After being struck by her elder brother Lin Xuan, the seventh sister, Tang Xiaoran, stormed off in anger. Her small frame trembled as she walked, every step causing her bruised shoulder to throb. Tears stung her eyes, but pride kept her from crying. Eventually, she arrived at the serene courtyard of their master, Lan Yuerong.
"Master!" Tang Xiaoran called out, her voice laced with grievance.
Lan Yuerong, seated peacefully in the garden sipping tea, turned her head. Her expression softened in surprise. "Xiaoran? What's wrong, child?"
Tang Xiaoran walked forward and dramatically pulled down her sleeve to reveal the red mark. "Look! Big Brother hit me! He actually hit me! You have to punish him!"
Lan Yuerong's teacup paused mid-air, her expression unreadable. For a moment, she simply stared at the mark, and then… her lips twitched slightly, struggling to suppress a chuckle.
Lin Xuan? The same boy who treated his sisters like fragile treasures? Who never raised his voice at them? He struck Tang Xiaoran?
Still, she composed herself and said calmly, "Are you sure you're not exaggerating?"
"I'm not!" Xiaoran insisted, puffing her cheeks. "He really hit me!"
Lan Yuerong's gaze sharpened slightly. "Did you perhaps barge into his room while he was cultivating?"
"I—I knocked first…" she mumbled.
Lan Yuerong sighed softly. "You broke his door, interrupted his cultivation, and you're the one who stormed in. You may be his sister, but he raised you like a parent for five years. He has every right to discipline you when you're wrong."
Tang Xiaoran's eyes widened. "You're… not going to punish him?"
"No," Lan Yuerong said flatly. "He did nothing wrong."
Crushed and stunned, Tang Xiaoran huffed and stormed off again—this time toward the Sect Leader's residence. Yet even there, she was met with the same result.
"Lin Xuan is Elder Lan's personal disciple and has never broken sect rules," the Sect Leader said plainly. "He will not be punished."
Tang Xiaoran returned to her quarters with a scowl. She threw herself on the bed, rubbing her sore shoulder. "This bastard dared to hit me?! Just wait! One day, he'll come begging me for forgiveness—and I'll make him kneel the entire day!"
Meanwhile, Lin Xuan sat cross-legged in his quiet room, deep in thought.
"Lan'er should be returning soon with the spiritual stones. Until then, I need to prepare myself."
He glanced at the small storage pouch beside him. The original Lin Xuan had barely learned anything useful—just a basic palm strike. Pathetic. That needed to change.
"The Skill Pavilion it is."
The next morning, Lin Xuan walked through the sect grounds. Whispers followed him like shadows.
"Isn't that Lin Xuan?"
"I heard he slapped his seventh sister yesterday…"
"No way! He treats those girls like goddesses!"
Ignoring the murmurs, Lin Xuan entered the Skill Pavilion. The air inside was quiet and reverent, filled with the faint scent of old scrolls and talismans. On the first floor, he flipped through several basic techniques—until one caught his eye:
Verdant Flow Palm.
A graceful, flowing palm technique that channeled spiritual energy into smooth, wave-like strikes. It was not aggressive like other martial arts but instead focused on redirection, precision, and exploiting an enemy's overextension. At higher levels, it could disrupt internal energy flow and even counter stronger opponents.
Lin Xuan's lips curved into a satisfied smile. "This will do."
He took the scroll and left without a word. No one dared stop him. As Elder Lan's direct disciple and a member of the Lin family, his authority was untouchable.
Back in his room, Lin Xuan dove into practice. Day and night, he studied every movement—how to step, how to breathe, how to harness momentum. Unlike the original Lin Xuan who lacked ambition, this Lin Xuan trained with deadly focus.
His sleeves danced in the wind as his palms flowed like water, striking wooden posts and slicing through the air with invisible force.
By the seventh day, the once-foreign technique felt like second nature. Even the walls around him bore faint palm-shaped imprints.
In meditation, Lin Xuan exhaled slowly. "The basics are mastered. At full strength… I can likely disrupt even a Qi Refining Level 7 cultivator."
His eyes shifted to the scroll. "What if I gifted this to someone…?"
Ding!
If Host gives the skill to another, you will receive an enhanced version rather than duplicates.
His eyebrows lifted in intrigue.
"So… it's quality over quantity."
He smiled faintly. "Good. That makes things easier."
With one more glance outside, he leaned back, hands behind his head.
"Lan'er should return today. Once I get those stones, the real plan begins…"
His thoughts drifted forward.
The protagonist will arrive in two months.
By then, Lin Xuan would no longer be the villain they expected—
He would be the storm that changes everything.