Chapter 21

In the lavish halls of the Wang Clan estate, Wang Yiran sat rigidly in his chair, his fingers tightening around the cup in his grip.

The sound of glass being shattering echoed through the room.

"He's alive?" His voice was low, but the rage beneath it trembled.

The messenger before him flinched, bowing his head even lower. "Y-yes, young master. None of the six returned. We sent another contact to investigate, and..." The man hesitated.

Wang Yiran stood abruptly, sending shards of porcelain skidding across the polished floor. "And what?"

"They're saying he killed them all," the messenger said quickly. "No bodies were found, but—there were signs of blood. No one's willing to admit they saw anything, but in the Outer Market, people don't just vanish without reason. Everyone is whispering about him."

Wang Yiran's jaw clenched. Jin Ye should have been dead. The assassins were all Qi Refinement experts, their leader at the 7th stage. How had he…?

It didn't matter.

A sneer twisted Wang Yiran's lips.

"So, the insect thinks he's a dragon now?" His voice dropped into a cold whisper. "Fine. Let him bask in his little victory. Let him believe he's untouchable."

He turned to one of his guards, his expression hard. "Double the bounty. No, triple it. If no one is willing to take the job quietly, make it public. I want every rogue cultivator and desperate fool in this city hunting him like a rabid dog."

The guard hesitated. "Young master, that may draw the attention of the Azure Sky Sect. If their recruiters hear of this—"

Wang Yiran's gaze darkened. "Then we make sure it never reaches their ears."

The guard bowed quickly and left.

Wang Yiran exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. His pride had already been wounded once. He would not allow it to happen again.

Jin Ye thought this was over.

He had no idea what was coming.

The scent of burnt flesh had faded, leaving only blackened stone where the bodies once lay. Jin Ye swept the last traces of ash into a metal pan, his movements methodical, his expression unreadable.

He stood in the center, feeling the morning chill against his skin. His Qi burned stronger than before, the power of his 6th-stage breakthrough settling deep within his meridians. The stolen fate from the assassins had sharpened his instincts, refined his senses. His movements felt lighter, his body more attuned to the energy flowing within.

Stretching his fingers, he tested his grip on his sword. The weight felt more natural now, an extension of himself rather than just a weapon. His training had paid off, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

He turned his gaze to the courtyard walls, his senses stretching outward. The spies that had watched him before were gone—for now. They would return, and next time, they would come prepared. So would he.

Jin Ye walked back inside, stripping off his bloodstained outer robe and tossing it into a small fire pit. The fabric curled in the flames, turning to embers within seconds. When he emerged again, he was dressed in a fresh black tunic, his hair tied back in a simple knot. His wounds had already healed, the only remnants of the battle being a faint soreness along his ribs where the assassin leader's blade had grazed him. A reminder that he still had room to grow.

He stepped over to a wooden table where the spoils of the night were neatly arranged.

The assassins had not come empty-handed.

A pouch of gold taels—not a fortune, but enough to cover his expenses for the next few weeks. A high-quality Qi-infused dagger, light and balanced, ideal for close combat or alchemical use. A damaged storage talisman, its inscription faded but still functional, capable of holding a few extra supplies.

His fingers lingered over the leader's saber. The blade was finely made, the edge lined with faint Qi-conductive runes, but it wasn't what he needed. It wasn't his weapon. He set it aside. Later, he would sell it to a merchant and use the coin to fund what truly mattered.

He gathered the rest of the loot into his storage ring, pausing only for a moment. His eyes drifted to the empty courtyard once more. Last night had been a test. A warning.

And now, it was time to forge himself into something even greater.

Jin Ye stepped into the dimly lit merchant's shop, the air thick with the scent of old steel and oil. The merchant, a portly man with sharp eyes, glanced up from behind his counter, his expression shifting into the familiar mask of a salesman.

"Ah, a fine collection you've brought me," the merchant said, picking up the assassin leader's saber and inspecting its edge. "Decent craftsmanship, but a little worn. I can offer—"

Jin Ye held up a hand, cutting him off. "You and I both know what it's worth. No games."

The merchant's smile didn't waver, but his fingers tapped the counter in irritation. "Alright, alright. Seven hundred gold taels for the lot."

Jin Ye didn't blink. "Nine hundred."

"Eight."

Jin Ye turned toward the door.

The merchant sighed dramatically. "Fine. Eight-fifty. But that's robbery."

Jin Ye pocketed the coin pouch without a word and left.

Outside, he took a moment to recount what he had left. Over a thousand gold taels now, enough to fund his needs for a while. Not much in the grand scheme of cultivation, but enough to secure materials for his weapon and fund his training.

He glanced at the Qi-infused dagger he had kept, flipping it between his fingers. Light, balanced, sharp. It wasn't much, but something told him it would come in handy.

Slipping it back into his storage ring, he turned down the street, his next goal clear. The forge awaited.

Jin Ye moved through the streets, his presence blending into the chaos. The rumors had already spread.

Six men had vanished overnight. No bodies, no evidence—only the lingering knowledge that they had entered Dawnroot City and never left.

Some believed it was a territorial dispute between mercenary groups. Others whispered about a rogue cultivator too dangerous to be provoked. The Wang Clan had yet to make a move, which meant one of two things: either they were still trying to piece together what had happened, or they were already planning their next strike.

Neither mattered to Jin Ye.

His focus remained on the market, where traders called out their wares, selling everything from spirit-enhanced weapons to alchemical ingredients harvested from Qi-rich forests.

As he passed a blacksmith's stall, a voice cut through the noise.

"Jin Ye, right?"

He turned, his silver eyes landing on a tall, broad-shouldered man leaning against a stall, arms crossed. The stranger had a grin.

"And you are?" Jin Ye asked, "Shen Li" the stranger said.

"Seems your name is getting around," Shen Li continued, pushing off the stall and walking closer. "Hard to ignore when six men disappear in one night."

Jin Ye didn't react. "You seem interested."

Shen Li smirked. "I like to keep track of interesting people. Keeps things exciting."

Jin Ye studied him, noting the subtle power coiled beneath his stance. This man wasn't just looking for a fight—he was testing him, measuring whether he was worth his time.

"Then keep watching," Jin Ye said, turning away. "You'll find out soon enough."

Shen Li's chuckle followed him as he disappeared into the crowd.

The forge district was alive with the rhythmic clanging of hammers against steel, the air thick with the scent of molten metal. Yun's Smithy was no different, its interior blazing with heat as Master Yun worked over a massive anvil, shaping a new weapon with slow, deliberate strikes.

Jin Ye stepped inside, the familiar warmth of the forge washing over him. Master Yun barely spared him a glance before muttering, "Took you long enough."

Jin Ye ignored the greeting, moving toward the workbench. "You said you'd give me materials when I proved myself."

Master Yun grunted, setting his hammer down. "And what exactly have you proven?" He gestured to a half-finished blade on the rack. "All I've seen is that you've got good hands. But hands don't make a weapon. Intent does."

Jin Ye met the old man's gaze, unbothered by the challenge. "Then what do you want?"

Master Yun studied him for a moment before gesturing toward a rack of weapons. "Craft a blade. Not just any blade—one that can impress a warrior. Something that speaks for itself."

As the sun set, Jin Ye moved through the streets once more, his thoughts focused on the upcoming task. A blade wasn't just metal and Qi. It was an extension of one's will, a reflection of who they were as a cultivator.

But before he could forge his weapon, he needed something else—a real test of strength.

His ears caught a snippet of conversation from a nearby stall.

"...underground tournament's starting soon. The usual crowd's coming, but there's talk of a few new monsters this time."

Jin Ye paused, listening.

"The bets are already stacking high. They say a Foundation Establishment cultivator is entering. Don't know if it's true, but either way, it's gonna be brutal."

Jin Ye's smirk was barely visible as he walked past.

Perfect.

The Azure Sky Sect entrance exam was still a month away. That was more than enough time to sharpen his blade against the strongest fighters Dawnroot City had to offer.

And if anyone thought they could stand in his way, he would make sure they never stood again.