### Chapter 32: Return to Dianxuan Sect
The cold-faced cultivator slipped away, leaving Lin Yi to return to Dianxuan Sect's mountain gate without further incident. Though he wondered why the other two pursuers hadn't appeared, he brushed it off—with his current strength, he feared no one. For now, his top priority was the sect tournament, where he aimed to become a core disciple.
To avoid exposing his secrets, he'd have to rely solely on spiritual energy, not the power from *Five Elements Body Tempering*. At Level 4, he stood no chance against core disciples. Thus, he resolved to breakthrough to Level 5 in the remaining half-month—a slim hope, but his only one.
Another issue: he'd never bothered learning basic spells like *Earth Wall* or *Fireball* back when he was Level 1. Now, low-tier magic was useless. Instead, he planned to focus on swordsmanship. He'd looted a decent flying sword from a raider, and he'd always admired sword cultivators. Upon returning, his first stop would be the *Treasure Pavilion*—the sect's repository of techniques—to find a sword manual. With luck, it might turn the tide in his tournament challenge.
After over a month away, Lin Yi felt a strange pang of homesickness. He'd cursed Dianxuan Sect countless times, yet stepping back through its gates stirred a faint "returning wanderer" warmth.
The sect looked unchanged. Lin Yi was a nobody; most disciples didn't know him, and life here had gone on without him. But his return as a Level 4 would send ripples through the outer disciples—after all, only Mu Rongfeng had reached Level 4 among them, making him the favorite for the tournament. Lin Yi's leap from Level 2 to 4 would surely shock them.
He headed to his shabby outer disciple quarters. Sunset painted the sky, so he decided to visit the Treasure Pavilion tomorrow. For now, he meditated briefly, then set off to see Zhang Wanshan.
In Dianxuan Sect, only Zhang had shown him genuine kindness. Without Zhang's cover, his month-long absence would've earned him severe punishment. Another deacon, bribed with frequent meals and drinks, had also turned a blind eye. Lin Yi knew relationships needed nurturing—neglect them, and they withered.
"Linzi! When did you get back?"
Zhang Wanshan appeared as Lin Yi reached his residence, grinning when he spotted him.
"Just now. Came to check on you," Lin Yi replied, smiling.
"Haha! Good to know you remember me—my efforts weren't in vain." Zhang's laughter froze, his face slackening. "Wait… you little rascal—you're at Level 4? No way!" His eyes bulged, wide with disbelief.
"Your insight is sharp, Senior Zhang. I've been lucky enough to reach Level 4," Lin Yi said, suppressing a smirk beneath a calm exterior.
"Damn! You're a late bloomer, huh?" Zhang's shock shifted to a scowl. "Four years stuck, then jumping from Level 1 to 4 in two months? Spit it out. How?"
Lin Yi had rehearsed this. "It was luck, really. You saw me hit Level 2—it took years of buildup. Then… Level 4 just happened. I don't know how." He feigned a委屈 (wěiqu, wronged) expression.
"Bullshit! You think I'll buy that?" Zhang glowered. "Spit it out, or I'll lose my temper."
To sell the lie, Lin Yi hesitated, dragging his words: "I… went to Yunmeng Marsh."
"What?!" Zhang roared. "Are you suicidal? With your old cultivation? Raiders there kill without blinking!"
"Yunmeng Marsh?" Zhang's worry melted into speculation. "You must've found a heavenly elixir! That's the only way—no other explanation for this leap!"
Lin Yi let him believe it. He dared not mention *Five Elements Tempering*—the technique that had let him survive raiders, loot pills, and surge in power. Nor would he admit it all traced back to Luo Huapeng's bracelet, which had unlocked the technique. He'd explore the bracelet further after the tournament, once he was stronger.
"Damn luck!" Zhang clapped his shoulder, grinning. "You're a shoo-in for inner disciple now!"
*Inner disciple?* Lin Yi thought. *I'm aiming higher.* Aloud, he said, "Thanks to you. Even as an inner disciple, I'll never forget your kindness."
Zhang nodded approvingly. "Good. Cherish the better resources inner disciples get. Keep cultivating—Foundation Establishment is your real goal. That's when the immortal path opens up."
Lin Yi nodded vigorously.
"Oh, I brought good wine. Should we invite Elder Qiao over?" Lin Yi changed the subject, pulling a jug from his bag.
"Wine? Perfect!" Zhang laughed. "I'll tell the kitchen to fix snacks and fetch Qiao. Wait here."
Soon, Zhang returned with Qiao, who gaped when told of Lin Yi's breakthrough. "Heavenly elixir? You're a lucky devil! Inner disciple for sure—maybe more." His tone warmed, edging toward flattery.
Lin Yi poured wine, and the three drank late into the night, no one using spiritual energy to sober up. By midnight, they stumbled drunk to their quarters—only to instantly clear their heads with a surge of qi once alone.
Back in his room, Lin Yi meditated, eyes closed but mind racing. Tomorrow, the Treasure Pavilion awaited.
Dawn broke, and Lin Yi headed for the pavilion—an imposing stone structure guarded by two stern disciples. He showed his outer disciple token, and they waved him in. Rows of shelves lined the walls, filled with jade slips holding techniques.
He scanned the labels, pausing at *Basic Sword Manuals*. After flipping through several, he found one titled *Misty Rain Sword Art*—a mid-tier technique emphasizing speed and precision, perfect for his flying sword.
"Can I borrow this?" he asked the librarian, an elderly cultivator napping behind a desk.
The man squinted at his token. "Outer disciples can only borrow low-tier manuals. This is mid-tier."
"I'm competing in the tournament. A win could make me inner disciple," Lin Yi said, sliding over ten low-grade spirit stones—his "borrowing fee."
The librarian pocketed the stones, grunting, "Three days. Late return means punishment."
Lin Yi hurried back to his room, eager to practice. Unfolding the jade slip, he infused it with spiritual energy, and the *Misty Rain* incantations flooded his mind—fluid, elegant, and deadly.
For the next two weeks, he threw himself into training: meditating to inch toward Level 5, practicing *Misty Rain* until his sword moved like silver threads through air, and refining his control of the Purple Demon Gourd (though he dared not use it openly).
Word of his Level 4 spread, stirring buzz among outer disciples.
"Lin Yi? Never heard of him. Level 4? Beating Mu Rongfeng?"
"Mu's been Level 4 for months. This Lin guy's a nobody—must've cheated."
Lin Yi ignored the gossip. On the eve of the tournament, he stood in his room, staring at his reflection. From a mocked Level 1 to a tournament contender—all in two months.
*Tomorrow*, he thought, gripping his sword. *Core disciple.*
The next dawn, the tournament grounds buzzed with disciples. Outer disciples lined the fields, chatting nervously; inner and core disciples watched from elevated platforms, aloof. Lin Yi joined the outer disciples, his presence drawing stares—curious, skeptical, hostile.
Mu Rongfeng, a tall, arrogant youth with a sword at his waist, spotted Lin Yi and sneered. "The upstart. Think you can beat me?"
Lin Yi smiled faintly. "We'll see."
The referee, an elder, stepped forward. "Outer disciple tournament rules: ten rounds, single elimination. Top ten advance to challenge any disciple—win, and you take their rank."
The crowd cheered. Lin Yi's journey—from outcast to contender—was about to begin.