He flinched, raising his hands in a desperate, pathetic attempt to shield himself, bracing for the inevitable impact. The stars in his acupoints rapidly expelled qi, forming a rudimentary construct on his hand to shield him. As the searing wave of Qi crashed towards him, a single, thought consumed him: Why?

  “No Fighting.”

  A deep, commanding voice echoed through the library, cutting through the tension like a blade. The red qi froze mid-air, dissipating instantly into harmless sparks that flickered and faded.

  Zhen blinked, his heart pounding as relief washed over him. He turned his head toward the source of the voice, his gaze falling on a figure stepping out from the shadows.

  The elder strode toward them with the broom still in his hands, wearing simple robes with a lack of ostentation despite his evident power. Even though his face didn't show any emotion, his eyes carried a sternness that immediately silenced any lingering tension in the air.

  The elder’s sharp gaze flicked between them, lingering on him for a moment.

  Feeling the weight of the elder's look, he quickly dispelled the qi construct on his hand and bowed, his head lowered in deference.

  “Elder Bai,” Lan Xingchen said smoothly, inclining her head in a perfunctory bow. “I was merely teaching this outer disciple a lesson.”

  Teaching? Fucking teaching. That was almost the feeling of staring death in the face. He didn't know what realm she was in, but he knew that a flick of her finger was enough to erase his existence. His hands trembled slightly, and he could feel a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead thinking about it.

  “Teaching?” Elder Bai’s voice was even, but there was a faint edge to it. “The Martial Arts Pavilion is not a place for your games, Lan Xingchen. Core Disciple or not, don't break rules during my watch.”

  Zhen glanced up cautiously, catching the faintest hint of irritation in her eyes before she masked it with a cool indifference.

  “Of course, Elder. My apologies,” she replied, her voice devoid of any remorse.

  Elder Bai turned his attention fully to Zhen. "Did you select your technique?"

  “Yes, Elder.” Zhen bowed deeply, feeling as though he had been rescued from the precipice of a calamity.

  "Then what are you waiting for?" the elder boomed, his voice echoing through the vast chamber. "Go and check out the technique. Don't dawdle."

  Without sparing another glance at Lan Xingchen, Zhen turned and practically fled, his heart still pounding in his chest. He half expected to feel the searing heat of red qi chasing after him, burning into his back.

  He had barely taken the first step when Elder Bai seemed to vanish into thin air. By the time his second foot touched the ground, the elder was gone.

  As Zhen rounded a towering bookshelf, a flash of crimson light illuminated the aisle behind him. Is she attacking again?

  He whipped around, just in time to see a wave of oppressive energy sweep across the dusty shelves. The air crackled and hissed as the cobwebs and layers of dust vanished in an instant, revealing rows of pristine books that seemed untouched by time.

  But Zhen didn't linger to witness the aftermath.

  He hurried out of the section, the elder’s words and Lan Xingchen’s sharp gaze lingering in his mind. Whatever game she was playing, he had narrowly avoided becoming a casualty—and he wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or offended.

  ? ? ?

  Zhen stepped carefully out from between the tall bookshelves, his heart still hammering faintly in his chest. The worn scroll containing the Diamond Skin Method was tucked securely under his arm, though the subtle weight of it felt heavier than expected.

  His fingers subconsciously tightened around the parchment as he crossed the threshold into the first-floor reception area.

  As he approached the main desk, the sharp gaze of Elder Bai lifted from his sweeping. The elder's eyes narrowed, the wrinkles on his forehead deepening as his lips pressed into a thin line. Zhen felt the man's gaze cling to him, as if trying to peel away the layers of calm he wore. He forced himself to meet the elder's stare with what he hoped was an air of casualness, but inwardly he braced himself.

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  Thankfully, he didn't ask any questions, The elder's eyes flicked dismissively back to his cleaning.

  Zhen exhaled quietly through his nose, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction as he continued toward the reception desk.

  The guard stationed there barely glanced up, offering a brief nod of acknowledgement. “You can go,” the man grunted, waving him through with the indifference of someone who had seen too many disciples pass through these halls.

  As Zhen stepped into the, his attention immediately snapped to Mei. She stood near the staircase, arms crossed tightly over her chest. Her foot tapped impatiently against the polished stone floor, but her gaze kept drifting toward the shadowy maze of bookshelves behind him.

  The moment her eyes met his, Zhen caught the flash of relief that softened her face. A subtle sigh escaped her lips, but it was quickly masked by a neutral expression as if the moment of vulnerability had never happened. Still, he saw it.

  Did she think I'd stagger out of there bloodied and broken? he mused, the memory of Lan Xingchen’s fiery presence still vivid.

  Zhen hesitated, his steps slowing. Mei's eyes hadn't left him. Was she waiting for him this entire time? He glanced toward the dim interior of the library, wondering just how much time had slipped away.

  But why would she wait for me? he wondered, a flicker of doubt crossing his mind.

  Mei tilted her head slightly, her brow furrowed with concern. "Did you find something suitable, Senior Brother? You were in there for quite a while."

  He met her gaze, surprised by its clarity and directness. It was refreshingly straightforward, dispelling any lingering thoughts of ulterior motives.

  He pushed his suspicions aside, not wanting to dwell on it. Perhaps she was simply curious about the techniques he had chosen. Or maybe she had a genuine concern for his well-being.

  "Yes," Zhen replied, a genuine smile spreading across his face. "It took a bit longer than expected." He chuckled, the tension from the encounter with Lan Xingchen finally easing.

  They fell into step together, their footsteps echoing faintly as they descended the grand staircase leading to the ground level.

  For a moment, Zhen let himself relax, enjoying the companionable silence. But the image of Lan Xingchen lingered at the edges of his mind, her sharp eyes practically burning through the shelves. Finally, curiosity nudged him forward.

  “Did you…” Zhen hesitated, glancing sideways at Mei. Her expression was as composed as ever, but he could see the faint lines of tension around her eyes. “Did you meet the Seventh Core Discipl…"

  Before he could finish, Mei’s face paled, her eyes widening for the briefest of moments before she schooled her features. Her hand shot out, fingers wrapping tightly around his arm.

  "Don't," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Don't ask about her here." Mei's eyes flickered nervously toward the upper levels as if expecting someone to emerge from the shadows.

  Zhen froze, startled by the force of her reaction. He opened his mouth to press further but something in her expression silenced him. There was genuine fear there, a rare crack in her usual self-assured demeanor.

  Could she be listening in even now? Zhen wondered, a chill running down his spine. He knew Lan Xingchen's cultivation was far beyond his own; perhaps eavesdropping from a distance was child's play for her. He suddenly felt exposed, as if every thought and whisper were laid bare before her.

  “Alright.” He nodded, deciding to let the matter rest—for now.

  Changing the subject, Zhen lifted the scroll slightly. “Anyway, take a look. I picked a Profound grade technique, just like you suggested.”

  Mei’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and the grip on his arm loosened. She took a small step back, recomposing herself. "Profound grade?" she echoed, her voice regaining its usual calm tone. "That's… good."

  She paused, a thoughtful frown creasing her forehead. "But Senior Brother," she began, choosing her words carefully, “you do know that many techniques on the Foundation Establishment floor are broken, right?”

  Zhen’s brow furrowed. A knot tightened in his stomach. He had an inkling of what she meant but needed confirmation. "Broken?" he asked, his curiosity piqued.

  "Broken means that the technique is incomplete," Mei explained. "It will only take you so far. In this case, probably just to the peak of Foundation Establishment. There's no progression laid out for the next realm of cultivation."

  "But how do I get an unbroken technique then?" Zhen questioned, his hopes sinking. So this cultivation technique is basically useless in the long run? It'll only get me so far... he thought with a pang of disappointment.

  Mei considered this for a moment. "Well," she began, tapping a finger to her chin, "you could try to cultivate under an Elder. They usually have access to progressive techniques. Or you could prove your worth in the sect competitions and earn yourself some rewards. Who knows, maybe even a complete Heavenly grade technique."

  Zhen's mind raced. Become an Elder's disciple? Easier said than done. And winning sect competitions? I'm barely finding my feet here... "What about the techniques left behind by Elders who...passed away?" he ventured, thinking of the countless elders who must have ascended or perished over the centuries.

  Mei gave him a surprised look. "Each peak has its own Internal Pavilion for its elders, dead or alive," she explained. "Those without a designated peak usually have their techniques offered as rewards during sect competitions."

  By this time, they had reached the ground level. Elder Liang was still at the reception desk, but he didn't turn to look at them. Zhen started walking toward him, but Mei stopped him.

  "Hold on," she said with a gentle smile. "You need to get your supplementary books as well."