Chapter 82: The Exchange Gathering

Lin Yi had originally not intended to concern himself with Tian Huang, but the latter brazenly and recklessly interrupted another’s cultivation. For any cultivator, this was a grave taboo; even the slightest misstep could lead to inner demons or, worse, the reversal of one’s vital energy, causing irreparable harm.

Huang Tian had already reached the Innate Realm—how could he not know this principle? It was clearly a deliberate act.

“Spare me,” Tian Huang pleaded, yet all he found in Lin Yi’s eyes was an icy indifference.

For the first time, true fear of death gripped him.

Lin Yi said nothing. He raised a hand, and a golden ray instantly shattered Tian Huang’s dantian, dispersing all his internal energy.

Anyone with eyes could see that Tian Huang was ruined; with his dantian destroyed, he would never again ascend to the Innate Realm.

“My dantian—you dare!” Tian Huang’s eyes were bloodshot.

Others shook their heads; Tian Huang had long relied on his grandfather’s status as the Martial Association’s Third Elder to bully the weak and extort the poor. Now, he’d run into an immovable wall.

Tian Zhi struggled to his feet and, after swallowing a medicinal pill, felt his injuries ease somewhat. He said in a deep voice, “Sir, no matter what my grandson did, you shouldn’t have crippled his dantian.”

Lin Yi turned, a faint mocking smile on his lips. “So by your logic, it was perfectly acceptable for my cultivation to be interrupted?”

Tian Zhi glared, “You’re twisting words. Besides, you’re unharmed and you’ve already crippled my grandson’s arm. Isn’t that enough?”

He was, after all, the Third Elder of the Martial Association. To be treated this way was intolerable. Even if Lin Yi was a young grandmaster, the Martial Association’s influence was not to be underestimated. If it came down to a real fight, the outcome was far from certain.

Lin Yi replied calmly, “Crippling his dantian is about right.”

“You—!” Tian Zhi’s gaze turned dangerously dark.

“Grandfather, save me! I don’t want to be a cripple!” Tian Huang wailed.

“Don’t worry,” Tian Zhi assured him. “I will find a way to restore your dantian.”

At that moment, two figures hurried over—it was Mu Hanyu and Kang Wenbin.

Mu Hanyu walked to Lin Yi’s side and greeted him respectfully, “Mr. Lin, are you all right?”

Lin Yi stood with his hands behind his back, neither speaking nor acknowledging her presence. Mu Hanyu’s heart skipped—she knew Lin Yi was truly angered this time.

That damned Tian Huang.

Mu Hanyu ground her teeth in frustration; it had taken great effort to build rapport with Lin Yi, only for Tian Huang’s reckless blundering to ruin everything.

She approached Tian Huang and said, “Tian Huang, you have repeatedly violated the Martial Association’s rules. From today, the Martial Association of Mountain Province will permanently blacklist you. Furthermore, you must compensate Mr. Lin with one billion.”

“Mu Hanyu, on what grounds? My dantian is destroyed, and you still want me to compensate him?” Tian Huang protested.

Tian Zhi’s tone was equally cold: “Steward Mu, are you truly choosing to side with an outsider?”

Mu Hanyu met his gaze without fear. “Elder Tian, you’re mistaken. Mr. Lin is no outsider—he is an honored guest of our Martial Association.”

“An honored guest, huh? How amusing. As an elder, I was never informed,” Tian Zhi replied, seeing clearly that Mu Hanyu was fully supporting Lin Yi.

“Elders handle important affairs; we wouldn’t dare trouble you,” Mu Hanyu responded, her words laced with a sarcasm that no one missed.

Those familiar with the Martial Association knew that the elders led the most leisurely lives, delegating all matters unless significant interest was at stake. Still, to attain the rank of elder required both seniority and power—few dared speak out against them.

Mu Hanyu’s words left no room for ambiguity, surprising all present; few expected her to confront a grandmaster so directly. Yet, given the choice between the young prodigy Lin Yi and the aged, newly advanced Tian Zhi, it was obvious whom to support.

Tian Zhi’s face flushed with rage; were it not for Mu Hanyu’s position, her words alone would have justified killing her on the spot.

“Well, it seems even a mere steward dares speak to me thus,” Tian Zhi said coldly.

“Elder Tian, you should worry about yourself. I notified the enforcers on my way here,” Mu Hanyu replied with a chilling smile. Then she turned to Lin Yi, “Mr. Lin, are you satisfied with this outcome?”

“Convert the entire billion into spirit stones,” Lin Yi replied coolly. His anger had largely dissipated after crippling Tian Huang.

“No problem at all,” Mu Hanyu nodded repeatedly. She no longer hoped Lin Yi would join the Martial Association; as long as he didn’t oppose them, that was blessing enough.

Lin Yi returned to the cultivation chamber, while the martial artists outside buzzed with excitement.

Tian Zhi shot Mu Hanyu a venomous look, pronouncing each word with suppressed fury: “Mu Hanyu, very well.”

Mu Hanyu feigned ignorance, smiling lightly, “Thank you for the compliment, Elder Tian.”

“Hmph.”

With a cold snort, Tian Zhi hurried to Tian Huang’s side. Looking at his grandson’s twisted face, Tian Zhi seethed with frustration and rage, but did not dare take his anger out on Lin Yi—he simply nursed the grudge.

“Grandfather, you must kill that bastard for me,” Tian Huang hissed.

Slap. Tian Zhi struck him hard across the face. “Shut up. Save it for when we get home.”

...

After three hours in the cultivation room, Lin Yi emerged.

Mu Hanyu was waiting outside with a white jade bottle about the size of a water bottle in her hands. Seeing him, she greeted him warmly, “Mr. Lin, this is our Martial Association’s spiritual tea. Please accept it.”

Lin Yi glanced at the tea—about a catty, worth tens of millions by point exchange. He understood Mu Hanyu’s goodwill. After a moment’s hesitation, he accepted the gesture; he would need spirit stones for future cultivation and visits to the Association were inevitable.

Leaving the Martial Association, Lin Yi received a call from Wang Yang.

“Hello, teacher. We’ve investigated thoroughly—Sun Wenlong was behind it.”

Lin Yi nodded. “Understood. Deal with him as you see fit. I never want to see him again.”

Since Sun Wenlong could arrange an assassination on him, he could as easily target Lin Yi’s friends. Such a threat was best eliminated outright. For now, only Wu Fangling and Jia Yueru remained troublesome in Mountain Province.

“Yes, sir,” Wang Yang replied crisply.

...

In a hospital room, Sun Wenlong anxiously awaited news when he suddenly received a notification: the target’s threat level had been upgraded and the commission raised to ten million.

“What the hell?” Sun Wenlong’s eyes widened. Why had the commission suddenly increased tenfold?

He quickly messaged the Blood Pact Alliance’s customer service.

“Preliminary assessment: target’s strength at the Innate Realm.”

Sun Wenlong, no stranger to the Blood Pact Alliance, understood well the terror of the Innate Realm. How could a mere teacher like Lin Yi be such a master—enough to found a great family in a small city?

“Damn it. Ten million it is.”

Gritting his teeth, his hatred for Lin Yi only deepened as he recalled his crippled right leg. Soon, the payment was complete.

Bang.

Suddenly, a black shadow appeared by his bed, startling Sun Wenlong. “Who are you?”

“Your killer.”

With that, the shadow drew a tiny sword from his breast.

Swish.

The little sword pierced straight through Sun Wenlong’s throat, ending his life. Then, the assassin produced a small vial, dripping a liquid onto Sun Wenlong’s corpse.

Sizzle.

White smoke rose from the body, and in less than five minutes, nothing remained but a pile of black ash.

Having finished, the figure slipped out the window and vanished.

...

Leaving the Martial Association, Lin Yi walked alone toward the Zhang family estate.

The ten great families were not far from each other—ten minutes’ walk at most, a perfect bit of exercise.

“Mr. Lin, why didn’t you let us know you were coming?” Zhang Tianfang greeted him with a broad smile.

Lin Yi got straight to the point: “Any news on Wu Fangling and Jia Yueru?”

“Not yet,” Zhang Tianfang shook his head. Mountain Province was large, surrounded by eight smaller cities, not to mention countless counties and villages; finding two people in such a vast area was no simple task.

“I see,” Lin Yi responded.

Zhang Tianfang continued, “There’s a cultivation exchange event starting tomorrow—three days in total. Would you like to attend?”

“Cultivation exchange?” Lin Yi was slightly puzzled.

“It’s an annual gathering organized by Mountain Province’s martial artists,” Zhang Tianfang explained with a smile. “There are academic discussions, a trading fair—ostensibly for exchange, but really it’s about building connections.”

Lin Yi smiled faintly. Connections were a form of wealth in themselves. When he’d first started cultivating, it was through building his own network. However, those friends of old had long since passed; only he remained.

“It’s held every year for three days. Would you like to come?” Zhang Tianfang asked again.

“All right,” Lin Yi agreed.

The next day, Zhang Tianfang led Lin Yi to a mountain resort, the usual venue for the exchange.

Zhang Xinyi came along as well, grinning, “Mr. Lin, last time I came here, I picked up a treasure for thirty thousand and sold it for three million.”

Lin Yi knew Zhang Xinyi’s eye for value was unmatched—she’d make a perfect appraiser.

Along the way, people greeted Zhang Tianfang with clasped hands, but as Lin Yi had altered his appearance before arriving, no one recognized him as the young grandmaster. His ordinary looks and simple attire led most to assume he was merely a driver.