Every night after cultivation, Lin Feng felt as though his body might shatter. Absorbing nine elements simultaneously placed tremendous strain on his meridians and dantian. More than once, he coughed up blood — a sign he was pushing himself too hard.
But he didn't stop. Every day that passed without him growing stronger was time wasted.
"Lin Feng! Where are you hiding?!"
Lin Feng snapped out of his thoughts. He'd been washing clothes at the pool behind the dormitory, and Zhao Ming's furious voice echoed across the courtyard.
*Damn it. What does he want now?*
Zhao Ming stormed around the corner, his face flushed crimson. Five of his friends trailed behind him, every one of them looking displeased.
"You!" Zhao Ming jabbed a trembling finger at Lin Feng. "You stole my cultivation manual!"
Lin Feng frowned. "What — stole? I didn't steal your cultivation manual, Senior Brother Zhao."
"Don't lie!" Zhao Ming shouted. "My 'Nine Heavens Lightning Technique' manual is gone from my room! And you're the only one who cleans the inner disciples' quarters!"
Lin Feng set down the laundry he'd been washing and rose slowly. "Senior Brother Zhao, I didn't take your manual. Perhaps you misplaced it—"
A sharp slap cracked across Lin Feng's cheek, sending him stumbling sideways. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth.
"How dare you call me careless!" Zhao Ming seized Lin Feng by the collar and hoisted him up. "You think I'm stupid? That manual was on my desk this morning, and now it's gone! You're the only one who entered my room!"
Lin Feng could feel Zhao Ming's qi surging erratically — the man was losing control. If things escalated, Zhao Ming might actually attack him with the full force of his cultivation.
Lin Feng was sick of the humiliation. He wanted to fight back. But doing so would reveal his secret, and that would invite questions he couldn't answer.
So he swallowed his pride. "I didn't take it, Senior Brother Zhao. But if you'd like, I can help you look—"
"Enough!" Zhao Ming hurled him to the ground.
"Search him!"
Zhao Ming's friends immediately descended on Lin Feng. They rummaged through his pockets, pulled open his clothes, even checked his shoes and belt.
Of course, they found nothing.
Zhao Ming ground his teeth. "You must have hidden it somewhere! Let's go search the servant's room!"
"Senior Brother, please don't—"
But Zhao Ming was already sprinting toward the servants' dormitory, and Lin Feng had no choice but to follow.
Lin Feng's servant quarters held next to nothing. A thin mattress on a wooden floor. One small chest with a change of clothes. A few worn-out books — basic cultivation manuals he'd borrowed from the library.
Zhao Ming and his friends tore through everything. They smashed the chest, ripped apart the mattress, and flung books across the floor.
"Nothing here," one of Zhao Ming's friends reported.
Zhao Ming looked furious. He glared at Lin Feng with undisguised hatred. "You... you must have sold it already! A mid-level manual like that could fetch dozens of spirit stones in the city!"
"I didn't sell it because I didn't take it," Lin Feng answered, his patience wearing dangerously thin. "Maybe Senior Brother Zhao forgot where he put it. Or maybe another inner disciple—"
"SHUT UP!"
Zhao Ming's boot slammed into Lin Feng's stomach, dropping him hard. Lightning qi began gathering in Zhao Ming's hand — he was truly about to attack with his Third Layer power.
"Zhao Ming. Stop."
Bai Yun appeared in the doorway, her expression furious. "What do you think you're doing?"
"Senior Bai!" Zhao Ming instantly pulled back his qi. "This isn't what it looks like—"
"What I see is you about to attack a servant who can't defend himself with cultivation." Bai Yun stepped inside, surveying the wreckage of the room. "Explain. Now."
Zhao Ming swallowed hard, then launched into his version of events — how Lin Feng had entered his room and acted suspiciously.
Bai Yun listened calmly, then said, "But you have no proof that Lin Feng took it?"
"But he's the only one who—"
"But there's no proof," Bai Yun cut him off. "The academy rules are very clear, Zhao Ming. Without evidence, you cannot accuse someone, let alone assault them. You know the consequences for violating this rule?"
Zhao Ming's face went pale. "B-but Senior Bai—"
"Leave. Now." Bai Yun's voice was cold as ice. "And if I hear about or see you harassing Lin Feng again, I will report you to the Discipline Elders. You know how unpleasant the Cold Stone Punishment can be, don't you?"
Zhao Ming clenched his fists but didn't dare argue. With one final hateful glare at Lin Feng, he and his friends left.
Bai Yun looked down at Lin Feng, still sitting on the floor clutching his kicked stomach. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine, Senior Sister Bai. Thank you for helping me again."
Bai Yun crouched down and met his eyes. For a moment, Lin Feng thought he saw something in her gaze — something like... curiosity.
"Lin Feng, did you really not take that manual?"
"No, Senior Sister Bai."
"Hmm. Then there are two possibilities. First, Zhao Ming really was careless and misplaced his manual. Or second..."
"Second?"
"Someone else took it and let Zhao Ming blame you." Bai Yun gazed out the window. "An inner disciple stealing from another inner disciple, then pinning it on a servant like you."
Lin Feng hadn't considered that. But it made sense. A servant was the perfect scapegoat — no power to fight back.
"Regardless," Bai Yun turned toward the door, "be careful, Lin Feng. Zhao Ming won't stop. He'll keep looking for ways to blame you. Maybe it's time you reconsidered my earlier advice — finding a life somewhere else."
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