The next morning, Wuji opened his eyes, though he couldn't tell if it truly was morning. The sky outside was still covered by the same dark gray clouds that had lingered for days, unmoving and refusing to rain or let the sun shine through.
His body felt light and free from fatigue or soreness. With Anatomical Insight, he had executed every movement of his training perfectly, delivering every strike deliberately, and now the results were evident.
He sat up and stretched. Then he looked around the hut. Meiyin was not at the hut.
His eyes drifted to the water pots by the door. One was missing. "So, she went to the well in this cold morning?" he thought, frowning. "Again?"
Then, he stood up from the mat he had been sleeping on. "I should buy a stronger bed. Sleeping on the ground is annoying now that I weigh like a stone statue," he thought.
He splashed cold water onto his face at the corner of the hut and brushed his teeth with a twig. The familiar taste of dry bark in his mouth.
Then, he walked to the iron pot containing the leftover meat from last night's training session. He placed it over the fire, sat cross-legged nearby, and waited.
But he wasn't idle. He revisited the Iron Marrow Body Scripture in his mind, analyzing it as if it were an unsolved problem.
"I need more martial techniques," he thought. "Without more samples, I can't make meaningful modifications. The Iron Marrow Scripture is too narrow. I've optimized bone strength, but now I need muscle and skin refinement techniques."
He tapped his knuckle against his knee, thinking faster.
"Training bones alone would be foolish. What good are dense bones if the muscles can't generate enough force? What if the skin rips off on impact? No, I need balance: reinforcement. Structure."
His eyes narrowed. "I'll visit those rumored martial arts schools in the city. I'll buy whatever I can from them and study everything. Then, I'll create my own personal technique."
The fire crackled. The scent of reheated meat filled the hut and he continued contemplating.
"Brother," Meiyin said, snapping Wuji out of his thoughts. He turned to see her returning from the well with a full water pot balanced on her head.
She set it down beside him, stood to his left, and grinned. "Did you hear what happened to those hateful bastards?"
"Who?" Wuji asked.
"Linglin's family, of course," she said, already giggling.
Wuji squinted for a second. "Linglin... Ah, that girl who bullied you. What happened? Did a demonic cultivator drop by their house or something? Why do you look so happy?"
"That girl used to brag about her brother becoming a martial artist. She said that cultivators would choose him to pursue…that thing—"
"The Dao."
"Yes, the Dao!" She laughed harder. "Well, now her brother's a eunuch!"
Wuji blinked. Then he burst into laughter, too. Not because it was funny, but because his revenge plan has finally yielded results. "Haha...damn fools. They finally gave in," he thought.
He suppressed the grin threatening to spread wider than it should. Just two more days until the cultivators arrived. Some of those pretending to be calm had clearly panicked.
"Is he the only one?" he asked as he looked at her.
"Nope," Meiyin said proudly. "A bunch of others did it too. They said it would increase their chances of being chosen. Now, they're all being treated by the Sixth Elder. Guess what?" She leaned in.
"The sixth elder's son refused treatment. He said he's cutting off 'worldly desires.'"
She laughed again, baffled by it all.
But Wuji? He was calm inside, smiling with her on the outside.
He looked down at the meat in the pot, still bubbling over the fire. "Should I call them idiots or desperate?" he thought mockingly.
Wuji's expression suddenly changed. He raised a finger to his lips. Meiyin stopped laughing mid-giggle and became serious immediately.
"What's wrong, brother?"
"They're here," Wuji said, smiling faintly.
"Who?" she asked.
"The eunuchs of Mud Fall Village."
He stood up and walked to the door before they could knock.
He wouldn't risk leaving behind his gold coins or Meiyin, as he wanted to ensure that the coins he scammed from them remained undiscovered inside the hut.
Just outside, stood seven familiar figures; Liang, Ren, Yulian, the Third Elder and Chen Yi's lapdogs. The newest addition was Ling Lin's brother, his face twisted with shame and fury.
Their eyes burned with hostility, except for Yulian, whose face remained calm. Even the Third Elder's face was sour, though less from anger and more from discomfort.
Liang limped forward, his voice hoarse. "Yin Li, you bastard...how dare you ruin our future!"
Wuji tilted his head acting confused, ignoring the others, and looked at the elder.
He bowed politely. "Third Elder. What's going on?"
The elder cleared his throat, his voice tight. "The martial arts technique you gave them caused irreparable harm to the young men of our village. The chief has summoned you. You'll stand trial for it."
Wuji raised an eyebrow. "What martial arts technique? Did you say I 'gave them'? They robbed me. I was the one wronged," his voice was calm—righteous, even.
The Third Elder's mouth twitched. He remembered Liang bragging about stealing Wuji's technique. But now? Now, they needed someone to blame. The village needed a scapegoat for their foolishness and embarrassment.
"Just come with us," the elder said curtly. "The chief will decide what's just."
He reached out and grabbed Wuji's arm. But Wuji twisted his hand slightly, and the elder's grip slipped like water through fingers.
The elder stared at his hand, stunned.
"What...?"
Liang and the others blinked, shaken, especially Yulian who was shaken to the core.
"Did he just overpower the Third Elder?" Yulian muttered, her stomach twisting.
"No way. He can't have gotten this strong. Is he going to retaliate for the cuts I gave him? Dammit..."
"It must be that the third elder didn't exert enough force. Yes, that must be it. There's no way a waste can be stronger than the third elder, a peak second-rate martial artist," Ren said out loud, grimacing.
Wuji dusted off his sleeve as if the Third Elder's hand were disgusting. Then, he stepped forward. "All right, let's go. I'd like to see what kind of justice the chief is handing out these days."
The group parted instinctively, making way as Wuji walked through them.
Meiyin rushed out of the hut behind him, her eyes wide.
The Third Elder watched Wuji's back and felt unease, a sensation he hadn't felt before. The boy he had ignored was no longer the same.
Tension hung in the air in front of the chief's hut. The village chief sat rigidly in his wooden chair, jaw clenched, fingers tapping slowly on the armrest.
Villagers and elders stood around him in an uncomfortable silence, along with five injured young men. The only sound was the occasional rustle of windblown dust.
He stared at the dirt path, deep in thought. The plan had been so clear. So precise.
Just a few days ago, he promised his older brother that he would prepare the next batch of servants for the sect. Not just any servants, but reliable, strong young men trained to endure hardship.
They would win favor in the outer court and, eventually, bring opportunities back to the village.
They dreamed of transforming this forgotten speck of land into something greater—first, a kingdom. Then an empire. Even crumbs from the immortals could establish dynasties in the mortal world.
He himself had given up on joining the sect when his brother and the other young men from the village joined decades ago.
His decision wasn't just due to his lack of talent; his brother and the others from their generation had entrusted him with the village's future.
Now, that future was unraveling.
Servant positions were rare because the immortals could find billions if they wanted; martial artists were everywhere in the mortal world.
For the first time in decades, they had a chance to send more than seedlings. But now, that chance was ruined.
Most of the strong young men were now broken in body and spirit thanks to a single technique from Yin Li.
"Yin Li." The name burned in his mind.
He sighed through his nose, suppressing the urge to grind his teeth.
"Why did I let myself get distracted by Chen Yi?" he thought bitterly. He had focused too much on training the perfect disciple. He had been too confident.
He glanced at the Fifth Elder, who stood a few paces away to his left. He was silent, calm, and dangerous in his eyes.
Just a few weeks ago, he would have scolded him without hesitation. But now?
He could tell that the Fifth Elder had reached the peak of the First Rate Realm and was about to step into the Acquired Realm.
This meant that the chief's trump card, which had been given to him by his brother, wouldn't work. Political pressure wouldn't work either, nor would appealing to the villagers.
The Fifth Elder was a straightforward person; it was impossible to predict what he might do. Only subtle threats might work, but he might not even care about them.
He had to tread carefully. The village was no longer his alone.
Five minutes later, Wuji arrived at the village chief's hut, with Meiyin close behind. The third elder and the group of shame-faced young men trailing behind him.
A crowd had already gathered, whispering and staring at Wuji as if expecting a public execution or a miracle.
Wuji glanced at them once, then sneered faintly.
"Just like last time... All of them came to see a show. Useless lot," he muttered under his breath, loud enough for only Meiyin to hear.
Her fists clenched at her sides as she shot a sharp glare toward the villagers watching them, as if her eyes alone could burn through their scorn.
Wuji stepped forward and stood a few paces from the chief. He was calm and steady. He bowed slightly; not deeply and not submissively.
"Village Chief," Wuji said clearly, his voice ringing across the tense courtyard. "May I ask why I'm being put on trial for a crime I didn't commit? I was the one robbed of my martial arts manual, not the other way around."
His words struck the crowd like a slap. Some lowered their heads. Others frowned but said nothing.
The chief's expression didn't change. However, his fingers, resting on the arm of his chair, twitched once.
"Yin Li," he said slowly. "You're not here for a trial. Merely an inquiry. Several young men in this village have been irreparably harmed while practicing a martial arts technique that they claim you taught them."
Wuji didn't blink. "Their claim," he repeated. "You mean the ones who robbed me blind get to play victim now?"
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. The third elder stepped forward. "Enough! Don't try to twist this around. Whether you handed it over willingly or they took it, the technique still came from you. That makes you responsible!"
Wuji smiled slowly and dangerously.
"So, if a thief steals a knife from a blacksmith, stabs himself in the groin with it, and bleeds to death, is it the blacksmith's fault?" he asked. "Good logic."
A few people in the back who weren't affected and had some friction with those who were began to laugh, but they were quickly silenced by a single glare from the chief.
Liang stepped forward, his voice strained and his face pale. "The manual said that castration would increase our chances of becoming second-rate within a week. We thought—"
Wuji raised his right hand making liang silent.
"The technique works," Wuji said plainly.
"What!?" The eunuchs broke into murmurs. "If it works, then did we train wrong?" Ren asked, his voice rising with disbelief.
"Don't just take his word," Yulian cut in sharply, her eyes scanning the flicker of hope returning to the others. "You're letting him manipulate you."
"What do you know?" Mu Yun snapped. "It's not like you castrated yourself."
The chief's brow twitched. "What do you mean it works? Nine young men ruined their futures with that technique. Do you think we can't see through the nonsense?"
Wuji gave him a blank look, then turned his attention to the Fifth Elder.
"I think the Fifth Elder can confirm that I've reached third-rate," he said. "What's more, I did it in two weeks using that same manual. Even though, as the Fifth Elder himself once said, with my weak meridians, it should have taken a decade—if ever."
Gasps broke among the crowd.
"But let's be clear," Wuji continued. "The technique doesn't say, 'Castrate yourself and wait for heaven's blessing.' It requires sincerity. Clarity of intent. It requires the rejection of worldly desire. A severing of the ego. But these... hopefuls?"
He gestured at Liang and the others. "They were just desperate. They didn't understand the purpose of the technique; they just wanted results."
He let that sink in.
"They weren't wrong to try," Wuji added, turning to the crowd. "They were pressured. Burdened by this village's ambitions. And who made those ambitions unbearable?"
His gaze fell squarely on the chief.
"It was you. You pushed them. You promised them heaven and glory in exchange for the sect's favors. You told them that they must rise or be forgotten. Now that your gamble has failed, you're looking for someone to blame."
The already tense air grew heavier. The villagers whispered. Some avoided the chief's gaze, some looked at him with hidden hostility; he was now clenching the arms of his chair.
"I refuse to be your scapegoat. If you want to blame someone to the immortal cultivators. Go find that wandering master," he said. Then, he walked back to the hut to continue his training.
Before he could get far, the fifth elder's voice echoed from behind him. "Yin Li,"
Wuji looked back. "Come to the dojo tonight," he said. Then, he walked away from the gathering.
Wuji gave the faintest nod. Then continued walking, the tension still thick in the air behind him.