Chapter 1: The Exiled Disciple Descends—Even the Dog Weeps

The massive plaque over the mountain gate, carved with gold characters on a black background, read “Heavenly Medical Pavilion.” Under the fading dusk, its surface gleamed with a cold, unforgiving light. The setting sun bled crimson, casting long, jagged shadows from the towering gateway that stretched out like broken teeth, mirroring the fractured state of Lin Ye’s heart. Lin Ye stood at the edge of the mountain path, a faded blue cloth bundle slung over his shoulder. His fingertips gently traced the rough, weathered stone of the marker. The sharp edges bit into his skin, sending a dull ache up his fingers—a grounding, painfully real sensation of being alive. It wasn’t just the humiliation of being cast out that swelled in his chest; there was a strange, unexpected relief, too. For three years, he had lived like a mute rat, small, silent, and suppressed. Now, finally, he could draw a deep breath. The night wind picked up, snapping his hem with a violent flutter, yet it couldn’t sweep away the profound exhaustion that clung to his soul.

Black Charcoal, nestled in his arms, suddenly thrashed about violently. The pup’s dark, beady eyes locked onto Lin Ye, and a low, mournful whine rumbled from its throat. It wasn’t a normal dog’s yelp; it was a guttural, blood-scented wail, as if a thousand fine needles were pricking Lin Ye’s brain. Each twitch of nerve endings sent jolts of pain through him. Lin Ye frowned, forcing down his irritation. He closed his eyes, took three slow breaths, and let his consciousness sink into a void of absolute silence. The wind, the chirping insects, the distant clatter of the watchman’s wooden block—all of it faded into a hazy, far-off echo.

Ten Thousand Phenomena Listening: Awakened.

Life force within a hundred-meter radius flooded into his mind in a tidal wave. Every sound stripped away its surface layer, leaving only the raw, physiological signals beneath. Black Charcoal’s mental scream was terrifyingly clear: an empty stomach cramping violently, stomach acid burning the mucous lining. The pain registered like a dull knife cutting through meat, pulsing against Lin Ye’s senses. Simultaneously, in the tall grass nearby, a wild pheasant’s heartbeat spiked. Fear translated into a sharp frequency that exploded in Lin Ye’s ears. He opened his eyes, his gaze calm as he watched the startle-stricken pheasant. He confirmed it was unharmed, merely spooked. The bird flapped its wings and vanished into the deep shrubs, leaving only a faint rustle of leaves. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Black Charcoal, hang in there. It’s tough going hungry, isn’t it?” he murmured.

The pup’s frantic whining stopped abruptly. Lin Ye flicked his finger, releasing a low-frequency sound wave that perfectly matched the threshold for canine nerve soother. Black Charcoal’s body instantly went slack, settling obediently against Lin Ye’s leg. Its damp nose nudged his palm, puffing a breath of cool, wet air against his skin. In the shadows beneath the distant treetops, several dark figures emerged. One of Wang Ba’s inner-sect disciples sneered, breaking the eerie silence.

“Well, well. Look who it is. The grand genius of our Heavenly Medical Pavilion, huh?”

The man flicked a silver nail between his fingers. In the dim light, the metal glinted with a chilling coldness. His eyes held a contempt that would fit a dead cockroach better than a fellow cultivator.

“So, you got tossed out, and you’re dragging your dog with you? Don’t worry about that filthy beastie biting you, right?”

Lin Ye didn’t even lift an eyebrow. He just patted Black Charcoal’s head gently. The dog let out a soft, contented purr, responding to his master’s care. The disciple’s face turned green. The surrounding disciples joined in, bursting into loud, mocking laughter that echoed off the valley walls, piercing and grating.

“A useless trash is useless trash. Can’t even handle a petty incident like this, yet you dare speak of the medical arts?”

Lin Ye rose slowly to his feet. His gaze drifted past the noisy crowd, landing on the massive Iron-Backed Bear demon beast standing behind them. The beast was growling low, agitated by the mockery. Saliva dripped from its fangs, sizzling against the fallen leaves and corroding the ground. But any amusement in Lin Ye’s eyes vanished without a trace. In his Listening, he caught the sickly thud of the beast’s internal organs—the sound of bones misaligning and tendons tearing. It wasn’t a roar; it was the sign of a life collapsing.

His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut through the wind with crystalline clarity: “Quiet. That beast of yours has at most half an incense stick left.”

The laughter died in their throats. The disciple froze for a second before erupting into even harsher, disbelieving mockery.

“Bullshit! That’s a Spirit Iron Bear personally raised by Senior Brother Wang Ba. Its bones and muscles are hard as iron. What the hell do you think you see that says it’s dying?”

Lin Ye shook his head, his tone terrifyingly flat.

“Its third rib is broken. The shard has pierced the lung. Right now, it’s using its last ounce of strength to hold itself together. The moment it attacks or gets too worked up, its organs will rupture, and it’ll drop dead on the spot.”

Another of Wang Ba’s disciples let out a cold chuckle and stepped forward.

“Lin Ye, you’re good at playing the mystic. Care to bet? I’ll have it bite you right now. Let’s see if it dies.”

Lin Ye didn’t flinch. He simply stared at the Iron-Backed Bear.

“It can barely stand, let alone bite me. It’ll choke on its own breath first.”

The onlookers began to murmur. Some were curious, others dismissive, but most were just cold, eager spectators waiting for the show to end. Wang Ba himself wasn’t present, but his core lieutenants stood there, representing the Young Master’s will. Seeing that Lin Ye wouldn’t back down, a flash of cruelty lit up the disciple’s eyes.

“If you’re going to stay stubborn, don’t blame us for being ruthless. Black Charcoal, wait there. Today, we’ll show you what real Beast-Medical Arts look like.”

He gave a sharp command, gesturing for the Iron-Backed Bear to advance.

Lin Ye sighed, stepping aside to give Black Charcoal more room, but he didn’t move from his spot.

“I’d advise you to back up three steps. It could collapse at any second. Don’t get crushed.”

The disciple’s face turned bright red. Lin Ye’s casual indifference had pushed him to the breaking point.

“One more word out of your mouth, and I’ll hit you myself.”

Before the sentence even faded, the Iron-Backed Bear let out a cry of agony so sharp it seemed unnatural. It wasn’t the dignified low growl of a predator; it was the shrill, piteous scream of a cub with its tail stepped on. Its limbs buckled, and its massive body slammed into the ground with a heavy thud, kicking up a cloud of dust. A mist of foul-smelling blood sprayed from its nose and mouth. Beneath its previously tough fur, the twisted outlines of broken bones were faintly visible.

Silence fell over the scene.

The disciples recoiled in horror; one even fell to his knees in fright. The Iron-Backed Bear convulsed twice, then went completely still. Lin Ye watched the aftermath, his voice light.

“Third rib. Jagged break, embedded in the lung. I told you, it couldn’t hold out.”

The disciple was pale, his lips trembling, unable to form a word.

Ignoring them now, Lin Ye bent down and picked up Black Charcoal, who was already calm again. He turned to leave. He thought this farce was over, that he could quietly descend the mountain and start a new life. But just as he took his first step, an old, deep voice rang out from the shadows behind him.

“Stop.”

Lin Ye halted, but he didn’t turn around.

“Your Listening technique… when did it become so transcendent?”

A figure emerged slowly from the shade of the trees. It was the old Eunuch Elder of the Heavenly Medical Pavilion. He wore a faded gray robe, his face gaunt, but his eyes were as deep and unfathomable as a stagnant pond.

Lin Ye stopped and bowed respectfully.

“Senior… I just got lucky. A stroke of chance.”

The Elder narrowed his eyes, sweeping his gaze over Lin Ye.

“Luck? There’s no such thing as that many coincidences. I observed that demon beast for three days and missed the internal anomaly. You closed your eyes for three breaths and heard the bone crack. This is no ordinary medical skill.”

Lin Ye’s heart skipped a beat. He knew his hidden talent was about to slip through his fingers.

“Elder, you misunderstand. I merely…”

“No need for excuses.” The Elder raised a hand, cutting him off. A transmission talisman had appeared in his palm. The paper burst with light, transforming into a streak of flowing radiance that shot straight into the clouds.

“Return to the mountain in three days to receive your punishment.”

Lin Ye watched the light dissipate, feeling a complex mix of emotions.

“Punishment?”

“Yes.” The Elder turned his back, his tone neutral, betraying no emotion.

“The Heavenly Medical Pavilion does not support idlers, nor those who don’t know their limits. Since you can listen to the voices of all things, you should understand that ‘punishment’ in this world is never just about taking a beating.”

Lin Ye gripped Black Charcoal tighter, feeling the pup’s warm, steady heartbeat against his chest.

“Three days. I remember.”

“Watch your step.” The Elder let out a light huff, and his figure gradually melted into the darkness.

Lin Ye stood there, looking at the last sliver of sunset sinking below the horizon. His heart was both anxious and anticipatory. Perhaps this expulsion wasn’t an ending, but a new beginning. But right now, he just wanted to get as far away as possible from this place thick with schemes and conspiracies.

Night fell like ink. Lin Ye walked with his pack on his back, the dry twigs under his feet snapping crisply in the silence. Black Charcoal shivered in his arms, and a rumbling growl echoed from its belly.

“Hungry… Master, feels like a little beast is fighting in my tummy…” Black Charcoal’s voice rang in Lin Ye’s head, tinged with tears.

Lin Ye looked down, gently rubbing the pup’s head. His fingertip traced a weak sound wave. Invisible and intangible, it seeped into Black Charcoal’s body like spring rain, soothing the acidic storm of its hunger. The dog’s eyes narrowed in comfort, a contented rumble rising from its throat.

In the distance, two shadows trailed after them like ghosts.

“That trash. Does he really think a stray dog will keep him alive for three days?”

“Shh. Keep it down. The Heavenly Medical Pavilion’s elders letting him go? That’s not kindness. It’s more like… bait.”

Lin Ye’s ears twitched. Although his Three-Breath technique wasn’t fully stable yet, his senses were currently hyper-sharp. The two’s whispers hadn’t escaped his perception. He pretended not to notice, quickened his pace, and turned into a narrow valley.

Sheer cliffs rose on either side of the valley. The moonlight was blocked, plunging the surroundings into a darkness as grim as hell. Suddenly, a foul, stinking odor hit him.

“Woof!” Black Charcoal burst free of the hold, rushing to the wall and barking wildly. A flash of human-like terror flashed in its eyes.

Lin Ye frowned tight. In that instant, he had heard the faint, subtle grinding of bones from the shadows at the wall’s base. It wasn’t the rustle of ordinary wild beasts; it was the crisp sound of an armored demon shedding its skin.

“Stop barking.” He hissed, tapping Black Charcoal’s forehead with a finger, releasing another calming wave.

The dog whined and crouched low, but its dark eyes were filled with unease.

Lin Ye crouched down, pretending to tie his shoelaces, but actually listening intently to the side. Just as he suspected, the sound was growing denser, accompanied by a viscous, dripping sensation. His heart turned cold—this seemingly desolate valley concealed a young Venomous Flood Dragon that hadn’t even formed yet, and it was hunting.

“If you want to die ahead, no need to detour.”

A hoarse voice exploded from the shadows. Two hands holding short knives emerged, blocking the path. Lin Ye didn’t look up; a cold smirk tugged at his lips. He heard the sharp whistle of the blades slicing through the air, and more importantly, he heard the sudden stop of their heartbeats—pure fear. Because that Venomous Flood Dragon was resting on their backs.

“Run.” Lin Ye whispered.

Before the word faded, a muffled roar erupted from the depths of the valley, and the earth shuddered beneath his feet.