The morning air was sharp and cool, drifting across the outer sect like a blade scraping against stone. Sunlight pressed down from a cloudless sky, but its warmth was dimmed beneath the weight of discipline that lingered everywhere. The courtyards were alive with the faint echoes of fists striking wooden posts, the hiss of blades slicing through air, and the low murmur of disciples gathering in groups.
Xue Mo adjusted the sleeves of his robe as he stepped out from the shadow of his cave. His body still carried the stiffness from the night before, when he had forced his qi through reluctant meridians that felt more like cracked pipes than flowing rivers. His movements were steady, his gaze calm, and though his face bore no particular expression, the sharpness in his eyes would have unsettled anyone who looked closely enough.
He did not need long to sense that he was being watched.
Three figures stood further along the path, where the stone trail branched toward the Internal Affairs Hall. They were waiting, leaning casually as though they had simply stopped for idle talk, but their eyes were fixed on him. Their voices, low at first, grew louder as he approached.
"Is that him? Lin Feng?"
"Hah, who else could it be. The sect's wasted effort made flesh."
"Careful, he might try to drink beast blood again. Maybe he thinks he can scare us with that."
The three laughed.
Xue Mo's steps did not falter. He recognized them from the memories he had inherited. Liu Tao, Chen Wei, and Zhou Kang. All outer sect disciples, stronger than this body by at least one or two small realms. Lin Feng had avoided them in the past, but avoidance only delayed the inevitable. Now they stood in his path.
Liu Tao straightened from the wall he had been leaning on. He was tall and lean, with sharp cheekbones that seemed to cut the air whenever he turned his head. His robe was neat, his hair tied tightly, and he carried himself with the arrogance of someone who believed every inch of the sect's ground belonged to him.
Chen Wei, shorter and broader, cracked his knuckles as he smirked. His eyes were restless, always shifting, always eager for trouble.
Zhou Kang lingered just behind them. He was quiet, his hands folded behind his back, his gaze steady but less sharp. His face carried no sneer, yet he did not step aside either.
"Well, well," Liu Tao said, his voice smooth with mockery. "If it isn't Lin Feng. I was wondering when you'd crawl out of your hole."
Xue Mo looked at him without speaking.
Chen Wei stepped forward, his grin widening. "You got your pill yet? Hand it over. A useless cripple like you doesn't need it. Better to put it to use in someone else's cultivation."
The words were not unexpected. For outer sect disciples, a daily Qi Gathering Pill was one of the few resources guaranteed. It was small, barely enough to stir one's qi for a brief session of cultivation, but for those stuck at bottlenecks or desperate to make progress, even a single pill was valuable.
Xue Mo's inherited memories told him clearly that Lin Feng had been a favorite target. Beaten, mocked, sometimes robbed. He had endured, hoping to climb just one more step before the sect cast him aside.
"Quiet, Wei," Liu Tao said lazily. "No need to rush. Maybe Lin Feng will surprise us and beg like last time. I do enjoy watching him grovel."
Chen Wei chuckled. "Do you think he'll cry again?"
They waited, their eyes fixed on him.
Xue Mo stopped a few steps away, regarding them as one might regard stones blocking a road. He did not answer.
His silence unsettled Chen Wei. The disciple scowled and stepped closer, jabbing a finger toward his chest. "I said, hand over your pill."
Xue Mo's eyes flicked down to the hand, then back to Chen Wei's face. Calm. Detached. It was the look of someone who had seen corpses piled in mountains and rivers of blood flowing for miles. For a brief second, Chen Wei's smirk faltered.
But Liu Tao laughed, covering the flicker of unease. "You think staring at us like that makes you less of trash? Don't forget, you're still at the fourth level. Even the air we breathe is too valuable for you."
He stepped forward and shoved Xue Mo's shoulder. The force sent him back a step, his weakened body unsteady, but he caught himself before stumbling further.
"See? A cripple." Chen Wei barked a laugh, emboldened again. He moved quickly, striking Xue Mo in the stomach with a sharp jab of his fist. Not enough to break anything, but enough to make the breath leave his lungs.
Xue Mo grunted softly but did not bend. His expression remained blank.
Zhou Kang finally moved, stepping in with a slow kick that brushed against Xue Mo's shin. His face betrayed no enjoyment, no cruelty. His strike landed lightly compared to the others, almost half-hearted. When Xue Mo's gaze slid toward him, Zhou Kang looked away as though uninterested.
"Pathetic," Liu Tao muttered, shaking his head. "The sect wastes medicine and space on you. They should have thrown you out already."
He leaned closer, his voice a low whisper meant only for Xue Mo. "Do yourself a favor. When the day comes, leave quietly. Or I will make sure your exit is memorable."
With that, Liu Tao waved a hand, signaling the end of their fun. "Let's go. Trash isn't worth more of our time."
Chen Wei spat near Xue Mo's feet before following. Zhou Kang lingered a moment longer, his eyes flicking toward Xue Mo with something unreadable, then turned and left without a word.
The path cleared.
Xue Mo straightened his robe, brushed the dust from his sleeve, and continued walking as though nothing had happened. Inside, however, he filed away every word, every expression, every hesitation. His mind worked like a blade honing itself against stone.
When he returned to his cave, the quiet air embraced him. He sat cross-legged on the floor, placed the Qi Gathering Pill between his fingers, and swallowed it whole. The bitter taste spread across his tongue, dissolving into a faint warmth that sank into his stomach before rushing outward.
Closing his eyes, Xue Mo guided the pill's energy into his meridians.
The qi was faint, weak compared to what he once wielded, but every thread mattered. He directed it carefully, weaving it along the Primary Meridian that began beneath his navel, pushing it upward toward the Solar Meridian that branched across his chest. From there he guided it into the Meridian of Vitality, which curved along his spine, steadying his breathing and heart.
The energy moved sluggishly at first, as though dragging chains behind it. His body resisted, his meridians narrow and brittle, but he forced the qi onward, smoothing its flow with the sharp precision of his will.
Sweat gathered on his brow. His breathing slowed. The cave seemed to dim, its silence deepening as his awareness tunneled inward.
He felt the qi surge against a blocked point in his left arm, like water pressing against a clogged channel. Slowly, he pressed again and again, patient and relentless, until with a faint ripple the obstruction gave way. Warmth spread down his arm, and the meridian opened slightly wider.
A faint smile touched his lips. Progress.
The threads of qi circled back, completing their cycle. He could sense the weakness of this body, the fragile state of its cultivation, but also the subtle improvements born of his control. Where Lin Feng had floundered, Xue Mo advanced steadily, like a craftsman repairing a broken vessel piece by piece.
Hours passed. When he finally opened his eyes, the light outside the cave had dimmed into the hues of dusk. His body ached, but his qi moved more smoothly than before, its presence clearer within his meridians. Still the fourth level of Qi cultivation, but steadier, firmer, as though the foundation stones of a house had been reset.
Xue Mo sat quietly, his gaze fixed on the cave's mouth.
The world of the righteous sect was not unfamiliar. Its rules were harsh, but no harsher than those he had lived under in the demonic faction. The strong advanced, the weak were cast aside. The names changed, but the truth remained.
He had no vows to make, no oaths to scream at the sky. Only the quiet certainty of someone who had walked this path before.
Strength would come.
And when it did, no one would dare call him trash again.