The Legend

11. You're Simply Too Weak [II]

The Samsara Branch, tucked on the western edge, had long been overlooked — always ranking dead last in the annual clan competitions. But this year, things felt different. Someone from the main clan had come to guide them, and hope had begun to bloom.

 

Nearly half a month had passed since the incident at the Martial Hall. Lao Yun had scarcely visited Lin Fen since — it seemed she'd thrown herself wholeheartedly into her training. Lin Fen, though still recuperating, hadn't slacked off either. Every night, the faint sound of grunting and dragging footsteps echoed from the back mountain. And Lao Chen was right there beside him, quiet and dedicated — two outcasts, pushing forward together.

 

One morning, the sun rose bright and golden. Lin Fen made his way to the Martial Hall, curious to see the genius everyone was talking about — Yun Yao. Fourteen years old, six meridians opened... it was a level most cultivators would never reach in a lifetime. The gap between them felt vast.

 

Inside the great hall, hundreds had gathered. At the center stood Yun Yao, surrounded by a throng of admirers. And there, among the crowd, were Lao Yun and Lao Chen. Lin Fen's heart gave a strange, uneasy lurch.

 

"Brother Yun Yao, does the Meridian Opening Realm work by sensing mental power and using it to force the meridians open?" someone asked eagerly.

 

"Precisely," Yun Yao answered, his voice smooth and confident. "Mental power is the foundation. Without it, even the strongest body is nothing. The eight extraordinary meridians must be cleared one by one — the Penetrating, Girdle, Yang Linking, Yin Linking, Yin Stepping, Yang Stepping, Conception, and Governing Vessels. The last two are the hardest by far. And for some... they may never open at all."

 

His words settled heavily on Lin Fen's chest. He knew those words were true — but the arrogance in Yun Yao's eyes stung like salt in a wound.

 

Then Lao Yun spotted him and waved happily. "Lin Fen! Over here! If you have any questions, ask Brother Yun Yao — he's a genius from the main clan!"

 

Her warmth toward him these days was undeniable — yet seeing the admiration in her eyes when she looked at Yun Yao made Lin Fen's chest feel tight. He forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.

 

Suddenly, a rough shove sent someone tumbling to the ground. It was Lao Chen.

 

"Useless little thing — what do you think you're doing here?" sneered a boy named Ni Yun, raising his hand to strike her.

 

Before he could, Lin Fen was there. Crack. The sound of the slap echoed through the hall. Ni Yun froze, his cheek flaming red, humiliated beyond words.

 

"You've been warned too many times," Lao Yun said sharply, stepping forward. "Leave her — now!"

 

Ni Yun glared daggers at Lin Fen, but dared not disobey. He stormed off, muttering curses under his breath.

 

Then Yun Yao spoke — cold and dismissive. "Pathetic. Is this what the branch has become? You can't even stand up for one another. A bunch of fools."

 

A murmur of outrage rippled through the crowd. Even Lao Yun's goodwill toward him curdled instantly.

 

Lin Fen turned to leave — he'd had enough. But Yun Yao wasn't done.

 

"Leaving so soon? Remember this — without strength, you're nothing but a joke."

 

Lin Fen stopped. "Strength isn't everything. Some things matter more."

 

Yun Yao laughed — a sharp, mocking sound. He stepped forward, and before anyone could react, he snatched Lao Chen by the wrist, pulling her close.

 

"Let her go!" Lin Fen lunged, striking with every ounce of strength he possessed — the strength of seven years of dragging stones up a mountain.

 

Yun Yao didn't even flinch. He caught Lin Fen's fist in mid-air with one hand, as easily as catching a falling leaf. With a casual sweep of his leg, he sent Lin Fen crashing backward, sliding meters across the stone floor.

 

Lying there, breath knocked from his lungs, Lin Fen looked up — and saw the cruelest smile he had ever seen.

 

"Three steps — kneel. Five steps — kowtow. Crawl to me. Or..." His fingers tightened around Lao Chen's trembling wrist. "That pretty face of yours might not stay so pretty much longer. One little mark... hehehe."

 

Lao Chen's face drained of all color. Tears spilled over, silent and desperate.

 

Lin Fen clawed his way up from the floor. His vision blurred — not from tears, but from a rising, burning rage that painted the edges of his world deep, terrifying red.

 

"Yun Yao... let her go!"