Chapter 96: Shadows Converge
"I appreciate your offer, Master Lu. But I'm not interested."
For a moment, the arena froze again—not from awe this time, but from sheer disbelief.
He refused?
Countless jaws dropped in unison.
Lu Qingran was briefly stunned. Not from offense—his expression remained carefully unreadable—but because few people in this world would so casually turn away from what others would gladly kill to obtain.
"He turned down the Thousand Beast Pavilion?" a young cultivator nearby whispered, voice shaking with incomprehension.
"Does he even understand what he just gave up?"
"He must be crazy... or incredibly sure of himself."
The murmurs returned, low and tense, like distant thunderclouds rolling across the horizon. Su Tianhao stood unmoved—tall and still amidst the storm of voices. Not arrogance. Conviction, rooted like a mountain that neither flattered nor begged for approval.
"Can you tell me your reason?" Lu Qingran finally asked, his voice calm and seemingly nonchalant—yet carrying unmistakable interest beneath the surface.
"I made up my mind long ago to join the Qingyun Sect," Su Tianhao said clearly. "I'll only grow stronger through competitive environments like that. The examination is two months away. I cannot suddenly change my mind."
Lu Qingran's sharp gaze lingered on him a moment longer, thoughtful and measuring.
"I see," he said finally, with a knowing smile that held more weight than mere words. "Then I'll watch your path with great interest... Su Tianhao."
With a casual turn of his sleeve, he walked away—vanishing into the crowd like a phantom dissolving in daylight, leaving behind an impression more profound than any applause could have created.
Su Tianhao exhaled quietly. Ever since his first encounter with the Ghost Eye Appraiser at the Thousand Beast Pavilion, he'd always known Lu Qingran wasn't a simple person.
'There are no free gifts in this world,' he thought, shaking his head slightly. The offer had been genuine—but entirely untempting.
If it were the opportunistic version of him from seven years ago, he might have jumped at it without hesitation. But he was different now.
'With Father and Mother's inheritance, I no longer need external assistance. I must shape my own destiny with my own hands.'
He walked out of the arena quietly. No one moved to stop him this time. After all, he'd refused Master Lu's offer—what could anyone else possibly provide that would interest him?
---
As Su Tianhao departed, Xie Ling rose abruptly from her seat, her body tensing as if to follow.
Then she stopped.
'I serve under Su Jian now. If I chase after the Young Master... he might truly ask his uncle to cripple my cultivation.'
She could still hear the words clearly, as if they'd been branded into her memory: *"I gave you everything you have now, and I can take it all away. If you dare show any concern for that bastard again... I'll have your cultivation crippled permanently."*
Xie Ling lowered herself slowly back into her seat, brows furrowed, the weight of her choice pressing down on her chest like a stone.
---
Up on the viewing platform, Zhan Kuang rose from his seat, his towering figure looming like a small mountain.
"Looks like the party is over," he said softly, a satisfied smile spreading across his gruff features. "Until next time, Su Tianhao."
Without another word, he vanished—startling those seated around him. His figure seemed to blur like a ghost fading into morning mist, quiet and swift, leaving behind only a whisper of presence.
He wasn't revealing himself to Su Tianhao yet. Not now.
Soon the spectators began filing out—from the Su family's upper echelons to the common folk who'd come purely to watch. The crowd surged with the eagerness of people competing to spread news first.
Today's match would be the talk of Oakwood City for months—perhaps years—unless something more significant arrived in the interim.
"What an exciting match," Su Lei said to Su Ruxue as he rose, silver robes billowing around him. "Don't you think?"
Hmph.
Su Ruxue didn't answer. But the unmistakable awe gleaming in her eyes betrayed her completely.
"Hahahaha!" Su Lei laughed heartily. "That's my rival!"
His voice carried pure pride—as if praising a beloved disciple—leaving Su Ruxue speechless once again.
Within minutes, the arena stood completely empty. Even Su Jian had long since fled the scene, finding it unbearable to remain. It was unknown when he might return to public view.
But as one door quietly closed, far darker eyes turned toward the shadows.
---
In a secluded alley far from the Su family estate, two shadowy figures stood motionless in the dark. Clad in dark hooded robes, their faces completely obscured, their presence barely distinguishable from the surrounding gloom. The fabric seemed to actively drink in what little light existed, allowing them to blend seamlessly into the night.
One was lean and tense—young. The other broader, older, and radiating a quiet, dangerous stillness.
The younger man stepped forward slightly, fists clenched beneath his sleeves.
Ye Wenjie.
He had slipped away from the arena unnoticed, taking advantage of the chaos that erupted when the crowd surged toward Su Tianhao with flattery and offers.
"He's gaining attention too quickly," Ye Wenjie said coldly, his voice tight with suppressed resentment. "If we don't act now, he'll climb beyond our reach."
The older man said nothing initially. His gaze drifted toward the distant lights of the Su family estate.
"And you're certain this is the one?" he asked at last, his tone low and sharp—like a blade drawn but not yet swung.
Ye Wenjie's eyes burned with naked hatred. "Absolutely. Two weeks ago he was at the 6th level at most—now he must already be a Peak-stage Martial Disciple. And not an ordinary one." Of course this was only Ye Wenjie's imagination, as two weeks ago Su Tianhao had only just reached the 1st level, and even now he stood at the 4th level, a far cry from his actual strength.
Naturally oblivious to this, fear bled into his voice as he continued. "He isn't just talented. He's dangerous. I want him dead!"
The older man's eyes flashed with a hint of surprise. He too had witnessed the match—had seen a sixteen-year-old boy catch a 6th level Martial Disciple's full-powered fist with one bare hand as if it were nothing.
And this same person had only been at the 6th level two weeks ago?
His lips curled into a thin, chilling smile. "Interesting... I've always enjoyed slaying heaven-favored geniuses."
"Jejeje..." A dark hunger entered his voice. "Who knows what secrets surround him. Even if I only obtain his concealment technique..." His eyes burned with intensifying greed.
As an assassin, a technique that masked cultivation so completely that even Martial Masters couldn't see through it was worth more than any contract fee.
Ye Wenjie felt goosebumps racing across his skin just from standing before this man. His aura was too sinister—even for someone like Ye Wenjie.
"Jejeje, don't worry, boy." The man turned sharply, his hood falling back to reveal his face.
The appearance was horrifying. Bald, with patchy tufts of hair scattered across his scalp like a vulture's plumage. A hideous scar spread across his face, leaving one eye completely blind—white and empty, without any visible eyeball. But what was most disturbing was his smile. Wild, completely sinister—distorting his already unpleasant appearance into something nightmarish.
"I, Blood Grin, am personally acting this time. Su Tianhao is as good as dead."
Ye Wenjie gulped audibly.
He'd heard of this man from his intermediary. Blood Grin was a Martial Adept who killed not merely for coin—but for pleasure. He specialized in low to mid-level assassination contracts, operating in the cracks between the powerful—targeting rising talents and anyone who hadn't yet gathered strong backing.
What made him truly feared was his sadism. Blood Grin didn't believe in clean kills. He stalked his targets, broke their will, let them believe they could escape—only to crush them at their absolute lowest. Some victims died before the final blow ever landed, driven mad by the psychological games he played.
'Su Tianhao, who would've thought the Blood Shadow Assassins would send someone like Blood Grin after you...' Ye Wenjie thought, a sinister glint flashing in his eyes. Yet despite his cruel satisfaction, his body remained tense. Standing before such a figure, he couldn't help but be cautious.
"I'll be leaving first, Lord Blood Grin. Please... take care of Su Tianhao," Ye Wenjie said, lowering his head in a rare display of deference.
Blood Grin nodded once—then vanished.
Swallowed completely by the darkness, like smoke caught in a sudden gust of wind.
Ye Wenjie felt icy chills crawl up his spine. Only after confirming Blood Grin was truly gone did he dare to breathe normally.
"Su Tianhao... be prepared for a fate worse than death."
Those words lingered in the night air.
Then Ye Wenjie turned and slipped away into the shadows.