen led his battered team away from Malling Mountain, he couldn't shake the feeling that they had brushed against something far more dangerous than a mere clan heir. Whatever the Lin Patriarch had created in that cave over those three months, Liu Chen was certain of one thing—the cultivation world was about to change.
Lin Tian watched them go, then turned his attention back to the berry bush, falling upon it with renewed enthusiasm.
"Oh sweet heavens, these taste amazing," he moaned, stuffing more berries into his mouth. "You have no idea how good real food tastes after three months of nothing but pills and bitter herbs. NO IDEA!"
A bird watching from a nearby branch took flight, startled by his sudden outburst.
Lin Tian looked up at the sky, berry juice staining his lips and fingers.
"Inner Sect Academy, here I come," he declared to no one in particular. "Just as soon as I find some actual meat. And maybe a bath. Definitely a bath."