The market square lay bathed in the dying light of the sun. Stone tiles reflected shades of gold and blood-red, their surfaces scarred by countless footsteps. Stalls stood tightly packed, wooden frames creaking softly as torn canopies fluttered in the evening wind like wounded flags.
Dust hung thick in the air, glowing faintly as the sun sank lower. The smell of crushed herbs, metal, and incense mixed into something sharp and suffocating. Movement continued, yet the crowd no longer felt lively—people stood closer now, eyes drifting again and again toward the center of the square.
Whispers slid through the air like blades, low and cautious. Faces were half-lit, half-drowned in shadow, expressions tense, curious, afraid. Even seasoned cultivators unconsciously straightened, sensing the invisible weight pressing down on the space.
Long shadows stretched across the ground, intertwining as if the earth itself were tightening its grip. From surrounding buildings, silent figures watched from balconies and windows, unmoving, waiting.
As the sun dipped behind the rooftops, the sky burned orange and violet, and the market—once noisy and ordinary—fell into a strange stillness, like a battlefield moments before judgment was delivered.
The center of Tianjian Clan's market had fallen into a deathly silence.
Five figures knelt on the shattered stone floor, their hands bound behind their backs with spirit-forged chains. Torn robes clung to their bodies, stained with dust and blood. Heads lowered. Breathing uneven.
They were no longer young lords.
They were criminals.
The pill Wei Shun had brought was a special kind.It could permanently heal minor injuries, while more serious wounds would recover within two to three days after consumption. Though not rare among major clans, such pills were still precious in an open market.
Fang Lin opened the jade box and took out a pill.It was extremely small, round, and faintly green, with a subtle herbal fragrance drifting from its surface. He paused for a brief moment, studying it.
This is the first time I'm consuming a pill in this world, he thought calmly.
I don't sense any danger from it.
Without hesitation, he placed it into his mouth.
Moments later, he handed pills to Vren and then to Mu Chen as well. Both of them had suffered minor injuries earlier when the defensive shockwaves erupted.
As Fang Lin closed the jade box, he glanced at Wei Shun and said evenly,
"It seems you brought more pills than necessary."
Wei Shun lowered his head slightly and replied,
"In my hurry, I didn't pay much attention, Young Master Fang Lin. Besides… they can always be used later."
At that moment, the eyes of the bound youths subtly shifted.They stared at the pills in Fang Lin's hand—not with hope, but with a strange, hollow longing, as if those pills should have belonged to them from the start.
Fang Lin noticed nothing—or perhaps chose not to.
The golden token rested quietly in his hand, catching the last light of the setting sun, its presence alone enough to silence any thought of objection.
Fang Lin stepped forward and stood before them all.
The noise of the market slowly died, as if even the air itself was holding its breath.
He raised his hand.
The golden token caught the dying light of the sunset, its glow sharp and unmistakable. At that instant, every bound youth stiffened. Their breathing grew uneven.
Fang Lin's voice was calm—too calm.
"Look carefully," he said.
"I will not kill you."
A ripple passed through the crowd.
"I will not cripple you. I will not destroy your cultivation. I will even allow you to return safely to your families."
He paused, letting each word sink deep into their minds.
Then, with his other hand, he lifted the jade box and opened it slightly. Inside, the faint green pills were clearly visible.
"And I will give each of you a pill."
The bound youths' pupils shrank.
Healing pills.
Mercy.
From the very person they had tried to destroy.
Fang Lin's lips curved into a shallow, emotionless smile.
"But there is a condition."
His gaze slowly swept across their faces—fear, anger, shame, disbelief—until it settled firmly on each of them, one by one.
"You will kneel."
His voice did not rise, yet it struck harder than a shout.
"You will apologize to me three times."
He raised three fingers.
"And you will say these words clearly, so everyone can hear them."
''Forgive me. From today onward, I will never oppose you again.
I will never raise my voice against you.
And I will treat you with respect—always.''
The silence that followed was suffocating.
This was worse than death.
Worse than broken bones.
To beg.
To submit.
To accept mercy from the one they once mocked, bullied, and tried to erase.
Fang Lin lowered his hand, the token still visible, still shining.
"Choose carefully," he said quietly.
"This is the only kindness you will ever receive from me."
Lin Yichen was the first to lower his head.
His mind raced.
Will he really let us go…?
He doesn't look like he's lying.
Unlike the others, Lin Yichen had never truly bullied Fang Lin. He had merely stood behind them—silent, obedient—because he had no choice.
I was nothing more than a servant once, he thought bitterly.
Liang Yun was our young master. My brother and I followed him like shadows since childhood. Not because we wanted to—but because we had to.
Then another thought surfaced.
But after the Awakening Ceremony… I received B-grade aptitude.
His breathing grew heavier.
A future… I finally have a future.
If he survived this, if he returned alive, he could rise. Slowly. Honestly.
What do I lose by apologizing?
I've already lived my whole life bowing my head.
Lin Yichen clenched his fists—then released them.
He moved.
In front of everyone, under countless gazes filled with shock and disbelief, Lin Yichen leaned forward and placed both palms flat on the ground.
The sound echoed softly.
Kneeling.
The market stirred.
He swallowed hard, humiliation burning his chest, and spoke clearly:
"Forgive me."
Once.
"Forgive me."
Twice.
"Forgive me."
Thrice.
His forehead hovered just above the stone ground.
"I swear that from today onward, I will never oppose you again.
I will never disrespect you.
And I will treat you with the respect you deserve."
When he finished, his body felt strangely light—yet unbearably heavy at the same time.
Silence fell.
All eyes slowly shifted.
Toward the remaining bound youths.
When Fang Lin saw who had knelt first, a faint trace of surprise finally crossed his eyes.
It vanished almost instantly.
"So it was you," Fang Lin said slowly, his voice calm yet sharp enough to cut.
"You chose the right option at the most critical moment."
A pause.
"Interesting."
His gaze swept over Lin Yichen with measured indifference.
"You weren't seriously injured anyway," Fang Lin continued.
"And more importantly—you know when to act… and when not to."
Each word landed like a verdict.
Fang Lin stepped forward.
Without warning, he raised his hand and pressed a pill directly to Lin Yichen's lips.
"Take it."
The pill slid into his mouth before Lin Yichen could even react.
"You deserve this," Fang Lin said quietly.
"And people like you…"
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"…are useful."
Lin Yichen's body trembled—not from pain, but from something far deeper.
Fear.
Relief.
And the terrifying realization that, at this moment, his future had just been decided by one man's whim.
The crowd inhaled sharply.
Some felt envy.
Some felt dread.
Lin Qingyu's face was slightly swollen, the bruises still fresh.
When he saw his brother kneel without hesitation, his body stiffened.
"Big… brother Yichen…"
The words were barely a whisper—so soft that no one else heard them.
But Lin Yichen did.
He turned his head just enough for Qingyu to see his eyes.
"Have you still not understood?" Yichen said in a low, firm voice.
"Just because you received B-grade aptitude doesn't mean you've suddenly become some family's young master."
His tone was cold—practical.
"Do exactly as I say."
Yichen leaned slightly closer.
"We've lived like servants our entire lives anyway. If bowing our heads now lets you recover… what difference does it make?"
His eyes hardened.
"Our future will be better. That's all that matters."
Lin Qingyu clenched his teeth, his jaw trembling as humiliation burned through him.
Slowly, painfully, he lowered himself.
"I… I'm sorry."
But deep inside, his thoughts screamed:
> "Fang Lin… just leave this place alive once.
After that—see what happens."
Next came Liang Yun.
He froze in place.
His fists clenched. His pride screamed at him to resist.
But Lin Qingyu immediately whispered, his voice shaking:
"Young Lord… just do it for now. We'll repay this later. I swear."
Lin Yichen added calmly, but with unmistakable pressure:
"Young Lord, this is the right choice. Our family already lacks cultivators.
If something happens to you here, the consequences for the Lin family will be disastrous."
Liang Yun's breathing grew heavy.
Seconds passed.
Then—
He knelt.
"I… apologize."
Yet in his heart, hatred churned violently.
> "My family is weak right now—that's the only reason I'm enduring this.
Otherwise, Fang Lin… I would never let you live."
Then it was Yan Ruochen's turn.
Unlike the others, he didn't hesitate at all.
His courage had already shattered.
His pants were damp. His face was deathly pale. His body trembled as if he might collapse at any moment.
He lowered his head immediately.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"
His voice cracked, fear swallowing every trace of dignity.
Finally—
All eyes turned to the last person.
Fang Qing.
He stood there like stone.
His expression was dark, unmoving, his fists clenched so tightly that blood seeped from his palms.
He neither knelt…
Nor spoke.
The silence around him grew heavy.
Everyone knew—
This was the moment that truly mattered.
Fang Lin had already given pills to everyone who had bowed before him.
One by one.
Only one person remained untouched.
When Fang Lin finally noticed it, his gaze sharpened.
That boy wasn't just anyone.
He was still kneeling there—silent, stiff—
his brother.
Fang Lin walked over and slowly crouched down in front of him.
The chains clinked softly as Fang Lin's fingers closed around them.
He looked straight into Fang Qing's eyes.
"Big brother…" Fang Lin said calmly, almost softly.
"Why didn't you do it?"
He tightened his grip on the chains just enough to make Fang Qing flinch.
"Don't you want to be free from these?"
Fang Lin leaned closer.
"Do you really think your father will come to save you once he finds out what you tried to do?"
His voice dropped to a whisper, sharp and merciless, brushing against Fang Qing's ear.
"Besides… to him, you're nothing more than a tool."
Fang Lin's words pierced deeper than any blade.
"You don't matter to him as a son—only as something that can push the Fang family forward."
A brief pause.
"Not someone who stains the family name by acting foolishly."
Fang Lin pulled back just enough for Fang Qing to see his eyes clearly.
"So tell me…"
"What will you choose now?"
His tone was flat.
"You'll apologize, won't you?"
Fang Qing's pupils trembled.
His breathing grew uneven.
He murmured under his breath, barely audible:
"Do they really… see me as nothing but a tool?"
His thoughts spiraled.
> I am the Fang family's young lord…
But Fang Lin isn't wrong.
If Father had to choose… would he ever choose me?
His fists clenched.
Then loosened.
A single question echoed in his mind—
> Should I… apologize?
Fang Lin turned away and began to walk off.
He murmured under his breath, indifferent—
"It seems telling you was a waste of time."
Behind him, Fang Qing watched the others.
They were already in far better condition than him.
Standing. Breathing steadily. Pills in their systems.
A bitter thought rose in his mind.
> If they could do it… then so can I.
His pride cracked.
Fang Qing pressed both hands to the ground and spoke—
once.
Twice.
A third time.
"I apologize."
But Fang Lin was already gone.
He had reached Tian Xueya.
Without ceremony, Fang Lin placed the golden token back into her hand.
"Thank you for this," he said calmly.
"I'll remember it."
Then, as if it were nothing more than a casual remark—
"And be ready for tomorrow."
Before Tian Xueya could respond, a voice rang out from behind.
Wei Shun.
"Young Master Fang Lin," he said carefully.
"Your brother has apologized. Will you not give him a pill as well?"
Fang Lin stopped.
He turned his head slightly, his gaze passing over Wei Shun—
then settling on Fang Qing.
"No," Fang Lin replied flatly.
"There's no need."
The word struck harder than any blow.
Fang Qing's fingers trembled.
He clenched his jaw, rage boiling beneath his humiliation.
"No need…?" he muttered.
"What do you mean, no need?"
His eyes burned.
"Do you think I wasn't injured?"
"Or do you think I'm not even worthy of a pill?"
Fang Lin walked past Wei Shun and stopped directly in front of him.
"Remove his chains," Fang Lin ordered.
Then, without even looking back at Fang Qing—
"Take the others to the Fang family."
His voice hardened.
"No matter who stops you on the way—
do not halt."
Wei Shun stiffened.
"Yes."
Wei Shun walked toward the restrained group to carry out the order.
Just then, Fang Lin spoke again—his voice calm, almost casual.
"Before taking them away, check whether they have any spiritual stones."
"If they do—bring them to me."
Wei Shun paused only for a heartbeat, then nodded.
"Yes."
He moved quickly.
As his hands searched through their robes and storage pouches, some of the captives struggled weakly.
One of them shouted in panic,
"Hey—stop! You can't do that! Those were given to me by my father!"
Wei Shun's expression didn't change.
He forcefully tore the pouch away, ignoring the protest, and continued with the others.
Moments later, he returned and knelt slightly before Fang Lin, placing the stones in his palm.
"These are all of them," Wei Shun reported.
"Twenty spiritual stones in total—three red-grade, the rest white-grade."
Fang Lin looked down at the spiritual stones resting in his palm.
Each one was about half the size of a clenched fist, perfectly smooth, faintly warm to the touch—refined to the point where no sharp edge remained.
So this is the medium of exchange in this world… he thought.
On Earth, value was carried by paper and numbers.
Here, it is condensed power itself.
His gaze lingered briefly on the colors.
White.
Red.
One red equals ten white…
He counted silently.
Three red makes thirty white.
Add the seventeen white—forty-seven in total.
Without any outward reaction, Fang Lin closed his fingers and slipped the stones into his robe.
Wei Shun hesitated for a moment before asking softly,
"Are you… returning to the family estate as well?"
Without even turning his head, Fang Lin clasped Vren's hand and began walking away.
"No," he replied calmly. "Not yet.
If the Family Head asks, tell him I'm roaming the clan grounds to better understand things. Say I may be late."
Wei Shun immediately nodded, offering no further questions.
He turned and walked straight toward the bound figures.
The moment Fang Lin's back disappeared into the crowd, the expressions of the five restrained youths visibly changed.
Relief spread across their faces.
"So… we can leave now, right?" one of them said eagerly, looking at Wei Shun.
"That's what Fang Lin said—after apologizing, he'd let us go."
Wei Shun stopped in front of them.
He walked straight to Fang Qing.
As he reached down to unlock Fang Qing's chains, he spoke in a flat, almost indifferent tone:
"Yes. That was what the young master said earlier."
He paused briefly.
"But his mind has changed."
The others froze.
"For now," Wei Shun continued, "only Fang Qing may leave."
With a sharp metallic sound, Fang Qing's restraints fell away.
Because he had never been given a pill, his body felt weak and sluggish. His legs trembled slightly as he regained his balance.
First… no pill, Fang Qing thought.
And now… I'm the only one released?
Is it because I apologized?
That can't be it… the others apologized too.
His gaze flicked back toward the still-bound figures.
Then why…
Confusion clouded his face as he slowly stepped forward, walking away—
leaving the others behind.
For a brief moment, the faces of the bound youths turned deathly pale.
Then rage exploded.
"Why didn't you free us?!" one of them shouted.
"We didn't resist at all!"
"Why was only he released?!"
Their angry voices clashed with the clanking of chains, echoing loudly across the market square. The noise carried far, drawing everyone's attention.
Whispers immediately spread through the crowd.
"Did you see that? Fang Lin only released his own brother."
"So it was because they're from the same family…"
Another whisper followed, filled with doubt.
"But Fang Lin gave pills to everyone else. Why not him?"
"What exactly is he planning?"
Confusion thickened the air. No one could understand Fang Lin's intent.
Suddenly, Mu Chen's voice rang out sharply:
"Fang Lin! Why did you let Fang Qing go?!
He was the real mastermind behind all of this!"
He paused, then added bitterly,
"Don't tell me your brotherly feelings suddenly awakened."
By now, Fang Lin had already begun walking away through the crowd.
He stopped.
Slowly, he turned his head, his gaze sharp enough to cut. His eyes locked onto Mu Chen.
At the same time, the entire crowd fell silent, all eyes fixed on Fang Lin—waiting for his answer.
"What difference does it make to you,"
Fang Lin said coldly,
"who I keep bound… and who I don't?"
His voice carried no emotion.
"When you were being bullied," he continued,
"you never asked such questions.
Back then, all of them were busy bullying you."
Mu Chen's body stiffened completely.
He hadn't expected that answer. Not even a little.
Fang Lin didn't stop there.
"You should go home now," he said calmly.
"If word spreads that you were involved in this incident, the sect will definitely reject you."
A chill swept through the marketplace.
Everyone understood the warning.
At that moment, it became painfully clear to all—
If you stand in Fang Lin's way,
he will not care whether you are a friend or an enemy.
He will crush you all the same.
Ignoring the whispers, the stares, and the fear he left behind,
Fang Lin turned away and walked out of the market center,
his presence fading—
but his shadow lingering over everyone who remained.
Tian Xueya watched Fang Lin's retreating back as he disappeared into the thinning crowd.
Interesting…
No—far too interesting.
She had seen many proud young masters, many so-called geniuses, but none like him.
You let go of enemies who openly tried to kill you, she thought, her brows slowly knitting together. If someone of your age—or even someone weaker—had been attacked like that, they would have made sure their enemy could never stand again.
Her gaze sharpened.
Yet you didn't cripple them. You didn't even humiliate them to the extreme.
Instead, Fang Lin had remained calm from beginning to end—so calm that it felt unnatural. As if the outcome had never been in doubt. As if those enemies had never truly mattered.
A trace of unease crept into her chest.
Then his last words echoed in her mind.
"And yes… be ready for tomorrow."
Her expression shifted, confusion overtaking her earlier curiosity.
Ready for what?
A meeting? Trouble? Or something far more dangerous…
Tian Xueya clenched the golden token in her hand slightly tighter.
For the first time, she realized something clearly—
Fang Lin wasn't merely changing.
He was moving ahead, quietly and decisively, leaving everyone else struggling to understand the rules of the game he was already playing.
And tomorrow…