Ling Xiao had been on guard for dirty tricks all along.
This bunch of narrow-minded fools were capable of anything.
So when the pebble came flying, aimed straight for his face, he reacted instantly, unleashing a punch.
It was the seventh form of the Meteor Fist—Falling Stars Like Rain.
The stone was struck and shot back along its original path.
“Ah—!”
A scream rang out, but Ling Xiao had no time to look. He was inches from the fruit now—better grab it first.
His earlier effort to deflect the pebble had sapped his momentum, leaving him unable to stay airborne.
At the critical moment, he didn’t give up. With the last of his true qi, he threw a punch downward.
The eighth form of the Meteor Fist—Heavenly Fire Assault!
This strike was ferociously powerful. The recoil thrust him just high enough for his foot to nudge the fruit.
Hand or foot, getting it down was a win.
The fruit fell, and he caught it midair as his body plummeted.
Just as he was about to crash hard into the ground, he halted about a meter above it.
The Qi Recovery Technique kicked in, saving him from embarrassment at the last second, and his landing wasn’t too shabby either.
“Who was it that said they’d crawl around the tree and bark like a dog?” Ling Xiao sneered, squeezing the fruit in his hand.
The loudmouths from earlier went mute, heads down, not daring to speak.
Ling Xiao knew these guys were spineless cowards. With a scornful smirk, he didn’t press them further, instead waving the doctor over and heading into the courtyard.
To him, this should’ve wrapped things up.
Pretty thrilling—show off and walk away!
But he hadn’t taken two steps when someone bellowed again.
“You little punk, stop right there! You hit someone and think you can just run?”
Turning, Ling Xiao saw it was Ling Fei, face livid, eyes blazing like an angry rooster.
His third-level Martial Vein aura still pressed heavily on the onlookers, though.
“Hit someone? When did I hit anyone?” Ling Xiao asked, genuinely confused.
Even if Ling Fei was stronger, he’d gone too far—Ling Xiao wasn’t about to back down.
“Playing dumb, huh?” Ling Fei snorted. “Didn’t you crack his forehead? Look at all that blood—still denying it?”
At that, a few in the crowd squirmed awkwardly, but most shamelessly sided with Ling Fei.
“Exactly! An outsider daring to hit a core Ling Clan disciple—he’s got guts!”
“Senior Brother Ling, teach him a lesson!”
“Beat this little beggar! What right does he have to train with us?”
“He’s not worthy!”
The mob’s outrage surged.
Ling Xiao had long known these core disciples looked down on outsiders, but their brazenness still stunned him.
He laughed in fury. “When I went for the fruit, someone tried to sabotage me with a pebble. I knocked it back—if he got hurt, he deserved it!”
A man lives by his pride, just as a tree lives by its bark.
Before awakening the Mountain and River Martial Soul, he’d never feared anyone. Now that he had it, was he supposed to cower before these clowns?
Besides, they were clearly picking a fight. Even groveling wouldn’t spare him a beating.
Might as well go all in!
“Big talk for a punk!” a disciple shouted. “Senior Brother Ling, what do we do?”
Aside from a few too ashamed to join, who slinked off, the rest closed in on Ling Xiao.
They’d lost face and were set on a group beatdown!
…
“Senior Sister’s back!”
Someone’s cry shifted the pack’s focus—like hungry hyenas eyeing Ling Xiao, they all turned in unison.
A girl in white appeared!
Like an ice fairy stepping out of a dream.
Bright eyes, flawless skin—she walked with an effortless grace that left the crowd spellbound.
“How can such a perfect woman exist? She’s like a goddess crafted by the heavens!” a boy stammered, nearly dropping to his knees, his eyes now blind to Ling Xiao, fixated on her.
“Ling Yixue, sixteen, third-ranked in the Elite Hall. Rumor has it she’s at the peak of the third Martial Vein level, a hair’s breadth from the fourth!” someone whispered.
Ling Xiao’s gaze settled on her too. She was his ideal woman.
But unlike the others, his admiration wasn’t just for her beauty—it was her strength.
Like him, she’d joined the Ling Clan through the entrance exam, but their paths had diverged wildly.
In one year, she’d hit the peak of the third level, trouncing Elite Hall disciples to claim third place.
Her resources were earned through sheer effort, not handed to her like Ling Feng, the tenth-ranked, who leaned on clan privilege.
That’s what genius looked like.
She’d once been Ling Xiao’s goal.
He’d believed his talent matched hers.
And he wasn’t wrong. Had he not wasted time on that flawed technique, he might’ve progressed faster, maybe even kept pace with her.
But every cloud has a silver lining—losing that got him the Mountain and River Martial Soul, a stroke of luck.
Before, he’d avoided her gaze, crippled by inferiority. Back when they joined, both were promising, but now their fates were night and day.
Today, though, he didn’t care as much.
Ling Yixue was a genius, sure, but he’d catch up soon.
As she approached, Ling Fei and the others rushed to greet her, fawning with enthusiasm.
Seeing this, Ling Xiao understood more than ever—this world revered strength.
If he were strong enough, Ling Fei wouldn’t dare mess with him; he’d be bowing instead.
Then, no one would dare call him “little beggar” to his face—maybe just mutter it behind his back.
Through the crowd, he admired Ling Yixue’s beauty.
The Mountain and River Martial Soul whirred to life, analyzing her thoroughly.
“Her true qi’s already shifting—some’s condensing into gang qi. When that shift completes, she’ll break into the gang qi stage, the fourth Martial Vein level.”
Ling Xiao felt a twinge of pressure.
But pressure breeds motivation—time to step it up.
To his surprise, Ling Yixue spoke, “Why were you all surrounding him just now?”
She remembered him.
