The stranger set his chopsticks down carefully and straightened his back, his posture shifting from casual to deliberate, like someone stepping into a negotiation rather than a plea. The chaos of the cafeteria seemed to recede slightly around him, not because it quieted, but because his composure demanded attention.
"My name is Mo Liangchen," he said evenly. "I don't have many resources. In fact, compared to most disciples here, I have almost none."
He didn't rush past the admission. He let it sit between us, bare and unadorned, as if daring anyone to scoff at it.
"But what I lack in resources," he continued calmly, "I make up for in access. My family deals in trade across several sects, and through those dealings, information moves faster than goods ever do. Inside this sect as well, I have channels—nothing flashy, but reliable enough that news reaches me earlier than it reaches most elders."
Information.
My attention sharpened.
Mo Liangchen continued, voice steady and sincere:
"You can rely on my intelligence network. If you help me reach Qi Condensation Stage 9, I'll provide you every piece of information I receive in the future. No charge."
Ye Qingfeng didn't look impressed. He didn't even bother pretending to weigh the offer, his attention already returning to his meal as if the conversation had drifted somewhere unimportant. Beside him, Qingyue continued eating with quiet focus, her posture relaxed and her expression unchanged. If her brother accepted, that was fine. If he didn't, that was fine too. Her priorities were simple, peaceful, and entirely her own.
But me?
My thoughts stalled for a long moment.
Information was not strength in the traditional sense, but I knew better than most how lethal it could be. Timelines, encounters, hidden opportunities, people who were destined to matter later—knowing where and when they appeared was often more valuable than brute force. Especially for someone like me, whose survival depended on staying one step ahead of the script.
Information could help me locate future female leads before the protagonist ever crossed paths with them.
That alone made the offer dangerous.
And tempting.
I leaned forward slightly, resting my forearms on the edge of the table, my tone casual enough to sound uninterested.
"Do you have any… interesting information?" I asked calmly. "If it's valuable, we can consider letting you join temporarily."
I didn't frame it as an invitation. I framed it as a test.
Ye Qingfeng didn't object. He didn't comment either. He simply continued eating, the lack of reaction speaking louder than agreement ever could. At this point, that silence was as close to approval as I was going to get.
Mo Liangchen noticed the shift immediately.
His eyes sharpened just a fraction, not with excitement, but with focus. He didn't rush to speak. Instead, he waited, letting the moment stretch, letting the weight of anticipation settle properly before delivering anything of substance.
Only when the noise of the cafeteria swelled again around us did he finally open his mouth.
"After this competition," he said, "the sect will allow all Qi Condensation cultivators from the Inner Sect, as well as personal disciples of Outer Sect elders, to enter the sect's Sacred Land."
The word alone drew attention.
"It's a restricted area," he explained calmly. "The spiritual energy there is at least five times denser than outside. I don't know the exact reason yet—only that something beneath the land amplifies it unnaturally. Cultivating there for a short time is equivalent to years outside."
He paused, letting the implication sink in.
"If you can become a personal disciple of an Outer Sect elder, you'll qualify automatically," Mo Liangchen said, then looked directly at me. "Brother Xuanyan, if you display your alchemy talent properly, becoming a disciple shouldn't be difficult."
His gaze shifted briefly to Ye Qingfeng and Qingyue.
"What do you think?"
Then, before anyone could respond, he added evenly, as if sweetening the deal without desperation, "You don't even need to let me join your group. Just provide me with a few pills, and I'll supply information. Everything I know."
Xuanyan leaned back slightly, releasing a slow breath as his thoughts churned.
Is this Heaven retaliating? he wondered.
In the original novel, Ye Qingfeng never received this opportunity. Not now. Not here. The Sacred Land wasn't part of his early path at all. Yet now, fate was dangling it in front of him instead.
If Ye Qingfengs entered that place, with his advanced cultivation methods, his progress would far exceed the original timeline. He would grow faster than canon. Faster than expected.
For a brief moment, unease flickered through him.
Then he shook his head inwardly.
No… this isn't bad.
If anything, it was an opening.
If he played this right, the Sacred Land wouldn't just be a cultivation boost. It would be a hunting ground. A place where high-luck individuals gathered, where fate threads overlapped densely, where opportunities clustered unnaturally.
Maybe I'll find several people with high providence, Xuanyan thought calmly. If I can bind or merge their fate threads with mine… I'll grow even faster.
His lips curved faintly.
And the protagonist?
Ye Qingfeng would be stuck inside the Sacred Land, isolated, progressing along a path due to his personality he couldn't easily deviate from. Meanwhile, Xuanyan could reshape events , intercept encounters, and claim opportunities that were never meant to be his.
For the first time since transmigrating, Xuanyan felt it clearly.
He won't get any opportunity to meet female lead unconditionally.
As long as I reached those women first, merged their fate threads, and built bonds before the protagonist ever saw them…
My foundation—and my destiny—would shift.
Ye Qingfeng fell silent, his gaze unfocused as his thoughts turned inward.
So what path should I choose? he wondered.
Sword cultivation was powerful, but too common. Martial arts followed a similar route—direct, brutal, predictable. Calligraphy and music carried elegance and depth, yet countless disciples had already walked those roads. None of them felt… decisive. None of them felt like something uniquely his.
Alchemy was out of the question now. Brother Xuanyan had already claimed that path, and Ye Qingfeng had no intention of stepping on his ally's ground.
Master, he thought quietly, what path should I take?
A few moments passed before a faint, slightly strained voice echoed within his consciousness, bound by restrictions far heavier than ordinary seals.
I cannot guide you openly, the voice said weakly. However, I can provide you with several restriction formulas. They are common in my homeland and basic in nature, but refined nonetheless. With even a few of them, you could easily exchange your way into becoming a personal disciple.
Ye Qingfeng's breath steadied.
Restrictions.
It wasn't the most glamorous path, but it was rare, technical, and dangerously versatile. More importantly, it was different.
Before he could speak, Xuanyan finally broke the silence.
"Brother Qingfeng," he said calmly, folding his hands on the table, "I think we should accept his deal. Mo Liangchen can offer more than a single opportunity. In this sect, information is power."
Ye Qingfeng studied Mo Liangchen for a long moment, his eyes sharp and unblinking.
"…Can you prove anything you've said?" he asked.
Mo Liangchen blinked, clearly caught off guard. His composure cracked for the first time, and he swallowed hard.
Proving information in a world that hoarded secrets was nearly impossible—especially for someone with weak talent and no powerful backing. His voice lowered, losing its earlier confidence.
"I can't show you evidence," he admitted. "Not yet. But I swear everything I said is true. If I lie, I'll—"
"There's no need," Xuanyan interrupted quietly.
Both of them turned toward him.
"I believe him," Xuanyan said evenly.
There was no dramatic justification. No elaborate reasoning. Just instinct—and the faint echo of memory from the novel's plotline, where information brokers were always dismissed as irrelevant until their absence proved fatal.
And more importantly…
He needed him.
With that, the matter was settled.
They finished their meals in relative peace, the earlier tension dissolving into the familiar chaos of the cafeteria. Voices rose and fell around them, bowls emptied, and the moment passed naturally, as if no decisions of consequence had just been made.
When they finally stood to leave and went their separate ways, Ye Qingfeng slowed slightly and lowered his voice.
"Brother Xuanyan," he said, "after reaching Rank Four, we're required to complete at least one mission. Are you interested in doing it together? Once the upcoming events begin, we'll be busy for an entire month. We might not get another chance."
Xuanyan considered it briefly, then nodded.
"I can't earn points right now anyway," he replied honestly. "And Sister Lingling is busy preparing for her breakthrough. There's no reason to waste this opportunity."
"Good," Ye Qingfeng said, a faint grin appearing on his face. "Then let's choose a mission together."
Qingyue nodded quietly beside him, and the group finally parted ways.
As Xuanyan and Ye Qingfeng walked toward the Mission Hall, their steps felt lighter than before.