Hearing Ling Luo’s words, Ling Xiao felt a sudden strangeness. He was the top-ranked disciple of the Genius Hall, yet he hadn’t secured a spot in the Tianfeng Gala? That seemed far from normal.
This was a rare chance to spar and exchange skills. Ling Xiao had long struggled to find worthy opponents, and the Tianfeng Gala felt like it was custom-made for him.
He’d assumed his participation was certain, keeping close track of the dates. Now, to be told he wasn’t qualified?
That was absurd.
“Luo, don’t get upset yet. Tell your brother what’s going on,” Ling Xiao said, staying calm. He needed to understand the situation.
“I don’t know the specifics,” Ling Luo said, puffing up with frustration. “I heard from the senior brothers that the three Supreme Elders didn’t want you competing. They said your personality is too solitary and odd, that you stir up trouble, and they’re worried you’d cause problems. So they canceled your spot.”
Ling Luo added indignantly, “The clan leader wanted you to go, but he couldn’t oppose the three Supreme Elders just for you. So it’s settled.”
“Who got the spots?” Ling Xiao asked.
“Ling Chen, Ling Yun, Ling Yihang, and Ling Feng,” Ling Luo replied.
“Ling Chen and Ling Yihang are qualified, sure. But Ling Yun? What’s he worth? I saw it in that fight, his strength’s below even Senior Sister Yixue now. What right does he have? And Ling Feng, is he here for laughs?” Ling Xiao said, displeasure creeping in.
“Exactly, brother! After the clan competition, Ling Shuang, Ling Zhan, Ling Xiaopeng, and Ling Dapeng all went into secluded training and can’t join this time. Ling Feifan’s off gaining experience too. Even so, how does it fall to Ling Feng, who didn’t even make the finals?” Ling Luo griped.
“Hold on,” Ling Xiao said, signaling Ling Luo to pause. He glanced at the doorway.
Two figures entered: Ling Xiaotian, the clan leader, and Ling Wuhen.
“Clan Leader! Second Master!” Ling Xiao and Ling Luo bowed in greeting.
“You’ve heard about the Tianfeng Gala, I assume,” Ling Xiaotian said. “The slots were set by me and the three Supreme Elders. It’s final now, no changes. But to make up for your loss, I brought an entry-level top-tier martial technique today.”
Ling Xiaotian’s tone was decent, but he clearly didn’t grasp what Ling Xiao needed.
Ling Xiao craved battles with masters, not some beginner’s top-tier technique.
More than that, he wanted respect.
“Clan Leader, forgive my rudeness, but I don’t need this entry-level technique. Please take it back,” Ling Xiao said, meeting Ling Xiaotian’s eyes.
Though he liked Ling Xiaotian, as clan leader, failing at something so basic was disappointing. And he thought he could win loyalty like this?
Compared to Ling Wuhen, Ling Xiaotian was outdated.
“Father, you think an entry-level technique can gloss over this? Isn’t that too flippant? Has the Ling Clan become the Supreme Elders’ personal turf?” Ling Wuhen said, his own anger flaring.
He’d backed three people, yet only Ling Yihang made the cut. Ling Xiao and Ling Yixue were left out.
“Quiet!” Ling Xiaotian’s face darkened, his tone hardening. “It’s done, no more talk. Keep the technique or not, this is the clan’s decision. Like it or not, you’ll accept.”
His voice softened as he sighed, “Young man, I admire your spirit, but too much stubbornness breaks you. Learn some flexibility.”
With that, he shook his head and left.
Maybe Ling Xiaotian had a point.
But Ling Xiao couldn’t swallow it.
This was blatant unfairness, and he wouldn’t just take it lying down.
Ling Yun and Ling Feng were going to the Tianfeng Gala?
Heh, perfect. He had a grudge with Ling Shisan anyway. Time to act.
He kept this plan secret, not even telling Second Master Ling or Ling Yixue.
The next day, the Tianfeng Gala arrived.
The Ling Clan abruptly revised the participant list. The four names became Ling Chen, Ling Xiao, Ling Yixue, and Ling Yihang.
The reason was straightforward.
Last night, Ling Yun and Ling Feng were attacked within the clan, injured, and unable to compete.
Ling Shisan raged, but no clues emerged.
Ling Xiaotian suspected Ling Xiao, yet doubted he could outsmart Ling Shisan and cripple both Ling Yun and Ling Feng.
Witnesses said the assailant struck once, injuring both at once, then vanished.
No clear face, not even a hint of their movement.
Was Ling Xiao that strong?
Ling Xiaotian and the Supreme Elders weren’t convinced.
The matter was brushed aside for now.
Of course, Ling Xiao was behind it. He wasn’t some rigid rule-follower. If they wouldn’t play fair, neither would he.
On the event day, he joined Ling Yixue, Ling Yihang, Ling Chen, ten Genius Hall disciples for support, and the team leaders, Clan Leader Ling Xiaotian and Supreme Elder Ling Yin, heading to the city lord’s mansion.
On the way, Ling Yixue deliberately lagged behind with Ling Xiao.
“Junior Brother, that was you, right?” she asked.
“What do you think, Senior Sister?” Ling Xiao didn’t confirm, but a knowing smile said it all.
“Thanks. I wouldn’t have dared,” Ling Yixue said, unbothered by his actions.
Like Ling Xiao, she’d been recruited from outside, initially pledging loyalty to the Ling Clan with gratitude.
But over time, the clan’s deeds eroded that loyalty.
They wouldn’t turn against the Ling Clan now, but the old gratitude was gone. To them, it was just a training ground, no family ties left.
“No big deal. They broke the rules first,” Ling Xiao said with a grin. They’d reached the city lord’s mansion.
The Tianfeng City Lord’s Mansion sprawled widely, hosting the gala at its rear mountain.
The mountain featured pavilions and towers. The four major clans each claimed a tower with tea and snacks, first-class treatment.
Lesser families got pavilions, while some sat on the ground.
That was the status gap.
Ling Xiao, focused on training, knew little of the other three clans or their experts.
He did spare a few glances at the Li Clan.
Li Xingyun, whom he’d killed, was one of theirs.
“Ling Xiao, you seem curious about the Li Clan,” Ling Yihang said, pointing to their tower. “That’s Li Xinghui, ranked first among the Four Young Masters, outclassing Ling Feifan. He’s also the brother of the Li Xingyun you killed.”
“Oh?” Ling Xiao raised an eyebrow.
“You don’t seem convinced. I wouldn’t believe it either, but I saw it myself. Last year’s gala, Li Xinghui crushed the other three masters, one move each time,” Ling Yihang said earnestly, wary of Ling Xiao underestimating him.
“One move against Ling Feifan? Impressive,” Ling Xiao conceded, though inwardly he wasn’t fazed. Li Xinghui’s aura suggested a reckless, offense-heavy style, nothing too daunting.
