"Well, look who's back from the dead... if it isn't the great Long Huang," a young man, about 17, emerged.
"I heard you went to the Archdevil Mountain Range."
"Did you hide in a hole all this time?"
"Chi Wei says you've changed. Still trash to me."
Long Huang didn't need to turn to know who it was: Lin Feng, the chief elder disciple, hated him nearly as much as Chi Wei. Unlike Chi Wei, who had a reason, Lin Feng hated Long Huang simply for existing.
Lin Feng stood with a smug grin.
"No words? Did I make little Long Huang cry?"
"Do you ever shut up?" Long Huang muttered, irritated.
"What did you say?!" Lin Feng snapped. Long Huang ignored him and walked on until Lin Feng blocked his path. Their gazes locked, Long Huang's voice flat and edged.
"Move."
Lin Feng smirked and rolled his eyes. "Or what? You'll run away again?"
"I... said... move!"
Long Huang's body started to radiate a powerful killing intent that seemed to come to life. He stared at Lin Feng as if he were already dead to him.
"Monster!" Lin Feng stammered, trembling.
Meanwhile, the surrounding disciples tensed, sensing the killing intent, and drew their swords. Before things could escalate further, a sharp voice rang out.
"Enough!"
The senior from the Martial Pavilion strode forward with a stern expression.
"This is a place of cultivation, not childish squabbles. If you wish to fight, save it for the competition."
"Tsk, lucky."
Lin Feng scowled but backed off, glaring.
"This isn't over."
"Oh my goodness, do you all have a 'How to Be a Villain' handbook or something?"
Long Huang turned away from Lin Feng, clearly annoyed, and headed home.
As he walked, Long Huang counted his remaining money from his recent purchases—about 1,020 gold notes.
"Money is but a fickle thing, but you just can't live without it."
Long Huang was now a man who knew exactly how quickly cash could vanish in the cultivation world, and he patted his storage pouch with the smug satisfaction of someone who'd just outsmarted capitalism.
After all, a cultivator's path relied on four major things: sweat, blood, luck, and an obscene amount of resources. Dramatic confrontations with arrogant young masters were more of a side quest or a fated obstacle.
Long Huang sat cross-legged in his small home—more a 'cultivation shed' than a true house, given how little he used it.
As night fell, Long Huang closed his eyes and activated the Chaos Battle Devil Dragon Art; as the energy surged through his meridians, he grimaced in pain, his face contorting. Time went by, and the pain eased as he broke through to the peak of the 2nd stage, Muscle Tempering Realm.
He was almost already at the 3rd stage, just one more step! Though admittedly, progress in cultivation often felt like trying to climb a mountain while the mountain actively wanted to throw you off.
"Since I'm so close, I could use one of the 1000-year-old spirit ginsengs I was saving to break through to the late-stage Muscle Tempering realm. What's the worst that can happen?" he whispered before taking out the ginseng.
Then came the moment of truth. With the gravitas of a man about to eat a very expensive salad, Long Huang consumed the spirit ginseng.
"Down the hatch."
Almost immediately, his body lit up like a festival lantern.
Raw, chaotic spiritual energy roared through him, as if someone had replaced his blood with liquid lightning.
"What a strong medicinal energy!" he thought. Suddenly, the raw medicinal power's intensity increased exponentially.
He felt as if his meridians were itching all over, a sensation he'd rank mildly unpleasant, but that quickly escalated to wishing he were dead as it felt as if thousands of phantom ants were gnawing at his muscles under his skin.
"AHHHAHHAhhh!"
"Oh fuck, is this how I die? By a ginseng?"
"Why did I ever think this was a good idea?"
"I'm not going down like this."
Gritting his teeth, he channeled the Chaos Battle Devil Dragon Art, trying his best to refine the medicinal energy. He was like a man trying to wrestle a tornado into a teacup.
By morning. Long Huang blinked, flexed his fingers, and nearly wept with joy. His muscles hummed with power, his meridians sang like well-tuned guzhengs, and his energy levels were so high he felt he could punch a mountain into gravel.
"Could I have…?" said Long Huang as he inspected his cultivation level. He'd broken through to the 6th stage of the Muscle Tempering Realm!
"I'm never doing that again," Long Huang muttered, thinking of the remaining spirit ginsengs in his storage ring,unease flickering in his eyes.
Stretching, Long Huang glanced out at the rising sun, its golden light spilling over the sect's sprawling courtyards.
The previous night's training had left him restless, his veins still humming with the afterglow of his recent breakthrough.
"But first a bath!" thought Long Huang as he headed to the stream next to his house.
As he washed the day before off his skin, he sat and started to think about his other plans for the day. He wanted to test his new strength in the sparring ground and see how many overconfident sect members he could humble.
But then again, they might take offense to that and throw a fit.
"Those petty bastards are always bothering me. Why me?"
"Not saying I'm not petty myself."
"But my God, those guys are so annoying." Long Huang muttered.
"What should I do today then? I could go pay brother Fu or Bo Chow a visit." this this LOng Huang shook his head and came up with something else.
"No, I think it's time to see if Min is done sulking," said Long Huang as he then got up and prepared to head to the Fifth Elder's Manor.
With a lazy stride, he made his way toward the Fifth Elder's Manor, the morning breeze carrying the scent of blooming spirit flowers.
Enjoying the peace and scenery of the Azure Lotus Sect in the morning, as he neared the manor, whose gates were flanked by two stone-faced guards in deep blue robes.
He was stopped before he could even set foot in, as one of the guards held out his spear, blocking his path.
"Young Master Long, Miss Huang is currently in seclusion, cultivating. She's at a critical point in her breakthrough."
"Fine, fine," he sighed, waving a dismissive hand.
"Tell her I came by. And that next time, she'd better have a real excuse."
"Where's the fifth elder and Madam Su?"
"They are not here, young master," said one of the guards.
"I see, you both have a great day."
The guards exchanged a glance but said nothing as Long Huang turned on his heel, his robes flaring behind him.
With a last glance at the Manor, Long Huang sighed and strode away, the morning sun casting his shadow long behind him.
Long Huang strolled through the sect's outer courtyard, his hands clasped behind his back. Each step was light, and a warm smile graced his face as he absorbed the enchanting scenery around him.
The morning air was crisp and invigorating, filled with the melodious chirping of birds in the trees.
'Ah, the simple joys of life!'
The path leading to the sparring grounds was notably quiet; not the usual chaos of disciples shouting and training could be found. Seeing no one there, Long Huang frowned.
His fingers absently tapped against the hilt of his sword, a fidgeting reminder of the restless energy bubbling within him.
"Where to go, hmmm?" Long Huang pondered, mulling over his options. After a moment of contemplation, his thoughts finally settled on the Mission Hall.
Some time later, as he strolled through the sect, he soon spotted the Mission Hall ahead.
The structure stood out with its stark design, crafted from dark ironwood and gray stone. Its massive entrance, an arched gateway carved to resemble a lion's gaping maw, welcomed a constant stream of disciples flowing in and out.
The air around the hall was thick with the lingering scents of blood, creating a charged atmosphere. Some disciples were clustered before the entrance, their voices a low hum of negotiation and ambition as they scanned the pulsing runes detailing the available missions.
To the side, a long scarred counter made of black jade served as the reporting desk, where grim-faced attendants verified completed tasks and dispensed rewards. The atmosphere was infused with competition and the sharp, unspoken tension of those eager to prove their worth.
The mission board itself was alive with colorful slips, each announcing various quests, forming a chaotic yet inviting list of opportunities.
"Subdue the Rampaging Iron-Tusked Boar, three-star mission (Warning: Has Kicked Three Disciples Into Trees This Week)."
"Gather Ten Ghost Orchids from the Haunted Vale, five-star mission (Warning: Vale is, as the Name Suggests, Extremely Haunted)."
"Escort Merchant Caravan Through Bandit-Infested Pass four-star mission (Warning: Bandits Recently Upgraded to Better Swords)."
"Bai Ye is looking for a dao partner, two-star mission (note: must be handsome, rich, and powerful)."
Long Huang stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Hmm. The boar sounds too straightforward, and the orchid mission? That's just a horror story waiting to happen, and that last one, ummm... nah… Ah! Bandits, it is," he decided, plucking the mission slip from the board.
And walked to the desk, where he handed it to an elder of the mission hall. Seeing the mission, the elder looked at Long Huang and then said,
"You know you have to at least be at the Meridian Tempering Realm, right?"
"How convenient I broke through last night," said Long Huang smugly before displaying strength equal to a Meridian Tempering cultivator.
After confirming Long Huang's strength, the elder stamped the mission slip. Just as Long Huang tucked away the slip, a familiar voice dripped with disdain from behind him.