Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Scroll Lingering Soul

Lin Zhao’s expression stayed calm.

“Whether I can get it,” she said evenly, “I’ll only know after I try.”

She tilted her head slightly, eyes bright with quiet provocation.

“Cousin Lin Yi—are you afraid of me, a mere mid Foundation Establishment?”

Lin Zhao had just returned. She didn’t want to make things ugly within the clan. But being reasonable didn’t mean being soft.

Lin Yi’s jealousy flared into anger. Her voice rose.

“Ten years and only mid Foundation Establishment. If not for your status as the family head’s daughter, you wouldn’t even be qualified to speak to me like this.”

Lin Zhao’s smile thinned, edged with something cold.

“Ten years ago,” she said, “I stood here, and you weren’t even qualified to stand in front of me.”

It wasn’t boasting. It was fact.

Back then, Lin Zhao had reached Foundation Establishment at six. She had been a genius bright enough to blind the clan. Who would have thought ten years later—on Mount Yun Ding—she would still only be at the sixth level of Foundation Establishment?

Lin Yi couldn’t refute it.

Flames rose in her hand. “I hope Third Sister’s strength is as hard as her mouth!”

“Impudent.”

An aged voice cut between them like a blade.

Lin Zhao looked over.

A stern-faced elder approached, pressure rolling off him in a quiet wave. His cultivation was deep enough that even Lin Yi’s fire faltered.

Lin Yan—the Lin Family’s law enforcement elder.

His gaze swept over Lin Yi first, displeasure clear.

“This competition is open to all Lin Family clanspeople,” he said. “Third Miss naturally has the right to join. If you have objections, wait until you can make decisions for the Lin Family—then talk.”

Lin Yi’s face turned dark. She bit down hard enough to show her teeth.

“Third Sister,” she hissed, “you’d better pray your life is hard enough on competition day.”

“Impudent!” Lin Yan barked. “Disrespectful words. Lin Yi, confined for three days.”

He turned, gaze shifting to Lin Zhao.

“As for Third Miss—register, then go cultivate.”

Lin Zhao blinked.

Lin Yan wasn’t known for gentleness. Sometimes he didn’t even give her father face. For him to take her side so cleanly…

Lin Zhao’s eyes slid to Su Bai, still standing beside her like quiet shadow.

She understood.

She smiled faintly.

“I said I’d protect you,” she murmured to Su Bai, “but it seems I’m borrowing Little Bai’s light first.”

Su Bai’s gaze swept over the surrounding clan members, calm and indifferent.

“These years while Sister was gone,” he said lightly, “they forgot what a real genius looks like.”

Lin Zhao’s smile turned bitter. “Now in the whole Lin Family, only you still think I’m a genius.”

“That’s because they have no eyes,” Su Bai said, tone mild.

Lin Zhao stepped forward to the elder registering names. The elder was a marginal branch member with no cultivation talent, assigned to handling odd jobs at the main house—Lin Su, an old man who’d spent most of his life for the Lin Family.

Lin Zhao bowed politely.

“Thank you for your hard work, Senior Elder.”

Lin Su startled, then beamed so wide his wrinkles deepened. “Third Miss is too polite. Here—this is your competition plaque.”

Lin Zhao accepted the plaque. The ink on the green tag was still fresh. She cupped her hands in salute again, then turned to leave.

Lin Su couldn’t help sighing as he watched her go. “What a good young lady. That Holy Son of Yao Chi truly has no blessing.”

He knocked the two young acolytes beside him with his elbow. “See? That’s Third Miss. The most proper master among this generation. Don’t let rumors blind you and make you foolish—otherwise I’ll be the first to deal with you!”

Lin Zhao walked away with the plaque in hand, the clan’s noise fading behind her.

On Mount Yun Ding, she had almost never had a fair chance to compete.

When there was hardship, Lin Zhao took it. When there were rewards, Chen Luo Luo enjoyed them. The leftovers went to the junior brothers.

She couldn’t even remember how many achievements Chen Luo Luo had stolen from her under the guise of tears and weakness.

Every day Yun Ding had pressed the same words into her mind: As the Senior Sister, you must endure. You must yield.

Lin Zhao tightened her grip on the plaque until her fingers ached.

Her voice, when she spoke to herself, was low and cold enough to raise goosebumps.

“Immortal Venerable Yun Ding. Chen Luo Luo. You’d better keep your lives for me, Lin Zhao, to take.” Her gaze sharpened into something murderous. “If you die at someone else’s hand first… I’ll be very disappointed.”

Outside the crowd, Su Bai watched her emerge.

“Done registering?” he asked.

Lin Zhao nodded. “Sister’s a bit busy today. Another day I’ll treat you to food and take you shopping.”

Su Bai didn’t care much for those hobbies. But the corner of his lips still lifted.

“Then I’ll remember it,” he said. “Sister can’t break her promise.”

Lin Zhao laughed. “When has Sister ever owed Brother anything? I still have something to do. I’m heading back first.”

Su Bai watched her leave. The smile on his lips faded slowly.

His gaze flicked toward Lin Yi’s direction, a hint of killing intent stirring—then he pressed it down, smooth as silk.

Lin Zhao returned to her bedroom, set a soundproof barrier, and placed the competition plaque aside.

Then she reached into the spatial necklace at her throat and took out a scroll.

It was old and cracked, edges frayed, the surface marked by countless fine lines—as if it had survived fire and time and still refused to burn away.

She had obtained it at twelve, on the brink of death in a secret realm. In that realm, she had nearly died more times than she could count, and the scroll had bonded to her on its own. That was why even Mount Yun Ding didn’t know she possessed it.

Back then, Lin Zhao hadn’t understood why it chose her.

But on the day she severed ties with Yun Ding, it stirred.

And when the Old Ancestor spoke of Phoenix Fortune, the scroll inside her necklace had grown burning hot.

Lin Zhao stared at it, pulse steadying.

“Scroll Senior…” she said softly. “Are you here because of the Phoenix Fortune in my body?”

She wasn’t sure. In that secret realm, Chen Luo Luo had been there too. If the scroll truly sought Phoenix Fortune, wouldn’t Chen Luo Luo—with her stolen shares—have been a better match?

The scroll trembled.

A shadowy figure drifted out, coalescing slowly in the air.

Lin Zhao had weathered storms, otherwise she would have lost control of the spiritual energy holding the scroll aloft.

The figure circled her twice.

Then Lin Zhao finally saw what it was—and went blank.

A fluffy little chick.

It was absurdly small, round as a fist, with downy feathers and bright, beady eyes.

Then it opened its beak, and an elderly woman’s raspy voice came out—deep, rough, and authoritative.

“Not bad,” it said. “You can be Granny’s disciple.”

Lin Zhao stared, almost afraid her mind was playing tricks. “Disciple?”

The chick nodded, solemn as a sage, and somehow managed to look dignified while being fluffy.

“I am a Hong Hu lingering soul,” it said. “I do need Phoenix Fortune nourishment to maintain myself—but Hong Hu are descendants of the White Phoenix. Do you think just anyone’s Phoenix Fortune can nourish Granny?”

It snorted, contempt dripping through the tiny gesture.

“In that secret realm, what that other little girl did—I saw it clearly.”

Lin Zhao’s eyes sharpened at once. “Chen Luo Luo…”

The chick’s eyes narrowed as if pleased she understood.

“Little girl,” it continued, “I’ve watched you for years. I approve of your character.” Its tone hardened. “But if you keep being a punching bag, Granny will look down on you.”

It lifted its tiny chin.

“Now I’ll give you a chance. Are you willing to take me as your master?”

Lin Zhao didn’t answer immediately.

She looked at the chick—this ridiculous creature with an ancient voice—and weighed the heat in the scroll, the timing, the way fate had shifted the moment she stopped obeying.

Then she asked the only question that mattered.

“Senior,” Lin Zhao said evenly, “what benefits do I get if I take you as my master?”

The chick stomped its tiny foot in fury. “Hmph! Back then, not only the people here, but even… those who wanted to be my disciple—I didn’t even bother to look at them!”

Lin Zhao spread her hands helplessly. “I have to know whether being your disciple will help me improve. You’ve followed me so long—you know my last master…”

Halfway through, the bitterness rose and turned her voice rough.

The chick stared at her for a beat, then huffed.

“Stop playing tricks on Granny,” it said. “You’re joining the clan competition, aren’t you?”

It leaned forward, eyes bright.

“I’ll tell you this—if you take me as your master, within a month I can raise you from the sixth level of Foundation Establishment to the tenth. No problem.”

Lin Zhao sucked in a cold breath.

Then she dropped to her knees without hesitation and performed three bows and nine prostrations, each one crisp and solemn.

“Master,” she said, forehead to the floor, “please accept your disciple!”