Chapter 30 --- Closure
The moment Hao Tian took that step forward, something changed.
It wasn't his aura.
He wasn't releasing pressure, nor was he circulating Qi.
But the air around him seemed to grow heavier all the same.
Zhao Kun's smile finally faded.
He frowned, staring at Hao Tian more carefully, as though only now realizing that something about the young man in front of him felt… different.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Zhao Kun said, his voice rough, though a trace of irritation crept into it. "You think you're someone now?"
Hao Tian did not answer immediately.
He looked at Zhao Kun the same way one might look at a stone on the roadside.
Not with disdain.
Not with anger.
Just with indifference.
"I was thinking," Hao Tian said slowly, "that you probably don't even remember how many people you've stepped on."
Zhao Kun sneered. "And you're one of them. So what?"
"I am," Hao Tian nodded. "But today, I'm also the one you're standing in front of."
The two men beside Zhao Kun laughed.
One of them shook his head. "This kid's got a death wish. Zhao Kun, looks like he doesn't know his place."
Zhao Kun's eyes narrowed. "Kneel and apologize," he said coldly. "Maybe I'll only break one of your legs."
The surrounding street had already started to quiet down.
People were not stupid.
They could sense when trouble was about to happen.
Some stepped back. Some stopped to watch. A few stall owners nervously pulled their goods closer.
Hao Tian did not move.
He simply looked at Zhao Kun.
Then he said, "You should leave."
For a second, Zhao Kun thought he had misheard.
Then his face twisted in anger.
"Leave?" he laughed harshly. "You think you're qualified to tell me to leave?"
He stepped forward, his body releasing the obvious strength of an Eighth Stage Body Refiner. His muscles tensed, veins bulging slightly under his skin.
In the past, this alone would have been enough to make Hao Tian's heart pound in fear.
But now?
Hao Tian felt nothing.
Zhao Kun reached out and grabbed toward Hao Tian's collar.
In that instant—
Hao Tian moved.
He did not draw his sword.
He did not even fully turn his body.
He simply raised his hand and caught Zhao Kun's wrist.
The sound was not loud.
Just a dull, heavy thud.
But the moment their arms met, Zhao Kun's expression changed violently.
His eyes widened.
Because he felt it.
Not resistance.
Not struggle.
But something like grabbing onto a steel pillar.
"W—What…?" Zhao Kun instinctively tried to pull his hand back.
He couldn't.
Hao Tian's fingers closed.
Just slightly.
Crack.
A crisp, horrifying sound rang out.
"AAARGH!"
Zhao Kun screamed as his wrist bent at an impossible angle, bones snapping under the pressure.
His knees buckled on the spot.
Hao Tian let go.
Zhao Kun collapsed to the ground, clutching his broken arm, his face twisted in agony and disbelief.
The street went completely silent.
The two men beside him froze.
They stared at Hao Tian as if they were looking at a monster.
"You—You crippled him?!" one of them shouted.
Hao Tian looked at them.
"Do you want to try too?"
They swallowed.
Then one of them drew a short blade and rushed forward, shouting to give himself courage.
Hao Tian stepped forward calmly.
He lifted his hand.
And struck once.
Not a complicated move.
Not a fancy technique.
Just a straight punch.
The man was sent flying backward like a broken sack, crashing into a stall and collapsing in a heap, not moving again.
The last man turned pale.
He didn't even dare to attack.
He turned and ran.
Hao Tian did not chase him.
He walked toward Zhao Kun instead.
Zhao Kun was still on the ground, crawling backward with his good arm, his eyes full of terror.
"Y-You… You can't touch me…" he stammered. "I… I'm backed by the Iron Wolf Gang… If you touch me, you'll—"
Hao Tian stepped on his chest.
Not hard enough to kill him.
Just hard enough that Zhao Kun couldn't breathe.
He looked down at him.
"Back then," Hao Tian said quietly, "you broke my ribs for fun."
He pressed his foot slightly harder.
"Back then, you made me kneel in the mud."
Slightly harder.
"Back then, you took my food, my money, and still said it wasn't enough."
Zhao Kun's face turned purple.
"I never went looking for you," Hao Tian said. "Because you were never important enough."
He leaned down slightly.
"But since you walked in front of me today…"
He lifted his foot.
Then brought it down.
Crack.
A scream more terrible than before tore out of Zhao Kun's throat.
His leg twisted unnaturally.
Hao Tian stepped back.
People were staring.
Some in shock.
Some in fear.
Some in awe.
He looked at Zhao Kun one last time.
"Live," he said. "And remember."
Then he turned around and walked away.
Behind him, the street slowly erupted into hushed whispers.
"Who was that…?"
"That strength… at least Ninth Stage… no, higher…"
"Did you see Zhao Kun's arm…?"
Hao Tian did not look back.
As he walked, he felt something loosen in his chest.
Like a knot that had been tied for years had finally been undone.
This was not revenge.
This was closure.
And as he walked toward the deeper part of the market, toward the future—
He knew.
His past, as a crawling, struggling nobody…
Was finally, completely over.
......
Hao Tian did not linger where he was.
After the brief confrontation earlier, he simply adjusted his robe, steadied his breathing, and continued walking as though nothing of importance had happened. The market swallowed him again almost immediately. Voices overlapped, footsteps echoed on stone, and the smell of food, metal, medicine, and dust mixed into a familiar, chaotic blend.
The outer stretch of the market was always like this—noisy, crowded, and filled with people who were either browsing without purpose or trying to sell something with exaggerated enthusiasm. But Hao Tian did not slow down. He moved with clear intent, passing through the outer stalls and into the deeper, more orderly parts of the district.
Here, the shops were more permanent. Real buildings replaced cloth awnings. Wooden signs hung neatly above doors. The people walking around were fewer, but their steps were steadier, their eyes sharper. This was where cultivators and serious hunters came when they needed something specific.
Before long, a familiar sign came into view.
Clear Script Hall.
The characters were simple, carved into a dark wooden plaque that had clearly been there for many years. The building itself was two stories tall, built from grey stone and dark wood, with wide windows and a calm, almost scholarly atmosphere that stood in stark contrast to the noisy market outside.
Hao Tian paused in front of it for a moment.
He had been here before. It was where he had bought his body refining technique in the first place. Back then, he had been little more than a desperate nobody, scraping together silver and hoping to find anything that could change his fate.
Now, he was different.
Not in appearance, perhaps—his clothes were still simple, his hair still tied back without ornament—but the weight in his steps, the calm in his eyes, and the quiet strength coiled in his body were no longer the same.
He pushed the door open and stepped inside.
The noise of the market vanished almost instantly, replaced by a hushed, orderly silence. Rows of shelves filled the hall, each packed with jade slips, bamboo scrolls, and thin booklets. The air smelled faintly of ink, paper, and old wood.
A few people were already inside, browsing quietly. Some looked like young cultivators. Others were clearly ordinary people searching for basic manuals or knowledge related to herbs, beasts, or geography.
Behind a long wooden counter sat the same old librarian.
He was a thin, elderly man with greying hair tied into a loose knot, wearing simple robes. His cultivation was not high—Hao Tian could tell that at a glance—but his eyes were sharp and calm, carrying the steady patience of someone who had spent decades surrounded by knowledge.
The old man glanced up when Hao Tian entered, his gaze lingering for a fraction of a second longer than it would have on an ordinary customer.
Then he smiled faintly.
"You've come again."
Hao Tian nodded. "I have."
He walked over and clasped his hands lightly in greeting. "I want to look at cultivation techniques and battle techniques."
The old man raised an eyebrow slightly. "Your previous technique… have you already reached its limit?"
"Yes," Hao Tian replied honestly. "It only covers the Body Refining realm. I've already reached the end of what it can offer."
The old man studied him for a moment more carefully now.
"Your aura is very steady," he said slowly. "Heavy. Condensed. You're at the very peak of Body Refining, aren't you?"
Hao Tian did not deny it. "Yes."
The old man's eyes showed a trace of surprise, quickly hidden.
"Not bad. Very not bad." He nodded. "But you should understand something. Techniques for Qi Refining are very different from Body Refining techniques. They're more complex, more dangerous, and far more dependent on compatibility."
"That's why I came to ask," Hao Tian said. "How should I choose?"
The old man gestured for him to follow and led him out from behind the counter, walking slowly along one of the long shelves.
"In Body Refining, techniques focus on tempering the flesh, the bones, the blood, and the organs. It's straightforward. Hard. Painful. But straightforward." He tapped one of the shelves lightly. "In Qi Refining, you're no longer just strengthening the body. You're dealing with Qi itself. How you draw it in. How you circulate it. How you store it. How you refine it."
He stopped and turned to look at Hao Tian.
"The most important factors are three. First, compatibility with your body. Second, stability. Third, potential."
"Compatibility decides how smoothly you can cultivate. Stability decides whether you'll cripple yourself halfway through. Potential decides how far that technique can take you."
He smiled faintly.
"Most people can only choose two of the three."
Hao Tian listened carefully, committing every word to memory.
"And battle techniques?" he asked.
"That depends even more on your path," the old man said. "Some people favor speed. Some favor strength. Some favor control. Some rely on weapons, others on bare hands. Without knowing your future direction, choosing a battle technique too early can actually limit you."
He looked at Hao Tian meaningfully.
"You're about to step into Qi Refining. My advice? Don't rush to buy. First, stabilize your realm. Learn what kind of cultivator you truly are. Then come back."
Hao Tian considered this for a moment, then nodded slowly.
"That makes sense."
The old man smiled. "You're more patient than most."
Hao Tian did not reply. He simply bowed slightly in thanks.
He did not browse for long after that. Instead, he walked slowly through a few aisles, scanning the names and descriptions of the techniques, more to familiarize himself with what existed than to actually choose something. The variety was far greater than in the Body Refining section—techniques that focused on fire, water, wind, earth, pure Qi circulation, body-qi integration, weapon-based paths, and many stranger, more specialized methods.
It only reinforced what the old man had said.
Choosing wrongly could shape his entire future.
In the end, he left without buying anything.
When he stepped back out into the street, the noise and heat of the market rushed back to greet him. He exhaled slowly and continued walking deeper in, heading toward the inner districts.
He passed several familiar intersections, then gradually found himself nearing the central square.
This was where the announcement boards were.
Several large wooden boards stood in a row, each one covered in notices—some about mercenary work, some about beast hunts, some about missing persons, some about business opportunities. And, occasionally, notices about sects.
There was a small crowd gathered today.
Hao Tian slowed slightly and let himself drift closer, blending into the edge of the group.
"…I heard they're recruiting again this year."
"Of course they are. They do every few years."
"But this time it's bigger. They're expanding."
"Expanding? That sect? Isn't it just a low-level sect in Yanglu Continent?"
"Low-level or not, it's still a sect. For people like us, that's already stepping into the sky."
Hao Tian listened quietly.
Someone snorted. "You make it sound easy. Even their outer disciple exam weeds out nine out of ten people."
"Still better than staying a rogue cultivator forever."
"I heard they focus on fire-attributed techniques. Alchemy and weapon refinement too."
"Yeah. Makes sense, given where we are."
"What was their name again?"
"Blazing Sun Valley, I think. Or maybe it was Burning River Sect?
"No, no. Burning River Sect is another one. This one's called… Crimson Furnace Sect. That's it."
Hao Tian's eyes sharpened slightly.
A small sect.
Fire-attributed.
Strong in alchemy and weapon refinement.
It fit the region.
He stayed long enough to hear more scattered bits of information. The exam would be held in a few weeks. They would accept anyone below a certain age and above a certain cultivation level. Even Qi Refining cultivators would have to start as outer disciples.
Nothing surprising.
But it was enough.
When the crowd began to disperse, Hao Tian turned away and headed back toward his home.
The path back was quieter. The deeper residential areas were far calmer than the market. The noise faded, replaced by the sound of wind, distant voices, and the occasional bark of a dog.
He passed through the gates of the gated area and walked along the familiar, slightly cracked stone paths.
His house soon came into view.
Small. Old. A little crooked.
He opened the door, stepped inside, and closed it behind him.
The interior was simple and clean. A bed, a table, a few shelves, and not much else. Sunlight filtered in through the window, casting long shadows on the floor.
Hao Tian sat down and closed his eyes.
He did not cultivate immediately.
Instead, he reviewed everything in his mind.
His current realm: peak Low Ninth Stage of Body Refining.
His goal: step into Qi Refining, then eventually return and join the sect exam.
What he lacked: a suitable cultivation technique, a battle technique, and more resources.
What he could do now: prepare.
He took out some paper and began to write.
Not cultivation notes.
Plans.
He wrote down what he knew about Qi Refining. About the need to fill the body with Qi, to saturate it, to break the barrier, to begin the long process of condensing Qi again and again. He wrote down what he knew about sects, about the exam timeline, about the resources he might need.
He wrote down what beasts were in the nearby forests. Which areas he had explored. Which areas were still unknown.
When he finally put the brush down, the sun was already leaning toward the west.
Only then did he sit on the bed and begin to cultivate.
This time, it was not to push forward.
It was to consolidate.
He circulated his Qi and blood slowly, carefully, letting his body grow accustomed to its current state, smoothing out any remaining instability. His breathing was calm. His mind was clear.
By the time he stopped, night had fallen.
He cooked a simple meal, ate, and lay down to rest.
But his mind was already looking ahead.
The next day, he woke early.
He packed his things.
Not for a short trip.
For a hunt.
He checked his supplies, his medicines, his water skins, and his rations. He checked his sword and made sure it was in good condition.
Then he sat down and stared at the map he had drawn for himself.
Two weeks.
He would not return for two weeks.
He would go deeper than before. Not recklessly, but carefully. He would hunt, gather, and prepare everything he could.
Because when he came back, he would step into Qi Refining.
And after that…
The sect.
He rolled up the map, tied his pack, and stood up.
The road ahead was long.
But for the first time, it felt clear.