Three days passed in near silence.
Fang Lin did not step out of his room even once.
From dawn to night, and from night to dawn again, he repeated the same cycle—circulating Qi, guiding it through his legs, refining every movement of the Flowing Wind Steps.
Time lost its meaning.
He didn't feel hunger.
He didn't feel fatigue.
His entire focus was immersed in cultivation.
At first, his movements were rough and inconsistent. The Qi flow would break midway, disrupting his rhythm. But he persisted.
Again.
And again.
And again.
By the second day, his movements had already become smoother.
By the third—
His body seemed to glide.
Inside the room, Fang Lin moved.
A step forward—silent.
A shift—light.
A turn—fluid.
His figure blurred faintly as he crossed from one end of the room to the other in an instant.
Then—
He stopped.
His breathing was steady.
His body no longer strained.
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"Basic mastery…"
In just three days.
If anyone else in the sect were to witness this, they would be stunned.
But Fang Lin himself knew why.
His spiritual sense.
His soul strength.
His perception.
All of it allowed him to understand and correct mistakes at a much faster rate.
But just as he relaxed slightly—
A sharp sensation rose in his stomach.
Fang Lin blinked.
Only then did he realize—
"I haven't eaten…"
Not just that.
He hadn't slept either.
For three entire days.
His body was strengthened by Qi, but he was still far from the stage where he could ignore basic needs.
He exhaled.
"I should go out for a while."
The outer sect was lively as usual.
Disciples moved about, some training, some chatting, others heading toward various halls.
Fang Lin walked calmly, his steps naturally light due to his newly mastered technique.
Unknowingly, his movement had already begun to attract attention.
"Did you see that…?"
"He's moving differently…"
"That's Fang Lin…"
Whispers followed him.
But he ignored them.
He headed straight toward the Bamboo Lotus Palace.
The moment he entered, the familiar fragrance of food filled the air.
A maid approached politely.
"Sir, would you like a meal?"
"Yes."
He was led to a seat.
This time, Fang Lin didn't hesitate much and ordered a proper meal.
Soon, the dishes were served.
He began eating.
The moment the food entered his body, a faint warmth spread through him, replenishing the energy he had unknowingly drained over the past three days.
He exhaled softly.
"Feels better…"
Just as he was eating—
A faint disturbance appeared in the air.
Subtle.
But to Fang Lin—
Clear.
His movements paused.
Then—
A figure appeared across from him.
Without a sound.
Without warning.
Fang Lin looked up.
Red robes.
Elegant posture.
Calm yet overwhelming presence.
Feng Jiu'er.
For a brief moment, Fang Lin was slightly stunned.
"…Fairy Feng."
Feng Jiu'er glanced at the dishes in front of him, then at him.
"You finally decided to eat."
Her tone was calm, but there was a hint of amusement hidden within.
Fang Lin paused slightly.
"You knew?"
"You haven't stepped out for three days," she said. "Did you think no one would notice?"
Fang Lin didn't respond.
Feng Jiu'er rested her chin lightly on her hand, observing him.
"Flowing Wind Steps… basic mastery."
It wasn't a question.
Fang Lin's eyes flickered slightly.
"You can see that?"
Feng Jiu'er gave a faint smile.
"You underestimate others too much."
She leaned back slightly.
"Three days. That's not normal."
Fang Lin said calmly, "I just practiced more."
Feng Jiu'er chuckled softly.
"Again… don't pretend."
Her gaze sharpened slightly.
"But that's fine."
She waved her hand casually.
A jade slip appeared.
Without hesitation—
She tossed it toward him.
Fang Lin caught it.
He could immediately feel the difference.
The fluctuation from this jade slip was far stronger than anything from the Technique Pavilion.
"This is—?"
"A technique," Feng Jiu'er replied.
Fang Lin looked at her.
"Why are you giving this to me?"
Feng Jiu'er's expression became slightly colder.
"Because you've already made enemies."
Fang Lin understood instantly.
"Zhou Yan's faction."
"Yes," she said. "And that's just the surface."
She leaned forward slightly.
"You stood out too early."
Fang Lin tightened his grip on the jade slip.
"I didn't intend to."
"Intent doesn't matter."
Her words were simple.
"But consequences do."
A brief silence followed.
Fang Lin lowered his gaze to the jade slip.
"What technique is this?"
Feng Jiu'er's lips curved faintly.
"Wind Break Palm."
"A high-grade Mortal technique."
Fang Lin's eyes narrowed slightly.
High-grade.
Far beyond what outer disciples usually had access to.
Feng Jiu'er continued,
"Speed alone won't save you."
"You need something that can end fights."
Her gaze locked onto his.
"If you want to survive… you need power."
Fang Lin nodded slowly.
"I understand."
Feng Jiu'er studied him for a moment.
Then said—
"This isn't charity."
Fang Lin looked up.
"It's investment."
Her tone was calm, but absolute.
"You're worth investing in."
Fang Lin didn't reply immediately.
Then—
"I won't waste it."
Feng Jiu'er nodded faintly.
"Good."
She stood up.
Then paused.
"One more thing."
Fang Lin looked at her.
"Don't rely on others."
Her voice turned colder.
"Not even me."
Before Fang Lin could respond—
She disappeared.
Just like before.
Leaving no trace behind.
Fang Lin remained seated for a moment.
Then he looked at the jade slip in his hand.
His eyes slowly sharpened.
After finishing his meal, he returned to his room.
The moment he entered—
He sat down.
Without hesitation—
He injected his spiritual sense into the jade slip.
Boom.
A flood of information entered his mind.
"Wind Break Palm."
Condense Qi into the palm.
Compress it.
Release it explosively.
Fast.
Sharp.
Deadly.
It emphasized timing and precision.
Perfectly suited for someone with high perception.
Fang Lin opened his eyes slowly.
"This…"
It matched him perfectly.
He stood up immediately.
No hesitation.
He began.
He guided Qi into his arm.
Condensed it into his palm.
At first—
It failed.
The Qi scattered.
He tried again.
And again.
Sweat formed.
His breathing grew heavier.
But his focus—
Did not waver.
Each failure refined his control.
Each attempt brought improvement.
By nightfall—
A faint layer of Qi formed over his palm.
Unstable.
But real.
Fang Lin exhaled.
"This will take time…"
But he wasn't impatient.
Three days for movement.
Then—
This would follow.
He sat down once more.
His consciousness entered his spiritual sea.
The silver expanse rippled.
The grey stone floated quietly.
Then—
It pulsed.
Faintly.
Once.
Fang Lin's eyes narrowed.
"It reacted…"
To the technique?
Or to his growth?
He didn't know.
But one thing was certain—
Everything about him…
Was accelerating.
He opened his eyes.
Outside, night had fallen once more.
But this time—
Fang Lin was no longer just adapting.
He was preparing.
For what was coming next.