Morning light crept through the narrow window, painting pale lines across the wooden floor.
Lin Yuan opened his eyes slowly.
The night of cultivation had been productive. The refined Foundation-grade spirit crystal fragment now lay on the table as dull residue, its energy completely absorbed. His liquid Qi was thicker than before, heavier, moving with slow authority rather than restless speed.
He assessed himself with practiced calm.
He was still at Early Foundation Establishment, but within this stage, there was now a clear difference between him and others. Most cultivators at this level relied on time—months or years of gradual accumulation—to stabilize their foundation. Lin Yuan had done the same in a single night, not by recklessness, but by refinement.
"The foundation is solid," he concluded. "No cracks. No excess pressure."
That mattered more than raw speed.
He stood, washed, and changed into clean clothes. The moment he stepped outside, he felt it.
The city's attitude had shifted.
In the outer districts, strength earned caution.
In the inner city, strength earned attention.
Lin Yuan had crossed into a realm where people no longer ignored him by instinct. As he walked down the street, conversations softened, eyes followed him briefly, and then looked away. No one challenged him openly, but no one treated him as invisible either.
This was the stage where rumors began.
And rumors always attracted predators.
He headed toward a teahouse near the inner market.
Not because he wanted tea.
Because information gathered where cultivators relaxed just enough to talk.
Inside, the air smelled faintly of herbs and steam. Several tables were occupied by Foundation Establishment cultivators. Their conversations were low, guarded, but fragments slipped through.
"…someone new at the auction…"
"…not from any known clan…"
"…bought a Foundation-grade fragment outright…"
Lin Yuan sat at an empty table and ordered tea.
He did not listen openly.
He simply allowed the words to reach him.
He learned several things quickly.
First, his confrontation with the Zhao Clan youth had spread. Not exaggerated, but noted. The Zhao Clan was displeased—not because of the insult itself, but because one of their juniors had lost face in public.
Second, the mid-level Foundation Establishment cultivator who had spoken to him after the auction was named Han Xue, an independent expert with a reputation for testing newcomers.
Third—and more important—the inner city's Enforcement Hall had noticed him.
That was expected.
The Enforcement Hall existed to maintain order among cultivators.
In practice, it protected the interests of the strongest forces in the city. Any independent cultivator who rose too fast, acted too boldly, or disrupted balance eventually received a "visit."
Those visits were polite.
Until they weren't.
Lin Yuan sipped his tea calmly.
"So they'll come," he thought. "The question is how."
He did not wait long to find out.
As he left the teahouse, three figures stood in the street ahead.
They wore dark robes marked with a silver emblem—an abstract tower surrounded by lines.
Enforcement Hall.
All three were Foundation Establishment cultivators.
The one in front stepped forward. He was tall, lean, his expression neutral. His Qi was restrained, but stable and heavy.
"Lin Yuan," he said evenly. "You're requested to come with us."
Requested.
Not ordered.
That word mattered.
Lin Yuan stopped and looked at them calmly.
"For what reason?"
"Routine verification," the man replied. "You entered Foundation Establishment recently and are not affiliated with any clan or sect."
Lin Yuan nodded.
"That's true."
"Then please cooperate."
People nearby slowed their steps, pretending not to watch while observing everything.
Lin Yuan did not hesitate.
"Lead the way."
The Enforcement Hall was located near the center of the inner city.
The building was wide and solid, constructed from dark stone reinforced with formation arrays. It was not luxurious, but it radiated authority. This was not a place for posturing.
Inside, Lin Yuan was led into a large hall.
Several cultivators sat along the sides, most of them Mid or Late Foundation Establishment. At the far end sat an older man with white hair and sharp eyes.
The pressure around him was unmistakable.
Late Foundation Establishment.
The man studied Lin Yuan quietly.
"So," he said at last, "you are the one who appeared overnight."
Lin Yuan met his gaze calmly.
"I didn't hide my breakthrough."
"No," the man agreed. "But you didn't announce it either."
"That's not required."
A few cultivators along the sides frowned.
The older man raised a hand slightly.
"Calm," he said. "I'm not here to interrogate you."
He leaned forward.
"I want to know your intentions."
Lin Yuan considered his answer.
Not because he was unsure.
Because precision mattered.
"I cultivate," he said. "I take missions. I trade. I don't disrupt the city."
"That's not an intention," the man replied. "That's a description."
Lin Yuan's gaze sharpened slightly.
"My intention is simple," he said. "To grow stronger. As long as the city doesn't obstruct that, I have no reason to obstruct the city."
The hall fell silent.
That was not arrogance.
It was clarity.
The older man studied him for a long moment, then smiled faintly.
"You speak like someone who knows pressure."
"I do."
"And if the city pressures you?"
Lin Yuan did not hesitate.
"Then I'll respond."
Several cultivators shifted.
The answer was dangerous.
The older man, however, laughed softly.
"Good," he said. "That's honest."
He waved a hand. "You may leave."
Just like that.
Outside the hall, Lin Yuan exhaled quietly.
"That was a test," he thought. "Not of strength. Of stance."
He had passed—not because he was submissive, but because he was predictable in the right way.
Strong cities did not fear ambition.
They feared chaos.
By afternoon, the effects were immediate.
No one followed him.
No one approached him either.
The message had spread: Lin Yuan was independent, controlled, and not worth provoking lightly.
That was the best possible outcome.
He returned to his room and laid out his remaining resources.
Spirit stones.
Low- and mid-grade materials.
Several manuals purchased earlier.
One manual caught his attention.
It was a basic body tempering method, meant for Qi Condensation cultivators. By Foundation Establishment standards, it was obsolete.
But Lin Yuan did not discard it.
"Body cultivation doesn't stop being useful," he thought. "It just stops being taught properly."
He activated the system.
[Target identified: Body tempering method]
"Improve quality," he ordered. "Adapt it to my current realm."
The method reshaped itself in his mind.
Movements refined.
Stress points adjusted.
The method shifted from crude strengthening to precise reinforcement.
Lin Yuan practiced it immediately.
Pain surfaced briefly—controlled, purposeful.
Then faded.
His bones resonated faintly as liquid Qi seeped into them, reinforcing from the inside.
"This will let my body keep up with my Qi," he concluded.
As night fell, Lin Yuan stood by the window, looking out over Qingyun City.
The lights glowed softly.
The city looked peaceful.
But beneath that surface, currents were moving.
Clans would investigate him.
Independents would test him.
Opportunities would appear.
So would traps.
Lin Yuan's expression remained calm.
"This is the natural response," he thought. "The world pushes back when something grows."
He welcomed it.
Pressure revealed weakness.
And Lin Yuan had refined himself specifically to endure it.
Tomorrow, the city would push harder.
And when it did—
He would push back.