Waking up to the sound of raised voices wasn’t the best of wake-up calls.

  As I groggily got out of bed, I noticed that Wei Lin was already up, he was standing by the window with a concerned look on his face.

  “What’s going on?” I asked, reaching for my outer robe.

  “Some young master throwing his weight around.”

  I joined him at the window.

  In the courtyard below, a crowd had already gathered, drawn in by the noise.

  At the centre, a young man in elaborate silver-tripped robes marked with the Xiao Clan crest stood with his arms crossed over his chest. Around him stood a group of what looked like attendants.

  “That’s Xiao Feng,” Wei Lin explained before I could even ask. “He’s the third son of the Xiao Clan’s fourth branch. He’s known for his…forceful negotiations.”

  The unlucky target of the arrogant young master’s attention was a younger cultivator in plain brown robes. The star mark on his sleeve identified him as a disciple from one of the smaller sects, the White Star Sect, if I remembered correctly. They were barely worth mentioning in most cultivation circles, which meant they were a perfect punching bag for someone like Xiao Feng.

  “You dare claim your sect’s spirit herbs are equal to my Xiao Clan’s?” The arrogance in the youth’s voice could be heard clearly across the courtyard. “A third-rate sect like yours should know its place!”

  “Our herbs are grown with traditional methods that were passed down through nine generations,” the White Star disciple replied, standing his ground despite the slight tremor running through his hands.

  Before I could hear the young master’s response, our door opened.

  Wei Lin and I both tensed.

  We let out a sigh of relief when we saw it was only Lin Mei.

  “I heard the commotion,” she said, looking troubled. “That disciple... his technique for growing Winter Frost Grass is actually quite innovative. I saw his samples yesterday."

  “Innovative or not,” Wei Lin said quietly, “he should have known better than to compete with a Xiao Clan merchant group."

  The crack of flesh striking flesh drew our attention back to the scene.

  Xiao Feng had backhanded the disciple, sending him stumbling back.

  I looked around to see if anyone was going to stop this, but the way station guards were looking everywhere except where there was trouble.

  It was clear that they knew the protocol when it came to dealing with such “disputes” – pretend not to see anything.

  “We can’t just,” Lin Mei started heading to the door.

  “Wait,” I caught her arm, shaking my head.

  “But—”

  “Look over there,” I nodded towards a figure at the edge of the crowd.

  It was a young man in simple but well-made robes, his hand rested casually on a sword hilt.

  Even though his qi signature was carefully masked, there was something about his bearing that caught my attention. The way he watched the scene, the controlled anger in his stance, could he be...

  “What an amateur,” Wei Lin muttered, following my gaze. “He’s going to—”

  “How dare you!” The sword-bearing cultivator stepped forward. “Bullying a fellow cultivator over mere business? Have you no shame?”

  “And who are you?” Xiao Feng turned, his expression a mix of amusement and disdain.

  “I’m Li Yuan, disciple of the Flowing Stream Sect.” The young man’s voice carried that particular tone I’d come to recognize – absolute confidence backed by either tremendous power or tremendous foolishness. “And I cannot stand by while you abuse your position.”

  “Flowing Stream Sect?” Xiao Feng laughed. “At least the White Star Sect knows its herbs. What does a sect of river-watchers know of anything?”

  “How about I show you?” Li Yuan replied, drawing his sword in one smooth motion.

  The crowd quickly backed away, forming a rough circle around the two cultivators.

  I noticed how the guards shifted their position, they still looked as disinterested as before, but they made sure they had clear view of what was going on. Whether that was because they didn’t want any casualties at all or they only wanted to be ready in case the young master needed help, I wasn’t completely sure.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Li Yuan moved first.

  “Thousand Ripples Sword Art!”

  His blade traced patterns that reminded me of sunlight on water.

  The technique was genuinely impressive; each strike flowed into the next.

  “Pathetic,” Xiao Feng sneered, raising his hand. “Stone Wall Palm!”

  The sword strikes splashed against the wall like waves against a cliff.

  Neither gave up ground.

  “Not bad,” Wei Lin murmured. “The Flowing Stream sect’s techniques are known for wearing down defenses over time. If he can maintain the pressure...”

  “Flowing Stream’s Third Form!” Li Yuan pressed his advantage, his sword moving faster. “Cascading Rapids!”

  The attack pattern changed, becoming more aggressive.

  Xiao Feng stood there as strikes rained down from multiple angles.

  The Stone Wall Palm technique began to crack.

  Realising that his defence wasn’t going to hold out for much longer, Xiao Feng abandoned defence for a single powerful attack.

  “Mountain Crushing Strike!”

  Earth qi covered his arm as it charged forward in what looked like a devastating attack.

  “Flowing Stream’s Ultimate Technique - River Cuts Mountain!”

  Li Yuan’s sword technique shifted again, transforming from multiple strikes into a single perfect cut.

  The blade found the exact point where Xiao Feng’s qi was weakest, sending him flying through the air.

  The young master landed hard among the market stalls. His elaborate robes were torn, and blood trickled from where the sword’s qi had cut his chest.

  The crowd was silent.

  No one had expected the Xiao Clan’s young master to lose.

  And especially not in such a one-sided beatdown.

  Li Yuan stood calmly, his hand still on his sword.

  This was exactly the kind of scene that usually preceded a young master’s dramatic revelation of hidden power or...

  Xiao Feng pushed himself up, wiping blood from his mouth.

  Then, to the surprise of everyone, he started laughing.

  “Oh crap,” I muttered, recognising that kind of laughter never meant anything good.

  “Humph, do you actually think,” Xiao Feng’s voice was eerily calm, “that I would travel alone?"

  Before Li Yuan could respond, the air suddenly became heavy with killing intent that surpassed the Qi Condensation Realm.

  Two figures materialised from nowhere.

  The cloud-marked robes meant that they were members of the Xiao Clan, but these ones weren’t simple attendants, they radiated power that made my skin crawl.

  “Elemental Realm,” Wei Lin breathed. “They’re both in the Elemental Realm!"

  The combined auras pressed down on Li Yuan, forcing him to grit his teeth as he tried to stay standing.

  “You... you hide behind servants?” he barely managed to say. “Coward! Where is your pride as a cultivator?”

  “Pride?” Xiao Feng sneered. “Pride is for those who can afford it. Power is all that matters.”

  With that, he pointed at one of the servants.

  “Chang Li, teach him a lesson he will never forget."

  One of the Elemental Realm cultivators suddenly vanished.

  Li Yuan, who was in the middle of making some grand speech about justice and righteousness suddenly caught a backhand to the face.

  The blow sent him flying through several market stalls.

  I couldn’t help but wince at the sound of the impact.

  And with the way Li Yuan’s neck was bent, I was pretty sure we wouldn’t be seeing any dramatic comeback from him.

  “Get rid of the corpse,” Xiao Feng ordered, brushing dust from his robes. “And bring me that sword.”

  The servant nodded, raising his hand.

  A ball of pure white fire formed in his palm.

  This wasn’t regular fire.

  This was spiritual flame hot enough to incinerate the flesh and soul of lower-ranked cultivators.

  With a look of disdain, the servant flicked his fingers.

  The flame engulfed Li Yuan’s broken form.

  Nothing remained except ash.

  I sighed.

  Even in cultivation novels, it was hard to come back from having both your body and soul reduced to nothing.

  Poor guy.

  I didn’t expect to see him ever again.

  Around us, the way station was already returning to its normal routine.

  The way everyone was acting was as if nothing had happened.

  The guards were back at their posts, once again looking bored.

  Merchants were already setting up replacement stalls.

  And at the centre of the marketplace, Xiao Feng stood, showing off his new sword to his followers.

  Li Yuan was already forgotten.

  “This is why we don’t interfere in young master business,” Wei Lin murmured.

  “I…I get it,” Lin Mei whispered. Her face was pale. “I just don’t think it’s right.”

  “Right doesn’t matter,” I said. The bitterness in my voice surprised even myself. “The world operates on power. Might makes right. Everything else is just pretty words we tell ourselves.”

  “That’s pretty cynical,” Wei Lin said, giving me an odd look. “I didn’t expect that coming from you.”

  I shrugged, not trusting myself to explain further.

  It’s not like I could tell them I’d read about scenes like this countless times.

  And that for every successful protagonist who rose from humble beginnings and shook the heavens, there were who knew how many nameless cultivators who died thinking they were the chosen one.

  “The problem is,” I said, choosing my words carefully, “a lot of cultivators speak and act like they’re the Son of Heaven and that their determination alone will be enough to overcome the power gap between cultivation levels.”

  “And that’s bad?” Lin Mei asked, scrunching her eyebrows.

  “It’s suicidal,” Wei Lin answered. “Life isn’t a story. Power is real, consequences are real and acting like you’re the hero of some grand tale is a good way to end up dead."

  “You either need to be completely insane or have the power to back it up if you want to act like that,” I agreed, glad that Wei Lin was with me on this. “And it’s always safer to assume those who act like that actually do have the power."

  “My father always says the successful merchant is the one who assumes everyone else is stronger, richer, and smarter than they appear,” Wei Lin added. “The same principle applies here."

  Lin Mei fell silent.

  Clearly, this was a lot for her to take in.

  “Anyway, we should get going,” Wei Lin pulled us away from the window. “I want to be far away from here as possible before the young master decides he needs more entertainment."

  As we gathered our things and prepared to leave, I couldn’t help but think about what we’d witnessed here today. And how a young talented cultivator like Li Yuan had given his life up for absolutely nothing.

  “Master, the boy’s qi showed signs of a recent breakthrough,” Azure explained. “He was likely drunk on the power the seventh stage of Qi Condensation offered. If you combine that with that legendary sword he carried, it’s a recipe for disaster.”

  Azure was right.

  Young cultivators often mistook new power for invincibility.

  And sometimes, that ended up being the last mistake they ever made.

  Even though Li Yuan’s story might have ended here, mine hadn’t.

  From now, I would be extra careful to avoid anything that led to an early grave.

  “A grave,” I shook my head, a bitter smile on my face. “Li Yuan didn’t even get to have that.”

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