Chapter 13: After the Night Talk, the First Move in the Dark

Deep into the night at Qingxiao Sect's Outer Disciplinary Peak, cold lantern light flickered. Lin Ce sat alone in his room—not with a cultivation jade slip in front of him, but with over a dozen relationship maps and movement records of outer sect disciples.

This was the result of his month-long effort.

He was no longer a menial disciple, but he had never truly stepped into the circle of so-called "Daoists." Shen Changsheng once said:

"There are only three realms in the cultivation world: Senior, Daoist friend, and ant."

Lin Ce knew that in the eyes of others, he had only just crawled from "ant" to "Daoist friend."

But the term "Daoist friend" could often be colder than "enemy."

His gaze fell on one name among the records—Feng Han.

On the surface, Feng Han was polite and modest, but in secret, he was highly ambitious. He had recently shone in the sect trials and was rumored to be favored by an inner sect elder.

But Lin Ce knew his true strength wasn't in spells—it was in the art of leveraging. He had aligned himself with one of the three outer sect elders and was secretly suppressing his peers, all without arousing suspicion.

And yet, this Feng Han had shown Lin Ce excessive friendliness.

That was... abnormal.

Lin Ce let out a quiet, cold laugh.

"Those who approach you kindly are either after you or trying to step on you."

He circled Feng Han's name and scribbled four characters beside it: "Can be used."

He wasn't in a hurry to confront Feng Han. He wanted to see what Feng Han planned to use him for.

Just then, a light noise came from outside.

Lin Ce didn't react outwardly. He continued writing on the paper, but his fingers had already touched a bone talisman hidden beneath the chair.

The door opened softly.

A black-robed teenager entered, thin and anxious-eyed.

"Senior Brother Lin, I... I have something to ask of you."

Lin Ce nodded. Though his expression was calm, his peripheral vision had already analyzed the teen's sleeves, gait, and demeanor.

This boy was named He Jun, a newly admitted outer disciple—someone Lin Ce had no prior contact with.

"Come in."

He Jun stepped forward but suddenly halted—he had kicked something.

Lin Ce's gaze turned sharp. "Stop."

With a pinch of the bone talisman, spirit runes lit up under the floor, illuminating a three-foot radius.

Revealing... a recording jade slip hidden in He Jun's shoe.

He Jun's face changed drastically. He turned and bolted.

"Trying to run?" Lin Ce sneered.

A bone puppet lunged from the shadows, blocking the exit.

"Speak. Who sent you?"

He Jun gritted his teeth in silence. Lin Ce flicked his finger, releasing a black gu that slithered along He Jun's neck.

"I'll talk! It was Senior Brother Feng Han... He said you might be hiding sect scrolls... told me to come and record…"

Lin Ce narrowed his eyes and nodded. "Very good."

He waved the gu worm back but didn't let He Jun leave.

"From now on, you're mine. Understand?"

He Jun froze, then nodded repeatedly like a pecking bird.

Lin Ce smiled, but in his heart, he made another note:

"Feng Han has made his first move. Then I suppose it's time for me to send a gift in return."

That night, Lin Ce modified a shoddy cultivation technique he had once bought from the black market to appear like a banned demonic art, and "accidentally" passed it to Feng Han through He Jun.

It was bait. A trap.

Cultivation Survival Law #17:

"Those who attack you first may not be enemies; but those who want something from you will never be sincere."

Lin Ce quietly sat under the lamplight, flipping to a blank page in Shen Changsheng's will, and scribbled in the corner:

Rule 19: "Trust no one. Not even yourself."