Lin Chen hit the wall so hard he thought his spine had shattered.
Blood filled his mouth. His vision swam. Three years as an outer disciple of Qingyun Sect, and this was what he had to show for it—broken ribs, a sealed cultivation base, and a boot pressed against his chest.
"Look at you," Zhao Tianlong sneered. "Three years and still at Qi Condensation Level 1. A dog could cultivate faster than you."
Laughter echoed from the crowd at the door. Fellow outer disciples. None of them stepped forward. No one helped the loser.
Lin Chen coughed. "I wasn't—"
"Your existence offends me." Zhao Tianlong crouched down, grabbing his hair. "But that's not why I'm here. Senior Sister Su sent me."
Lin Chen's heart stopped.
Su Yao.
His fiancée.
The crowd parted. Su Yao walked in like moonlight cutting through shadow—cold, beautiful, untouchable. Her cultivation base radiated pressure that made everyone step back.
She looked at Lin Chen like he was garbage.
"Our engagement ends today."
She let a folded letter fall onto his back. Then she turned away.
"Zhao Tianlong. Make sure he understands."
She left without looking back.
Zhao Tianlong cracked his knuckles. "You heard her."
The first kick broke his ribs. The second stole his breath. The third, fourth, fifth—he lost count. The crowd watched. Some winced. No one helped.
Through the haze of pain, Lin Chen's mind drifted.
Three years. I tried everything. Nothing worked. My talent is garbage. My root bone is defective.
And now she threw me away like trash.
Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision.
What's the point?
Then—
System initializing…
His eyes snapped open.
Scanning host…
Host status: Critical. Meridian damage: 34%. Dantian: Sealed.
Binding complete.
Welcome, Host. The Ten Thousand Worlds Sign-In System is now online.
A translucent screen appeared in his vision.
System functions:
· Sign-in at designated locations to receive rewards
· Daily Sign-in available
· Hidden locations yield exceptional rewards
Sign-in location detected: Qingyun Sect Forbidden Ground.
Distance: 2.3 km.
Warning: Success rate 23%. Death rate if detected: 94%.
Proceed?
Lin Chen stared at the floating text.
Then he laughed—a wet, broken sound that made Zhao Tianlong pause.
"What's so funny, trash?"
Lin Chen dragged himself upright. His body screamed. His legs shook. But he stood.
"You want me to understand?" His voice was a whisper. "I understand perfectly."
Proceed?
Yes.
Confirmed. Guidance system activated.
A blue arrow appeared at the edge of his vision, pointing toward the back mountain.
Lin Chen turned and limped toward the door.
"Where do you think you're going?" Zhao Tianlong growled.
Lin Chen didn't answer.
The crowd parted instinctively. Something in his eyes made them step back. Not power. Just the look of a man with nothing left to lose.
"Stop him!"
Two disciples blocked the door—both at Qi Condensation Level 5. Bigger. Stronger.
Lin Chen walked toward them.
The first reached out to grab him.
Lin Chen's fingers closed around the disciple's wrist. His grip was weak. Pathetic.
But the disciple flinched.
It was the look in his eyes. Empty. Burning. The look of someone who had already accepted death.
"Let him go," someone whispered.
The disciple's hand fell away.
Lin Chen walked through the door, following the blue arrow toward the Forbidden Ground.
Toward his last chance.
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