Chapter 36

Chapter 36: Lin Long Fell for It

Lin Zhao won her last match without suspense.

With 20 points, her advancement from Group Three was sealed.

Results from the other four groups came quickly as well. Only Group Four dragged into the evening with a tiebreaker; the rest of the top ten were already drawing their third-stage match numbers.

Lin Zhao hadn’t even looked at her own number when a wave of gasps rose nearby.

Lin Long stared at his draw and smiled. “Looks like I’ll have to ask Young Master Lin Yuan for guidance.”

Lin Yuan’s eyes fixed on the result. Veins bulged on the back of his hand.

He glanced once—meaningfully—toward Lin Zhao and Lin Mang. Then, forcing his expression smooth again, he turned to Lin Long with a stiff smile. “Brother Long overpraises me.”

Lin Zhao’s mouth tightened.

Lin Ya, who’d recovered slightly and noticed Lin Yuan’s look as well, walked over. “Lin Yuan seems to think you and the Family Head tampered with the draw.”

Lin Zhao met Lin Yuan’s retreating, vicious gaze with cold indifference. “A guilty conscience sees ghosts everywhere.”

Lin Ya sighed.

She was helpless about Lin Yuan’s mind as her cousin. It was exactly why she didn’t want Lin Yuan to become the Lin Family’s true next-generation ruler.

After Group Four’s tiebreaker finally ended, Lin Zhao’s third-stage draw result came out as well.

Her opponent was a peak tenth-layer Foundation Establishment cultivator from Group Two. Another body cultivator.

The man looked at the result, slapped his forehead, and groaned as if the heavens had cursed him. “Tragic.”

He’d trained his body his whole life, and against Lin Ya he could barely endure three moves. Against Lin Zhao—someone who could physically crush Lin Ya—he didn’t believe he’d keep his bones intact for even that long.

Still, his temperament was strong. He cupped his hands and joked, “When the time comes, please show mercy, Young Lord’s subordinate.”

Lin Zhao smiled and returned the salute. “Cousin, you’re too modest.”

Lin Yuan snorted at the sight and swept away without another word.

Lin Zhao watched his back, unease sharpening in her chest.

Lin Yuan had a hundred tricks for her. Against Lin Long, he’d likely be even more shameless.

She found Lin Long and took a pill from her spatial ring.

“Maybe I’m overthinking,” she said, “but this Clear Spirit Pill might be useful tomorrow.”

Clear Spirit Pill was a Third Grade pill that could cure a hundred poisons. After leaving the Imperial Capital auction house, Lin Zhao had bought three.

Lin Long opened his mouth to refuse.

Then he met Lin Zhao’s bright eyes.

His face heated instantly. His thoughts turned to buzzing noise. His tongue forgot how to work.

By the time he returned to himself, the top-quality Third Grade Clear Spirit Pill was already in his palm. And the faint fragrance she left behind lingered at the edge of his senses like something he couldn’t shake.

“Pathetic, Lin Long,” he muttered to himself.

He rubbed his face, sighed, and carefully stored the pill away.

That night, Lin Zhao returned to her courtyard. She stabilized her cultivation, then looked inward at her dantian. The Hong Hu sword light sat there, quiet and sharp, like a sleeping beast.

She exhaled.

She hoped she was overthinking.

She hoped Lin Yuan wasn’t insane enough to strike viciously at a fellow clansman.

But if he dared…

Then even if she had to give up her Young Lord position, she would cripple him.

The next day, the sky was bright and clear.

Lin Zhao’s match came after Lin Yuan’s.

Lin Yuan stepped onto the platform, bowed toward Lin Long with a smooth smile, and said, “Please teach me.”

Lin Long returned the salute without wasting words. His aura surged like a storm. He gripped his saber and slashed sideways.

The saber howled, carrying a faint scent of blood.

Lin Yuan sneered and tapped the ground. He retreated dozens of meters in a blink. Black spiritual energy seeped from him and shaped itself into a python.

The spirit python opened its maw, dark red eyes blazing with vicious light.

“Fifth Grade spirit technique: Nether Spirit Python!”

It looked similar to Lin Ya’s Earth Dragon Bind, but it carried a deeper, wronger weight. Seventh Elder had sought out a thread of true Nether Python lingering soul and fused it into the technique. The manifestation carried a sliver of Nether Python’s innate abilities.

Something only Seventh Grade techniques normally possessed.

But Nether Spirit Python was still Fifth Grade.

If Lin Yuan forced those innate abilities, it would rebound hard. The awakened lingering soul might even devour his consciousness.

Lin Zhao’s frown deepened.

She’d seen Nether Python methods before—and this one stirred a familiar unease.

It felt too close to Ning Wen Gui’s Python Poison.

She didn’t notice Lin Mang’s eyes flicker with something dark and complicated when the Nether Spirit Python formed.

Lin Long didn’t dodge. He roared and punched, dense silver-white spiritual energy condensing around his fists.

Punch after punch.

Then the silver-white energy gathered into a small silver dragon.

Compared to the Nether Spirit Python, it was tiny.

Yet the moment the spirit python touched it, it recoiled as if it had seen something terrifying. Its tail whipped, and it fled in panic.

Lin Zhao had barely relaxed when Lin Yuan’s lips curled into a strange smile.

Before she could understand why he was still smiling, the fleeing Nether Spirit Python had already reached Lin Long.

Lin Long punched.

The python burst apart into countless wisps of mist and vanished.

A Fifth Grade manifestation summoned, fleeing, and then shattered by one punch?

That was unheard of.

Not only Lin Zhao sensed something wrong. Others did too.

Lin Yuan had used Nether Spirit Python in earlier matches. It hadn’t been unstoppable, but it hadn’t been this… weak.

As the one fighting, Lin Long felt the wrongness even more sharply. But with battle already joined, he didn’t slow his hands. He stepped in and clashed saber-to-sword with Lin Yuan.

Both were at the twelfth layer of peak Foundation Establishment, but Lin Long’s aura surged and dipped like a living tide. He was clearly brushing the barrier to Enlightenment—stronger than Lin Yuan by a clear margin.

In direct combat, Lin Yuan stayed on the back foot.

Lin Long’s saber forced him back seven steps.

Lin Yuan wiped blood from his lips. A triumphant smile spread across his face, nearly undisguised.

“Lin Long,” he said softly, “you’re strong. But since you insist on opposing me—die.”

He snapped his hand out.

A mass of spiritual fog burst toward Lin Long.

It entered Lin Long’s nose.

His face turned bluish-purple instantly. His momentum collapsed as if someone had ripped a pillar from his spine.

“Nether Poison Mist?!” Lin Mang blurted out.

First Elder—who knew what had happened to Lin Mang’s eldest son—slammed the table so hard the wood creaked. “How can that thing appear in the Lin Family?!”

Seventh Elder frowned as if he truly didn’t understand their fury. “Nether Poison Mist is a Nether Spirit Python method. The tournament allows all combat methods, doesn’t it?”

Fourth Elder’s gaze cut into him, cold enough to freeze.

“This kind of poison technique has long been forbidden by clan decree for use against fellow disciples.”

Seventh Elder’s expression didn’t change. “The winner is king. The loser is nothing. Everyone uses their own means. If he was struck, it means he wasn’t strong enough.”

The elders and Lin Mang wore different expressions, calculations flashing behind their eyes, but no one spoke further.

To the Lin Family, Nether Poison Mist wasn’t unsolvable. And offending Seventh Elder and Lin Yuan—still the most outstanding direct-line disciple of the younger generation—wasn’t something everyone wanted to do.

In the end, it came down to ability.

And it came down to numbers.

Lin Mang’s main line was too thin. That was why Seventh Elder dared protect his grandson like this.