Shen Changsheng once said:
"Exert only thirty percent, and hide seventy percent for survival.
That's the difference between those who cling to life and the so-called prodigies."
Lin Ce understood this well.
After the great fire in Qingshi Town, he carried his Corpse Banner and Poison Gu into Qingxiao Sect—a mid-tier sect located on the southern edge of Qingzhou.
Upon entry, he underwent the spirit root test at the Measuring Spirit Platform. The elders sighed as they saw his "below average" roots and immediately assigned him to the lowest tier—the Servant Peak.
No one noticed how, during the test, he discreetly pressed a talisman device, weakening the result just enough to be dismissed.
—This was hiding his life.
For three months, Lin Ce worked at Servant Peak. He never competed, never stood out. But in that time, he memorized the temperament of every peak master, steward, and junior disciple.
He could even list who was having secret affairs, who took kickbacks, and who sneaked into forbidden grounds at night.
—This was hiding his edge.
During an outer sect trial, all disciples were sent into the Chiyin Secret Realm to collect spirit herbs.
Among them were three infamous outer disciples known as the Red Serpent Trio, notorious for robbing the weak.
When they found Lin Ce wandering alone in the forest, one of them sneered:
"This brat has no background. Let's gut him!"
Lin Ce turned and fled, feigning panic.
The trio laughed wildly and gave chase, unaware that every step they took led deeper into a trap: the path was layered with hidden talisman arrays, drawn with corpse oil.
The first trap: an illusion formation, disrupting their sense of direction.
The second: corrosive poison mist, seeping into their flesh and blood.
The third and final: a bone puppet inscribed with blood sigils, bursting from underground.
Lin Ce had spent three days and nights setting this up—for this exact moment.
This wasn't a duel.
It was a hunt.
They died cleanly and completely.
When the trial ended, the Red Serpent Trio were declared missing.
Most believed they were eaten by spirit beasts.
Lin Ce returned with their storage pouches and continued doing chores—drying senior brothers' robes, sweeping for stewards—like nothing had happened.
He exerted thirty percent effort, and hid seventy percent intent.
Eventually, the upper ranks of Qingxiao Sect began to take note of this quiet, "reliable," "trouble-averse," and "luckily favored" servant disciple.
Three months later, he was promoted to the outer sect—a full disciple at last.
But Lin Ce knew…
This was only the beginning of what Shen Changsheng called the "Dao-Companion Stage."
From here on, the killing fields would be deadlier: infighting, seductive immortals, battles with true geniuses...
Shen Changsheng whispered in his dreams:
"Remember this—'Dao-companions' are not friends.
They're predators in the same food chain.
They don't need a reason to kill you."
Lin Ce opened his eyes and looked toward the main peak of Qingxiao Sect.
He knew…
That would be his next battlefield.