Ten minutes later.
In a secluded, twisting alleyway far from the glittering dome of the Miteer Auction House, the heavy black robe was unceremoniously shoved into an empty spatial ring.
Xiao Yan stood leaning against the cool brick wall of the alley, wearing his normal, simple clothes. He dragged a hand down his face, wiping away the sweat that had accumulated under the stifling hood.
He felt exhausted. Not physically, but mentally. The political maneuvering, the suppression of his own ego, the bitter taste of defeat—it was heavier than swinging a heavy sword all day.
Flash.
A soft, silvery light pulsed from the ancient black ring on his right hand.
A translucent, ghostly figure drifted out, floating in the dim alleyway. Yao Chen, the venerable Medicine Venerate, stroked his long white beard, a distinct look of amusement dancing in his ancient eyes.
"Hmm, kid," Yao Chen chuckled, the sound echoing directly into Xiao Yan's mind. "Learn the lesson? Eh?"
Xiao Yan scowled at the brick wall opposite him. "Don't rub it in, Teacher."
"Oh, I think I will," Yao Chen floated closer, circling his disciple. "You let a girl's giggle and a boy's stoic face rattle your Dao heart. You tried to borrow a knife to kill your enemy, but you didn't check if the knife was sharp enough, or if your enemy was wearing armor. You shouldn't have done this for a little emotion."
Yao Chen stopped in front of Xiao Yan, his expression turning a fraction more serious.
"Look at the result. You lost face. You nearly alienated your best source of income. And worst of all... you didn't even scratch the boy. Now, to mend the bridge with that cunning fox Ya Fei, you need to make more Foundation Elixirs. That means more time over the cauldron, more sweat, and more money spent on herbs."
Xiao Yan sighed. It was a long, heavy sigh that seemed to carry the last remnants of his childish arrogance out of his body.
"Yes, Master," Xiao Yan admitted, his voice quiet but firm. "I accept that. It was my mistake. I was petty, and I was weak. I tried to use someone else's power because I felt I didn't have enough of my own."
He looked up, his dark eyes meeting the ghostly gaze of his teacher. The jealousy that had clouded his vision was gone, burned away by the harsh reality of the world. In its place was a sharp, unyielding determination.
"But I will not make that mistake again," Xiao Yan vowed, pushing himself off the brick wall. "I won't hide in the VIP room and hope a guard does my dirty work."
He looked toward the direction of the Xiao Clan estate.
"Before we leave this city for my training in the Magic Beast Mountain Range... I will confront him openly. No tricks. No auction house politics. Just him and me. On the arena stage."
Yao Chen watched the boy. He saw the fire reignite in his disciple's eyes—not the ugly, smoky fire of jealousy, but the pure, roaring flame of a cultivator seeking to test his limits.
The old master smiled warmly. "Good. He is growing up. The path to the top is paved with humiliating lessons."
"Hmm, okay," Yao Chen nodded approvingly, crossing his translucent arms. "A direct challenge is the honorable way. It will temper your spirit."
Then, Yao Chen's eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief.
"But... don't hit him too hard. After all, he is your clanmate. And more importantly, if you break the arms of his prized student, that madman Tie Shan might show up at our courtyard with that Tier 3 hammer of his. I am a spirit, I can't block physical trauma for you."
Xiao Yan couldn't help but snort, a small, genuine laugh escaping his lips. The image of the burly blacksmith chasing him around the Xiao compound was terrifyingly plausible.
But Yao Chen's smile quickly faded, replaced by a solemn, evaluating look. "Jokes aside, kid, you must fight him cautiously. Did you see his stance today? He managed to stand his ground under the aura of a Mid-level Dou Shi. To resist that with just a Dou Zhi Qi cultivation requires a monstrous physical foundation and an iron will. Do not underestimate him."
Xiao Yan's chin lifted, his competitive fire flaring as he shook his head. "Don't worry, Master. With my strength, I could resist that pressure too. He might have a good body, but I have superior techniques and your teachings on my side. I will surely defeat him."
He paused, offering his master a determined smile. "But I will keep your warning in mind, Master."
"Good," Yao Chen said, his figure slowly beginning to dissipate back into the black ring. "Now, enough dawdling. I am telling you again: focus on your training. You recently broke through to Dou Zhe, but your realm is still fresh. You need to push harder to fully stabilize your Dou Qi Cyclone before we leave the city. The mountains will not be as forgiving as an auction house appraiser."
"I know," Xiao Yan nodded, feeling the familiar, comforting weight of his master's guidance. "Let's go train."
The silver light faded completely as Yao Chen retreated into the ring.
Xiao Yan stepped out of the dark alleyway and back into the bustling streets of Wu Tan City. The sun was finally dipping below the horizon, casting long, dramatic shadows across the cobblestones.
He walked with a renewed sense of purpose. The petty grudges of the past week were behind him. Ahead lay the cauldron, the grueling physical training, and the distant, looming shadow of the Misty Cloud Sect.
And somewhere in the city, his stoic cousin was walking to his home.
When the time came for them to clash, it would not be a matter of petty jealousy, but a collision of two rising dragons. Who would stand taller?
Xiao Yan and his master walked away, chatting quietly as the stars began to appear. The future would tell them.