Name

The middle-aged cultivator pressed his saber, intending to draw closer.

Lin Langyao, however, would never allow it.

Veins pulsed on his forehead, and the hand gripping his sword trembled incessantly, yet he ultimately mustered every ounce of his strength, sweeping the opponent’s saber aside with a single thrust.

The middle-aged cultivator took a step back. “Who are you?” he demanded.

Lin Langyao retorted, irked, “I should be asking you who you are!”

Malice contorted the middle-aged cultivator’s face. “If you don’t want to die, get out of my way!”

Lin Langyao had no intention of meddling, yet the child clung to him relentlessly.

When he took a step, the child trailed behind him like a persistent shadow, impossible to shake off.

He reached back to grab them, but the child merely played hide-and-seek.

The middle-aged cultivator, lacking patience for their game of chase, raised his saber and, without a word, attacked, aiming to cut down Lin Langyao along with the child.

Lin Langyao reacted swiftly, narrowly dodging the blow, but the frigid saber qi still ripped through his clothes.

He froze, his gaze fixed on the torn fabric on his arm, a mere inch from his flesh.

His eyes narrowed as he looked up at the middle-aged cultivator opposite him, his voice suddenly chilling, laced with dangerous intent. “You’re courting death…”

He was enraged.

Unaware that he had provoked a former king of chaos, the middle-aged cultivator added fuel to the fire, telling Lin Langyao, “No, I think *you’re* courting death.”

Lin Langyao suddenly turned ruthless, kicking away the child who was still clinging to his waist and legs.

He adjusted his grip on his sword with a flick of his wrist, then charged at the middle-aged cultivator, his sword flashing like emerald light.

Lin Langyao had always been audacious.

His path as a sword cultivator was as unbridled and sharp-edged as his own personality—reckless, aggressive, and utterly fearless.

Even now, no different from an ordinary mortal who had yet to embark on the path of cultivation, he dared to challenge a Foundation Establishment cultivator with his sword.

Anyone witnessing it would undoubtedly call him foolhardy, and even the child, sprawled on the ground, stared wide-eyed.

Perhaps the middle-aged cultivator hadn’t expected him to charge directly.

He hastily raised his arm to block, only to realize that the sword blade that struck him lacked the force he anticipated, carrying not a hint of spiritual energy.

The middle-aged cultivator smirked, then swept his saber horizontally with full force, sending Lin Langyao flying.

Lin Langyao rolled across the ground, a fine cut from the saber qi now marring his face.

He grabbed the child, who was still sprawled nearby, and hissed, “What are you gawking at? Get moving!”

The child snapped back to reality, their eyes wide with terror, and gripped Lin Langyao’s hand. “You can’t beat him, fellow cultivator—”

The child had initially used Lin Langyao as a shield, believing the middle-aged cultivator wouldn’t harm an innocent bystander.

They hadn’t expected him to be so deranged as to try and kill Lin Langyao as well.

Feeling they had caused harm, the child was now filled with remorse. “Why don’t you leave? If he’s going to kill anyone, it should be me!”

Lin Langyao stared at them with an expression that clearly said, ‘You idiot,’ utterly speechless. “Does he look like he only wants to kill you now? Besides, even if he didn’t try to kill me, I still want to beat him up.”

As he spoke, another saber strike descended upon them.

Lin Langyao, quick as lightning, first kicked the child, sending them tumbling away, then threw himself in the opposite direction.

Dust billowed behind him, and a deep saber mark appeared on the ground.

‘What a nuisance,’ Lin Langyao thought.

‘This was clearly a mere minion.

In the past, a simple flick of my finger would have sent such an insignificant character scurrying away, scared out of their wits.

Yet now, having lost my cultivation, I am forced to flail desperately and respond awkwardly.

If anyone who knew Lin Langyao in his prime were present, they would surely remark, ‘A tiger brought low, preyed upon by dogs (TL Note: A Chinese idiom describing a powerful person losing their status and being bullied by inferiors).’

‘But it doesn’t matter,’ he mused. ‘I am a sword cultivator.’

Even without his cultivation, he still possessed his swordsmanship.

“Is that all you’ve got?” Lin Langyao spat out a mouthful of dust, sneering. “You’re supposedly a Foundation Establishment cultivator, yet you can’t even defeat a mortal.

How dare you show your face and embarrass yourself?

A pig with a saber strapped to its back could cut more effectively than you.

What are you?

You’re worse than a pig.”

The flesh on the middle-aged cultivator’s face twitched, his complexion visibly reddening. “Today, I’ll slaughter you like a hog!” With that, he charged forward, a flurry of saber qi flying wildly.

Lin Langyao, his movements significantly slower without his cultivation, soon accumulated several more cuts.

Yet, he remained completely unfazed, his eyes locked onto his opponent’s body.

Finally, at a certain moment, he caught the middle-aged cultivator’s hesitation—a falter in his spiritual energy.

Lin Langyao suddenly tilted his head, and in the midst of their exchange, he spun around.

The middle-aged cultivator froze, realizing Lin Langyao had vanished.

He understood that Lin Langyao must have circled behind him.

Just as he was about to turn, a cold sweat suddenly broke out.

A cold, gleaming longsword rested against his neck.

Lin Langyao stood behind the middle-aged cultivator, blood streaking his cheek, and chuckled chillingly. “Let’s see who’s being slaughtered like a hog now.”

The middle-aged cultivator’s throat bobbed.

Though held captive, he still brazenly challenged, “You wouldn’t dare kill me.”

“How peculiar,” Lin Langyao remarked. “I’ve defeated countless people, yet no one has ever been as confident as you.”

As he spoke, he pressed the sword down, immediately drawing a bloody line across the middle-aged cultivator’s neck.

The middle-aged cultivator began to panic slightly, abandoning all pretense of dignity, and hastily cried out, “I am from Lu Clan Manor! How dare you!”

He had expected Lin Langyao to be intimidated by his identity.

Indeed, Lin Langyao paused, stunned, and asked in disbelief, “What did you say?

Where are you from?”

The middle-aged cultivator declared, “The Lu Clan of Jiuyuan, of course! Are there any other Lu Clans in Jiuyuan?

If you know what’s good for you—”

Before he could finish, his eyes suddenly bulged.

The hilt of a sword struck the back of his head, and he collapsed to the ground with a thud, unconscious.

‘It’s precisely you, Jiuyuan Lu Clan, that I’m striking.’

Lin Langyao lowered his raised hand and turned to look at the child, who was by now utterly stunned. “How did you get involved with the Lu Clan?”

The child stammered, “They wanted me to go to Lu Clan Manor for treatment.

I—I refused, so they put a sack over my head.

I barely escaped, only to be chased down by this man…”

Lin Langyao stroked his chin. ‘Fate had indeed brought adversaries together on a narrow path,’ he thought.

“Do you have any magical treasures on you?

Preferably something like a rope, to tie this fellow up first.”

The child fumbled with their clothes, then pulled a bundle of rope from their sleeve and handed it to Lin Langyao. “This is what I use to tie up patients.”

“…You treat patients.

Why do you tie them up?”

The child sighed with a world-weary air. “I don’t want to, but as a physician, you always encounter a few uncooperative patients, you know.”

“…”

Lin Langyao quickly bound the cultivator, then tossed him into the spirit eagle’s (TL Note: 灵雕 – A type of spiritual beast, resembling a large eagle or roc, often used for transport or as a guard.) stable for the spirit eagle to watch over.

He clapped his hands, then turned to the child. “I have a grudge with the Lu Clan.

Catching this one allowed me to vent a bit.

And I won’t hold it against you for using me as a shield.”

The child’s expression was sheepish, a sense of guilt evident.

They said to Lin Langyao, “Fellow cultivator, I’ve truly caused you trouble.

I have no way to repay this kindness, but allow me to first treat your wounds.”

Lin Langyao’s clothes were tattered and torn from the cuts.

He wasn’t particular, so he simply sat on the ground and allowed the child to apply medicine.

The child’s technique was surprisingly skilled; they pulled out numerous bottles and jars from their sleeve, clearly an experienced practitioner.

As they applied the medicine, the child prattled on, claiming to be from Jiuyuan, surnamed Zhou, given name Shaoyang.

They had been practicing medicine in the northern lands with their master since childhood, for over a century…

Zhou Shaoyang was applying medicine to the cut on Lin Langyao’s face when Lin Langyao’s expression suddenly twitched.

He gritted his teeth. “You said… how old are you now?”

Zhou Shaoyang replied, “I’m about one hundred and fifty or sixty years old now.

When I was little, my master fed me random elixirs, which caused me to reach Foundation Establishment prematurely, hence this appearance…”

“One hundred and fifty or sixty years old!” Lin Langyao’s voice rose, and he began grinding his molars. “And you were chased and beaten by a mere Foundation Establishment cultivator!”

Lin Langyao, who was roughly the same age, had long since beaten up cultivators from every major sect in the cultivation world.

This ‘kid’ actually got a sack put over their head by a Foundation Establishment cultivator?

It was an absolute disgrace to the cultivation world!

Zhou Shaoyang finally detected the change in Lin Langyao’s tone.

A little embarrassed, and a little wronged, their tender young face crumpled. “I’m a medical cultivator!

I only save people, I don’t kill them, unlike you sword cultivators.

This—this can’t be blamed on me, can it…?”

“You can tell I’m a sword cultivator?”

“Your cultivation was dispersed, wasn’t it?” Zhou Shaoyang said, casually placing their hand on Lin Langyao’s wrist to feel his pulse.

They nodded. “I found it strange earlier when I saw you wearing the Withered-Bloom Nine Breaths Pill (TL Note: A type of medicinal pill that can help stabilize one’s life force, often used after severe injury or cultivation deviation.), but then I thought about it.

Although you have no spiritual energy, your steps aren’t as light and unsteady as an ordinary person’s.

Judging by your appearance, you must have suffered a great injury recently.

Combined with your aura when you held the sword, I could deduce that you are a sword cultivator who lost their cultivation.

But, who did you offend to warrant such a vicious attack…?”

Lin Langyao let out a long sigh. “Let’s not talk about it.

It was all my own doing.”

Zhou Shaoyang felt a strange pity for him. “You must have been a very powerful cultivator before.

In your current state, although the medicinal treatment seems to be working well, I don’t know how far you can go on your future cultivation path.”

“Is that so?” Lin Langyao smiled indifferently.

He was born handsome; had he not been so arrogant and unruly in his daily life, he would surely have been someone admired by many.

At this moment, a casual, lazy smile played on his lips, revealing a rare youthful charm that left Zhou Shaoyang momentarily stunned.

Then they heard Lin Langyao say, “I’m not worried at all.

I will become the strongest under heaven again.”

Zhou Shaoyang suddenly snapped out of it, shivering slightly. “Shh! You can’t say that!

Be careful, lest *that one* hears you!”

Lin Langyao asked curiously, “Which one?”

“Just… *that one*…” Zhou Shaoyang mouthed the words, pointing skyward, clearly frantic that Lin Langyao didn’t understand. “…The one from Qintian Peak!”

“…”

Lin Langyao was speechless for a moment, then a thought suddenly struck him, and he chuckled mischievously. “What’s there to say?

It’s just Lin Langyao of Qintian Peak.

Who doesn’t know his name?

Do you know what *my* name is?”

Zhou Shaoyang humbly asked, “What is your name?”

Lin Langyao cleared his throat and declared, “Listen closely.

My name is—”

“Lin… Lang… Yao.”

“…………………………….”

Zhou Shaoyang’s face turned pale.

They stared at him for several seconds, then their eyes rolled back, and they collapsed to the ground with a thud.

After scaring the unfortunate young medical cultivator unconscious, Lin Langyao dusted off his sleeves and rose, intending to return to his master and tell Wen Chaoxuan about his encounter with the Lu Clan.

However, as he reached the door of the side room, he suddenly remembered something: he had left perfectly fine, but had returned with torn clothes and injuries all over his body.

He had no idea how to explain it to Wen Chaoxuan…

****

*Knock, knock.*

Two knocks echoed.

Wen Chaoxuan, who was meditating with closed eyes inside the room, responded, “Enter.”

Lin Langyao pushed the door open, but then lingered suspiciously at the threshold, shuffling his feet for a long moment before stepping inside.

His voice, clearly betraying a guilty conscience, spoke, “Master, I need to tell you something.

Please don’t get angry first…”

Wen Chaoxuan’s eyes snapped open, and he turned his head.

He saw Lin Langyao standing at the doorway, looking utterly disheveled as if he had just escaped a disaster, rubbing his hands together with an embarrassed smile.

For a moment, Wen Chaoxuan felt that his Dao Heart, cultivated over hundreds of years, was on the verge of collapsing.

Lin Langyao’s face was plastered with a fawning expression.

Seeing Wen Chaoxuan’s look, the foot he had just stepped inside with retracted.

He said with utmost sincerity, “Perhaps… I should go downstairs and hide for a bit?

I’ll come back up after you’ve calmed down?”

Wen Chaoxuan: “……………………”