The sun was just beginning to crest over the jagged peaks of the Small Pond Sect, painting the sky in hues of soft pink and bruised purple.
At the base of Trash Peak, a figure emerged from the shadows.
Li Fan walked with a heavy, deliberate gait. He was covered from head to toe in a layer of dried, black sludge that smelled of burnt sugar and chemical waste. It cracked and flaked with every step he took, revealing skin that was red and raw underneath.
To a casual observer, he looked like a beggar who had fallen into a latrine.
But inside, Li Fan felt like a loaded spring.
Qi Condensation Layer 4.
The spiritual energy in his dantian was no longer a wisp. It was a small, turbulent pond. It swirled with a violent, chaotic rhythm—a side effect of the low-grade pills—but it was power nonetheless.
He stopped by a secluded stream that ran along the border of the Beast Peak. The water was icy cold, fed by mountain snow.
Li Fan stepped in, fully clothed.
The freezing water hissed as it touched his feverish skin. He began to scrub.
chunks of the black tar—the expelled impurities from his marrow and meridians—drifted downstream, poisoning the fish instantly. Several minnows floated to the surface, belly up.
Li Fan ignored them. He scrubbed until his skin was clean, until the red inflammation faded to a pale, healthy tone.
He stepped out onto the bank and stripped off his ruined robes, replacing them with a fresh gray set he had stored in his spatial bag.
He looked at his reflection in the water.
He looked exactly the same as he did two days ago. Skinny. Average face. Unremarkable.
But then he clenched his fist.
Crack.
The air popped. It wasn't a sonic boom, but a sharp displacement of air caused by the sudden contraction of muscle.
He looked at a river stone the size of a watermelon. In Life 1, he would have struggled to lift it.
He reached out and picked it up with two fingers.
It felt as light as a grape.
"Layer 4 grants the strength of five bulls," Li Fan recited from memory. "Bones become hard as ironwood. Vision sharpens to see a gnat at a hundred paces."
He tossed the stone. It flew across the river, embedding itself deep into the trunk of an oak tree with a dull thud.
"But with this strength comes the cost."
Li Fan placed a hand on his chest. He could feel the Pill Poison. It was a heavy, sluggish sensation coating his meridians, like grease in a pipe. If he tried to cast a complex spell right now, the Qi would stutter. If he tried to advance to Layer 5 immediately, his heart would explode.
"Stabilization required: Seven days," Li Fan calculated. "Just enough time before the Secret Realm opens."
He touched his dantian.
Buzz.
The Heaven-Deceiving Copper Coin spun.
An invisible veil dropped over him. The sharp, vibrant aura of a Layer 4 cultivator vanished instantly. It was replaced by the weak, wavering signal of a Layer 1 trash disciple.
Li Fan adjusted his expression. The sharp glint in his eyes dulled. His shoulders slumped forward. He adopted the shuffling gait of the downtrodden.
"Time to go back to the pen," Li Fan whispered.
Outer Disciple Dormitory - Sector 7
It was mid-morning when Li Fan pushed open the door to his room.
The room was empty. Wang and Little Fatty Zhang were likely at the morning lectures or completing their sect duties.
Li Fan didn't mind. Silence was a luxury.
He sat on his bed and began to organize his spatial bag.
18 Spirit Stones (Remaining).
Meteorite Iron (Main Block).
Jade Slip (Secret Realm Map).
Fire-Lotus Seeds.
Folding Shovel.
Corpse Dissolving Powder.
He was resource-rich but cash-poor again. He had spent nearly everything on the pills.
"I need to sell the Meteorite Iron shard," Li Fan mused. "But not yet. Spending too much too quickly attracts attention."
Creak.
The door opened.
Li Fan didn't look up, assuming it was Wang.
"Well, well. Look who finally decided to show up."
The voice wasn't Wang's. It was nasally and high-pitched.
Li Fan looked up.
Standing in the doorway were three disciples. Leading them was a tall, lanky youth with a face like a horse.
Ma Liu.
In the absence of Zhao Dahu, the power vacuum in Sector 7 had been filled quickly. Ma Liu was a lackey of the Ye Clan, a cultivator at Qi Condensation Layer 3. He had been jealous of Zhao's territory for years.
"Senior Brother Ma," Li Fan said, standing up slowly. He kept his head lowered. "Can I help you?"
Ma Liu sneered, stepping into the room. His two goons followed, blocking the exit.
"You've been gone for two days, Li Fan," Ma Liu said, circling him. "Skipping roll call. Skipping lectures. Some people say you ran away with Zhao Dahu."
"I was working," Li Fan stammered, letting a tremor enter his voice. "Sanitation duty at the Waste Pit. It... it took longer than expected."
"Sanitation?" Ma Liu sniffed the air. Li Fan had washed, but the faint, chemical scent of the pills still lingered on his skin. "You smell like burnt medicine."
"I... I got sick from the fumes," Li Fan lied. "I had to take some herbal remedies."
Ma Liu laughed. "Weak trash. A little bad air and you need medicine?"
He stopped in front of Li Fan. He was a head taller. He poked Li Fan hard in the chest.
"Listen, trash. Zhao is gone. That means I run this sector now. Zhao charged you three stones a month? I'm generous. I'll charge you four."
Li Fan looked at the finger poking his chest.
Inside, he sighed.
Wolves die, and hyenas take their place. The cycle never ends.
In Life 200, Li Fan would have killed Ma Liu right here.
In Life 500, he would have crippled him.
But in Life 1000, Li Fan had bigger fish to fry. Ma Liu was a Ye Clan dog. Killing him would alert the Ye Clan before the Secret Realm opened.
"Four stones..." Li Fan widened his eyes. "Senior Brother, I... I don't have them. I spent everything on the medicine."
"Then find them!" Ma Liu roared.
To emphasize his point, Ma Liu threw a heavy punch at Li Fan's stomach.
It wasn't a lethal blow—just a "discipline" punch meant to wind him. Ma Liu used about 30% of his strength, reinforced with Layer 3 Qi.
Li Fan saw the punch coming. In his eyes, it was moving in slow motion.
He had three options:
Dodge. (Suspicious. A Layer 1 shouldn't be that fast.)
Block. (Suspicious. A Layer 1 shouldn't be that strong.)
Take it.
Li Fan chose option 3.
But he made a microscopic adjustment.
Just as the fist was about to connect, Li Fan tightened his abdominal muscles. He channeled a tiny burst of Layer 4 Qi to the point of impact, turning his stomach into a sheet of iron for a split second.
Thud.
Ma Liu's fist connected.
"Gah!"
Li Fan threw himself backward, crashing into the wall and sliding down, clutching his stomach. He coughed violently, squeezing tears out of his eyes.
"P-please! Stop!" Li Fan wailed.
But Ma Liu wasn't gloating.
Ma Liu was staring at his hand. He cradled his wrist, his face pale.
It felt like he had punched a granite mountain. The bones in his knuckles were aching. A jolt of pain shot up his arm to his shoulder.
"What the hell..." Ma Liu muttered, flexing his throbbing fingers. "Why are you so hard?"
"I... I eat a lot of stale bread!" Li Fan sobbed from the floor. "It makes my stomach tough!"
Ma Liu looked at Li Fan, then at his own hand. He was confused. He had clearly sent the kid flying, but he was the one in pain.
"Tch. Freak," Ma Liu spat, shaking his hand to get the feeling back. "You have three days, Li Fan. If I don't see four stones, I'm breaking your legs. Real this time."
He turned to his lackeys. "Let's go. This room smells weird."
They left, slamming the door.
Li Fan stayed on the floor for a full minute, just in case they were listening.
When the footsteps faded, he sat up.
He rubbed his stomach. There wasn't even a bruise.
"Layer 3 vs Layer 4," Li Fan analyzed. "The difference in body density is significant. I need to be careful. Next time, I should soften the muscle on impact, or I'll break his wrist and expose myself."
He stood up and dusted off his robes.
The encounter confirmed his hypothesis. He was strong. Strong enough to crush Ma Liu like a bug. But the mask of weakness was his greatest weapon.
Knock. Knock.
The door opened again.
It was Wang and Little Fatty Zhang. They rushed in, looking panicked.
"Li Fan!" Little Fatty Zhang gasped. "We saw Ma Liu leaving! Did he... did he hurt you?"
"I'm fine," Li Fan said, sitting back on his bed. "Just a bruised ego."
"You have to be careful," Wang whispered, closing the door. "Ma Liu is recruiting people. He says the Ye Clan is looking for 'Meat Shields' for the upcoming Secret Realm exploration."
Li Fan's ears perked up.
"Meat Shields?"
"Yes," Wang nodded. "Apparently, the Secret Realm is more dangerous this year. The Ye Clan wants to hire Outer Disciples to walk in front and trigger the traps. They are offering ten stones."
Li Fan smiled. It was a cold, sharp smile that made Wang flinch slightly.
Trigger traps? Li Fan thought.
Oh, Ye Qing. You have no idea.
"Don't worry," Li Fan said to his roommates. "I won't be a meat shield."
He reached into his pocket and fingered the cool surface of the City Lord's VIP Token.
"I plan to be the one holding the leash."
"By the way," Little Fatty Zhang added, trying to lighten the mood. "Did you hear the announcement? The Outer Sect Tournament starts in two days. The top fifty get entry into the Secret Realm."
"Two days?" Li Fan laid back, crossing his arms behind his head.
He closed his eyes.
"Perfect timing. I need a nap."