14 Striking the Snake’s Vital Spot

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Lin Fengyang was a disciple of the Lost Trail Pavilion. He had entered the sect at thirteen, and after twelve years within its walls, he was still only at the fifth level of Qi Refining.

When his Four-Element Spiritual Root had been discovered, he had believed the world lay beneath his feet. From then on, immortals and mortals would be worlds apart; surely one day he would command the winds and clouds and earn everyone’s reverence.

Only after embarking on the path of cultivation did he learn that a Four-Element Spiritual Root was nothing remarkable in the cultivation world. Such talent was as common as blades of grass. With mediocre aptitude and insufficient diligence, he had muddled along until he became invisible within the sect.

No one listened when he spoke. He did the most work and received the worst treatment.

At some point, the annual period when the Lost Trail Pavilion accepted disciples became the day Lin Fengyang looked forward to most.

For that was when he was at his most impressive. He would stand watch at the sect’s entrance, bask in the flattery of mortals who had come to seek instruction, and indulge in a little senior-disciple authority.

This year, after finally waiting for the day he was assigned to guard the mountain gate, only a sparse handful of people arrived. It was not until the following day that he learned the truth: those who should have come the day before had taken the wrong road and lost an entire day before reaching the sect.

Apparently, the road sign had somehow been turned to point in the wrong direction. A disciple had been sent to turn it back, and that was the end of the matter. No one paid it any attention.

After all, everyone who had come to pay their respects had arrived in the end. They were merely a day late.

But Lin Fengyang cared.

Why had the sign been turned around? Why had the mistake occurred on the very day he looked forward to most each year?

Since his cultivation was getting him nowhere, he began visiting the road sign whenever he could, determined to uncover the culprit who had ruined his moment of glory.

But with people constantly coming and going, he had no idea who it could have been.

Some people passed the sign, but they were stronger than him.

Some people passed the sign, but they were richer than him.

Some people passed the sign, but they held more power than him.

…

Until one day, a woodcutter passed by the road sign.

Lin Fengyang made his move.

He would uphold the justice that belonged to him.

***

Lin Fengyang had risen early for once and was practicing his punches on the training grounds when a disciple with whom he had exchanged a few words came in from outside and asked, “Lin Fengyang, were you the one who punished a mortal for damaging the road sign two days ago?”

Why was he asking about this?

Over the past two days, Lin Fengyang had recounted his meritorious deed of defending the sect several times. But everyone around him had thought it a trivial matter. No matter how often he spoke of it, no one had spared him so much as a glance.

Had they finally remembered to praise him?

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Lin Fengyang nodded, unable to hide his pride. “That was me. I thought, how could we allow a mere mortal to offend the Lost Trail Pavilion? This—”

Before he could finish, the disciple seized him by the arm and dragged him outside.

“If it was you, then that’s settled. Someone outside is looking for you.”

As they walked, Lin Fengyang learned the reason. A female cultivator had arrived at the gate, claiming that she was the one who had turned the road sign around. Lin Fengyang had injured the woodcutter by mistake, and she wanted to confront him face-to-face.

“She’s a cultivator?” Lin Fengyang raised his voice to conceal his unease. He also stopped walking and refused to go any farther.

Had he misjudged the situation and injured someone he should not have touched? Could that woodcutter have a high-level cultivator among his relatives, someone who had come to avenge him?

“She claims to be from the Carefree Sect, but she doesn’t seem to have entered the path of cultivation yet. She has a mortal body.”

“She’s a mortal? Then I’ll go meet her and ask why she dared to commit such an act of contempt against our sect.”

The Carefree Sect was far less powerful than the Lost Trail Pavilion and had only a handful of disciples. Besides, the person who had come to confront him was merely a mortal. There was nothing to fear.

Even if he had struck the wrong person, what could a confrontation accomplish?

A mere mortal had no right to set foot on Lin Fengyang’s head.

After weighing the advantages and disadvantages, Lin Fengyang once again lifted his chin and puffed out his chest. Filled with confidence, he quickened his pace toward the culprit who had made him gnash his teeth in fury.

***

“Are you the one who severely injured the woodcutter two days ago?” Cui Huai asked, looking at the utterly ordinary male cultivator who had just come out.

“That was me. I asked the woodcutter whether he had done it. He didn’t deny it, so I gave him a small punishment as a warning.”

Whether the woodcutter had truly failed to deny it, or whether he had simply been given no chance to do so, only Lin Fengyang knew. Well, the woodcutter knew too—but how could the word of a mere mortal be taken seriously?

Cui Huai had no patience for the nonsense Lin Fengyang was about to spout. Now that she had confirmed he was the one, she drew her sword.

The blade slid from its sheath and pointed directly at the male cultivator’s face.

“Since you declared war, I have come to answer your challenge.”

Lin Fengyang was baffled. “When did I ever declare war on you?”

“You mistook the woodcutter for the person who turned the road sign and injured him. Now that you know it was me, do you not intend to fight me as well?”

So she had decided to play the hero for a mere mortal. But anyone who wished to do so ought to understand their own strength first. Lin Fengyang was confident he could subdue this female cultivator, who possessed not the slightest trace of spiritual power, in a single move.

He was not particularly skilled with a sword, but the chance to exchange a few blows with such a beautiful female cultivator did not come often. Why refuse?

As he infused his sword with spiritual power and raised it, Lin Fengyang was already imagining how she would soon kneel and beg for mercy. What posture should he adopt when she wept and pleaded? What expression would make him appear both magnanimous and overwhelmingly powerful?

The two swords met.

In an instant, Lin Fengyang’s fantasies shattered. His face was left with nothing but shock and terror.

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She… she had no spiritual power, did she not?

Why were his sword, his hand, and even his entire body trembling beneath her seemingly effortless strike?

Cui Huai felt no pride at defeating him. There was nothing to boast about in overcoming a piece of trash with such a twisted heart. When dealing with people like him, she knew exactly where to strike.

She gave a light, disdainful laugh. “Is that the extent of your ability?”

With her second strike, Cui Huai’s swordsmanship forced Lin Fengyang down onto one knee.

“How dare you lecture others?”

With her third strike, Lin Fengyang collapsed onto the ground, his sword clattering beside him.

“You are nothing special. You are no different from a mortal.”

It had been a sword fight, yet he had actually dropped his sword. He had lost utterly and been stripped of every shred of dignity.

His eyes bloodshot, he scrambled to his feet and roared, “Why are you bullying me? You’re a mortal—what gives you the right to bully me? I’m simply not skilled with the sword. My boxing is excellent! If you have the courage, put down your sword!”

He immediately charged forward with a punch that split the air.

Cui Huai did not use her sword. She met his fist with one palm, dispersing its force, then seized his wrist and twisted it with deft strength. The boxing technique he had taken such pride in could not be brought forth in the slightest. After all, he could not even keep his fist clenched.

She cruelly laid out the truth. “Remember this. At your level, do not go around telling people that you are good at boxing.”

With that, she had no desire to prolong the fight. She withdrew her techniques and turned to leave.

Lin Fengyang stood rooted to the spot. At some point, a crowd of disciples had gathered around the entrance, all of them watching the contest.

He had dreamed of being seen, of being valued, of having a sense of presence.

Now he had everyone’s attention—but only because a mortal who had not even entered the path of cultivation had ground him beneath her feet.

The disciples’ mouths opened and closed. Were they discussing his defeat? Their faces held smiles. Were they laughing at him?

At that moment, Lin Fengyang’s world fell silent. The only thing within his sight was Cui Huai’s retreating back.

Kill her.

Only by killing her could he rise from this humiliation.

Lin Fengyang snatched up the sword from the ground and charged straight at Cui Huai’s heart, driving the blade toward it.

Die!