As the meal neared its end, the initial formality faded into lighter exchanges. Conversation drifted to casual topics, softening the air, though Li Yan remained alert—measuring every word spoken.

  Because for Li Yan, this world is unfamiliar, and he still does not know who are allies or enemies yet.

  It was Ji Lin who finally broke through the polite chatter, his deep brown eyes filled with a hint of tension or disbelief as they locked onto Li Yan.

  "We heard," he began, voice courteous but edged with curiosity, "that you are under the protection of the goddess."

  The table fell silent again. Even the gentle clink of porcelain faded.

  Li Yan offered a modest smile, choosing his words carefully. "I consider myself fortunate to have received the guidance and protection of Senior Yao Fuhuo," he replied, his voice steady but sincere.

  The name alone carried an undeniable weight.

  At those words, everyone except Ji Hong and Cao Lian froze.

  The mere mention of Yao Fuhuo—spoken with such familiarity—sent a ripple of shock around the table.

  Eyes widened; something shifted in the atmosphere. To most of them, it was likely the first time hearing the goddess’s name, let alone from someone who spoke it as if she were a mentor rather than a divine figure.

  Ji Hong’s expression stayed calm, though his curiosity flickered beneath the surface. "Li Yan," he said evenly, "may I ask how you came to know the goddess? And, where do you come from?"

  Li Yan drew a slow breath, aware of the scrutiny pressing against him. His answer could shape his standing here. He didn’t wish to reveal too much—but neither could he appear evasive.

  "A little bit of truth won’t hurt."

  "I’m a commoner from Flower Rain Town (Huā Yǔ Zhèn)," he answered evenly. "I met Senior Yao Fuhuo on the very day I arrived here."

  His voice carried no hesitation, only simple truth. Yet silence followed—an uneasy, heavy quiet that seemed to stretch. Doubt flickered across all faces.

  Sensing their skepticism, Li Yan continued, his tone calm and unwavering. "Senior Yao Fuhuo offered me her guidance and protection—on the condition that I take on certain tasks once I’m strong enough."

  Another pause.

  But this one was sharper—laced with disbelief.

  Brows furrowed. Eyes narrowed.

  Ji Lin leaned forward, his expression tightening. "Are you mocking us?" he asked bluntly.

  "You expect us to believe that the goddess just appeared before a nameless youth and personally took him under her wing? Such stories belong in fairy tales, not in real life."

  Before Li Yan could speak, Bai Ru spoke up, her tone soft but cold as falling snow. "We’ve trained and bled for this sect for years. And now someone who’s barely started cultivating claims the goddess chose him?"

  "Forgive us if we’re unconvinced by your claims."

  Li Yan met their words with quiet stillness. His gaze lowered for a heartbeat, then rose again, clear and unwavering. "Whether you believe me or not is irrelevant," he said evenly.

  "I owe no one here an explanation about what connection I have with Senior Yao Fuhuo."

  His eyes swept the room—calm, not hostile, but carrying quiet dominance.

  "And if I were merely another disciple—" He let the words hang, his calm voice filled the quiet.

  "—I doubt I’d be sitting here among the Sect Leader’s family."

  The words settled like a blade.

  "I’m here to temper myself through combat and to cultivate in peace—nothing more. And I don’t intend to stay forever."

  "When my time here ends," he paused a little before continuing, "I’ll leave—just as planned with Senior Yao Fuhuo."

  Ji Lin’s brows furrowed, but before he could speak again, Ji Hong lifted a hand—his calm authority instantly silencing the room.

  "That’s enough," Ji Hong said calmly, his tone neither harsh nor indulgent. His gaze shifted toward Li Yan, thoughtful yet understanding. "Your words carry weight, even if they are difficult to accept."

  "Most here have served the sect for decades. Hearing such claims challenges their beliefs—not only about you but also about the goddess herself."

  Cao Lian nodded softly beside him. "Indeed," she said, her tone gentle but firm. "It’s not that we doubt your sincerity, Li Yan, but it is hard to imagine the goddess extending such favor to one outside the sect—especially a newcomer—seems beyond comprehension."

  "The goddess commands the full might of the Shadow Haven Sect (Yǐng Xū Zōng). We would all sacrifice much to fulfill even a single word of hers."

  Li Yan inclined his head in acknowledgment, his tone respectful but firm. "I understand everyone’s doubts, and I only speak the truth."

  "But there are matters I cannot discuss—out of respect for Senior Yao Fuhuo. Perhaps, one day, she will reveal everything herself, if she believes it necessary."

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Li Yan straightened slightly, his voice composed yet firm as he addressed Ji Hong directly. "Elder Ji, there is something I’d like to clarify."

  The room fell silent again, the tone shifting subtly. Ji Hong gave a gentle nod, signaling him to continue.

  "You offered me several privileges when I arrived here, techniques, resources, and artifacts free of charge," Li Yan said evenly, every word deliberate.

  "But I turned them all down. And I insisted on following the same rules as any ordinary disciple."

  A ripple of surprise passed through the group. Even Ji Hao leaned forward, his usual ease replaced by quiet attentiveness.

  Li Yan continued without pause. "I made that choice for a reason. I joined this sect to temper myself—to grow stronger through my own struggle, just like any other disciple."

  "I don’t want shortcuts or a crutch."

  His voice carried quiet conviction, echoing faintly through the dining hall. "If I grow dependent on external aid, I’ll lose the edge that comes from true tempering. What good is cultivation if I can’t even defend myself in a real battle outside these walls?"

  His eyes sharpened, voice low but resonant. "Even the most basic principle of cultivation teaches this—if two cultivators of equal cultivation fight, the one who built his foundation through pain and perseverance will always win over the one who relied on pills and favors."

  "Real strength doesn’t come from skipping steps. It comes from surviving them."

  For a moment, silence reigned.

  Then Ji Hong’s lips curved into a faint smile. "Li Yan," he said softly, his tone carrying both warmth and gravity, "more than once, I’ve pondered your words and actions since your arrival. You remind me not of a youth still learning the world."

  "The way you carry yourself—it’s clear your heart is far more tempered than your age would suggest."

  Li Yan’s lips curved into a quiet, enigmatic smile. "Elder Ji, this world is cruel. Immaturity doesn’t last long. I simply adapted to survive."

  A quiet breath escaped Cao Lian’s lips. Her brows furrowed slightly as she nodded in agreement. "Well said. Perhaps that’s why the goddess chose you. You’re clearly not an ordinary youth."

  For the first time, Ji Xin lifted her gaze. Her voice was calm, but curiosity shimmered in her eyes. "Grandmother," she asked softly, "did the goddess really choose Li Yan just because of his maturity?"

  Instead of Cao Lian, Ji Hong turned toward Ji Xin, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a subtle smile, he countered, "Tell me, Xin’er—if you were in Li Yan’s place, new to the sect and suddenly offered everything without effort, would you have refused?"

  Ji Xin blinked, taken aback. Her gaze dropped, her lips pressing together in thought. After a pause, she admitted quietly, "…No. I don’t think I would have had that kind of resolve."

  A faint blush touched her cheeks, though it was unclear whether it came from embarrassment—or admiration.

  Ji Hong shifted his attention to Ji Hao. "What about you, Hao’er?"

  Ji Hao chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. "Grandfather… truth be told, even now, being your grandson, I sometimes wonder why I haven’t received any special treatment."

  He shot Li Yan a sheepish grin. "So, yeah—if I were in his place, I doubt I’d have turned it down. Not a chance."

  Laughter rippled softly through the dining room, easing the earlier tension. Even Ji Lin, who had openly doubted Li Yan before, allowed a faint smirk.

  "In a world where power is everything," Ji Lin remarked, his tone dry but thoughtful, "few can resist the easy path. I doubt anyone else would’ve made the same choice."

  Cao Lian’s smile deepened, her eyes reflecting a quiet admiration. "You’ve chosen the harder path, but perhaps the truest one. I look forward to seeing what you become, Li Yan. And perhaps…"—her gaze narrowed slightly—"one day, the truth behind why the goddess chose you will reveal itself."

  Li Yan bowed his head slightly, his voice calm and respectful. "Thank you, Elder Cao. I appreciate your words. But there are many things I can’t share—not unless Senior Yao Fuhuo permits it."

  A stillness fell once more. Their curiosity became almost tangible, restrained yet sharp, as though a single word from Li Yan could shatter their patience.

  Sensing it, he spoke again, his tone quiet but edged with meaning. "However, there is one thing I can share—one of the reasons that makes me different from others."

  All eyes turned to him instantly.

  Without another word, Li Yan raised his hand slowly—palm open, hovering above the table. His movement was calm yet deliberate, every gesture controlled. A faint hum of Qi stirred in the air, subtle but deep, like the tremor that precedes a storm.

  From within, he drew upon the essence of his Darkness element.

  A dark mist began to swirl above his open palm—thin at first, like the shadow of smoke struggling to take form.

  But within seconds, it grew heavier, darker, denser. The mist coiled and thickened unnaturally, spiraling with silent grace. Its surface gleamed like black silk under starlight, absorbing the glow around it instead of reflecting it.

  Ji Hao leaned forward unconsciously, eyes fixed. Ji Xin’s gaze sharpened, her lips parting slightly. Even Ji Lin and Bai Ru straightened in their seat, their expression taut with focus.

  "I don’t think this looks different from our own Darkness element." Bai Ru muttered under her breath, her tone doubtful yet uneasy.

  But before anyone could respond, the mist began to condense.

  The lazy drift vanished. The shadows spun inward, collapsing into themselves with impossible precision. In the next breath, what remained was a perfectly formed sphere—black as the void, suspended above Li Yan’s palm.

  And it wasn’t the sight that silenced them. It was the feel.

  An invisible pressure rolled outward from the orb, subtle yet suffocating—like ripples spreading across still water.

  The entire room reacted at once.

  Everyone’s eyes narrowed. Their elemental senses—long-honed through years of cultivation—faltered. For the first time, they felt their own Darkness Qi falter, like prey before a predator, trembling as if in submission.

  Cao Lian’s face froze mid-expression, caught between awe and discomfort.

  Bai Ru’s brow furrowed as her Darkness Qi seemed to shy away instinctively. Even Ji Lin’s pupils constricted, the faintest trace of disbelief flickering through them.

  It wasn’t merely powerful. It was dominant.

  The energy radiating from the orb didn’t merely exist—it commanded. It smothered the ambient darkness in the room, replacing it with something heavier… older… almost primordial.

  Ji Xin gripped her sleeve tightly, realizing her own elemental resonance had been crushed beneath his.

  Ji Hong’s voice broke the silence, trembling with awe. "This… Li Yan… your elemental affinity—could it be… Superior Level?"

  Li Yan didn’t answer immediately. He let the sphere linger, allowing its presence to weigh on their senses. Then, as gently as he had summoned it, he released it.

  The sphere dissolved into a wisp of mist and vanished, fading into the air like the last breath of a dream.

  Li Yan lowered his hand, his expression calm and unreadable. Li Yan did not deny it.

  Yet, he let the silence answer.

  Li Yan did his best not to let his Superior Level affinity get out of control, since it was only his second time summoning it, and he still couldn't use it freely because he lacked knowledge about the Superior Level darkness affinity.

  Additionally, he didn’t want to take any risks after learning what happened to Yan Tian during the purification process.

  Li Yan took a deep breath. "I have to learn how to control Superior-Level Darkness affinity."