As Mo Yin concluded the tour and turned toward the archway leading into the inner court, the sound of laughter drifted down the path. Three figures approached, their robes almost similar to that of Jian only difference was the insignia of the inner court they carried.
"If it isn't Mo Yin," one of them drawled. His lips curled into a mocking smile. "I didn't know you enjoyed mingling with outer court disciples. And weak ones, at that."
It was Liang Chen—an inner court disciple known less for cultivation brilliance and more for his talent in stirring trouble. He delighted in belittling anyone he considered beneath him, which was mostly outer court disciple.
"Hey, Liang Chen!" another voice chimed in. Ming Dao, his ever-present friend and partner in mischief. His eyes flicked past Jian and landed on Maria. "Look at this—rare find! She's a Westerner."
The third disciple snickered.
Westerners were a rarity in these lands. After the civil wars that tore their empire apart, most had withdrawn back to their homeland. In the vast Yin and Yang Unity Sect, which boasted nearly a thousand disciples, fewer than thirty hailed from the Western regions.
To Liang Chen and his ilk, such rarity was not cause for respect but for ridicule and exploitation as Maria was nothing but a lowly helper.
Liang Chen's smirk widened as his gaze locked onto Maria. "Well now," he said, his tone suddenly syrupy, "what's a pretty little flower like you doing so far from home?" He stepped forward with a predator's ease and, without warning, seized Maria by the chin, his fingers pressing against her mouth.
Maria stiffened, her eyes wide with alarm.
But before she could react, Liang Chen's wrist was struck aside with a sharp crack.
Jian stood between them, his hand still half-raised from the blow. His other arm reached back protectively, dragging Maria behind himself.
His expression was calm—too calm—but his eyes carried the weight of worry as he was not by any means strong enough to fight an inner court disciple.
But even with that he rather died than standby and watch as his woman is harassed. "Thats no way to treat a woman," Jian said evenly, his voice filled with reserved composure trying to remain calm.
Turning to Jian, Liang Chen was momentarily stunned, his mind struggling to process what had just happened.
"Did… that outer court disciple just touch me?" he said at last, his voice trembling between disbelief and fury as every one he ever bullied never fought back.
Jian didn't answer. He simply threw Mo Yin a look—sharp, almost impatient—as if asking, Well? What are you waiting for?
Liang Chen's face darkened, veins bulging as he began drawing spiritual energy to his fists. Sparks of Qi flickered around him, the oppressive force rolling off his body was directed to Jian making him unable to breath.
The disciples nearby instantly scattered, sensing that violence was about to erupt.
Mo Yin, who had been watching with mild amusement until then, suddenly froze. She had only intended to watch Jian get roughed up a little—maybe humbled enough to see his place.
But now… Liang Chen wasn't just annoyed. He was out for blood as if he continued he was bound to kill him.
Her chest tightened. If he kills Lou Jian here, I'll be implicated for standing by. The elders would never believe she couldn't do nothing about the situation coupled with the fact that some passerby had spotted her.
"Liang Chen, you fool!" Mo Yin's voice cracked the tension, sharp and commanding as it cut across the courtyard. "Before you strike him down, you'd better think carefully how you plan to explain yourself to Fairy Mei Lian when she finds out you killed her disciple."
The name struck like thunder.
Liang Chen's aura faltered, his eyes narrowing with suspicion. "You're bluffing. Fairy Mei Lian hasn't taken a disciple in the last hundred years. If she had, I would know." His lip curled. "And even if she had chosen one, he wouldn't be this weak putting into consideration her obsession with the strong."
Mo Yin stepped forward, her tone laced with quiet authority. "Bluffing? Do you think I'd waste my time showing a random nobody around the sect? Use your head, Liang Chen.
An outer court disciple, strolling under my watch? If you lay a hand on him, even you know what fate awaits you."
For a long moment, the only sound was Liang Chen's heavy breathing. His Qi flared violently, then slowly he began to calm down.
At last, he exhaled sharply, forcing his fists to unclench. His glare burned holes through Jian, hate and malice dripping from every word:
"Watch your back, youngster."
With that, Liang Chen turned on his heel and stormed off, Ming Dao trailing close behind. Before leaving, Ming Dao locked eyes with Jian, a smirk tugging at his lips, one that promised this matter was far from over.
The tension that had gripped the courtyard slowly dissipated, but Mo Yin hurried to Jian's side, genuine concern flickering across her usually nonchalant face. "Are you okay?" she asked, her voice softer now.
To someone at the first stage of Flesh Strengthening realm, standing before a Core Formation cultivator was no different than a mortal standing off against a god.
Even that fleeting burst of pressure from Liang Chen's aura was enough to shatter Jian's insides.
Jian staggered, then fell over, vomiting a mouthful of blood onto the stone floor, each breath a rasp as he forced himself to stay upright.
Already Maria had dropped to her knees beside him, tears spilling freely. She reached out helplessly, her hands hovering over his shoulders as if afraid to touch him. "Young master…" her voice cracked, raw with panic. "What should I do? Please, what can I do?"
For the first time in a long while, Maria felt utterly powerless. She had followed Jian through a little hassle, and yet never had she seen him cru
shed so easily, as Jian had always navigated him self out of problem .