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## Chapter Eight: The Web Tightens
The Outer Court, already a crucible of ambition, felt its tension coil tighter after Yan Zhen's rapid breakthrough to **Body Tempering, Stage 5**. While not unheard of, his pace was certainly exceptional, drawing quiet murmurs and envious glances from other disciples. Many had spent months, even years, stuck at earlier stages. Yan Zhen, oblivious to the subtle shifts in perception, was simply thrilled by his progress and eager to apply his newfound strength.
"This is amazing, Lin Feng!" Yan Zhen exclaimed one morning, his voice echoing in their small room as he practiced a rudimentary punching form. His fists cut through the air with noticeably more power. "I can feel the qi flowing so much smoother! I bet I can master that 'Swift Crane Step' now and show it to Qing Yu!"
Lin Feng smiled, a picture of supportive friendship. "I knew it, Zhen! You're a natural! You'll be flying before I can even walk without tripping over my own feet!" He'd already rehearsed his lines, ensuring his "struggles" contrasted sharply with Yan Zhen's innate talent, further solidifying his own 'lesser but loyal' role. Secretly, Lin Feng continued to refine his **Spirit Condensation, Stage 1**, his true cultivation base as solid as a mountain. He was patiently waiting for the right moment to reveal higher levels, a carefully orchestrated unveiling that would always serve his larger agenda.
The "Swift Crane Step" manual Lin Feng had 'found' proved to be an excellent catalyst. Yan Zhen, with his raw talent and Lin Feng's subtle coaching, quickly picked up the footwork. He then, with characteristic directness, sought out Qing Yu during her training.
"Qing Yu!" Yan Zhen called out, rushing over, slightly out of breath. "Look! Lin Feng found this old manual, and I think it can make you even faster!" He then demonstrated the Swift Crane Step, his movements still a little unrefined but imbued with his powerful qi, making them surprisingly quick. "What do you think?"
Qing Yu watched with a faint surprise. Her analytical mind processed the footwork, recognizing its potential. She then glanced at Lin Feng, who stood a little apart, offering a modest, encouraging smile.
"This technique... it has merit," Qing Yu said, her voice thoughtful as she looked from Yan Zhen to Lin Feng. "Where did you find this, Lin Feng?"
Lin Feng stepped forward, shrugging playfully. "Oh, just rummaging through some old dusty books in the library. Most people probably just ignored it, but Zhen here thought it might be useful! He's always looking out for good stuff, even for others!" He made sure to credit Yan Zhen, while still subtly highlighting his own 'discoverer' role.
Qing Yu nodded slowly. "Thank you both. I will study it." Her eyes held a new flicker of interest in Lin Feng, a recognition of his quieter, perceptive nature that complemented Yan Zhen's directness. Lin Feng felt a quiet sense of satisfaction. *First seed planted. Admiration for the hero. Respect for the strategist.*
Yan Zhen, now more confident, started to interact with Qing Yu more frequently, often during shared chores or in their limited free time. Their conversations began to deepen, revolving around cultivation, the sect's structure, and their personal aspirations. Yan Zhen, with his open heart, admired Qing Yu's dedication and strong sense of justice. Qing Yu, in turn, found Yan Zhen's earnestness refreshing amidst the Outer Court's prevalent cynicism.
Lin Feng was always present during these interactions, a constant, unobtrusive shadow. He listened intently, subtly steering conversations, asking questions that would elicit more personal details from Qing Yu, or prompting Yan Zhen to share his innocent dreams. He reinforced Yan Zhen's 'good guy' image at every turn. He noticed the nascent spark forming between the two – a natural, unfolding connection – and ensured it stayed on track.
Meanwhile, the discontent among the less privileged outer disciples festered. The results of the Resource Scavenge Trial had ignited a resentment that wasn't easily extinguished. Shen Li, in particular, had become a walking storm cloud of bitterness. Lin Feng saw this as an opportunity.
"They're always doing it," Shen Li muttered one evening, watching a group of inner disciples leaving the main cultivation hall, a place forbidden to outer disciples. "They get all the best resources, the best teachers, while we're stuck here, scrubbing floors and getting laughed at."
Lin Feng put a hand on Shen Li's shoulder, his voice low and empathetic. "It sucks, Shen Li. It really does. You're just as talented as some of them, maybe even more so. But because you don't have a big family name or a powerful Elder backing you, you're invisible. It's a waste." He paused, letting the words sink in. "I heard some of the older outer disciples are talking about it... about how the sect is stifling our potential."
Shen Li's eyes flared. "What do you mean?"
"Just whispers," Lin Feng said dismissively, pulling his hand back. "About how if things don't change, a lot of good talent might just... leave. Or worse. But hey, probably just gossip, right?" He left the implication hanging, knowing Shen Li's desperate desire for recognition would seize upon it. *Give him an outlet for his anger. Point it at the system. Make him feel like part of something bigger than himself.*
A few days later, rumors began to spread about an upcoming 'Inner Sect Selection Tournament.' Unlike the Resource Scavenge Trial, this was a direct combat assessment, where outer disciples would face off against each other. The prize: a limited number of coveted Inner Disciple spots. The news sent a fresh wave of panic and intense training through the Outer Court. Everyone knew this was their make-or-break chance.
"A tournament!" Yan Zhen gasped, his eyes shining. "This is it, Lin Feng! Our real chance to prove ourselves! No more scavenging, just pure strength!"
Lin Feng felt a cold excitement. *This is it.* "Yeah, Zhen! This is where you shine! Your raw power is perfect for this!" He was already mentally running through the strengths and weaknesses of every outer disciple he'd observed, every potential rival Yan Zhen might face. He also knew some of the hidden techniques Yan Zhen would eventually master.
Qing Yu, upon hearing the announcement, grew even more focused in her training. She seemed to radiate a quiet intensity, her movements becoming sharper, more precise. She was a natural in combat.
Xiao Li, however, looked worried. She approached Yan Zhen and Lin Feng one afternoon, her guqin resting in her arms. "The tournament... it will be very fierce. Many disciples are pushing themselves too hard. Some are even using... less than honorable means to gain an edge." She glanced nervously around.
Yan Zhen frowned. "What do you mean, Xiao Li? Like what?"
Lin Feng interjected smoothly, "Oh, you know, just rumors, Zhen. Like some guys are taking risky cultivation pills that mess with your qi in the long run, or trying to trick others into training with them to learn their weaknesses. Nasty stuff, really. But don't worry about it. We'll stick to our honest training, right?" He gave Yan Zhen a confident smile, but his words were meant to subtly warn Xiao Li, and to reinforce Yan Zhen's 'pure' path.
Xiao Li nodded, clearly relieved by Lin Feng's calm explanation. "Yes. Honesty is best." She looked at Yan Zhen, her gaze full of quiet concern. "Just... please be careful, Yan Zhen."
"I will!" Yan Zhen promised, thumping his chest. "We both will! We're gonna make it to Inner Disciple, just you wait!"
Lin Feng watched the dynamic, satisfied. Yan Zhen, the direct, powerful hero, now had another beautiful woman to inspire him. Xiao Li, the gentle healer, trusted him as a sensible, supportive ally. And Shen Li, the angry pawn, was festering, ready to be deployed. The chess pieces were perfectly aligned. The Inner Sect Selection Tournament was not just a trial of strength; it was a grand stage for Lin Feng to orchestrate Yan Zhen's rise, while subtly weaving his own web of influence. The game was truly about to get interesting.
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