Zhao Xunan's right hand still tingled with numbness as he spoke, his voice low but steady.
"Stand you?" The two Sky-Repairing Cultivators laughed in unison—the wounded one's hoarse chuckle scraping like blades against stone.
"We uphold Heaven's will, eradicating chaos. How could we tolerate a blight like you?"
Zhao Xunan had expected this. He'd clashed with them before; their arrogance was as predictable as it was infuriating. But the unfairness of it gnawed at him—his parents had been executed over a single word, and now these self-righteous fools judged him a "blight" without proof.
"Had I ever sown chaos?" he pressed.
The two exchanged a glance, the stockier one growling, "Not yet. But our duty is to nip disasters in the bud!"
"You're already troublesome enough. If you reveal your true form, you'll end up as roadkill within a thousand miles!"
Zhao Xunan scoffed. These cowards hid behind their "heavenly mandate," killing on suspicion alone. Did they truly believe themselves gods?
He shook his head, no longer wasting words. With a flick of his wrist, he unsheathed the Heavenly Halberd and lunged forward.
The stocky cultivator met him mid-charge, slashing horizontally with a sword that roared like thunder: "Golden Ox!"
A golden ox materialized, horns glinting, charging at Zhao Xunan's throat.
Anticipating this, Zhao Xunan's left hand snapped to his chest, fingers pinched in a silent incantation: "Blessed Deity's Decree—no killing without cause!"
A beam of white light shot forth, piercing the golden ox's brow. It froze mid-stride, hardening into a stone carapace that trapped the beast. Zhao Xunan darted past, the Heavenly Halberd swinging in an arc: "Die!"
The blade, now shimmering black, cleaved through the air with a deafening hum. The stocky cultivator raised his sword to block—but the Halberd's force shattered his blade, leaving a three-finger-deep gash in the weapon and a crater in the ground.
Zhao Xunan pressed the attack, the Halberd's tip aimed for the man's heart.
"Jiao Wood Dragon!"
The wounded cultivator, now recovered, lunged in, his true qi coalescing into a horned dragon that snapped at Zhao Xunan's arm.
Zhao Xunan's left hand, already primed with a seal, slammed into the dragon's forehead: "General Wen's Order—demons, begone!"
A golden light erupted from his palm, brighter than the sun, vaporizing the dragon instantly. The wounded cultivator was hurled backward, his sword clattering to the ground.
Zhao Xunan didn't pause. He yanked the Heavenly Halberd free and drove it into the stocky cultivator's chest.
"Gurgle—" The man spewed blood, his grip on the Halberd loosening. Zhao Xunan wrenched it free and plunged it into the man's heart. With a wet, crunching sound, the stocky cultivator shrank to a skeleton, his soul scattering.
The wounded cultivator, still conscious, stared in horror as Zhao Xunan turned on him. "Y-you… you're a cultivator?!"
Before he could finish, Zhao Xunan's Halberd pierced his heart. The man's body withered to dust, his spirit dissolving into the wind.
Zhao Xunan clutched his chest, where the Beauty's Finger glowed faintly. That was too close. If not for the Finger's sudden surge of power, he'd be dead.
But as he looked up at the sky, his blood ran cold. The Finger's blast had torn a hole in the heavens, visible for miles. What kind of power was this?
"Immortals…" he muttered. "If even a fraction of their power exists in this world, how could they let themselves fade?"
He shook his head, pushing the thought aside. The fewer who knew of his connection to the Finger, the safer he'd be.
After cleaning the battlefield and erasing all traces of his presence, Zhao Xunan slipped back to the Martial Arts Academy. Zhao Ping'er, oblivious, brought him dinner.
"Staring at books again, Master? You look like a ghost!" she teased, setting down a bowl of congee. "Are the books sucking your lifeblood? Maybe I should throw you to the wolves—free entertainment for everyone!"
Zhao Xunan's eyes twitched. This girl's mouth is sharper than a sword.
Over the next three days, he devoured the Compendium of Rare Herbs, mastering its healing techniques. By the time he emerged, his injuries were gone—and his understanding of the body's meridians had deepened.
Curious, he tested his new skills on Zhao Ping'er. "Let me check your pulse," he said, mimicking a physician's gravity.
"Pfft—Master, you're ridiculous!" She giggled, swatting his hand. "Everyone knows the left hand checks the heart, right the lungs. Are you a quack?"
Zhao Xunan flushed, but his smile didn't fade. "Just making sure you're healthy. Can't have my assistant collapsing on me."
As he spoke, he felt a familiar surge in his meridians. Qi Refining Realm Three—stable.
But his pride faded when Zhao Ping'er mentioned her own breakthrough. "I hit Qi Refining Realm Three last night!" she bragged. "It was easy—just sat there and meditated."
Zhao Xunan's jaw dropped. Months of grueling cultivation for me, and she does it in an hour?
"See? Your hard work rubs off on me!" she said, grinning. "Now you just need to reach Realm Four, and I'll follow in no time!"
Zhao Xunan stared at her, then at the sky. Is it possible… that my growth is tied to hers?
The thought sent a shiver down his spine. If true, then his "heavenly favor" wasn't for him alone.
"Maybe you're the one heaven favors," he said, half-joking.
Zhao Ping'er's grin faltered. "Master, do you think you're close to Realm Four?"
"Me? Ha!" He laughed, though his chest tightened. "Even with my talent, Realm Four is a leap. No miracle pills here."
But Zhao Ping'er only tilted her head, her eyes shining. "Maybe not. I saw something when I broke through—like touching the sky itself. And since I'm tied to you…"
She trailed off, leaving Zhao Xunan to wonder. What if she's right? What if our fates are intertwined?
As he pondered, Zhao Ping'er skipped off, leaving him to stare at the horizon. Somewhere, beyond the clouds, the answer waited.