When the Fifth Elder entered, the fat man stumbled backward and crashed onto a shelf. He stood up immediately and hid behind the gambler, his fierceness disappearing.
The elder didn't glance at him. His eyes swept over the gambler and then the shopkeeper.
"My foolish disciple... a gambling addict... and a half-starved cub roaring at wolves." he said as crushed a silk tunic under his boot, "Gathered in a bastard's shop. How... quaint."
The gambler stepped back, "Fi…fifth…Elder, we…were only serving justice. Just like y—"
"LIKE ME? Hahaha!!" His laugh was sharp and cruel.
With a speed barely visible to the eye, he seized the gambler's wrist and twisted it until the bone creaked. "You reeking junkie, say 'justice' again. I'll skin you alive."
He released his grip on his wrist, then swept his gaze across the room. Clothes were scattered and baskets were overturned. Wuji hunched over, his eyes burning with fury.
The shopkeeper stood behind the counter, gripping a wooden staff tightly in both hands, clearly ready to strike.
Wuji remained silent, studying the elder with bloodshot eyes.
"So this is the Fifth Elder the village chief mentioned?" he thought.
The man wasn't just robust; he was a cliff face carved into human form. His open robe revealed a chest crosshatched with scars that resembled tally marks for the dead. His knuckles were as thick as hammerheads.
Wuji's eyes flicked to the fat man, who was now stiff and silent behind the gambler's back.
He had turned pale as a corpse. Sweat gleamed on his cheeks. His hands shook so violently that he looked like a pig dropped at the butcher's block.
"Why's he gaping like his dead parents just walked in?" Wuji thought.
The gambler's voice splintered like parched timber: "Fifth Elder! We were merely enforcing justice! He struck Ma Gou! Look at the blood! In his own shop!" He massaged his wrist, wincing. "It's so shameful! We had to—"
Wuji's laughter, a wet, bubbling sound that tore at his ribs stopped him from talking.
"Shameful...?" He spat blood onto Ma Gou's polished wooden floor. "Says the vulture picking at a bleeding boy. Three jackals hunting a cripple—" he coughed again speckling his chin with blood. "that's your justice? You vermin."
The Fifth Elder's gaze first landed on Wuji, then swept the ruined shop. Torn silks and splintered wood littered the floor, and the counter was smeared with the Ma Gou's blood, which looked like rust. Finally, the gaze settled on Wang Da.
"Wang Da! What did I tell you?" The words felt like a death sentence to Wang Da.
"T-to fetch your sword from the Stoneleaf Escort, Master," Wang Da said.
"And yet you're here. Wallowing in filth with addicts and shop rats." the fifth elder said
Wuji's mind sharpened, "So he is his master. If he sides with that bloated carcass, I'll be carried home in a bucket."
The Elder's hand flicked as he said, "Go. We settle this at the dojo."
Wang Da didn't bow. He fled stumbling over some baskets on the ground, his face full with terror.
The Elder turned to the gambler. "What are you looking at?" he asked. "You think I don't recognize the smell of greed when it walks into a room?"
The gambler stiffened. The words hit him like a cold wind.
"You speak of justice as if it's yours to wield. But justice doesn't follow men like you; it avoids them."
The gambler shrank back with his mouth half open, but no words came.
The elder's tone dropped further."You want to play righteous? Do it somewhere I'm not watching."
Then came the final line, slow and quiet but firm as stone:
"Leave. If I see you near my student again, I won't bother with words next time."
The gambler backed away and left, his eyes darting once more toward Wuji's pouch before he disappeared into the street.
The elder turned slightly and looked at Wuji.
"And you. What's your name?"
Wuji pressed a hand to his side and answered through clenched teeth.
"Yin Li."
The elder nodded once, then said, "Pay this man. Then come to me tonight. We'll begin your martial training."
Wuji blinked, confusion spreading across his face. That wasn't what he expected. Not in this hypocrisy-infested village.
He stared for a moment, uncertain, before the elder glanced over his shoulder and spoke again.
"Don't lump me in with those greedy bastards."
Wuji froze, and a sliver of heat crept into his cheeks. "He read me like a scroll, he might be different from the other corrupt elder, or maybe more corrupt," he thought.
Just then, Ma Gou stepped forward, puffing himself up like a toad before a storm.
"Fifth Elder! What about me?" he said, voice pitching higher. "That brat punched me in my own shop, ruined my wares, turned the place upside down! If this village still has laws, I demand justice!"
The elder didn't even stop walking. His voice came without him turning around.
"Ma Gou…" He paused just long enough to give the man hope.
"I know what kind of man you are and for, Justice? You're not worth the spit it takes to say the word."
Ma Gou didn't say a word. He just stood there, staring as if he'd been slapped by the heavens.
By the time he found his voice again, the Fifth Elder had disappeared.
Wuji turned and slowly pulled out the coins, dropping them on the counter.
Then, he gathered his things. He cradled a bundle of cloth and groceries in one arm.
He was forced to leave behind small tools such as knives and herbs.
He pressed the other bundle tightly to his ribs. It made every breath painful.
He limped into the street. The villagers who came out because of the commotion inside the shop didn't ask if he was okay. He didn't expect any help from them anyway.
They openly watched him, their faces displaying a tired mix of curiosity, quiet disdain, and thinly veiled amusement.
"Trouble follows him like a shadow," a man near the weapons stall muttered, chewing on a twig.
"He used to be a decent boy, but he suddenly changed," someone else said. "He used to work in town. He kept to himself. Now he bites the chief, spits on Chen Yi, and punches elders? Jealousy's a slow poison."
Wuji heard them. He didn't stop or argue back; he didn't want to waste his breath explaining the truth to them. Still, their gossip bothered him.
"Of course I'm the villain," he thought.
"I dared to question a golden child. In a place like this, that's worse than murder."
With each step forward, he felt a throbbing pain. His ribs screamed with each shift in weight.
"If the Fifth Elder hadn't shown up, I'd be rotting in a ditch right now. Everyone here would be smiling about it and clapping Wang Da on the back for serving 'justice.'"
He looked up at the silent, cloudless sky. As if nothing had happened.
"This world doesn't care about truth. It's all about strength. Being a martial artist alone isn't enough, especially when cultivators treat martial artists like unleashed dogs."
He had reached the hut before he realized it.
Meiyin stood outside with her hands clenched in front of her and her lips pressed into a thin line. She had been waiting since she woke up, wondering where he was.
The moment she saw him, her shoulders dropped. But as he got closer, her relief turned to dread.
Her eyes tracked his every limp and wince. Then, they locked onto the way he held his left side.
"Brother..." she said, her voice trembling. "Who hurt you this time?"
Wuji gave her a grin, but it didn't reach his eyes.
"Just a fat bastard named Wang Da," he said, waving a hand. "Don't worry. Next time, I'll beat him up so badly that not even his own mother will recognize him."
He tried to lighten the mood, but she didn't smile.
"I'm not that naive anymore, brother," Meiyin said softly. "Wang Da is the strongest martial artist under thirty. Everyone knows it. He trained under the Fifth Elder himself."
Wuji tilted his head and forced a smirk.
"Oh? So our Yin Yin knows the local power rankings now, huh? Look at you, all grown up."
He nudged her shoulder. "I guess I don't have to worry about you getting snatched by some backwater bandit lord."
"Brother, you're changing the topic again."
He laughed, but the motion caused him to wince. Pain rippled through his left side.
He gently reached out and ruffled her hair. "All right, all right. I'll tell you everything. But first, food."
He sniffed the air dramatically. "I've been punched, insulted, nearly robbed, and slandered. At the very least, I've earned a hot meal."
They stepped into the hut. As the door creaked shut behind them, Wuji's eyes lingered on the panel.
•••
An hour later, Wuji and Meiyin were sitting cross-legged on the packed dirt floor of their hut. A worn cloth separated them from the cold ground.
Between them were small clay bowls of hot meat stew, emitting faint steam.
Wuji had just finished recounting everything that had happened at the market.
Meiyin chewed slowly. Then, lifting her gaze, she asked,
"Did you really have to get that angry? They were just words."
Wuji wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Yeah, but words have teeth here. If I keep swallowing them, next time it won't just be insults. They'll step on us like ants."
She frowned and thought, "But what if they step harder?" She looked down briefly.
"What if they break your legs next time, like Wang Da? Or kill you?"
She hesitated, then said, "You've never even trained, brother."
Wuji flexed his hand over the dull pain in his ribs.
"Then I'll get stronger." His voice didn't rise, but it hardened. "Fast. Before anyone else thinks they can humiliate us again."
She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, almost too softly,
"What if it's an immortal cultivator next time?"
That stopped him cold.
He stared into his stew. Then, he gave a short, bitter chuckle and stirred the broth.
"Immortal cultivators, huh..." He fell silent for a few seconds. "Without a spirit root, I'm just another insect to them. Not even worth stepping on."
Meiyin carefully set her bowl aside. Her voice was calm yet firm.
"Then I'll ask the chief to test mine tomorrow. I've never been tested before, right?"
Wuji looked up, startled. "You really want to know?" His tone was gentle, but an underlying tension was present. He didn't want her to be crushed like he had been.
She nodded. "I want to see how they'd treat us if I had one. Also, wouldn't it be amazing if I became a cultivator?"
A faint smile appeared on his lips, but it quickly faded. Deep down, he knew the truth: If she didn't have a spirit root, it might break her.
He'd been told as much in front of half the village, and they had laughed at him. They laughed as if his dreams were nothing but a joke.
But he didn't fall apart—and he couldn't. First, he wasn't a child. His mind and soul were those of a grown man, his spine forged by failure.
Second, he had Cell Dominion. It was an alien and rare talent, and he still didn't know how to unlock its full potential. It was his secret and his ticket to the top.
He met Meiyin's gaze and quietly answered, "They'd treat you like a jade vase."
"Wrap you in silk. Feed you praise and lies. They would call you precious while strengthening the cage."
She smiled, but only a little. Then, her voice dropped and she sounded more thoughtful than before. "If I don't have one, they'll call me a parasite. They'll say I'm overreaching. They'll tell me to stay in my place, won't they?"
Her smile disappeared, and in its place, a firm expression took hold behind her eyes.
"I see your point, brother." She didn't waver, maintaining her gaze the entire time. Her tone was soft yet serious.
Wuji studied her face. "She's not the little girl from last week anymore," he thought. "If she has a spirit root, they'll want to take her. If she doesn't, she might finally understand what it means to walk alone."
Either way, things were going to change.