Chapter 3: The Saintess Su Qing Appears

The dazzling ball of spiritual light in the distance finally flickered out, snuffed out by some invisible hand as brutally as a candle caught in a storm, leaving behind a silence so heavy it felt like death settling over the ruins of the meditation chamber. Shattered tiles littered the ground, the air still thick with the acrid burn of overloaded spiritual power mixed with the chill of the night dew. It was a cold that crept down your spine and made your blood run ice-cold.

Lin Yuan slowly pulled his gaze away. His fingertips trembled, just barely, a vibration so faint it was almost imperceptible. It wasn’t fear; it was the lingering turbulence of his spiritual sea still churning deep within his core. He quickly smoothed his sleeves, a motion soft but swift, masking the exhaustion that clung to him after tapping into the system.

A bead of cold sweat traced the line of his temple, soaking through his collar, yet the muscles in his face remained locked tight. Not a single expression slipped.

The trap had changed. Zhao Feng, that loyal hound, had become a discarded pawn, which was the best warning anyone could get. In this brutal, survival-of-the-fittest cultivation world, the fate of a discarded pawn was usually far worse than that of a hunting dog. Lin Yuan had no intention of becoming the next piece to be tossed aside. He took a deep breath, the white mist of his exhalation looking particularly ephemeral under the moonlight.

He turned and vanished into the shadows. His footsteps were so light they were practically nonexistent, as if he had never been there at all. Despite the gravel under his boots, there wasn’t a single sound. Each step landed with precision in the dead zones where shadows intersected, moving like a ghost lurking in the dark.

When Lin Yuan reached the edge of the medicinal fields, he was just about to sit down and rest when the system’s cold, mechanical voice rang out in his mind.

“System Alert: High-level emotional fluctuation detected within fifty meters. Purity is exceptionally high. Type: Curiosity. Target locked: Sect Saintess, Su Qing.”

The voice felt like a current shot directly into his ear canal, clear enough to make him shudder. Lin Yuan’s pupils contracted slightly, and a cynical smirk flickered in his heart. Old Chen that old bastard thought his setup was airtight, but he had forgotten that Spirit Plant Valley was essentially Su Qing’s private domain. For Su Qing, these medicinal fields were more than just a place to cultivate; they were her window into controlling the sect’s resources and looking down on the mundane struggles of mortals.

At that moment, a figure in white, as cold and clear as ice, was patrolling the narrow paths of the fields. Moonlight poured over Su Qing, outlining her with a faint silver border that made her look sacred and untouchable. Her face was stunningly beautiful, but her eyes held an unmelting chill. Wherever her gaze fell, several disciples who had been slacking off dropped to their knees, kowtowing in terror. They wouldn’t even dare to breathe heavily; their foreheads rested on the cold stone tiles, their bodies shaking with fear.

She paid no mind to the chaotic scene before her; all that surfaced was a fleeting, barely noticeable disappointment in the depths of her eyes. It wasn’t disdain for the disciples’ laziness, but a weariness with the stagnant, dead atmosphere. As a Saintess on the verge of a major breakthrough, she craved vitality, abnormal changes that defied convention, not this day-to-day mediocrity.

Lin Yuan pressed himself low to the ground and quietly activated the system’s Emotion Resonance function. He closed his eyes, sinking his consciousness into the hazy system interface, guiding Su Qing’s curiosity about this barren field into a weak but pure positive emotion.

The process drained his mental energy rapidly. Fine beads of sweat beaded on his forehead. Every thread of emotion he guided required control so precise it had to be absolute; one slip-up and a high-level cultivator would notice immediately.

As his finger tapped gently, the withered Purple Lingzhi grass, watered by the spirit liquid, began to mutate rapidly. Within ten seconds, the leaves unfurled, and a pale purple light flowed through their veins. Finally, it bloomed into a rare Star-Condensing Purple Lingzhi, releasing a fragrance that wasn’t strong, but possessed a purity that struck the soul, as if it could wash away all dust.

Su Qing’s cold, purposeful stride stopped abruptly. Her nose twitched lightly; that极致 purity of spiritual energy caused her to frown. Subconsciously, she took a few steps closer. Her pace shifted from patrol to an exploration drawn by instinct.

She saw Lin Yuan, the “waste” who was always mocked, crouching in the dirt. In his hands, he held the spirit seedling that shimmered with starlight, his expression calm. Under the moonlight, his profile looked incredibly peaceful, as if life, death, honor, and disgrace had nothing to do with him.

Su Qing looked down at him, her voice cold and sharp like shattered ice: “Lin Yuan, what is that in your hand?”

Lin Yuan stood up, brushing the dirt from his knees with slow, deliberate movements. He raised his eyes to meet that icy gaze and offered a faint smile. There was no sycophancy in it, only the depth of a still lake: “If you’re here for a patrol, Senior Sister, you might want to look at this Star-Condensing Purple Lingzhi first.”

Su Qing’s gaze swept over the seedling. Her pupils dilated violently before snapping back to calm, and the killing intent radiating from her body became even more freezing. The air around them seemed to solidify; even the insects stopped chirping.

She had never imagined that this trash, last place in the sect’s grand competition, could cultivate a spirit medicine of this caliber. Star-Condensing Purple Lingzhi was a sight unseen in a hundred years and a crucial auxiliary ingredient for refining pills to break through to the Nascent Soul stage.

Su Qing stepped forward, a note of scrutiny adding to her icy tone: “What is this? It’s not recorded in the sect’s classics. Where did you get it?”

Lin Yuan clutched the seedling to his chest and spoke lightly: “Self-researched. If you don’t believe me, just take it to a pill refiner for verification. This seedling only recognizes my life force. If anyone else touches it, it’ll probably wither.” He said it casually, even with a hint of teasing, which was exactly Lin Yuan’s best camouflage. He was using this nonchalant attitude to hide the high-speed logical chain racing through his mind.

Su Qing narrowed her eyes, her gaze scraping over Lin Yuan’s face like a blade, trying to see through the truth in his calm, untroubled eyes. The wind brushed through her hair, but it couldn’t melt the ice in her pupils.

She realized that beneath this seemingly submissive young man lay an unsettling sense of absolute control. It was the composure of a hunter watching its prey, even though, at this very moment, he was just a lamb waiting to be slaughtered.

Lin Yuan didn’t retreat. Instead, riding the residual effects of the Barrier-Breaking Spirit Powder in the air, he probed: “Senior Sister patrolling in the dead of night seems quite uninterested in the bottom-tier disciples. Unless... you’ve heard some rumors?”

Su Qing frowned tightly; she had clearly detected the barb in Lin Yuan’s words. It was like a tiny needle, gently pricking her defenses. But she cared more about the strategic value this spirit medicine held for the upcoming sect grand competition. In the face of such profit, personal honor or emotional fluctuations could be set aside for now.

She suppressed the surging killing intent in her heart, her tone turning colder, carrying the authority that brooked no refusal: “I don’t care why you’re spying on sect secrets, but this spirit medicine, starting from today, belongs to the Saintess’s Residence.”

On the surface, Lin Yuan complied, lowering his eyelids, but internally, he was rapidly calculating how to use Su Qing’s heightened curiosity to catalyze more spirit medicines, accumulating the capital for arbitrage. The more Su Qing cared, the higher the system’s feedback value would be, making his subsequent schemes easier. This spirit medicine was just bait. The real hook was hidden in those secret potions in his sleeves.

Su Qing turned to leave, but stopped at the last moment, looking back at Lin Yuan over her shoulder. The night wind whipped her robe, revealing her long, pale legs, making her seem even more out of reach: “Remember this. If you dare leak the secret of this seedling to anyone else, it’s a crime of deceiving sect laws. This Seat will not show mercy.”

Lin Yuan watched Su Qing’s back, the corner of his mouth curling into a faint, barely-there arc. It vanished in an instant, known only to him for its deeper meaning.

Just as Su Qing was about to disappear into the night, Lin Yuan suddenly spoke up: “Wait, Senior Sister. There’s one more secret about this Star-Condensing Purple Lingzhi that might give the sect a bigger headache than its effects.”

Su Qing froze, the cold aura around her spiking. She slowly turned, a sharp glint in her eyes: “Speak.”

Lin Yuan pointed to the faint gold light hidden at the roots of the seedling. In the night, it looked particularly eerie: “Its internal structure contains a property that counteracts ‘Bloodline Suppression.’ If put into a pill, it can cure the hidden ailment of the Saintess’s lineage.”

Su Qing was stunned. Her gaze locked onto Lin Yuan, waves crashing in her mind, but it was unclear why this haughty Saintess was so sensitive to the matter. Her bloodline ailment was her deepest-kept secret; even her master didn’t fully know about it. How could Lin Yuan see through this fog? Ripples of emotion surfaced in her eyes again. This time, it wasn’t curiosity, but deep wariness and investigation.

The coldness in Su Qing’s eyes intensified. Spiritual pressure flickered at her fingertips, a killing aura lurking beneath the surface: “You dare probe into this Seat’s secrets? Where did you get this seedling? If you dare fabricate a single lie, don’t blame my sword for being merciless.”

Lin Yuan sneered internally but put on a face of genuine panic. He quickly stepped back half a pace, lowering his voice: “Senior Sister misunderstands. Disciple wasn’t spying; it was... a system alert.”

He almost blurted it out, but forced himself to swallow the word “system” and changed it: “Disciple discovered this mutant seedling while tidying the fields. Combining that with records in ancient texts, I deduced it might counteract a specific type of bloodline miasma. Disciple didn’t know it was Senior Sister’s ailment, and certainly had no intention of prying. If you don’t believe me, take the seedling. Disciple has no objection.”

Su Qing stared at him hard. Her spiritual probe didn’t dig deep; she just sensed that the seedling indeed contained a strange, gold-wood attribute, completely different from the “Star-Condensing Purple Lingzhi” in the classics. It looked more like an unknown mutant species. She withdrew her probe, her expression complex: “There is no record of this in the ancient texts. You...”

“The ancient texts describe the Star-Condensing Purple Lingzhi from a thousand years ago. This one? It might just be the ‘key to breaking the deadlock’ you’ve been looking for.” Lin Yuan hammered the point while the iron was hot, his tone sincere, sparking Su Qing’s curiosity once more. He knew Su Qing’s pride wouldn’t let her admit that an Outer Gate disciple had seen through her, but her pain over her own ailment desperately needed a solution.

Su Qing was silent for a long time. The cold aura around her slightly receded. In the end, she didn’t order Lin Yuan killed. Instead, she said coldly, “This seedling, this Seat will reclaim. As for you...”

She gave him a meaningful look. “The grand competition is approaching. I’ve been watching your performance in the Outer Gate. If you truly seek cultivation, prove on the battlefield that you’re worthy of this opportunity. If you play any tricks...”

With her hands tucked into her sleeves, her figure vanished into the night wind. “This Seat will show you the meaning of a Saintess’s thunderous rage.”

Lin Yuan watched the empty exit, the smile on his lips widening. Su Qing hadn’t killed him; she had taken the seedling. That meant she genuinely needed the medicine and had developed a subtle mix of wariness and interest in him. That kind of attention was more valuable than simple hostility.

He turned back to the medicinal fields, sliding a yellowed scrap of ancient text from his sleeve. He rubbed it gently with his fingertips. It wasn’t a recipe; it was a long-lost pill-refining mental technique—the Spirit Devouring Guide. This was the real bait he had prepared. Su Qing would come for the seedling, and she would come again, lured by the ultimate temptation of the pill path. And then, he would detonate the second wave of emotional fluctuations.

The night grew deeper. In the distance, on the sect’s main peak, a shocking thunderclap erupted, illuminating the glint of greed and calculation in the depths of Lin Yuan’s pupils. He whispered softly, “Step two begins.”