Tu Xuan crashed his head against the chaotic rocks, his corpse plummeting from the skies and falling into the clouds below. This scene left the disciples of the Mingcang Sect outside Luanming Rock exchanging bewildered glances.
At that moment, fire and smoke surged into the air, mingling together, and all that could be seen was a thick haze. Barely visible through the fog was Tu Xuan being forced into retreat again and again by Zhang Yan’s Xuanhuang Great Hand. Though the situation was dire, Tu Xuan never once admitted defeat. The crowd thought he still had some hidden methods, waiting intently to see, but unexpectedly, this abrupt turn of events came—he chose to end his life by ramming his head.
Zhang Yan’s final sighing words seemed like a fitting epitaph. All the disciples were filled with emotion: this Brother Tu, defeated in a single moment, opted for furious self-destruction—a resolve truly unyielding and fierce.
Yet, there were also those who secretly scoffed, thinking Tu Xuan was simply unable to accept defeat. How had he managed to cultivate to this level? No wonder he had only solidified a Small Golden Core. With such a Heart Realm, what talk could there be of attaining Immortality?
Amidst the spectators, some harbored doubts in their hearts, though Tu Xuan’s act was undoubtedly his own doing. It was clear no one had forcibly compelled him. Thus, they could only suppress such suspicions, shaking their heads in silence.
At this moment, no one noticed Zhang Yan stealthily extending a single finger from the hand concealed within his sleeve. Wisps of turbid Qi slithered from his fingertip and dissipated into the swirling smoke and dust.
During his bout with Tu Xuan, the power he employed was not his own Elixir Evil, but rather derived from the Golden Core gifted to him by True Master Tao. Now, he had completely drained every ounce of Essence Qi from it, leaving it to perish after serving its purpose.
He had acted with deliberate intent, aware that certain individuals with vested interests would investigate his capabilities. Thus, he could not allow them to unravel his true limits.
While vying for a position among the Top Ten Disciples, Zhang Yan knew that if he did not display sufficient potential, he could never garner the attention of the upper echelon of this master-disciple lineage. But he had his own considerations and inner calculations. The moment to fully reveal his cards had yet to arrive; patience was still required to seize the right opportunity. For now, mere hints of brilliance would suffice.
No success is ever achieved overnight. Chasing short-term gains may bring fleeting glory, but it also invites dangers to follow quickly. On the other hand, moving gradually and deliberately allows for resolving unexpected complications along the way, avoiding chaotic haste.
Zhang Yan had always been bold, adept at leveraging circumstances, and fearless in seizing moments to act decisively. Yet, before every move, he meticulously weighed his options, never acting rashly.
Indeed, his calculations proved correct. After the battle ended, several gazes hidden within the gathered crowd quietly withdrew. Among them was a young Daoist who wore a Haoran cap and rosy clouds robe, a faint, ambiguous smile hovering on his face as he rode on clouds to the upper skies.
After waiting momentarily, an old Daoist arrived—a man with silvery hair and youthful features, his posture upright and bearing an elegance akin to that of pine and crane. The young Daoist hurried forward, greeting him respectfully, "What a surprise to encounter Junior Master Han here. This disciple pays his respects."
The old Daoist stroked his beard with a smile, saying, "So it’s you, Zheng Chang, my virtuous nephew. Since we’ve crossed paths, let us walk together."
Zheng Chang smiled lightly; he had been waiting here for this very person. Immediately, he replied with deference, "It’s been many days since our last meeting. This nephew was hoping to seek your wisdom, Junior Master."
Turning slightly to the side, he gestured invitingly. The old Daoist glanced at him, nodded, and took the lead. Zheng Chang fell slightly behind, trailing half a step behind him.
The two walked and chatted, exchanging anecdotes and discussing various past events. After some casual conversation, Zheng Chang smoothly shifted the topic and remarked, "Observing Zhang Yan today, it seems he has already achieved Elixir Formation. Tu Xuan’s defeat was indeed not undeserved."
Junior Master Han replied mildly, "Zhang Yan is indeed bold, daring to condense his pill outside of the sect. If my guess isn’t wrong, he must have had the assistance of an elder expert."
Zheng Chang glanced at the old Daoist and probed in a low voice, "In your view, Junior Master, what grade do you think Zhang Yan’s elixir might be?" ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ NovєlFіre.net
Junior Master Han paused in thought, saying, "Judging by the emitted smoke, no less than Sixth Grade, but certainly no higher than Fourth Grade either."
Zheng Chang also nodded in agreement, speaking with ease, "Junior Master has a discerning Dharma Eye as always. This nephew thought the same. If that is the case, this man is hardly worth concern. Previously, I paid him far too much attention."
Junior Master Han’s white brows slightly furrowed, his tone solemn as he said, "I see it quite differently. Zhang Yan presently enjoys high prestige among the low-level disciples. After this battle, his reputation will undoubtedly grow. If unchecked, he could very well become a danger in the future."
Zheng Chang could not help but feel puzzled, exclaiming in surprise, "Why does Junior Master say so? He merely defeated a Small Golden Core Practitioner. A Sixth Grade Elixir Formation may be commendable, but many within the sect surpass him in accomplishment. Why should Junior Master be so concerned?"