"Yes, Master…" Lin Huang answered without the slightest hesitation.

His voice was steady, but the resolve behind it was heavy. He knew this truth better than anyone. Until his revenge was fulfilled, the heart demon coiled around his Dao would never fade. No amount of secluded cultivation, no depth of comprehension, would resolve it for him.

And it wasn't only the heart demon.

There was also her.

A woman who had taken everything from him, then walked away unscathed. Worse, she now lived freely, basking in admiration that had never once been meant for her. Each time Lin Huang recalled it, the edge of his sword intent sharpened—yet his heart only grew more turbulent. He could not accept it. He refused to.

The Phoenix and Dragon Dojo was peaceful. Too peaceful.

Here, beneath Wang Chen's shadow, Lin Huang had tasted safety, guidance, and rare moments of clarity. But even in this sanctuary, danger had found him more than once. Assassins, schemes, calamities that brushed past his life with chilling intent.

Shelter was no longer growth.

If he remained, his sword would rust—not from weakness, but from hesitation.

Wang Chen saw all of this the moment Lin Huang spoke.

He understood his disciple's thoughts far too well. Despite the image he projected, Wang Chen was not cold-blooded, nor indifferent. He remembered the day Lin Huang had nearly died within the dojo's grounds, and the quiet anger that had followed. A master who could not protect his disciple forever had no right to cage him out of fear.

Still, there was regret.

Staying hidden, staying still—it had cost him before. Wang Chen knew that truth painfully well.

With a quiet sigh, he rose from the rocking chair.

The wooden creak sounded unnaturally loud in the tranquil courtyard.

He turned his gaze toward the lone sun hanging in the sky, its light spilling over Phoenix and Dragon City, bathing rooftops, towers, and distant streets in a warm, forgiving glow. For a brief moment, nostalgia flickered in his eyes—memories of paths once walked, of decisions made when the world had been just as vast and unforgiving.

Lin Huang stood silently behind him, heart tightening.

He waited.

Finally, Wang Chen spoke.

"Go, my eldest disciple."

His voice was calm, but carried a weight that settled deep into the soul.

"Disciples of the Phoenix and Dragon Dojo cannot remain closed-door cultivators forever. A blade polished only in still water will never know its true sharpness."

He turned slightly, eyes sharp yet steady.

"Only by facing the cruelty of the world, by clashing with real hatred, ambition, and desire, does one's true character emerge."

A faint, gratified smile appeared at the corner of his lips.

"And besides," he added, almost casually, "I have high expectations from you."

Although Lin Huang had already known Wang Chen wouldn't stop him, actually hearing those words sent a surge of emotion straight through his chest. For a split second, his composure shattered completely. He nearly jumped in place, excitement bursting out of him like an overjoyed puppy finally let off its leash.

"Thank you, Master!" he said fervently, voice ringing with sincerity. "This disciple will not let your expectations down!"

He knelt without hesitation and kowtowed three times in succession, each strike of his forehead against the stone heavy and resolute. When he rose, his eyes burned with renewed purpose. Without lingering, he turned and took his leave, his back straight, steps firm, as if the road ahead had already begun calling to him.

Outside the courtyard, Zhao Yufei had been waiting for quite some time.

She paced back and forth near the wooden gate, her brows knit tightly together. Every few steps, she would glance at the closed doors, then sigh, then resume pacing again. Lin Huang had been inside far longer than she expected, and the silence gnawed at her nerves.

What if Grand Master didn't allow it?

The thought alone made her chest tighten. She couldn't afford that outcome. If she wanted even the slightest chance of finding her brother, she had to leave the city. Staying here, no matter how safe, would only trap her in stagnation.

The demon army might have been crushed, but her brother had vanished without a trace. No clues. No echoes. Nothing.

And deep down, she knew there was another reason Wang Chen wanted Lin Huang to leave—one that involved her.

Ordinary cultivators like the Fang Sisters or even Rong Luo and Young Master Yun couldn't interfere at all. Wang Chen had clearly seen it: whenever Zhao Yufei interacted with others, their luck shifted subtly, invisibly drawn toward her.

Until he could find a way to resolve that imbalance, keeping Zhao Yufei away from too many people was the safest choice.

Just as her thoughts spiraled, the wooden gate slid open with a soft creak.

Lin Huang stepped out.

The change in him was immediate and unmistakable. His posture was lighter, his eyes bright, the faint pressure of restraint that usually clung to him completely gone.

Zhao Yufei didn't wait a second longer.

She rushed forward and nearly slammed into him, grabbing his sleeve with both hands. "Master! How did it go? What did Grand Master say?"

Lin Huang looked down at her eager, anxious face and couldn't help himself. A grin crept onto his lips. "Guess?"

Her expression froze for half a breath before she puffed her cheeks in irritation. She crossed her arms and huffed, scrunching her nose dramatically. "What's there to guess, you smelly Master? Of course he gave permission. Grand Master isn't as petty as you."

Any lingering warmth Lin Huang had been basking in popped instantly, like a balloon pricked by a needle.

He snorted and turned his head away, momentarily speechless. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell her more—it was that he couldn't. Too much had changed in too short a time.

In that brief span, Zhao Yufei herself had broken through again.

She had already stepped into the Foundation building Realm.

And that, more than anything, meant the path ahead would no longer be simple for either of them.

While master and disciple continued their noisy, half-serious bickering outside, a slender figure descended silently from the sky.

Li Mei landed without a sound, her feet barely disturbing the dust beneath them. She paused for a brief moment, watching Lin Huang and Zhao Yufei argue like children who had forgotten the weight of the world. The corners of her lips curved upward in a faint, fleeting smile.

She said nothing.

Turning away, Li Mei walked toward the inner courtyard alone, her steps calm and unhurried. Compared to the liveliness outside, her presence carried a quiet gravity, as if she were already walking along a different road.

At some point—she wasn't sure when—her cultivation had reached the peak of the Foundation building Realm. One step more, just a single push, and she would form her Golden Core.

Yet that final step refused to yield.

The problem wasn't comprehension. It wasn't talent. It was materials.

As those thoughts circled her mind, Li Mei arrived before Wang Chen's chamber. She raised her hand, pushed open the gate, and stepped inside without hesitation.

Wang Chen was already waiting.

The moment she crossed the threshold, he straightened into a dignified seated posture, hands folded neatly, expression serene to the point of being suspicious. It was the unmistakable "wise master who totally didn't plan this" pose.

A knowing smile tugged at his lips, as if Li Mei's arrival had been written into fate itself.

He stroked his chin thoughtfully, then muttered out loud, deliberately vague and completely shameless.

"Hmm… so many disciples these days," he sighed, eyes half-closed. "Talented, hardworking… yet somehow always unlucky when it comes to finding things like the Nine Compressions Pearl."

The words drifted lazily through the room.

Li Mei didn't even blink.

She simply nodded once, expression calm, as if confirming something she had already accepted. After months of searching, failed leads, and empty auctions, she knew better than anyone how absurdly elusive that mythical alchemical ingredient truly was.

"Yes," she replied softly. "No matter where I look… it refuses to appear."

Wang Chen's smile deepened by the tiniest margin.

Wang Chen raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on Li Mei as he let out a slow, contemplative sigh.

"So," he said lightly, voice carrying a hint of mock lament, "you also plan to go out like your senior brother, hmm?" His eyes drifted briefly toward the courtyard beyond the chamber, where the city bustled with renewed life. "It seems this place really doesn't have what it takes to temper my two troublesome disciples."

Contrary to his expectation, Li Mei shook her head almost immediately.

"No, Master." She answered without hesitation.

Wang Chen paused.

Li Mei's lips curved into a faintly shameless smile, one that didn't quite match her usual composed demeanor. She clasped her hands together politely, but there was unmistakable confidence behind the gesture.

"I have no intention of leaving," she continued calmly. "What I hope for… is that you can help me find the Nine Compressions Pearl."

Her eyes met his directly, clear and steady.

"With my current cultivation," she added, voice unhurried, "once my qi sea is sufficiently compressed, forming a Golden Core will be… relatively easy."

For a brief moment, the room fell silent.

Wang Chen's eyes twitched.

Ah. So this was the real reason.

The corner of his mouth lifted almost imperceptibly. For someone else, Li Mei's request would have sounded audacious. For him, it was almost ironic.

After all, compared to his disciples, his own situation was far more absurd.

His spiritual space had already expanded far beyond conventional limits, long surpassing the ten-kilometer threshold and pushing relentlessly toward fifteen. His qi sea was vast to the point of being monstrous, a churning ocean rather than a pond.

Compressing that into a single core?

It wasn't just difficult. It was borderline impossible.

And yet—

Wang Chen leaned back slightly, fingers tapping against the armrest as his thoughts churned. If Li Mei believed her breakthrough would be "easy," then his own Golden Core formation could only be described as an impending disaster waiting to happen.

Still… his eyes flickered with a faint, unreadable light.

Difficult had never meant impossible to him.

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