Not far from the center of the market stood the Lin Family's Moonleaf Corner Stall.
Very few people ever visited this place.
The stall was small and narrow, almost easy to overlook. Outside it, various medicinal herbs were carefully hung and arranged, giving off a faint, natural fragrance. The wooden door of the stall was tightly closed, and there was no seller in sight.
Unlike the noisy market center, this place felt strangely quiet—
Inside the stall, a boy stood near the corner.
One of his hands was pressed against the wall beside him, blocking the way, while the other rested casually at his side. In front of him stood a young girl, her back close to the wooden shelves. She did not resist his presence—nor did she welcome it. Her expression was calm, almost resigned, as if she had long grown used to this kind of situation.
The boy leaned closer, lowering his voice, his intentions obvious even without words.
Just then—
Knock. Knock.
The sudden sound from the door made the woman stiffen. She quickly stepped back, pushing him away slightly.
"Not now, Wei Shun," she whispered urgently. "My father might have returned."
Wei Shun's expression darkened. He grabbed her wrist for a moment, his voice low and annoyed.
"Then what about the stone?" he said coldly. "I gave you a white spiritual stone. Don't tell me you plan to back out now."
The woman shook his hand off, her eyes turning sharp.
"You gave it willingly," she replied. "That doesn't give you the right to force anything. Leave now. Come back when my father isn't here."
She straightened her clothes, regained her composure, and walked toward the door without looking back.
Wei Shun remained standing in the corner, his expression twisted with frustration and greed.
As the girl stepped outside the stall, she froze.
The moment her eyes fell on her father's face, her heart skipped a beat.
The color had drained from his expression, his brows tightly furrowed, as if something heavy was pressing down on him.
"Father…?" she asked in shock.
"What happened? Didn't you go to the market center? How did you come back so early?"
Her voice carried clear concern as she moved closer, searching his face for answers, a growing unease settling in her chest.
The old man, his hair streaked with white and black in a strange, uneven pattern, placed a heavy hand on her shoulder.
"Something happened at the market center," he said in a low voice.
"Our Lin family's two disciples—the ones who awakened with B-grade aptitude this time—were beaten badly. Someone even tried to strike them with a sword."
The girl's eyes widened in shock.
"What?" she exclaimed.
"Who would dare to bully them? Aren't they afraid of the Lin family at all?"
Behind her, Wei Shun also froze for a moment, disbelief flashing across his face.
"What…? They were beaten?" he muttered.
"Those people who were called rare talents?"
Then a sudden thought crossed his mind, and his expression subtly changed.
"Wait… Fang Lin was at the market too," he whispered.
"Don't tell me he was beaten as well…"
Wei Shun murmured in a low voice,
"The family head personally sent me to keep an eye on Fang Lin from the shadows, to make sure no one dares to bully him."
He rubbed his fingers together nervously as he continued,
"If he truly got beaten… the Family Head won't just punish me—I'll be thrown out without mercy. He clearly ordered me to report immediately if anything unusual happened."
A trace of fear flashed through his eyes.
The old man continued,
"I saw it with my own eyes. The one who drew the sword was wearing a white robe… and beside him was a wild-looking boy."
The two of them spoke almost at the same time, fear evident in their voices.
"Then that means… they are from the Fang family."
The old man continued gravely,
"That is why I returned so quickly. What can mortals like us possibly do if these great families clash? From the looks of it, the Lin family is already in decline. Perhaps it is time for us to seek protection under another family."
The girl lowered her gaze and nodded silently in agreement.
Wei Shun rested his hand against the well and murmured to himself,
"Someone is fighting people from the Fang family… and there was a wild boy with them. A wild boy… could it be him? No—yes, it must be Vren, the one from the Rukhan lineage. And if someone from the Fang family was with him, then it can only be Fang Lin. Fang Lin was the only one who went with him…"
His brows knitted together.
"But how could he beat someone so badly? The family head said he was always bullied… how could someone like that strike back?"
Without another word, Wei Shun turned and exited through the same back gate the girl had used earlier. He didn't spare the others a glance and walked straight toward the market, his thoughts in turmoil.
"Should I report this directly to the family head… or should I go there and see for myself?"
He clenched his teeth.
"No. I can't go to the family head yet. If he finds out that instead of watching Fang Lin from the shadows, I was doing all this… I won't survive the punishment. The safest choice is to go to Fang Lin first. At least then, my punishment won't be too severe."
With that decision made, he headed straight toward the center of the market.
At the same time, the old man saw a young man in white robes exiting their stall. His gaze immediately shifted to his daughter, his expression darkening.
"You started this business again?" he said coldly.
"And with a boy from the Fang family, no less?"
The girl's eyes snapped toward Wei Shun, fury flashing within them.
"Bastard," she hissed under her breath.
"If you had to leave, you could've used the back gate. Why did you walk out so openly? Because of you, I'm the one who's trapped now."
***********
The moment the attacks were about to touch Fang Lin's body—
Boom.
The Samsara Demon Buddha Artifact activated automatically.
A blinding golden radiance burst forth from Fang Lin's body, swallowing the surrounding space in an instant. The light was ancient, heavy, and filled with an indescribable authority—like a judgment descending from above.
Before anyone could even react, a massive bell-shaped barrier manifested around Fang Lin.
It was more than twice his height, its surface engraved with faint, revolving samsara patterns. The golden bell shimmered as if forged from divine light itself, standing immovable like a sacred monument.
Clang! Clang! Crack!
The incoming swords and spear struck the barrier—
—and shattered instantly.
Metal fragments scattered through the air as if they had collided with an unbreakable divine wall.
The three hooded figures were blasted backward by the rebound force, their bodies flying more than fifty meters away before crashing violently onto the ground, rolling helplessly across the stone floor.
The shockwave didn't stop there.
Cultivators and bystanders standing beside Fang Lin were swept off their feet, crashing onto the ground in panic and disbelief.
For a single breath of time—
Silence dominated the entire market.
The golden bell continued to glow softly, protecting Fang Lin within its embrace, its light calm yet terrifying—like a silent god watching over him.
Fang Lin stood at the center, untouched.
Unharmed.
And for the first time…
Fear truly entered the hearts of those who had tried to kill him.
The shockwave didn't discriminate.
The seller, Vren, Mu Chen—
even the Lin Family youths standing nearby were violently pushed backward, their bodies stumbling as if struck by an invisible wall.
Some crashed onto the ground.
Some barely managed to keep their footing, their legs trembling uncontrollably.
The Mu Sword Pavilion seller fell flat on his back, his breath knocked out of him.
"H–Heaven… what was that…?"
His face had completely lost its color. Years of surviving in the market told him one thing clearly—
this was far beyond anything a mortal should witness.
Vren staggered several steps back, his pupils shrinking violently.
"That wasn't sword qi… nor primal essence…"
He swallowed hard.
"It felt… alive."
Mu Chen's usually calm expression shattered.
His hands trembled as he stared at the towering golden bell.
"An artifact…?" he whispered.
"No… artifacts don't activate on their own."
The Lin Family boys, especially Lin Yichen, felt their knees weaken.
Their arrogance vanished instantly.
"That… that thing protected Fang Lin?"
"How… how could someone like him possess something like this?!"
Lin Qingyu, still lying half-conscious on the ground, felt his heart sink into an abyss.
Tried to kill him…
We really tried to kill him…
At that exact moment—
Something else happened.
The invisible space beside Fang Lin distorted.
A black mist suddenly burst outward, rippling through the air like torn silk.
Chu Jingxia's invisible form was forcibly pushed back, her outline briefly revealed as the mist scattered.
She was sent flying several meters away before stabilizing herself midair, her spiritual form flickering violently.
Her eyes widened in pure shock.
"An automatic defensive artifact…?"
Her voice trembled for the first time.
"This level of protection… even my clan's elders—"
She stopped mid-thought.
Slowly, Jingxia turned her gaze back toward Fang Lin, who stood silently inside the golden bell.
Her expression shifted—from fear…
…to disbelief.
"…Just who are you really?"
The golden light continued to hum softly.
The bell stood unmoving.
And in that frozen moment—
Everyone present, friend or foe alike, realized one terrifying truth:
Fang Lin was no longer someone they could touch.
Not with words.
Not with fists.
And certainly not with blades.
**********
Inside the Fang Family Main Meeting Hall
Fang Qinxian sat quietly on the central seat of the hall.
A porcelain teacup rested in his hand, thin white mist rising gently from its surface. He took slow, unhurried sips, his expression serene—so calm that it felt almost unreal compared to the heavy atmosphere around him.
Below his seat, on both sides of the hall, the elders of the Fang Family sat in their respective places.
Each of them wore a different expression—some solemn, some cautious, others faintly displeased.
Silence dominated the hall.
Among the elders, one unfamiliar figure sat closer to the front.
Unlike the others, his composure was clearly broken.
His face was tense, beads of sweat forming on his forehead despite the cool air inside the hall. His back was stiff, and his hands were clenched tightly on his knees.
He was Kael Rukhan,
the head of Rukhan Lineage.
And at this moment—
He felt as though he was sitting on needles.
Kael Rukhan slowly stood up from his seat.
Suppressing the unease in his heart, he brought his fists together and bowed toward Fang Qinxian in respect.
"Please forgive me, Family Head of the Fang Clan," Kael Rukhan said in a controlled voice,
"but I can no longer endure staying here any longer."
He straightened his back, his jaw tightening.
"I must take my leave."
Fang Qinxian looked toward him with calm, unreadable eyes and spoke slowly,
"Where do you think you are going, Kael Rukhan?"
His fingers lightly tapped the armrest of his seat.
"The meeting has only just begun," Fang Qinxian continued, his tone still gentle,
"and yet you wish to leave already?"
The moment his words fell—
A terrifying aura burst forth from his body.
Invisible pressure swept across the entire hall as the Rank 5 — Peak Stage cultivation of the Fang Family Head revealed itself.
The air turned heavy, like a mountain pressing down.
The moment that crushing aura spread through the hall—
Several elders subconsciously straightened their backs, their expressions tightening.
A few of them felt their chests grow heavy, as if an unseen hand was pressing down on their breathing.
One elder clenched his fists beneath the table, a flicker of shock flashing through his eyes.
"So strong… the Family Head's cultivation has already reached this level."
Another elder's tea cup trembled violently before he hurriedly set it down, not daring to make a sound.
Kael Rukhan's face paled slightly. A bead of cold sweat slid down his temple as his feet rooted to the ground.
He forced himself to remain standing, but his shoulders sank under the pressure.
"So this is the Fang Family Head…"
he thought bitterly, his heart pounding.
The entire meeting hall fell into absolute silence.
No one spoke.
No one dared to move.
Only the invisible might of Fang Qinxian filled the space, dominating every breath within the hall.
Kael Rukhan forced himself to remain standing. His teeth were clenched so tightly that they almost creaked as he spoke through sheer will.
"Please do not misunderstand me, Family Head," he said, his voice strained.
"My concern was only for Fang Lin and Vren. I feared that the other families within the Tianjian Clan might not wish to see the Fang Family rise again. They could send someone to injure them—just enough to ensure that Fang Lin would never be able to enter the sect."
As he finished speaking, the pressure in the hall grew heavier.
Fang Qinxian calmly placed the teacup from his hand onto the tray held by the servant standing beside him. The soft clink of porcelain echoed unnaturally loud in the silent hall.
Then, slowly, he raised one hand.
It was a simple gesture—yet Kael Rukhan's words died in his throat instantly.
Only after signaling him to stop did Fang Qinxian speak, his voice steady and unhurried, carrying an authority that left no room for doubt.
"I have already told you this once before," he said evenly.
"There is no need for you to worry about this matter."
The elders seated on both sides lowered their gazes.
No one dared to breathe loudly
Kael spoke again, this time in a low, unsteady voice, as if each word was being forced out of his chest.
"But… if an attack truly happens, then—"
Fang Qinxian did not answer immediately.
Silence fell upon the hall once more.
Then, in an almost casual tone, as though he were speaking about something insignificant, he finally said,
"Even if an attack does happen, it will not matter."
His gaze remained calm, unfathomably deep.
"I already gave Fang Lin an artifact beforehand."
The moment those words left his mouth, several elders felt a chill run down their spines.
An artifact.
An elder suddenly stood up and spoke, his tone filled with doubt.
"How can a single artifact protect him? Moreover, activating an artifact requires primal essence—and Fang Lin hasn't even begun cultivating yet."
The moment those words were spoken, the atmosphere in the hall subtly changed.
All gazes turned toward him at once, sharp and oppressive, as if he had said something he should not have.
Fang Qinxian leaned slightly to the side, resting his head against one hand placed on the armrest of his chair. His expression remained calm, almost indifferent, as he spoke slowly,
"Sixth Supreme Elder… it seems you were not present at the time when I handed that artifact to Fang Lin."
His eyes narrowed just a fraction.
"That was no ordinary artifact—one that requires only primal essence to activate. It is something entirely different. An object our ancestors preserved for centuries."
He paused, then spoke its name clearly, each word carrying weight.
"The Samsara Demon Buddha Artifact."
A quiet murmur spread through the elders.
Sixth supreme elder whispered in disbelief,
"That artifact… it's one of the top five treasures of the Fang Family, isn't it? A treasure that possesses both defensive and offensive capabilities—and can automatically activate up to five times without consuming primal essence."
Fang Qinxian nodded lightly.
"That is precisely why I did not send any elders or guards with him. I sent only a single boy—to observe."
His gaze turned distant, as if looking far beyond the hall.
"To see which family would be the first to make a move."
A faint, unreadable smile appeared at the corner of his lips.
"Now… all that remains is to wait for the result."
************
The moment the Samsara Demon Buddha Artifact erupted with golden light, the invisible clone floating above the market was caught directly in its wake.
A sharp, distorted crack echoed—silent to ordinary ears.
The invisible figure trembled violently.
Golden light collided with the clone's concealment technique, tearing through it like a blade cutting mist. For an instant, dark ripples spread through the air, and then—
Boom.
The invisible clone shattered into fragments of black mist, scattering violently before being forcefully sucked back into nothingness.
Far away, in a hidden location beyond the market—
Chu Jingxia's real body suddenly jerked.
"Ugh—!"
Her breath hitched as a wave of terrifying backlash surged through her meridians. Her face instantly paled, blood rushing out of the corner of her lips as her body staggered backward.
She clutched her chest tightly, her heart pounding violently, as if it were about to burst.
"That artifact…!"
Her pupils trembled.
"To think it would automatically counter even an invisible projection…"
A cold shiver ran down her spine.
The clone had not merely been destroyed—it had been forcefully severed, and the backlash carried with it a crushing pressure, as if a higher existence had glanced at her for a brief moment.
Her spiritual sea churned violently. Waves of pain crashed through her consciousness, making her vision blur.
Chu Jingxia bit her lip hard, forcing herself to stay conscious.
"If my real body had been there…"
She didn't finish the sentence.
Even imagining the outcome sent fear creeping into her heart.
After a long moment, she steadied her breathing, wiping the blood from her lips. Her eyes slowly regained clarity—now filled with deep caution and lingering shock.
"That Fang Lin…"
Her voice was low, heavy.
"He is far more dangerous than I ever imagined."
************
At the center of the market, Fang Lin stood firmly on his own feet.
There was not a single wound, not even a scratch on his body—as if nothing had happened at all.
In sharp contrast, the surroundings were in ruins.
Stalls lay damaged, the ground was cracked, and both friends and enemies were in terrible condition. Some had collapsed completely, while others struggled just to stand, their legs trembling.
Slowly, the spiritual bell of golden light protecting Fang Lin began to fade, dissolving into countless glowing particles before vanishing entirely.
The moment it disappeared, whispers erupted around the market, growing louder and louder.
"How is he completely unharmed…?" "That attack just now—what was that thing?" "Is he even human…?"
Yet Fang Lin paid no attention to the voices.
His gaze had already locked onto something else.
High in the air, a trace of black mist was quietly dissolving, dispersing as if it had never existed.
Fang Lin's eyes narrowed.
"So even here…" he thought coldly.
"That black mist—then it must be the one that sent my location."
A faint chill spread through his chest.
"Who did this…?"