Lian woke up the next day and sat quietly on his bed.
The scene he witnessed the night before replayed in his mind over and over again.
Knowing his weakness, he forced himself to steady his breath, suppressing the fury boiling in his chest.
"I swear… I will make you all pay," he whispered.
He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palm.
"Who was that old man anyway? Why did he show me all of that? How did he know they were going to talk about my parents?"
"Everything about him was far too mysterious," he spoke, tapping his temple.
He sat there for a few more minutes, staring blankly at the floor. But he knew that simply sitting and contemplating wouldn't change anything.
"I need to investigate this thoroughly. Entering the Heavenly Sect… that will give me the opportunity."
He paused, narrowing his eyes.
"That old man might be trying to use me. I need to be careful."
He stood and headed out.
Today, the entire town was transformed.
Grand banners of the Xing Family hung from every building, fluttering proudly in the wind. On the other side was the Heavenly Star Sect; it had its banners raised—golden threads glittering under the morning sun.
Lian finally reached the doors leading to the Martial Pavilion.
Oceans of people were gathered at the entrance, all waiting for the competition.
"Those are the Rhino Twins from Tiaeti!" someone whispered excitedly.
Two enormous brutes lumbered through the crowd, each twice the size of an average man. Their armour was thick silver and grey, and each carried a massive axe strapped to their back.
"Li Fang, Chifu, Xian, even Xiao bao… just how many geniuses came today?" others murmured among themselves.
Because so many famous names were present, Lian blended into the crowd easily. For once, no eyes were focused on him.
The crowd gradually pushed forward toward the registration booths, where three powerful masters stood, overseeing the process.
Lian slipped into one of the lines and waited, inch by inch, moving forward.
It took time, but finally—he reached the front.
"Name?" one of the elders asked, not even glancing up from his scroll.
"Lian Xing," Lian replied.
"Xing…?"
The elder finally looked up, frowning in confusion.
"I thought all of your clan was already registered. What are you doing here? Well—whatever. Take this."
He handed Lian a jade name plate with his name carved on the front and a number etched on the back.
Lian received it silently and stepped aside.
"Elder, you truly don't know him?" one of the registrars whispered.
"Know him? Should I?" the elder asked, raising a brow. "Is he some kind of hidden genius?"
"Ohhh, I see… Elder, you must be new." The registrar snickered.
"He's number one."
"Number one?" the elder repeated.
"Yes—number one trash of the Tianlong! Hahaha!"
Laughter burst out around Lian.
"That disgrace actually came to the competition?" someone sneered.
"He's going to die."
More murmurs echoed like buzzing insects.
"Yeah, if he dies here, the Xing family can finally get rid of their shame," another whispered.
Before Lian could react, a sudden wave of noise swept the area.
People scrambled aside, creating an open pathway as someone approached with a calm, unhurried stride.
"That's him…" the crowd whispered.
He wore blue and white silk robes embroidered with cloud patterns.
His hair was tied neatly with a silver crown, and three elegant swords hung across his back—each one radiating a faint pressure.
"It's him… Zhou Lung," a girl gasped, clasping her hands.
"I hope he looks this way…" another whispered shyly.
The atmosphere shifted instantly—admiration, fear, and anticipation all rising as Zhou Lung walked forward like a prince descending from the palace.
He reached the registration plate,
"Zhou Lung", he spoke, his voice deep and prideful.
The elder took the plate, painted the name and gave it to Zhou Lung.
Zhou Lung accepted it without a word.
As he walked past Lian, their eyes met.
Zhou's expression twisted instantly into a frown.
"How distasteful," he muttered under his breath.
"That's the number-one genius," the registrar whispered to the new elder, watching Zhou walk with effortless grace.
Lian ignored them and continued forward.
He stepped through the main doors and entered the training pavilion.
Inside were four massive stone stages arranged in a square. Each arena had large groups of competitors gathering around it, stretching, testing their Qi, sharpening their weapons, or boasting loudly.
Lian looked up.
At the highest central tower sat Patriarch Xing, his back straight, his presence like a mountain.
On either side of him were the envoys from the Heavenly Star Sect—two old men with long silvery beards, and one woman in elegant starlit robes. Their expressions were calm, unreadable, yet every movement carried an overwhelming pressure.
Around the tower, the stands were overflowing with spectators.
People climbed over each other just to get a better view. Children sat on their parents' shoulders.
Old men leaned forward with eager eyes.
Betting stalls had already opened. The loud, rowdy gamblers were shouting over one another, waving money and talismans like madmen.
"Thank you all for coming!"
The announcer's voice boomed through the arena, amplified by Qi.
The crowd quieted instantly.
"There, we have Patriarch Xing, along with the honoured Heavenly Envoys!" he said, pointing dramatically toward the high tower.
The crowd erupted with applause and cheers.
The envoys merely nodded in acknowledgement, calm and dignified.
Lian stared at them—at him—his gaze filled with quiet fire.
One of the old men from the Heavenly Star Sect rose from his seat.
His steps were slow, steady, and yet every movement carried the weight of authority. He approached the edge of the grand platform and faced the crowd below.
"All of you," he said, his voice echoing like rolling thunder,
"look at your name plates. Those who manage to comprehend the text written within will advance to the next round."
The words struck the arena like lightning.
Then he calmly returned to his seat.
Immediately, the entire pavilion erupted into chattering.
"What—it's already starting!?"
"I didn't feel anything from mine!"
"Is this… illusion? Formation? Test?"
One by one, those without talent revealed their panic.
Faces paled. Hands shook. Some stared helplessly at their plates, unable to sense even a ripple.
But the geniuses had already moved.
Without hesitation, they injected their Qi into the jade plates and began probing the hidden formation within. The air grew heavy as dozens of different Qi signatures flared across the arena.
Lian also closed his eyes and sent his Qi into the name plate.
"When a single incense stick burns out," the announcer called, "the comprehension phase will end!"
Lian steadied his breathing.
His Qi brushed against the surface of the jade—
Then sank deeper.
A faint warmth ignited.
Inside the plate… a pattern emerged.
Be it luck or some other force, the test was on comprehending something Lian had recently mastered.
"Ahh, it's Flame Qi Art," Lian murmured.
He let his consciousness wrap around it.
Lines of heat.
Swirls of intent.
A single blazing stroke.
The flame flickered—
Then settled in his mind.
Lian's name plate pulsed blue.
"And… time is up!" the announcer declared.
"Haaa... I failed" One cultivator cried, falling to his knees.