Xiangzi smiled, unshouldering his old bundle, still tinged with faint blood. He’d carried it through the ninth-grade trial, a constant companion since the Li family mines.

Opening it, he revealed two short spears. With a flick of his wrist, they snapped together into a single long spear. At his ninth-grade cultivation, the spear hummed without effort, a sharp gust swirling as he shook it.

Zhao Mu was stunned. What a domineering spear aura! Never pegged this kid for a weapons master!

Xiangzi’s hand glided over the cold spear, his expression weary, somber, nostalgic. “Learn to bow today to rise tomorrow.” Lin Junqing’s words. Since joining Baolin Martial Hall, he’d kept his head low, burying past sorrows. Only now, at ninth grade, did those suppressed emotions surface.

With a clang, the spear split back into two, tucked into the bundle. Xiangzi’s face broke into a smile. “Please, Senior Brother Zhao, pick a stance technique suited for a long spear!”

Zhao Mu nodded, still processing.

—

With a clear direction, the choice was straightforward. Guided by Zhao Mu, Xiangzi selected the Three Forms Stance, a technique both steady as a nail and fluid as wind, ideal for spears. At its peak, it made the spine a strong bow. For his footwork, Xiangzi hesitated—Lin Junqing’s Mind-Intent Six Harmonies Fist was already a supreme inner technique, making the pavilion’s outer skills seem lackluster.

On Zhao Mu’s advice, he chose Jade Ring Steps, a steady yet lively leg technique that enhanced footwork without overwhelming power. The spear follows the step, the step empowers the spear.

Solid footwork was a spear’s root, and this would bolster his spearplay.

With stance and leg techniques chosen, Xiangzi followed Zhao Mu downstairs. At the door, he froze—the figure before him was unexpected.

—

“Long time no see, Junior Brother Zhao.”

“Congratulations, Junior Brother Li, on reaching ninth grade.”

As at Righteous Virtue House, the stunning woman’s words were impeccable, warm as a spring breeze.

“Third Young Miss Li,” Xiangzi forced a smile.

Zhao Mu, facing her, seemed uneasy. “You’re too formal, Junior Brother Li. As outer disciples, we’re peers now,” she said, her smile radiant.

“Senior Sister Li, my mistake,” Xiangzi replied.

“Since we share the surname Li, no need for distance. If you face trouble, find me in the inner sect,” she said, her grace impeccable.

Share the surname? Xiangzi’s smile turned wry. Your Li and my Li aren’t the same.

“What brings Senior Sister here? If I can help, I will,” Xiangzi said, cutting through the pleasantries.

Li’s expression faltered—used to flattery, she rarely met such directness. Suppressing a flicker of surprise, she laughed, her face blooming with charm. “Junior Brother’s straightforward. I’m here for a matter.”

She paused, smiling. “You may not know, but outer disciples must take an assignment for six months to a year. The choice matters. A gentleman avoids danger, and some appealing places hide risks. If you don’t mind, I can recommend a few good ones.”

“Please, enlighten me,” Xiangzi said, his smile steady.

“Baolin disciples have many options, but three stand out: the mines, the Clear Gang, or the Marshal’s Mansion. The mansion’s quiet but lacks profit—likely not to your taste.”

Xiangzi’s heart sank. Mocking my poverty? He lowered his eyes, playing the naive new disciple, his smile tinged with just the right innocence. Yet inwardly, he felt a wave of disgust. No matter her charm, her lofty air—unchanged since their first meeting—grated. Such an infuriating quality.

“The Clear Gang’s friendly with Baolin, but it’s a web of factions. Your talent shines, but as a new outer disciple, getting tangled in their disputes could hinder your cultivation,” she continued.

“Then the mines are my best bet?” Xiangzi replied, smiling.

“Junior Brother’s sharp,” she said, beaming. “Of Forty-Nine City’s six rickshaw yards and three outer mines, only the Chen and Qian families’ five-colored wood mines are close to Baolin.”

No Li family mines? Xiangzi understood—Li was tied to Revival Martial Hall, like Shi Cheng, the steward of the Li heir he’d met. So, this talented Third Young Miss Li stays at Baolin to diversify the family’s bets?

“The Chen family, then?” Xiangzi said with a faint smile. “I’m a nobody, but I’ve heard the Chen and Li families are rivals. Going to Chen’s would pit me against your main house.”

Her smile deepened. “Exactly. Of course, it’s bold to ask, but I hope you’ll avoid the Chen family.”

With a twirl of her hand, she produced a silver note and a gold-embroidered pouch. “To apologize, I’ve prepared a small gift. Please accept it.”

Xiangzi glanced at the note—five hundred silver dollars, stamped by Barlow Trading House. The pouch’s pills were likely valuable too. Her gesture was generous, sincere.

But Xiangzi only smiled, clasping his fists. “This is a big matter. Please don’t mind, Senior Sister, but as a new outer disciple, I dare not decide alone. I’ll consult Senior Brother Zhao and Master Liu.”

Zhao Mu blinked. Consult me? Since when do you ask my opinion? You picked your techniques alone. Li’s brows furrowed, then she smiled. “Naturally, such matters need discussion. My mistake.”

Xiangzi’s smile widened. “Thank you, Senior Sister, for the advice. I’ll remember it. I’ve heard of the Li family’s might—if I get the chance, I’ll pay a visit.”

Her pride surfaced. The Li family controlled two rickshaw yards, half of South City, and had ties to the Marshal’s Mansion matriarch. Who rivals their influence? Even the old hall master gave them face. This unassuming, seemingly simple junior brother knew his place.

After more pleasantries, they parted, both satisfied.

—

Watching Xiangzi’s departing figure, Third Young Miss Li’s lips curved slightly. This gifted junior brother grasped her family’s goodwill on first meeting. That’s enough. Geniuses weren’t won in a day. Still, she couldn’t help but admire him—a nobody who faced five hundred silver dollars and a valuable pouch without blinking. What past forged such composure? Worthy of Lin Junqing’s endorsement.

But she missed the moment Xiangzi turned, his smile vanishing.

Zhao Mu frowned. “Xiangzi, you know her?”

Xiangzi lowered his head. “I suppose I do, but she doesn’t know me.” Natural for a lofty peacock to overlook dust. He’d altered his appearance, but even in his old blue shirt, she wouldn’t recognize him.

If this beauty, devoted to bolstering the Li family, knew this giant she courted harbored a burning desire to topple them, what would she think?

—

At the outer disciple courtyard, Zhao Mu said, “Here’s where we part. A Miscellaneous Courtyard junior will guide you. Take this week to settle and learn about assignments—choose carefully.”

“How about treating you to a meal soon?” Xiangzi asked, smiling.

Zhao Mu scoffed. “Wait for your stipend, pauper. No assignment, no coin—how’ll you afford me?”

Xiangzi nodded, chuckling. Offering was about respect, and for Zhao Mu, that was enough.

But he grabbed Zhao Mu’s sleeve. “Senior Brother, one request.”

Zhao Mu raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Xiangzi sighed. “My two friends from the third-class courtyard are still locked in the Wind Justice Courtyard. I want to get them out.”

Zhao Mu paused, surprised this was Xiangzi’s first concern as an outer disciple. He smiled warmly. “I’m not from Wind Justice, so I can only ask. No promises. The Five Ores Powder isn’t trivial, and your morning performance was too striking—this won’t end easily. But as the victim, your request carries weight. They’ll consider it.”

He paused. “Let’s go to the Wind Justice Courtyard together.”