Mo Fan's breathing didn't pause for a fraction of a second, perfectly maintaining the rhythm of someone who had truly just woken up.
He slowly opened his eyes and lifted his head, his gaze piercing through the shadow of his hat to land on the person who had arrived.
Standing before him was a middle-aged man wearing the attire of an inner sect deacon, his face sinister and calculating. The man stood with his hands behind his back.
Although his frame was thin, the spiritual fluctuations radiating from his body were as deep as an abyss and as vast as the sea.
Astonishingly, they reached the terrifying realm of late-stage Foundation Establishment, or even half-step Golden Core.
Before Mo Fan could even open his mouth, the sinister deacon casually waved a hand.
Hum—
A transparent ripple, nearly invisible to the naked eye, instantly unfurled, completely enveloping the corner where the two were located.
The deafening roar of the crowd and the booming explosions of spells from the surrounding martial arena seemed to have their power cords pulled, coming to an abrupt halt.
A soundproof barrier.
"Junior Brother Lu, no need to be nervous."
The sinister deacon looked down at Mo Fan, tugging the corner of his mouth into a smile that looked gentle but was steeped in calculation. "I watched your match just now. What an impressive external martial art. You are ruthless to yourself; a rare seedling."
Mo Fan didn't reply.
He simply silently placed his hand on the [ Pale Bone Scepter ] beside him, his eyes vigilant, perfectly playing the role of a bottom-tier cultivator on guard when facing a big shot.
"What a pity..."
The deacon sighed, his tone filled with enticement. "You have no Spirit Root in this life. No matter how deeply you train this external martial art into your bones, at your absolute peak, you'll just be a martial artist of the mortal realm. After a hundred years, you'll still end up as a handful of yellow dirt."
"But my master can give you a chance to defy the heavens and change your fate."
He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping extremely low, as if whispering a world-shaking secret. "My master is a certain big shot holding immense power in the inner sect."
"As long as you nod, a [ Marrow-Cleansing Golden Pill ] capable of completely shedding a body cultivator's mortal shell, a scroll of ancient body cultivation methods leading straight to the Golden Core grand Dao, and a lucrative inner sect steward position... will be delivered to your hands tomorrow."
Marrow-Cleansing Golden Pill. Ancient Cultivation Method. Lucrative Inner Sect Job.
Throwing out these three chips was enough to drive any struggling servant in the outer court completely insane. Even if told to die immediately, people would probably line up for the chance.
"My Lord, what... what do you mean by these words?" Mo Fan gulped, his voice trembling seemingly from extreme shock and longing. "Pies... don't just fall from the sky, right?"
"Talking to smart people saves so much trouble."
The deacon straightened his back, a gleam of satisfaction flashing in his eyes. "The condition is very simple. Although Junior Brother A-Song has peerless aptitude, he is ultimately young and naive. Having just entered the Dao Asking Palace, it's inevitable that he doesn't understand the ways of the world. He needs an intimate confidant to constantly guide him from the side."
"As his closest person, your words naturally carry weight."
"You only need to whisper in his ear from time to time, letting him understand that the Sect Master's faction is not his only reliance, and that he should leave a way out in all things. At critical moments, just pass a little information about his movements to us. That is all."
With these words, the dagger was revealed when the map unrolled.
This was blatant incitement to rebel, wanting to plant a spy right beside the Azure Cloud Sect's greatest future hope!
However.
Facing these astronomical chips that would make anyone's breathing hitch, the heartbeat of Mo Fan, sitting in the shadows, didn't speed up by even half a beat.
Not only did it not speed up, but his brain instantly entered a state of absolutely rational brainstorming.
"This phishing operation... has some glaring plot holes."
Mo Fan mocked frantically deep in his heart.
"First of all, I'm just a fucking bottom-tier body cultivator without even a Spirit Root! What level of strategic resource is a [ Marrow-Cleansing Golden Pill ]?"
"That's a priceless treasure capable of forcibly creating a top-tier genius! Using a resource of this caliber to bribe an outer-fringe servant who hasn't even entered the inner sect yet?"
"This is like the VP of a multinational corporation, in order to poach an intern from a rival company, directly gifting them ten luxury downtown penthouses! The ROI completely contradicts the fundamental dog-eat-dog logic of the cultivation world!"
"Secondly, a faction that truly wanted to rope in A-Song would use extremely covert methods. How could they be so stupid as to hand such a massive vulnerability to a country bumpkin servant—whose lips might not be tight—in broad daylight?"
Logical falsification complete. The conclusion was ready to be drawn.
This approach was too deliberate, too stiff, too much like entrapment!
The truth was out.
This wasn't some big shot trying to recruit him at all. This was absolutely the Sect Master's faction conducting a second "background check" targeting the social relationships around A-Song!
That high-and-mighty Sect Master would absolutely never allow an insatiably greedy "leech brother," who could be bought off at any moment, to stay beside his genius younger brother and become a flaw in A-Song's Dao Heart.
If Mo Fan dared to show even a shred of greed at this moment and reached out to take this bait...
He could guarantee that he would absolutely not live to see the sun rise tomorrow. Tonight, he would die silently in his broken hut in the servant district due to "Qi Deviation during cultivation" or a "sudden vicious illness."
"So I'm here for an audition."
Since he knew the opponent was the director, Mo Fan immediately selected his role—an extremely protective country older brother who, although ignorant of the world, was dead-set in his ways and possessed a foolish loyalty.
"Hooo—"
Mo Fan deliberately took a deep breath.
With the frantic surging of the Iron Bone Stage Qi and blood, his originally calm face instantly flushed bright red. The veins on his forehead popped out one by one, as if he had suffered a massive insult.
Without even looking at the so-called "fate-defying" chips, he abruptly shot up from the ground with a whoosh.
CLANG!
Mo Fan grabbed the Pale Bone Scepter beside him.
Like a wild bear provoked while protecting its food, he glared furiously at the Golden Core deacon before him with bloodshot eyes.
"Living in this world, there is nothing more important than the words 'Knowing gratitude and seeking to repay it'!"
Mo Fan looked highly displeased, his voice heavy and rough, carrying the unique stubbornness and anger of a bottom-tier laborer.
"The Lord Sect Master gave A-Song a new destiny, pulling him out of the mud! That is his fortune! Although I, Xiaoqi, am dull and have no Spirit Root, I am also striving to catch up with my own fists!"
"This kind of fortune falling from the sky, this humble one cannot stomach it!"
He slammed the scepter heavily onto the ground, the marble floor emitting a dull thud.
"A-Song has his own path to walk; that is the path of immortals! I, as his brother, cannot influence it, and I will absolutely never drag him down!"
"You big shots and your open strife and veiled struggles—do not implicate us two brothers!"
Mo Fan puffed out his chest, meeting the deacon's gloomy gaze fearlessly.
"Today's words, I can pretend I didn't hear them, treating them all as a joke. But, if there is a next time, even if I have to risk my rotten life, I will go to the gates of the Dao Asking Palace and report you to the Lord Sect Master!"
"My Lord, please leave!"
These words were thrown down with resonant power, every syllable seemingly weeping blood.
Not only did it establish his bottom line, but it also displayed a kind of "foolish loyalty" that would absolutely never betray the Sect Master.
Perfect. The Oscars owe me a statuette.
Hearing this righteous and awe-inspiring reprimand, the deacon, whose face had been sinister all along, froze for a moment.
He seemed offended by Mo Fan's rudeness, his face instantly darkening. But if one observed closely, they would find that deep in his eyes, a trace of imperceptible appreciation—even a certain relieved relaxation—quietly flashed by.
"You ignorant fool who doesn't know what's good for you!"
The deacon snorted coldly, deliberately putting on an act of flying into a rage out of humiliation after being rejected.
"Since you refuse a toast only to be forced to drink a forfeit, then hug that broken stick of yours and rot in this outer court for the rest of your life! You just wait!"
Saying this, he swept his large sleeve, disabling the soundproof barrier. With a flick of his robes, he strode away, disappearing into the crowd in the blink of an eye.
The roaring wave of noise rushed back into Mo Fan's eardrums.
Mo Fan sat back down in that secluded corner, laying the scepter across his knees. His chest was still heaving violently, as if he were still immersed in the anger from just now, performing the act to the very end.
But under the cover of his eyelids, his [ Death Vision ] was quietly activated to the maximum.
In his perception.
He clearly "saw" that the several obscure and terrifying Divine Senses—which had originally been hovering covertly over the Group C waiting area, locking onto him constantly like Swords of Damocles...
In this moment, like a receding tide, they quietly and completely withdrew.
The sky became clean again.
Under his hat, Mo Fan let out a long, long sigh of relief.
His back had long been soaked with cold sweat.
"Phew... Crisis averted."
The corner of Mo Fan's mouth hooked into an extremely hidden, victor's smile.
By passing this highest-level review, from today onwards, in the eyes of the Sect Master's faction, Lu Xiaoqi was no longer a potential hidden danger.
He was a "good brother" who was loyally protective, knew gratitude, and would never drag A-Song down.
This official corporate label of "loyal and foolish" would become his most indestructible amulet in the Azure Cloud Sect.
The surrounding undercurrents harboring ulterior motives would also be completely quelled because of this "official designation." No one would ever come to test him again, because the higher-ups had confirmed: this rock was tough and stubborn; it couldn't be dug out.
"Next up..."
Mo Fan closed his eyes, listening to the clashing of weapons on the arena stage, his mood more relaxed than ever before.
"As long as I camp my way into the Top 8 and get the inner sect token, this tournament will be considered a complete success."