The first signs of unrest came quietly, almost imperceptibly.
In the western courtyard, a group of disciples gathered near the sparring grounds, whispering with sharp glances toward Jiang Hao. They were skilled cultivators, ambitious and proud, each hoping to prove themselves indispensable to the sect—and each deeply unsettled by the events of the previous night.
"You saw him, didn't you?" one muttered, dark-haired and scowling. "Erased three Core Elders as if swatting flies… and now he refuses elevation? How arrogant!"
Another nodded, clenching his fists. "I've trained for five years, clawed my way through blood and sweat… and he just… exists. Undisturbed. Lazy, smiling, yet stronger than any of us."
A third scoffed, his voice dripping with malice. "We cannot allow such a one to remain unchecked. If the sect rewards him—or even tolerates him—we're lost. We'll be cast aside while he lounges and sips tea."
Their eyes flicked toward the center of the courtyard, where Jiang Hao quietly tended to the garden, humming softly as he pruned young herbs. His robe was spotless. His movements careful, deliberate, precise.
To the onlookers, he was both maddening and infuriating.
One stepped forward, drawing his blade. "We need to remind him… remind him that strength alone does not grant immunity."
Jiang Hao paused mid-prune, tilting his head slightly. His eyes, calm and calculating, swept over them. He did not move toward them. He did not raise a hand.
He simply said, softly:
"Your nine-to-five ends when the sun sets."
The words, quiet yet sharp, carried weight that none of them expected.
The disciple who had drawn his blade froze. His teeth clenched, palms sweating. The others shifted uneasily. They had expected arrogance, insolence, maybe even a fight—but not… that.
Before any could act further, Jiang Hao lowered his shears and straightened. "Do as you will." I only ask that you avoid unnecessary overtime.
And with that, he returned to his pruning.
A tense silence lingered. The would-be challengers exchanged glances, confusion and fear dancing in their eyes. They had sought a duel, a display of dominance, but instead had been met with a calm unshakable as stone.
None dared advance.
Far beyond the sect walls, under the thick canopy of the forest, the Demon Sect spies regrouped. Their expressions were tight, their breaths short, hearts still pounding from witnessing Jiang Hao's calm devastation.
"Master will want more," one whispered, eyes wide with fear and awe.
Another held a jade slip in trembling hands, feeding it with his qi. The faint glow illuminated the fear etched in his face.
"He… he hides his power… but he cannot hide it forever. He must be tested. The Master will demand it.
From the shadows, the tallest among them, cloaked in black, stepped forward. His voice was low, sinister. "Enough speculation." We send word at once. The hidden immortal has revealed himself. Prepare for further instruction."
They vanished into the night like shadows swallowed by darkness.
Back at Azure Heaven Sect, Jiang Hao's day continued with its quiet routine. He swept the courtyard, checked the medicinal garden, and poured tea for Elder Wu Tian, who silently observed him with a mixture of pride and unease.
Wu Tian's voice, quiet yet firm, broke the calm.
"Hao'er, be mindful. Rumors spread faster than flames. Some disciples are restless. Others… ambitious. Not all will be satisfied with your restraint.
Jiang Hao nodded, expression calm. "Let them be." Ambition is a form of overtime I refuse.
Wu Tian clenched his fist, his jaw tight. "It is not that simple." Strength like yours… unchecked, undirected… can bring both salvation and ruin. Remember what I taught you? Heaven notices everything. Even a lazy cultivator cannot hide forever.
Jiang Hao inclined his head respectfully, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. "Then I shall continue my nine-to-five. If Heaven wishes more, it will have to clock in.
Wu Tian's expression darkened slightly, worry etching deep lines in his face. "A proverb you will come to regret, if Heaven's tribulation descends sooner than you expect."
Late that evening, the first ripple of challenge reached him.
A fellow outer disciple, Li Ming, brash and hot-headed, stormed toward Jiang Hao in the garden, his sword glinting under the moonlight.
"Jiang Hao! "I demand a duel!" he shouted. "How dare you… how dare you flaunt your power while ignoring our sect?" Are we all mere ants to you?
Jiang Hao glanced up calmly, tilting his head as he sipped his tea.
"You fight out of overtime anger, not necessity. I do not indulge petty quarrels.
Li Ming's eyes narrowed, heat and fury flaring. "You think yourself untouchable?" I challenge you! One duel—now!"
Jiang Hao set his cup down carefully, leaning back slightly. His aura, long sealed and quiet, began to ripple faintly—enough for those nearby to sense the subtle oppression. Not loud, not overwhelming, yet undeniably present.
Li Ming's sword hand shook as the oppressive weight brushed against him, though he refused to falter.
Jiang Hao stood, expression calm, and extended a single hand lazily toward him.
The next instant, Li Ming's sword fell from his hand, clattering against the stones. His body froze mid-step, knees locking. His hair stood on end. Every breath was caught in his chest.
"You… you…" he stammered, terror overtaking rage.
Jiang Hao lowered his hand and spoke softly:
"Overtime is not allowed."
Li Ming collapsed to the ground, unable to rise. Several nearby disciples rushed forward, pulling him to safety, their faces pale. Whispers erupted across the courtyard.
Jiang Hao picked up his tea again, unbothered. "Cold," he murmured, sipping slowly.
Lin Xueyao, watching from a distance, pressed a hand to her lips. Even she, seasoned and strong, felt the weight of his presence in a way that left her unsettled.
In the shadows beyond the sect walls, eyes glowed red as spies reported the incident back to the Demon Sect.
"He is not just strong… he is terrifying," one murmured, shaking.
Another whispered, "And he refuses to wield it for anything beyond himself." How can we bend him?"
The leader's voice was low, sharp, and final. "Do not underestimate him". Test him. Probe him. And if necessary… destroy everything he loves to draw him out.
A cold wind swept through the dark forest. Somewhere in the distance, a faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Jiang Hao's lips—though he did not know it. He had no intention of working overtime.
And yet, the world was already conspiring to make him.
Night had fully settled over the Azure Heaven Sect. Lanterns glowed faintly along the courtyards, casting long shadows across the black stone paths. The air was cool, filled with the soft rustle of leaves and the distant murmur of wind through the mountain peaks.
To an outsider, it might have seemed peaceful. But those attuned to QI could feel the tension lingering like a low storm in the air.
Jiang Hao sat on the rooftop of his hut, legs crossed, tea in hand, eyes half-closed as he listened to the faint noises of the sect settling into sleep.
He was not oblivious. Spies from the Demon Sect were already moving through the forests surrounding the mountain. Jealous disciples were plotting, hungry for a chance to assert dominance. Heaven, as always, watched quietly, waiting for the slightest slip.
And yet, Jiang Hao remained calm.
"Another night," he murmured softly, lifting his cup to his lips. "No overtime." Let's see who dares test it."
Down in the courtyard, three Demon Sect spies had already infiltrated the outer perimeter. They moved cautiously, their qi cloaked in subtle concealments, steps silent on the stone paths.
"This way," one whispered, eyes fixed on a faint aura signature emanating from Jiang Hao's hut. "He's here". The hidden immortal.
The tallest among them, face shadowed under a hood, nodded. "Do not underestimate him." Observe. Test. Report. Nothing more."
They advanced cautiously, unaware that every movement was already seen by a pair of violet eyes from the rooftop above.
Jiang Hao's hand rested on the railing casually. His aura remained sealed, subtle enough that even seasoned cultivators would miss it if they weren't directly in his presence. Yet the three spies were walking straight into a net they could not perceive.
He lifted a finger lazily. A faint breeze swept through the courtyard, carrying with it the softest pressure of qi. Not enough to harm, but enough to make even the most experienced cultivators feel an inexplicable unease.
The first spy froze mid-step. His hand tightened on the jade dagger he carried. Sweat dripped down his temple.
Jiang Hao sipped his tea.
"Overtime is not allowed," he murmured.
The second spy stumbled, knees locked, QI rebelling against him. The third immediately tried to flee, but even before he could turn, a gentle wave of wind swept across the courtyard, sending him sprawling into a flowerbed.
It was subtle. Elegant. Efficient. Not a sound, not a scream—nothing that could alert the rest of the sect. Only the faint scent of crushed petals and disturbed soil testified that someone had intruded.
Jiang Hao set his cup down carefully, rising to his feet. His eyes, calm and unreadable, swept over the courtyard.
The three spies, broken but alive, lay unconscious or immobilized.
"Lesson learned," he muttered, brushing a speck of dust from his sleeve. "No overtime."
Far above the clouds, in a cavern hidden behind a waterfall, the Demon Sect Master observed through a pool of black water. The reflection shimmered, revealing the faint outline of Jiang Hao as he moved through the sect grounds.
His crimson eyes narrowed. "So… he is indeed, as the reports claim. Calm. Strong. Untouchable. And foolish enough to resist elevation and responsibility."
A sharp laugh echoed softly in the cave. "Interesting." This one may prove entertaining… if he survives my next move.
A map of the Azure Heaven Sect spread before him, intricate marks tracing the movements of disciples and guards. Prepare a test. Not too obvious. He must feel challenged, but not forced. Push him just enough to expose what he hides—and find the limits of his resolve.
He leaned back, his cloak rippling in the shadows. "We will see if the hidden immortal's nine-to-five routine can withstand what comes next."
Meanwhile, in the sect library, Lin Xueyao pored over cultivation scrolls, her mind only half-focused. The rest wandered uncontrollably toward Jiang Hao—the calm, infuriating, impossibly strong junior who had shaken the entire sect's hierarchy.
Her thoughts were a storm of conflicting emotions: admiration, fear, curiosity, and… something else she did not dare name.
A soft creak behind her made her spin, sword already half-drawn. Jiang Hao stood in the doorway, holding a tray with tea and medicinal herbs, expression calm, eyes faintly amused.
"You overwork yourself," he said softly. "Tea." Rest. Focus."
She hesitated, caught off-guard. Her heart raced for reasons she refused to examine. "I… I was fine."
"You were not," he said simply, placing the tray on the table. His hand lingered just a moment too long near hers before withdrawing. Calm. Polite. Unintentional and deliberate all at once.
She swallowed, words failing. "Thank… you," she managed.
Jiang Hao inclined his head once, then turned and left, leaving her alone with the scent of herbs and a lingering warmth she could not explain.
The night stretched on. Disciplines murmured about the mysterious junior whose strength defied comprehension. Elders whispered warnings and strategies. Even Wu Tian patrolled the grounds, sensing alert for disturbances.
But Jiang Hao? He sat atop his rooftop, legs crossed, tea steaming in his hands, gazing at the moon. Calm. Serene. Defiant.
"Another night survived," he whispered. "No overtime." Just a little chaos."
And beneath the moonlight, the faintest shadow of a smile touched his lips.
Somewhere beyond the sect, eyes watched, waiting. Plans were set in motion. The Demon Sect would not forget. Heaven would notice. But Jiang Hao, ever calm, ever lazy, had already made a choice: no matter the storm, his nine-to-five life would not be interrupted.
The world would have to catch up to him.