She stood, brushing dust from her dress, her face still tinged red.
"You could have acted like a gentleman," she said coldly, glaring down at him. "Instead, you behaved like an indecent pervert."
"The next time I see you, I'll make sure to cripple you," she snapped, her voice full of icy disdain.
She turned to leave with a huff, but Meng Xuan looked up at the fading golden-red sun in the sky and groaned in pain.
"Fiend monk, you said there would be a lot of benefits to enjoy… but you didn't tell me it would nearly cost me my life!" he grumbled, clutching his ribs.
"The pain's totally worth it, master," the monk's voice echoed with maddening cheer in his mind.
Meng Xuan let out a long sigh. "Seems so..." he muttered. Despite everything, those fleeting moments of warmth he'd felt earlier surfaced in his mind.
As she walked away, he called out in desperation, "Step-sister! Won't you help me? I'm temporarily crippled right now!"
She stopped and turned, scoffing. "I would rather help a stray dog."
"But you attacked me first—without reason!" he shouted back, clearly putting all the blame on her.
"That—!" She hesitated, biting her lip. Then, slowly, she walked back toward the fallen Meng Xuan.
She crouched in front of him, raising her palm.
Meng Xuan flinched, bracing for another slap. But instead of striking him, her hand paused mid-air.
"I came to warn you," she said quietly. "Cut any family ties between us."
He blinked in confusion. But her palm began to glow faintly, and a gentle warmth spread through his body. A pure energy flowed into him, washing away the pain and mending his internal injuries.
"She's… healing me?" he whispered, astonished.
"She's trying to heal you," the fiend monk confirmed inside his head.
As his strength returned bit by bit, Meng Xuan looked up at her with gratitude.
"I'm not doing this for you," she snapped, turning her face away. "I just don't want to be seen with a half-dead fool like you."
He chuckled weakly. "Alright, alright. I get it."
"If I ever hear you call me 'step-sister' again, I'll cripple you permanently," she added.
"How dare you threaten a boy?" Meng Xuan muttered with a smirk. But even with the sting of her palm still lingering on his cheek from earlier, he didn't retaliate.
"Fine. I'll never call you step-sister," he said, wheezing slightly. "I'll act like I don't even know you."
After a moment, Meng Xuan slowly stood up, wincing. "Thank you, Miss Yue," he said softly, bowing his head.
She eyed the pouch in his hand.
"Are you planning to sell that free pass card?" she asked, her voice flat but curious.
He glanced down at the pouch, then looked back up with a smile. "No. I have a purpose for entering the Demonic Zone."
Meng Xuan dusted off his robes as he walked beside her, a little more composed now that his injuries were healed—though not without a sore ego.
"I hope Miss Yue can understand," he said in a low tone. "Since you're also planning to enter the Demonic Zone, why not join my guild?"
"There's no need," she replied curtly, her tone sharp and distant. "I don't need to be dominated by someone, especially not from you."
He let out a nervous chuckle, sensing the lingering anger in her voice. She's still mad... can't blame her, he thought. But I need to get this right. Going to the Demonic Zone might determine my future.
Trying to shift the mood, he offered, "What about buying my refined demonic core? Thirty spirit shards. It's a fair deal."
He stepped in front of her to block her path.
She halted, narrowed her eyes, and stared at him before firmly shaking her head.
"Twenty spirit shards. That's all I can give."
Meng Xuan scratched the back of his neck. "There's no weighing machine here, but based on estimation, it's worth at least thirty. Maybe even a bit more."
"That still doesn't match your asking price," she replied, expression unmoved.
He sighed. "Exactly why I'm lowering it to thirty. Just for you."
The two began to haggle, their footsteps falling into rhythm as they walked toward their shared residence.
---
Monetary Conversion in This World:
100 spirit shards = 1 soulcoin
100 soul coins = 1 heaven sigil.
100 heaven sigils = 1 sovereign tear.
The sovereign tear—the highest form of money, used only by nobles and the royal family.
Meng Xuan stepped into his room, a faint trace of happiness on his face. After haggling back and forth, the price had been finalized at twenty-five spirit shards. Xiaolong had helped him sell his gain from the first demonic zone he had entered. Summing up all his earnings, he now had thirty-five spirit shards.
He planned to use the money to buy a spatial ring. A small-sized one would suffice for now—it wouldn't hold a full-grown wolf, but it was enough for his mission.
His room had the basic necessities every student needed: a bed with a blanket, a reading desk, and a lighted lamp. The floor was covered in a red carpet. The only thing he lacked was enough food supplies, but that issue would soon be resolved. His bastard father had promised him a monthly allowance of forty spirit shards.
Meng Xuan could also sell the academy's weekly refined demonic core—five units of valuable resources. Though he wanted to reject the monthly allowance from his father—especially since he was technically no longer part of the Meng Clan—he couldn't help it. Life was harsh, and money was necessary. Subconsciously, he fiddled with the free pass card in his hand, unaware of the dangers slowly approaching him.
Inside the academy's principal office, the video footage of the recent weekly tournament played back through the aid of a special device.
A middle-aged man sat behind a desk littered with scrolls and files, eyes sharp as he watched the screen intently. This was the principal of the academy. Beside him, Teacher Bai stood silently, watching as well, though his interest paled in comparison to the principal's keen focus.
"The battle between Meng xuan and Jiao San… how did that even come to be?" the principal murmured.
The video ended and began to replay itself. The principal shifted his gaze toward Teacher Bai.
"Bai Qi, what do you think about that last fight?"
"That Meng xuan boy is a good martial artist," Teacher Bai commented. "If Jiao San had just paid a little more attention, he might have won. He was only defeated because he underestimated his opponent."
The principal gave a slight nod, accepting Bai's words.
"This Meng xuan kid… it's a pity," the principal sighed. "No holy force. With the academy's nurturing and his own hard work, he might have gone far. He has potential."
"Sir," Teacher Bai hesitated, "Meng Xuan might face trouble from the Jiao Clan. Should we protect him in the name of the academy?"
"No," the principal said flatly. "The academy isn't ready to invite trouble from the Jiao Clan. Protecting a boy with no holy force… it's not worth it."
He turned his attention back to the video, which was still playing on loop. A thoughtful glint passed through his eyes.
"A new twist might unfold in the next weekly tournament…"