Chapter 211

Behind the Clear Wind Temple, a light breeze carried a biting chill. It was late November, and the ground was already dusted with frost.

In a corner of the courtyard, a camellia blazed with impossibly red blooms—a stark contrast against the perpetual gray Mist.

"What's wrong with the seal?" Lin Hui rose, stretched, and strolled over to the camellia.

A gust plucked a fiery red blossom and carried it to him; he caught it in his palm.

"If you can't understand certain things, it's best to remain blissfully ignorant."

"Who are you, exactly?" By now, Mingxia had begun to doubt everything she thought she knew about Lin Hui.

His supposed background was too flawless, too mundane. His family history, personal connections, all of it—recorded in exhaustive detail. So thorough, so pristine, it could only be fabricated.

"I haven't changed at all," Lin Hui said, smiling. "Only your perception of me has."

He'd expected that revealing the Bestowal Seal would cause a stir. Setting aside the Master Bestowal Seal—the Clear Source Law Seal—even the three basic seals produced an amplifying effect no secret art could match. Many secret arts surpassed them in raw output—but none shared their one decisive advantage: zero side effects.

Lin Hui had taken stock of the Clear Wind Temple's position in the Inner City's hierarchy. To those inside the walls, it was a relatively large martial hall from the Outer City, nothing more—backed by the Rain Palace's Yuanming Hall and sheltered by Vice Palace Master Jiang Zhixia's patronage. In exchange, Lin Hui paid the Rain Palace a cut each year: dividends and kickbacks rendered as a matter of course. For the Lin family, the temple occupied a notch above the average martial hall, but only just.

In the eyes of the world, Lin Hui had risen through sheer comprehension alone—synthesizing disparate martial arts, innovating from nothing. That was his established image: an unparalleled prodigy who had simply missed his prime bone-development window.

The image served him well. It deflected suspicion across a wide range of affairs—not least the string of incidents his alter ego, Four Faces, had carried out inside the Inner City. Yet the same low profile attracted a different kind of trouble. A strong background meant nothing without visible personal strength, and reckless opportunists—men looking to score fast and disappear—naturally gravitated toward factions like the Clear Wind Temple.

"So you've been playing a part this whole time," Mingxia said quietly. "And now you've decided to stop."

"I was never playing a part," Lin Hui replied. "I simply never had the right moment—or the right opponent—to show more. That's all."

"Truly…" Mingxia studied his face and felt something she rarely felt: awe, pure and unqualified. If this wasn't some ancient monster wearing a young man's skin, then the person standing before her might be the greatest martial arts genius Tuyue City had ever produced. Bar none.

"Then that seal method—did you develop it through comprehension as well?" Mingxia asked.

"Of course," Lin Hui said without hesitation.

A beat of silence. Mingxia's thoughts churned behind her eyes, the light in them shifting as she weighed something difficult.

"I want the seal method too," she said at last. "I don't believe you truly can't bestow it without complete devotion to the Clear Wind Temple. That's just an excuse, isn't it?"

"You're welcome to try. If you can clear your mind completely, you might receive it—temporarily. But the moment a thought arises that doesn't acknowledge the Clear Wind Temple, the seal vanishes on its own." Having absorbed the Nine Skies Gate's memories, Lin Hui knew the mechanism intimately.

Mingxia wasn't the first to challenge him on this point. Watching him speak with such calm certainty, her doubt began to falter.

But she let it go. "Fine. Whether you're truly Lin Hui or not—whether the seal method actually tests loyalty or not—none of that concerns me. You've set the terms. Perhaps that's simply the price of obtaining it."

Her right hand settled on her sword hilt. "I understand. But if you want me to join the Clear Wind Temple in earnest—to take me as a true disciple—that depends on your strength—"

"I don't care whether you join or not," Lin Hui cut in.

He smiled, gave the camellia a slow twirl, and released it into the air. The petals scattered, drifting away on the breeze.

"The Clear Wind Temple's doors are open to all who come and go. I only intend to select a core of loyal disciples for the next stage of cultivation—groundwork for transmitting the remaining seal methods."

"Wait—there are more seal methods beyond this one?" Mingxia's hand recoiled from her hilt as if burned.

"Naturally. Each covers a different aspect—comprehensive across the board," Lin Hui answered plainly.

Thud.

Without another word, Mingxia dropped to her knees and pressed her forehead to the ground. "Master, please accept your disciple's bow!"

"My devotion to the Clear Wind Temple and to Master is as clear as the sun and moon—utterly sincere, without a trace of ulterior motive!"

Lin Hui had always considered Yun Xiazi to be without scruples. He hadn't expected her alter ego to be quite this shameless. The old saying held true: a person with no sense of shame is truly invincible.

But the seal method posed no real risk. The instant her conviction wavered—the moment a single hostile thought surfaced—the seal would void itself. The three branch lineages of the Nine Skies Gate had been destroyed from within for exactly this reason: outside enemies had found the loophole and used it to fracture their loyalty.

"You… fine. Let's try. If your heart truly belongs to the Clear Wind Temple, bestowing the seal won't matter." Lin Hui raised his hand, and the white light kindled once more at his fingertips.

Watching that pinprick of white light draw near, Mingxia repeated the words in her heart like a mantra: In life, I belong to the Clear Wind Temple; in death, I am its ghost.

Reshaping her own cognition through a Divine Method had never been her strength. A cultivator could only specialize in one type, and hers was built around disrupting Time Sense.

Poof. The light touched her forehead. The seal did not appear. She felt nothing.

"It didn't take." Lin Hui withdrew his hand.

"Wait—one more chance!" Mingxia called out at once.

She was a martial fanatic to her core—a once-in-a-generation genius who cherished the martial path as dearly as her own life. The seal method was a banquet laid before a starving glutton forbidden to touch it. The agony of being so close yet completely shut out was enough to drive her mad.

"The seal's test comes from within you," Lin Hui said, shaking his head. "Do you truly see yourself as a disciple of the Clear Wind Temple? Do you genuinely believe yourself to be my disciple? The seal cannot be deceived."

Mingxia went quiet.

She knew it was true. As a Grand Elder of the Three Sects, she had long since reached the absolute ceiling available to those outside the Trueblood Nobles. Beyond the Palace Master realm, there was no road forward. She had stood at that summit for so long that, in the deepest part of herself, she believed she was the pinnacle.

She had deliberately humbled herself, feigning a sense of belonging—but she knew it was a performance. In her heart, she did not believe the temple's martial arts could hold a candle to her own core Divine Method.

To her, they were a supplement—remarkable and mysterious, perhaps, but supplementary. She would never truly place them first. And because of that, she could never genuinely see herself as anyone's disciple.

She rose. After a moment of silence, her hand returned to her sword hilt.

"Temple Master." It was the first time she had used the title. "Give me a reason."

"I have none to give," Lin Hui said, still smiling. He turned his back to her.

"You're not afraid I'll cut you down where you stand and take the seal method for myself?" Mingxia's eyes narrowed.

The playful ease vanished from her bearing, replaced by something cold and absolute—a still, consuming intensity. An invisible force bled outward from her body, devouring any aura that came near. She was a black hole given form.

"You can try," Lin Hui said, his tone easy, unhurried. His back remained turned.

A breeze stirred between them, lifting a few dead leaves from the ground in silence.

"Then let's fight. If you win, I'll leave the Nine Dreams Sect and join your tutelage. If I win, you teach me the process of comprehending the seal method." By this point, she had entirely stopped thinking of him as Lin Hui. To her, he was an unknown old monster wearing a young man's face.

"I told you—I don't care whether you join or not. That isn't a fair trade," Lin Hui replied.

Mingxia paused. She considered for a moment. "Then how about this: if you win, I'll travel to Tianchong City and procure precious medicines for you, free of charge, for five years. Every expense, every loss—I bear it all."

She was laying everything on the table. A single journey to Tianchong City was perilous enough to cost half a life. The offer was steep.

"Done." Lin Hui's smile broadened with quiet satisfaction.

This was precisely what he had been angling for. However harmless Mingxia presented herself, she was a top-tier expert of one of the Three Sects. Having her drift around the Clear Wind Temple indefinitely was an enormous latent risk—one bad turn of mind and the consequences would be catastrophic.

This duel was the cleanest, most natural way to resolve it.

"Then lead on!" Mingxia was already moving, impatient to begin.

"After you."

Swish.

They vanished from the drill grounds in the same instant, two streaks launching in quick succession.

…

Huangjia Town.

Howling winds tore across open ground, and concussive crashes rang out one after another like rolling thunder.

A grayish-white tornado wound across the flat earth like a massive python—wandering, coiling, feeding on the ground beneath it—before hurling itself upward into a translucent mountain peak that descended from the sky.

At the eye of the tornado stood a slight, sword-wielding girl. At the heart of the phantom peak loomed the silhouette of a tall elder, brown-bearded and broad-shouldered. His suit of armor had long since been shredded by the savage winds, his true identity laid bare.

Each collision between the phantom python and the falling peak sent shockwaves and flying gravel through the surrounding terrain, carving swaths of destruction.

The spectators from both sides had long been driven back. They watched from elevated vantage points no closer than five hundred meters. Across Huangjia Town, experts had climbed to their rooftops to follow the clash with stunned eyes.

Among the Clear Wind Temple's group, Chen Sui turned to Liu Xiao. "Divine Officer Liu—can Senior Sister Xia win?"

"I'm not certain. The opponent is formidable. He's a Grandmaster of the Major Three Harmonies—on par with a High Divine Officer. And he's a Called One on top of that, cultivating the Overlapping Peak Divine Method. He's not easy to put down," Liu Xiao said, her voice low.

"I thought the Three Sects were purely martial factions," Chen Sui said through gritted teeth.

"Is there a rule forbidding Called Ones from joining a martial sect? The two paths don't conflict. Anyone who truly wants to reach the pinnacle must cultivate both—this is common knowledge in the Inner City," Liu Xiao replied without taking her eyes from the field.

Chen Sui absorbed that. He thought of how the Clear Wind Temple had begun grooming Called Ones of its own; clearly, the Inner City had fused the two paths far more thoroughly than the Outer City ever had.

"But Senior Sister Xia Si—why would she—" He started, then caught Liu Xiao's expression tightening. He turned at once, following her gaze to the center of the field.

On the battlefield, Xia Si and the brown-haired elder had reached the white-hot peak of their clash.

Xia Si's speed had passed the point of easy comprehension. The grayish-white python—dozens of meters from end to end—compressed into a streak of pure white light, coiling across the ground before launching itself skyward.

The Fushan Sect elder had gone all-in as well. The phantom peak had grown denser and more massive than ever. He stood at its heart, arms spread wide, veins rising furiously across his skin—the unmistakable mark of a secret art pushed to its absolute limit.

"Junior—whatever your identity or backing—fighting this hard for a mere Clear Wind Temple is enough. Let us end this here—"

"Old fossil." Xia Si's laugh rang out wild and sharp. "You're scared." She seized her sword in both hands and drove her movement technique past its limit.

Her two great secret arts ignited simultaneously, merging into a single terrifying whole: Featherweight Ascension.

"Whoever retreats dies!"

She laughed as she swung, speed surging once more past what should have been possible. Sword shadow after sword shadow erupted from her blade in rapid succession, weaving together into a vast sword net—a silver web seething with grayish-white turbulence.