Chapter 55

A young cultivator appeared out of thin air, seized the red sun in one hand, and in an instant the firelight shattered—revealing a small sword pulled from within the sun.

The man studied the small sword, its entire body wreathed in flame, and sighed: “The Immortal Sword Great Sun! This is one of the top three Immortal Foundations among all Immortal Swords—yet you managed to obtain it through a battlefield breakthrough? Still, the girl from the Bao family wasn’t harmed; no need to strike so hard.”

“Let go!” Xiaoyu strained his Dao force repeatedly, but the Immortal Sword refused to budge.

Cui Yu, having recovered from his shock, saw the situation turning sour and shouted: “Who are you? Bullying the young—is that even respectable?”

The young cultivator smiled: “I merely wished to see the legendary Immortal Sword up close! Battlefield breakthroughs are reckless—the Foundation could easily collapse to the next level. But this child is lucky; even this way, he forged an Immortal Foundation. Still, at such a young age, why so impatient?” With that, he released his grip, and the Immortal Sword flew back on its own, sinking into Xiaoyu’s brow.

Xiaoyu snorted coldly: "You wouldn't understand my innate talent for the Dao."

Cui Yu, forgetting to press his advantage, rushed to Bao Yun’s side to check her injuries. Only then did they see the dagger had pierced less than half an inch into her flesh—most of the blade was hidden beneath the folds of her robe. At her current Primordial Spirit realm, such a minor flesh wound would heal on its own within an hour, even without medicine.

The Dao Foundation artifact that had effortlessly pierced Wei Yuan’s body had merely torn through Bao Yun’s robe—clearly, her dress was no ordinary garment. It showed no aura of treasure, looked exactly like common clothing, making it all the more remarkable.

Though Bao Yun suffered only minor flesh wounds, the full force of the Dao Foundation artifact’s strike had stunned her into unconsciousness. When Cui Yu and the others lifted her and stimulated her with Dao force, she slowly awoke—then saw blood all over her hands and chest, screamed in terror, and turned pale.

Cui Yu hurried to soothe her: “Don’t worry—this is all Wei Yuan’s blood… Wei Yuan!”

Only then did they remember Wei Yuan.

Wei Yuan’s back wound still oozed blood steadily; everyone scrambled to help. Though all had learned basic elixir and healing arts, their focus was on cultivation advancement, and few bothered to master healing—except those with rare talent. And why would these young masters and ladies carry healing medicine?

Still, though panicked, they remained orderly: they sealed Wei Yuan’s wound and immediately dispatched someone to rush him to the Xuanming Hall for treatment.

Seeing how severely Wei Yuan was injured, the crowd erupted in fury, shouting curses.

Cui Yu channeled his full Dao force, his voice thundering a hundred zhang wide: “Which senior brother is so talented he secretly forged a Dao Foundation and never said a word? Afraid your name would embarrass you?”

Many Zhigu disciples silently shifted sideways, exposing one man. They too found the incident disgraceful and wished to distance themselves from him. The Zhigu disciple, torn between shame and rage, remained silent—he knew injuring Wei Yuan was forgivable, but injuring Bao Yun was a grave offense.

His silence didn’t mean Cui Yu would let it pass. Cui Yu’s pupils suddenly turned purple, sweeping over the man and the airborne cultivator—and he sneered inwardly: “So that’s all it is? Just pretense.”

Cui Yu drawled: “So you’re a bottom-tier Earth-grade Foundation? No wonder you rushed to strike—soon enough, you won’t get any chance to shine. What pitiful bloodline are you from? Which branch of some obscure family?”

The young cultivator’s face darkened: “He is of the Xu family’s direct line! Our Xu family may not rival yours, Cui, but we won’t tolerate insults.”

Cui Yu said: “The Xu family doesn’t produce Earth-grade trash.”

This insult included the airborne cultivator too. Though his Qi was far denser than Xu Du’s—among the peak of Earth-grade Foundations—he was still Earth-grade.

The young cultivator’s face turned livid: “How dare you speak so recklessly at such a young age? Didn’t your elders teach you manners?”

Before he finished, Cui Yu pointed at his nose: “I am the eldest son of the Cui family’s main line—my mother hails from a renowned clan! You’re nothing but a servant—how dare you speak of my Cui elders? I gave you two points of face, and now you’ve forgotten your place?”

The young cultivator trem

Cui Yu crossed his arms and sneered, “Only relying on your family background? Hah! When I forge my Dao Foundation, won’t you, who’s over a decade older, still have to bow and call me Senior Brother? Didn’t your elders ever teach you propriety?”

The young cultivator, furious, laughed bitterly: “How can you be so certain you’re Heaven Grade?”

Cui Yu replied calmly, “I may not have the talent of Brother Xiang Xiaoyu, but I bear the surname Cui. Even if I were ground-level trash, the Cui Clan could forcibly elevate me to Heaven Grade.”

“My Xu Clan is also one of the Seven Surnames!”

Cui Yu sneered, “Does the Xu Clan give you money to spend? You mouth ‘Xu Clan’ at every turn—how much of their resources have you actually used, you mere servant?”

All the Dingxin Sect students listened in silence; in verbal warfare, Cui Yu was leagues ahead—none could match him. The first feud between the two sects had started simply because Cui Yu had spoken too much.

Though the young cultivator’s Dao Foundation and talent surpassed Xu Du’s, his coming here specifically to attend to Xu Du clearly showed his family status was far beneath Xu Du’s. Cui Yu, born into a noble house, understood this well—he targeted only the boy’s lowly status.

The young cultivator, enraged, dared not strike Cui Yu; instead, he seized Xu Du by the collar, threw him down, snapped, “The Bao family will handle their own reckoning,” and left without another word.

After this incident, everyone had lost all desire to spar. Before long, elders from the Bao, Cui, and Xu families arrived, flooding Bao Yun with divine herbs and immortal pills—before she even reached Xuanming Hall, her injuries were already healed.

Wei Yuan, however, lay in Xuanming Pavilion for a long while.

Fortunately, the magic dagger was crudely made, with no sinister effects or cruel curses. Such a through-and-through flesh wound was minor. The Xuanming Pavilion Daoist sprinkled medicine powder over it, and the wound began healing, flesh regrowing.

Wei Yuan’s injury was severe mainly because he had not yet begun blood refining—his blood was still mortal, and though his body was strong, his recovery was barely better than a commoner’s. Worse, because his body was strong, his energy consumption soared, slowing his healing even further.

Half an hour later, Zhang Sheng finally arrived—by then, Wei Yuan’s wound had already sealed. Had he come half an hour later, it would have been fully healed.

Seeing Wei Yuan’s wound, Zhang Sheng’s face was expressionless. “Who did this?”

The Daoist was mixing poison water to cleanse Wei Yuan’s wound, dissolving the excess flesh. He had a full beard and looked old, but had not yet graduated from training—his medical skill was poor. He’d used too much healing powder earlier and now had to fix his mistake.

Hearing Zhang Sheng’s question, the Daoist interjected, “It’s just a minor matter. I heard the children were playing rough, and one of the Xu family’s boys accidentally struck too hard. The Xu family already came to apologize.”

Apologized? Zhang Sheng glanced around.

The Xuanming Pavilion ward was cramped and suffocating; even turning around was hard with extra people inside. There were no extra furnishings, not even basic decorations. Now the room was unnaturally clean—no snacks, no fruit, no gifts or visiting cards. Where was the apology?

The Daoist, still mixing medicine, slapped his forehead. “I forgot to mention—the Xu boy injured two people. The other was Bao Yun. When his family came, they brought many gifts—but all of them went to the Bao family.”

“Has anyone come here?”

The Daoist thought. “Someone came to take a look. Said nothing.”

Zhang Sheng turned and walked out.

“Master!” Wei Yuan called out urgently—he knew his teacher too well; once he stepped out, things would spiral: “It was just an accident during private sparring. Not a big deal.”

Zhang Sheng coldly replied, “Your body bears two magical artifact energy marks—one could be excused as ignorance, but the second was deliberate! And they didn’t even apologize. This won’t pass. You’re my disciple—how can you be so timid, always trying to smooth things over?”

“After all, it’s my own fault for lacking skill—I should settle this myself. Students fight; why involve elders? Besides, that mediocre fool—I’ll be able to crush him easily once I finish bone refining,” Wei Yuan pleaded again.

Zhang Sheng shook his head. “Revenge is never delayed overnight.”

At that moment, a voice came from outside the ward: “Is Wei Yuan, Senior Nephew Wei, inside?”

(End of Chapter)