Zhen watched as Wang Bo turned and stormed away, his steps heavy with landing with a thud, and the crowd instinctively moved aside, creating a path for him to pass. No one dared to meet his gaze, their eyes fixed firmly on the ground, as if the mere act of looking at him might invite his wrath.

  Even as the pain threatened to overwhelm him, Zhen couldn't help but smirk. So this is the power of the ninth realm… He had stood his ground against a stronger opponent, and in doing so, he had proven something—to Wang Bo, and to the crowd. He had also learned to never get into a fight without fully understanding the stakes and the power of his enemies.

  Another wave of pain surged through his legs, threatening to pull him down, but Zhen resisted. His gaze dropped to his robes—deep blue with intricate silver embroidery was now tattered and stained.

  The shredded fabric at his knees revealed bruised and bloodied skin, a harsh contrast against the once pristine cloth. So much for keeping them clean, he thought wryly, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. These were supposed to make me look respectable, not like I've crawled out of a battlefield.

  Suddenly, a pair of arms steadied him, halting his inevitable collapse. Zhen turned, surprised that someone helped, but instead found He Shan's concerned face.

  "You're hurt," He Shan tried to ease Zhen onto a nearby stone. "Why did you get involved? I could've handled him on my own." He Shan's voice was laced with something that was more frustration than gratitude.

  "With your mortal level cultivation?" Zhen almost rolled his eyes at the disillusioned man. Did you really believe I was taking the heat for you? The thought was almost laughable.

  He Shan's brow furrowed, a flicker of indignation crossing his face. "I'm not helpless, you know."

  "Could've fooled me," Zhen shot back, pulling his arms free from He Shan's grip with a deliberate motion. The forceful tug left no room for misinterpretation, and he quickly distanced himself, both physically and mentally, from the man.

  Zhen noticed He Shan standing there, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles had turned white. There was a tremor in He Shan's stance, a mixture of anger and something else—something that Zhen couldn't quite place.

  For a moment, he felt a pang of something close to sympathy, but he quickly buried it beneath his mask of indifference. That was odd… he didn't know why he would have felt the small sympathy there.

  Without missing a beat, he responded brusquely, "As I said, I didn't do it for you." But as he looked at the frustrated expression on He Shan's face, he was certain the words would go right over his head.

  Great, Zhen mused, irritation bubbling under the surface, now I'm playing the hero in someone else's story. The very idea made his stomach churn.

  He imagined the foolish narrative He Shan might be constructing—two unlikely allies, bound by honor, facing the world together. Yeah, right. As if I'd ever let myself get caught up in that kind of mess.

  Straightening his posture, Zhen winced internally as sharp pain flared through his bruised legs. Maybe staying here a bit longer wouldn't be such a bad idea, he thought grudgingly, finally allowing himself to sit down again on the stone

  His hands fared no better—the skin raw and throbbing, knuckles split from the strain of channeling his qi and fighting Wang Bo's corrosive qi.

  The remnants of his qi still lingered in his meridians, the previous wild surges barely contained within him. The stars within him, which usually glowed with a steady brilliance, were now dimmer, their opaqueness loosening as if the very essence of his power had been drained. He could sense that only ten percent of his qi remained, a dangerously low reserve for someone who might still need to defend himself.

  Zhen closed his eyes and took a slow, measured breath, beginning to guide the small amount of qi he had left through his meridians. The process was delicate, the qi moving like a trickle of water through a cracked channel.

  But as it flowed, even in a simple loop without any purposeful direction, it brought a small measure of relief. The pain that had been gnawing at his insides lessened slightly, a faint numbness replacing the sharper edges of his injuries.

  Maybe this is why cultivators can keep fighting even when they're grievously injured, Zhen thought, letting the qi circulate, slowly mending what it could. It was a bitter comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

  As he continued to focus on the flow, he realized that the qi contained self-healing properties as well, a subtle yet potent force that worked to repair the damage his body had sustained.

  However, the frustrating reality was that he could only let it act passively. Despite the qi's inherent ability to heal, Zhen lacked the advanced control needed to direct it with precision. He couldn't actively channel it to target the worst of his injuries; all he could do was allow it to flow in its natural loop, offering gradual, limited relief.

  But for now, Zhen accepted what little comfort the qi offered, letting it ease his pain as best it could.

  The murmurs of the crowd reached his ears, sharp-edged whispers that cut through his thoughts.

  "Did you see that? Zhen actually stopped Wang Bo!"

  "How is that possible? He was just a nobody before!"

  "Li Zhen… Maybe he's not so weak after all."

  Zhen's jaw tightened as he fought to keep his expression neutral, his irritation rising. He glanced around at the dispersing crowd, noticing the way their eyes lingered on him now—not with disdain, but with a newfound respect, perhaps even fear.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  It was a strange sensation, to be looked at like this, as if he had suddenly become someone worth noticing. Is this what it means to climb higher in this world? Zhen wondered. More attention, more scrutiny, more fights? The thought was as unsettling as the battle had been, if not more so.

  With power came expectations, and with expectations came responsibility—something Zhen had never sought and had no desire to bear.

  As the crowd began to lose interest, turning away and going back to their lives now that the entertainment was over, Zhen felt a flicker of relief. Thank the heavens this show is finally over, he thought, knowing that soon enough, he could leave this place behind.

  He Shan, meanwhile, remained by his side, his presence a constant despite Zhen's cold demeanor. "You're stronger than I thought," He Shan said quietly, more to himself than to Zhen. There was no trace of mockery in his voice, only a genuine acknowledgment of what he had just witnessed.

  Now what? Only you could be strong? Zhen sighed, his irritation ebbing slightly. "I didn't do it for you," he repeated, though the words lacked their previous bite. He couldn't quite understand why He Shan was still here, why he hadn't left like everyone else.

  Was it stubbornness? Zhen wasn't sure, and he didn't have the energy to figure it out.

  His fingers reached into his robes, finding the small strips of white cloth he had taken from the hut earlier. The fabric was rough against his fingertips, but something he could work with. Pulling one out, he began to wrap it around his hands, the motion mechanical, almost meditative.

  As he made the first pass, a grimace crossed his face, the raw skin protesting the contact. The pain was sharp, a reminder of his limits, but it also anchored him, and kept him grounded in the reality of the moment.

  "You should let me help," He Shan offered, stepping closer again.

  "I'm fine," Zhen snapped, though the next pass of the cloth did little to ease the deeper ache. Especially within his meridians, where the qi still swirled, trying to decrease the effect of the previous surges. It's a miracle I'm still standing, he mused, the thought drifting lazily as if his mind, too, was seeking an escape from the pain.

  Ignoring the few remaining onlookers, Zhen couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness. So many acquaintances, but not a single true friend, he thought, bitterness creeping in. Living in a demonic sect is really quite hard.

  His attention shifted back to He Shan, who was still there, battered but unyielding, the only one who hadn't left when the crowd dispersed. Except for this guy, Zhen thought, his eyes narrowing slightly. What did He Shan want from him?

  "You don't have to do this alone, you know," He Shan said softly, as if sensing Zhen's internal struggle.

  For a moment, Zhen felt a strange warmth stir within him—a warmth he couldn't explain. Then the qi completed another loop inside his body, and just as quickly as the strange feeling came, he shoved it aside. "Why do you care?" Zhen's tone was sharper than intended.

  He Shan didn't flinch. "Because I know what it's like to be alone."

  Zhen paused, the words catching him off guard. He glanced at He Shan, really looking at him for the first time. The young man's face was earnest, his eyes reflecting a sincerity that Zhen found disconcerting. He Shan wasn't trying to play the hero, nor was he seeking recognition. He was just… there. Willing to help, even if it wasn't wanted.

  Zhen suddenly snapped back from his thoughts as another loop started, the realization hitting him like a cold splash of water. For a moment there, he had almost accepted He Shan's help, almost let his guard down. Was this the legendary protagonist halo effect? Zhen wondered, his mind racing.

  Or maybe it was just the normal start of a friendship, that elusive, almost mythical bond that only the main characters truly experienced.

  He had heard the tales of how the so-called chosen ones could bend reality around them, drawing others into their orbit, but he had never believed them. Yet here he was, caught in the gravitational pull of He Shan's sincerity, no matter how much he resisted.

  But Zhen knew better than to get caught up in such thoughts. He didn't want to associate himself with this disaster magnet, didn't want to be pulled into whatever mess He Shan would inevitably attract. The thought of being dragged down by someone else's misfortune made his skin crawl.

  Still, as much as he wanted to dismiss He Shan entirely, Zhen couldn't shake the nagging feeling that knowing more about the man might be useful. After all, information was power, and in a world as treacherous as theirs, knowing your allies—and potential liabilities—was crucial.

  They were alone now, no one nearby, as an idea sparked in his mind. He had used the ability on many things—cups, scrolls, kettles, arrays—but never on a person. The situation had developed to this point, so targeting He Shan now didn't seem like a bad idea.

  And the man should be a good subject, Zhen mused, his thoughts turning calculated. From what I've seen, he's more like a righteous fool than a demonic sect member. And with his cultivation currently at rock bottom, this is as low-risk as it gets.

  He considered the young disciple before him, sensing that not only was He Shan a promising target, but testing the ability on someone like him could yield valuable insights, helping Zhen understand the depths of the Sage's Daily Scroll of Heavenly, Earthly, and Mortal Insights—his only edge in this world.

  But there was another factor at play, one that Zhen couldn't ignore. His protagonist role, Zhen thought, a wry smile tugging at his lips. The idea that He Shan might be one of those chosen figures, blessed—or cursed—with an uncanny ability to draw others into their orbit, was both intriguing and concerning

  There was also the possibility that He Shan might sense something when Zhen used the ability on him. But Zhen reasoned that given the favor he had just done for He Shan, the young disciple was unlikely to turn against him so soon. Besides, Zhen thought, I need to know what I'm dealing with. If this really is the protagonist's halo effect, it's better to understand it now than to be blindsided later.

  Despite everything, a part of him couldn't resist the temptation that lay just beneath the surface. Why not? Zhen thought, almost casually. If this is the kind of power I'm dealing with, I need to understand it better. No harm in a little experiment, right?

  With that thought, Zhen made up his mind. Zhen focused, his gaze narrowing as he activated the ability to target He Shan. For a moment, nothing happened, and Zhen felt a flicker of doubt, a nagging concern that perhaps this wasn't going to work on a living person as it did on objects.

  Sage's Daily Scroll of Heavenly, Earthly, and Mortal Insights

  Target: None

  He Shan shifted uncomfortably, noticing Zhen's intense and peculiar gaze. "Brother Zhen, is there something wrong?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

  Zhen mumbled a barely coherent reply, "Just… testing something." He pushed harder, his mind delving deeper, focusing all his will on He Shan. There was a brief, agonizing moment where nothing seemed to happen, and Zhen's doubt grew stronger.

  Then, suddenly, the target changed.

  Target: Valid