Such cultivation speed—only Bai Zhu of the Bai family could compare. And Bai Zhu had already set one foot into the gates of immortality.
That meant, barring catastrophe, Gao Yang's future would at least reach her current level—a level hailed as the Bai family's greatest genius in a century.
The revelation made the First Senior Brother's eyes narrow in wariness. He couldn't fathom what kind of power stood behind Gao Yang, one willing to send such a prodigy to this desolate sect. It confirmed the rumors: Gao Yang hadn't come merely to train—he had come for the same treasure said to lead to immortality.
"I'll check for myself," said Twelve suddenly.
Before anyone could stop her, she stepped forward and placed her palm over Gao Yang's Dantian.
The room tensed. The Dantian was a cultivator's life gate—touching it without permission was unthinkable. In another man's case, it might have drawn blood.
But Gao Yang didn't move. He offered no resistance.
Twelve's brow furrowed as she felt it—inside his core, a small pool of liquid energy, faint but real. "He's truly entered the Sea of Qi Stage," she said at last. "But his foundation is unstable. He advanced too quickly. He'll need time to settle the energy."
Gao Yang clasped his hands respectfully. "Thank you for your concern, Sister."
The Fifth Senior Sister hesitated, then reached into her sleeve and produced a small, glowing pill. "I was saving this for when I reach Foundation Building, but who knows when that will be? Keeping it is a waste. Take it—it'll help stabilize your realm."
Gao Yang shook his head. "Sister, it's too valuable—"
She smiled gently. "Don't worry. I can always make another. Just remember to cooperate with me next time."
He understood at once—her price would be his blood. Gao Yang accepted the pill with a bow. "Thank you, Sister."
Yuan Qing's expression darkened. The way the Fifth Sister spoke to Gao Yang—warm, attentive—twisted something sharp inside him. He had seen her true form before and, in his own way, loved her. Half a month ago, when she had regained her youthful appearance, he had feared for her, fetched her rare herbs, guarded her door.
She had accepted them all without protest.
And now, before his eyes, she was smiling at Gao Yang with a softness she'd never shown him.
Jealousy burned his heart to cinders.
"Since our Thirteenth Brother has entered the Sea of Qi Stage," Yuan Qing said with an icy calm, "and I've yet to prepare a gift, perhaps I'll offer instruction instead. Shall we spar?"
The Fifth Sister's face paled. She knew that tone. "Second Brother, no. You're already in the Fasting Stage, nearly ready to form your Golden Core. He just reached the Sea of Qi Stage. You'll kill him."
Yuan Qing smiled faintly. "I said 'instruction,' didn't I? I'll hold back."
The First Senior Brother frowned but stayed silent. He, too, wanted to see what Gao Yang was truly capable of.
Twelve stepped between them, her great blade stabbing into the floor. "You're serious? Picking on someone barely past Foundation Building? If you're so eager to fight, come at me instead."
Yuan Qing's smirk deepened, cruel and mocking. "So he needs his protector to speak for him? The path to immortality isn't for the timid. Without an invincible heart, you're nothing."
Gao Yang rose, his tone even. "It seems Second Brother's quite confident. Since you're so kind to offer guidance, I'll gladly learn."
The Fifth Sister's alarm flared. "You haven't even learned martial arts yet! He's trained for years—you can't win!"
Her concern only deepened Yuan Qing's bitterness. His patience snapped. "Enough!" he barked, stomping the ground.
His broken sword leapt from its scabbard, flashing like lightning toward Gao Yang's Dantian.
A killing strike—the Broken Sword Technique: Flowing Heart.
Gasps echoed around the room. This wasn't a lesson—it was murder. Yuan Qing intended to cripple him before the Mistress returned.
The First Senior Brother shouted, "Stop!" But he didn't move to intervene. If Gao Yang were destroyed, it would simplify everything.
Twelve's eyes blazed with fury. She swung her massive blade up, intercepting the thrust even as Gao Yang's Seven Fiends awakened.
He'd known Yuan Qing was waiting for this moment.
Pain flared through his body as his meridians erupted with demonic energy. The surge of qi made him blur into motion, a streak of shadow lunging straight for his attacker.
Clang!
The broken sword met Twelve's great blade. The impact rang like thunder. She staggered backward, face pale, arms trembling as blood dripped from her palms. Her weapon clattered to the ground.
But Gao Yang was already upon Yuan Qing.
"So fast!" Yuan Qing's eyes widened. Too fast.
Power rippled from his core, spreading in waves. A shimmering barrier of pure energy enveloped him—a protective armor only those nearing Golden Core could summon.
The First Senior Brother's pupils contracted. "That's… Core Armor? He's that close?" Then, shaking his head, he corrected himself. "No. He hasn't formed the Core yet, but his Sea of Qi must already be fully solidified."
Yuan Qing had never excelled at alchemy, but his combat techniques were ruthless, direct, and overwhelming. With his armor, he could fight even Core-level cultivators.
Gao Yang's clawed strike met the invisible wall and dispersed harmlessly.
Yuan Qing sneered. "Impressive speed, I'll give you that. But it ends here."
He slashed. Broken Sword Technique: Gale.
The air screamed as the blade descended. Victory already glimmered in his eyes.
But Gao Yang's hand flashed through a seal. "Seven Fiends Night Prowl!"
Veins burst beneath his skin as seven crimson phantoms surged from his arm, colliding with Yuan Qing's barrier.
Hisssss—
The sound of corrosion filled the hall. Cracks spread across the transparent armor before it melted away entirely.
Yuan Qing's face twisted in horror. He tried to withdraw, but breaking a technique mid-channel cost him dearly. His body convulsed, blood spilling from his lips.
Gao Yang thrust out his hand. A single crimson wraith spiraled back to him, sinking into his palm. He traced a sigil in blood, merging it with Yuan Qing's spilled essence.
"Seven Wounds."
The mark pulsed.
Yuan Qing screamed—a sound torn from the depths of agony. His body contorted, veins bursting open as streams of blood gushed from his skin. Within seconds, he was drenched head to toe, a man turned into a living scarlet effigy.