The air in the narrow canyon was thick with dust and the stench of blood. Iron Fist Zhang, a Foundation Establishment cultivator, took one look at the young, quiet girl who had neutralized his guards with effortless precision and laughed-a sound like grinding stone.
"A girl who fights without a sword. Are you trying to woo me, little servant?" Zhang roared, raising his own massive, gauntlet-clad fist, which glowed faintly with coarse Qi.
Mei Lan did not answer. She had only enough pure Sword Qi left for one decisive exchange, and she would not waste it on threats.
Zhang lunged, relying on the overwhelming momentum of his cultivation stage. His fist was aimed at her head, a technique renowned for turning opponents into paste.
Mei Lan's eyes flickered. The Innate Sword Soul instantly parsed the brute's technique: a clumsy, horizontal thrust with power originating entirely from the shoulder. His Dao Code was simple: force and mass.
She did not evade. She met the strike, not with a fist, but with a perfectly timed, delicate palm strike to the inside of his wrist.
[Observer's Eye Activated. Target: Iron Fist Zhang. Weakness: Unstable Qi flow at elbow joint during peak extension.]
The pure, high-density Sword Qi she transmitted was only a thread, but its purity was divine-grade. It slipped through Zhang's coarse, defensive Qi like water through dry sand, shattering the microscopic equilibrium of his power.
Zhang felt a searing, paralyzing pain as his entire arm went numb. He staggered back, roaring in disbelief. "Impossible! What is that energy?"
The six core disciples rushed forward, sensing their leader's sudden weakness. They attacked with synchronized swords and spears.
Mei Lan vanished. She didn't retreat; she utilized the small opening created by Zhang's staggering, moving laterally through the torrent of disciples. She used her empty hands, delivering lightning-fast, precise strikes to key pressure points. Her technique wasn't about raw offense, but spiritual disruption.
Purity and precision always defeat brute force.
With each hit, she triggered a brief, overwhelming flare of the disciples' own Qi, forcing their spiritual energy to implode harmlessly. They dropped, clutching their chests, their spiritual foundations shaken to their core. None were dead, but they were neutralized and irrelevant.
Mei Lan turned back to the trembling Zhang. "The Flowing Spirit Jade," she demanded, her voice a flat monotone. "Where is it?"
Zhang, gripping his useless arm, finally felt true fear. He saw the cold, inhuman focus in her eyes. "It's inside... the strongbox at the end of the canyon..."
Mei Lan didn't wait. She moved past him, leaving him to nurse his wound. She found the strongbox and, rather than attempting to pick the complex lock, simply channeled a concentrated sliver of Sword Qi into the steel seam. The metal parted cleanly, sizzling slightly.
Inside, the Flowing Spirit Jade pulsed softly, alongside bundles of Iron-Wood Grass and several pouches of Spirit Stones.
[Resource Acquisition: Flowing Spirit Jade (1 cluster) obtained. Qi Saturation: Immediate Refill Required.]
Mei Lan consumed the Flowing Spirit Jade immediately. A wave of clean, potent spiritual energy surged through her meridians, feeding the starving Innate Sword Soul. Her Qi Saturation instantly stabilized.
[Cultivation Status: Foundation Establishment Stage 5. Qi Saturation: 95%.]
She gathered the remaining resources, filling a small pouch. The satisfaction was purely pragmatic. The debt was paid, the goal achieved. The bandit lair was now her resource cache.
Zhang watched her from the canyon entrance, utterly defeated. "Who are you?" he choked out. "You are not from any known sect!"
Mei Lan paused, looking at the man whose life she had intentionally spared. She needed enemies who could spread a message. "Tell those who seek the Azure Water Sect's shame that the Blade of Purity walks the earth. Tell them that all who hoard resources will eventually have to pay the debt."
With that, she leaped onto the cliff face, using her pure Qi to grip the stone, and ascended rapidly, disappearing into the peaks.
She knew that Lin Tian, the infant master, was safely cultivating in the Imperial Capital. Her duty to him was fulfilled for now, but her Sword Soul demanded more. The chaos she created would draw powerful pursuers, and she would use every clash as an opportunity to sharpen her skill and steal higher-grade resources. Her path was set: ruthless, solitary, and defined by the purity of her sword intent.