"Hello, parent. I'm your child's math teacher. He just won first prize in the city-level Olympiad."

  "Mm, got it. I'll have him quit the Olympiad class tomorrow."

  "But... why? He barely studied for it and still won first prize. He's a genius—you should nurture this talent."

  "Genius doesn't need nurturing, and it doesn't need to prove itself. The name of 'genius' is the heaviest shackle in this world. I just want him to live happily, without a care."

  Dawn broke, and all things stirred.

  At the Qingfeng Valley training grounds, the inner disciples of the Qingfeng Sect were doing their morning drills.

  Morning drills—politely put, they were practicing forms. To put it bluntly, they were just flaunting flowery moves.

  The disciples moved in unison, energetic and fierce.

  But if a real fight broke out, they'd all be throwing wild punches.

  Qingfeng Sect divided its disciples into inner and outer.

  Inner disciples came from powerful local clans—they had money and influence.

  They focused solely on training, ignoring sect chores.

  Outer disciples were talented kids from humble families.

  Besides training, they handled laundry, cooking, serving tea, even concocting pills and repairing buildings.

  There was one exception: Lin Lin.

  Lin Lin was once a disciple of the previous sect leader.

  When the current leader, Liu Fenghai, seized power, he killed the old leader, the elders, and every promising disciple.

  Only Lin Lin came back from the dead. The leader kept him as an outer disciple.

  Later, because he was good at pill-making and even better at sucking up, he got promoted to head disciple in charge of chores.

  This role put him in charge of all outer disciples and the sect's daily logistics.

  Though powerful on paper, he was despised by everyone.

  First, he was disfigured.

  Once, as an outer disciple, the food he served was cold.

  The leader's daughter, Liu Daiyan, flew into a rage. She struck him with her sword, "Misty Willow Bridge."

  The blade slashed across his face, tearing it to shreds.

  Another time, a small mistake happened in the pill refinery.

  When Lin Lin reported it, Liu Fenghai was so angry he shoved Lin Lin's head into a hotpot.

  Add constant beatings from other elders for the slightest reason, and Lin Lin became a mess—face grotesque, walking with a cane.

  Ugly and limping—just looking at him ruined your appetite.

  Second, Lin Lin was pathetically obsequious.

  Anyone else would've killed themselves after such torture.

  Not him. He'd wag his tail, grinning, saying the leader was just strict because he cared.

  Every time he met the leader, he'd smile greasily and spew flattery.

  Liu Daiyan called him a dog, a pig.

  He'd get on all fours and bark, then lie on his back and oink.

  It made Liu Daiyan laugh heartily, and she accepted this groveling servant.

  Inner disciples, from noble families, would never stoop so low.

  Outer disciples, chosen for talent, believed in their own strength and looked down on sycophants.

  So Lin Lin should've been at the very bottom.

  Yet now, no disciple dared provoke him.

  Earlier, the hot-tempered youngest son of the Ling family publicly called Lin Lin the leader's lapdog.

  That very night, Liu Fenghai gathered all disciples and made the Ling boy kneel in the training ground.

  Everyone remembered Liu Fenghai's eerie, fake smile and his sarcastic retort.

  "You say your senior brother Lin is my dog. Then what are you?"

  Since ancient times, the poor studied, the rich practiced martial arts. The Ling family, wealthy for three generations, had some pride.

  The boy knelt for half an hour, refusing to bow.

  Liu Fenghai snorted and walked back to his room.

  The next day, the Ling boy vanished. The Ling family never recovered.

  In cultivation, those who come first, rule.

  Early cultivators monopolize resources.

  Later ones can only scavenge scraps.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  Liu Fenghai, as sect leader, controlled most resources.

  If the Ling boy called Lin Lin the leader's dog, what did that make the Ling family?

  In this world, people are but weeds.

  To these disciples, Liu Fenghai, a Foundation Establishment cultivator, was a god.

  Even a dog like Lin Lin wasn't someone they could look down on.

  So when Lin Lin hobbled into the training ground, cane tapping, the disciples, despite their disgust, respectfully greeted him: "Greetings, Senior Brother Lin."

  Lin Lin tapped his cane. "Listen up. The leader and elders are about to go into secluded cultivation. Do your duties. No disturbing them unless it's urgent."

  "Yes!" they chorused.

  "Remember: the leader's cave is off-limits. Approach without permission, face sect punishment. Dismissed."

  The inner disciples scattered to amuse themselves.

  These young men had arrived full of ambition, dreaming of immortality and bringing glory to their families.

  A few months at Qingfeng Sect, and they'd slacked off.

  Gambling, playing cards, sightseeing.

  Not that you could blame them. Liu Fenghai and the elders were volatile and heavy-handed.

  A wrong word meant a beating—or a fatal blow.

  Ambitious disciples had been injured or killed.

  The rest either studied in secret, seeking forbidden techniques, or simply gave up.

  Liu Fenghai didn't care. Teaching a disciple to surpass you was asking for trouble.

  Then Qingfeng Sect might not stay in the Liu family.

  Cultivation was about resources. Every new master meant more competition.

  Seeing his juniors so useless, Lin Lin nodded, satisfied.

  Then he hobbled toward the pill furnace room.

  Leaving the training ground, he spotted Liu Yueyan and her maid heading out.

  Liu Yueyan was seventeen, just blooming.

  Slender, pretty, almost a fairy's likeness.

  Two years ago, at the Immortal Sect Gathering, everyone praised her beauty.

  The Qi family of Spirit Sword Sect was so smitten they arranged a marriage on the spot.

  But if they knew her violent temper, they might reconsider.

  Lin Lin lowered his head, covering his face. "Young Miss, off to Jiangrong City?"

  Liu Yueyan glanced at him with contempt. "Sharp ears on this dog. What, you want to supervise my fun?"

  "Not at all. Just saying the leader's going into seclusion. If you need anything, just send word."

  "Hmph, you're a clever servant."

  She spat on his hair. "There, a gift from your slave owner."

  Lin Lin showed no anger, no sadness. He kowtowed. "This dog thanks the Young Miss."

  Liu Yueyan smirked and walked off with her maid. "Ugh, what a disgusting wretch. But if he's gone, who'll amuse me?"

  Watching her leave, a flicker of killing intent crossed Lin Lin's eyes.

  Three years. Three years since he'd crossed into this world.

  When he first woke in Lin Lin's body, Liu Fenghai had just killed the old leader and seized power.

  Then he'd slaughtered every disciple with potential.

  Lin Lin and the others were wrapped in mats, destined for a mass grave outside Qingfeng Valley.

  Some inner disciples even urinated on the bodies.

  When Lin Lin woke, they fled in terror.

  Liu Fenghai, realizing he'd killed too many, spared Lin Lin's life.

  But perhaps a slave is needed to balance the power of the sects

  Three years of survival, of inhuman torture and humiliation.

  But it was okay.

  More importantly, genius needs no proof.

  So what if Liu Yueyan was a cultivation prodigy, reaching Foundation Establishment at sixteen?

  Could she solve a quadratic equation? Understand physics?

  A bunch of semi-literate cultivators, thinking they were superior?

  No need to prove anything. In Lin Lin's eyes, they were nothing!

  He didn't just despise the Liu family—he wanted revenge on the entire cultivation world!

  "Liu Yueyan, when you come back, Qingfeng Sect will be mine. And you'll be nothing but my experiment."

  Lin Lin chuckled softly, tapped his cane, and headed cheerfully toward the pill refinery.