“The day of the grand contest is when we’ll see who’s superior!”
Ling Xiao tossed out those words and turned to enter the library pavilion.
No matter how eloquently he spoke, if he lost at the contest, it would all be meaningless.
So he didn’t want to waste time bickering. Strengthening himself and defeating Ling Feng in one fell swoop at the contest would be far more impressive than winning a verbal spat now.
“Hehe, Brother Ling Feng, that little beggar seems to really look down on you,” Ling Yu said with a giggle, her words laced with provocation.
“Don’t worry. On the day of the contest, I’ll take care of him in passing,” Ling Feng replied, utterly dismissive of Ling Xiao’s challenge.
In his mind, Ling Xiao was nothing more than an appetizer—good for a warm-up, but hardly worthy of being his opponent.
Half a month at most—could Ling Xiao really break through to the third level of the Martial Vein in that time?
Even if he did, the Elite Hall alone had no fewer than sixty or seventy disciples at the third level. Ling Feng himself only ranked tenth among them.
Not to mention, above the Elite Hall was the Genius Hall, filled with even more monstrous talents.
Ling Feng’s true rivals were the top ten in the Elite Hall and the prodigies of the Genius Hall. His goal was to advance from the Elite Hall to the Genius Hall!
Not to waste time dueling some insignificant disciple who couldn’t even make it into the Elite Hall.
“Hee hee, maybe it won’t even be Brother Ling Feng’s turn. I’ll make him kneel and beg for mercy myself,” Ling Yu said with a smirk. Then, the striking pair left the library pavilion amid the envious and jealous gazes of the crowd.
…
Ling Xiao had already stepped into the library pavilion, though his mood was tinged with nervousness.
It was his first time, after all.
The first floor of the pavilion consisted of just one room, with no books in sight.
This was where the pavilion’s guards resided.
The guards were typically top experts of the clan—elders, or perhaps sons of the clan leader.
Today, the guard on duty was a man around thirty-five years old.
“Ling Xiao? Heh, not bad. No wonder you could injure my son—you’ve broken through,” the man said.
That’s right. The guard today was none other than Ling Chong’s father, the ninth son of the old clan leader, known as Ninth Master.
“Ninth Master, this disciple is here today to study martial techniques!” Ling Xiao replied.
He knew Ninth Master was strong—terrifyingly so, likely above the fourth level of the Martial Vein!
The Mountain and River Martial Soul’s display of Ninth Master, though lacking detailed data, showed a red warning.
That meant the gap in strength was so vast that victory was impossible.
Yet Ling Xiao remained calm and composed. He knew that as long as he was still a Ling Clan disciple, Ninth Master wouldn’t dare kill him outright.
But if he were ever expelled, he’d undoubtedly meet a miserable end.
So he had to work hard—hard enough to stay. That was the way to protect himself.
“Pretty bold kid, huh,” Ninth Master said with a cold laugh. “I won’t beat around the bush. You injured my son, and I won’t let it slide. You’re still a Ling Clan disciple now, so I can’t touch you. But you’d better not get kicked out, or you’re as good as dead.”
It was a blatant, unmasked threat.
“This disciple understands,” Ling Xiao nodded. He naturally grasped the situation.
“Good that you get it. You’re an outsider who joined through the assessment, so your treatment won’t match the main clan disciples. I’ll lay out some rules upfront to keep you from stepping out of line,” Ninth Master said.
Hearing this, Ling Xiao felt a spark of anger. There was no such rule in the clan—Ninth Master was clearly settling a personal score!
But he was helpless. Without enough strength, he could only endure. Arguing would be pointless and only make him a laughingstock.
“Please go ahead, Ninth Master,” he said flatly.
Ninth Master smirked. “As an outsider disciple, you can only go to the second floor and pick up to two martial techniques—mid-tier or low-tier, no restriction. Whether you snag a mid-tier one depends on your eye and luck. You’ve got one hour to choose. Once selected, you can keep them for twenty days. Did you hear that clearly?”
Ling Xiao’s anger flared as he listened.
He’d done his homework before coming. Any Ling Clan disciple—outsider or main clan—could pick at least four techniques, with three hours to choose and four months to practice them outside!
The disparity was outrageous.
But despite his fury, he was powerless. Gritting his teeth, he nodded. “This disciple understands.”
He understood alright—today’s injustice would be repaid tenfold, a hundredfold, in the future!
“Glad you get it. Hurry up and go,” Ninth Master said, a trace of disdain curling his lips. You beat a dog, you still look at the owner. You dared hurt my son. I can’t kill you because of clan rules, but if I force you out of the Ling Clan, I can deal with you however I please.
Ling Xiao took a deep breath, suppressing his rage, and climbed the stairs to the second floor.
The library pavilion was the Ling Clan’s treasure trove of martial classics—a symbol of a great clan’s heritage and glory!
Smaller clans didn’t even have such a place. That was the gap. The larger and more deeply rooted a clan, the more numerous and higher-quality its martial classics.
The Ling Clan’s library pavilion had four floors.
The first floor was for the guards’ residence.
The second floor held basic martial techniques, low-tier techniques, and mid-tier techniques. Low-tier ones dominated in number, with a decent amount of basic ones too. Mid-tier techniques were said to number only about twenty, making them a rare find.
The third floor housed a large number of mid-tier techniques, a fair amount of high-tier ones, and a few top-tier ones.
To enter the third floor, you had to be at least a Martial Disciple at the fourth level of the Martial Vein.
The fourth floor was rumored to contain mostly top-tier techniques, some classified Ling Clan documents, and a handful of manuals said to transcend the mundane world.
Of course, these were just rumors among disciples—no one knew if they were true.
Naturally, rules were made by people. If you were a main clan disciple with a powerful backer or exceptional talent, many restrictions could be bent in your favor.
That’s why Ling Chong could study high-tier techniques while Ling Xiao was stuck with basic ones.
For Ling Xiao, this was a rare opportunity. He had to choose carefully and aim for a mid-tier technique.
When he entered the second floor, he noticed others were already there.
But no one even glanced up at him. Though they had three hours to pick, finding a mid-tier technique among thousands of manuals was no easy task.
No one wanted to waste time.
Ling Xiao didn’t either—his time was even more precious, with just one hour.
So after a brief pause, he turned his attention to the shelves.
As one of Tianfeng City’s four great clans, the Ling Clan’s foundation was indeed deep. With thousands of manuals, flipping through them one by one would take at least three or four hours.
That Ling Jiu was clearly trying to screw him over!
“Monument-Splitting Palm,” “Blazing Fire Fist,” “Tianfeng Thirteen Swords,” “Swift Wind Leaf-Chasing Steps,” “Red Sun Technique”…
Starting from the first book on the first row, Ling Xiao’s eyes blurred from the sheer volume. Judging a manual’s tier from just a few pages was nearly impossible.
This was too hard!
Was there some trick to it?
