After casting one last vicious glance toward the mountain peak, Ling Feng knew he wouldn't be able to go any farther.
Foundation Establishment cultivators patrolled the area day and night from every direction. Even if the invisibility talisman could hide him for a while, there was no way it would let him safely make a round trip.
I refuse to believe that lecherous bastard Ji Chang can resist Little Mother's charm.
Thinking back to Luo Nishang's alluring figure in that half-transparent gauze palace dress, Ling Feng's heart burned.
When he looked toward the mountain peak again, a trace of longing filled his gaze.
Who wouldn't want to be a rich second-generation cultivator—free to do whatever they pleased?
The next day, noon — Shen Dao Sect Martial Hall
As the number one force in the Western Wastelands, the Shen Dao Sect was a holy land in the eyes of countless cultivators.
Even the Ji Family, another top-tier power, was publicly considered slightly inferior to the Shen Dao Sect.
After all, within the past thousand years, the Shen Dao Sect had produced two confirmed Nascent Transformation Heavenly Lords.
The Ji Family, on the other hand, only had one ancestor rumored to have reached that realm.
Moreover, the Shen Dao Sect was not structured as a clan, which made its scale far larger.
Of course, not just anyone could join such a top sect.
Possessing three spiritual roots was the most basic requirement. In many sects, that alone would already qualify someone for the inner sect.
But in the Shen Dao Sect, it only allowed entry into the outer sect.
There were also strict limits on age and cultivation.
To enter the inner sect, one had to successfully break through to the Foundation Establishment stage before the age of thirty-five. And even then, if the Dao foundation formed was not at least mid-grade, one still wouldn't qualify for the inner sect. Instead, they would be assigned the title of Outer Sect Deacon, similar to those who broke through after exceeding the age limit.
In theory, their status was comparable to inner disciples.
In reality, the difference in treatment was like heaven and earth.
Though the conditions were harsh, concentrating vast resources on the most talented cultivators allowed the Shen Dao Sect to remain the dominant power of the Western Wastelands for over ten thousand years.
Among them were even several great figures who had risen from humble backgrounds to become Nascent Soul True Lords.
Within the Shen Dao Sect, True Disciples were also known as Seeds of True Masters.
As long as they did not die prematurely, more than half of them would eventually become Golden Core True Masters, and among them several would even ascend to become Nascent Soul True Lords.
To the countless inner disciples, this was their Dragon Gate.
Yet over thousands of years, even a powerhouse like the Shen Dao Sect could not escape internal complexities. Factions and power struggles had grown increasingly tangled.
Over the past eight hundred years, almost every newly selected True Disciple had come from a powerful background.
Originally, everyone assumed this generation would be no different.
But unexpectedly, a dark horse appeared.
Ling Feng.
An ordinary inner disciple who had spent years cultivating quietly and completing missions. Step by step, he defeated many well-known inner sect experts, passed trial after trial, and reached the final round.
In earlier times, a cultivator with a top third-grade Dao foundation, mid-Foundation Establishment cultivation, and mastery of a perfected spell would indeed have had a chance of becoming a True Disciple.
Unfortunately…
His opponent was Ji Chang.
Thinking of this, many inner sect experts looked toward Ling Feng on the martial stage with faint regret.
Dressed in a black daoist robe, his expression cold and composed, he truly looked every bit the part of a master.
But before that person, he was destined to be nothing more than a foil.
Of course, the ordinary inner disciples who didn't know the inside story saw things differently.
To them, Ling Feng was an idol.
"Senior Brother Ling, you can do it!"
"He passed the True Disciple trial at just twenty-three and defeated several of the inner sect's top ten experts. Senior Brother Ling will definitely become a True Disciple!"
"Exactly! Senior Brother Ling Feng is the role model for all disciples from humble backgrounds!"
Compared to the countless cultivators who couldn't even join the Shen Dao Sect, every inner sect disciple here was already a genius.
But in this world, geniuses were the most common thing of all.
Just like a phrase Ji Chang remembered from a game in his previous life:
"Reaching the rank of King is only the threshold to seeing the gods."
Without stronger spirit artifacts, better cultivation techniques, or more spirit stones, the gap between disciples from humble backgrounds and those from powerful families would only grow wider.
Talent alone couldn't bridge that gap.
At least, most geniuses from poor backgrounds couldn't.
Yet now someone had actually done it.
Naturally, that stirred deep resonance among them.
What they didn't realize was that the cultivators from noble families seated across from them—dressed in luxurious daoist robes—were all wearing faint looks of mockery.
A humble genius who had passed trial after trial?
At best, he had only gained the qualification to stand face-to-face with that person.
They all knew the truth.
Ji Chang had never needed to participate in the True Disciple trials at all. If he wanted to, the sect would grant him the qualification to compete for True Disciple at any time.
It was simply unfortunate for Ling Feng that he happened to collide with that man.
Once he lost, he would have to wait several more years for another chance.
And in cultivation, a single step behind often meant falling behind forever.
Standing quietly on the martial stage, Ling Feng tried his best to regulate his breathing and spiritual power as he waited for his opponent.
The surrounding discussions did nothing to shake his mind.
Until his gaze suddenly fell upon a familiar, beautiful figure.
Whoosh.
The steady rhythm of his breathing faltered instantly.
Just like what he had seen at dawn that morning.
The woman who had raised him—his foster mother.
Her face looked exhausted, her hair messy, her aura unstable. She walked with an unsteady gait, and the once alluring and graceful face now bore a clear handprint.
It was obvious she had suffered something inhuman the previous night.
And yet…
Even in that state, she still came to watch his match.
A surge of guilt rose in Ling Feng's heart, disrupting his breathing for a moment.
But only for a moment.
After silently reciting the Qingxin Mantra several times, he quickly stabilized his state again.
I'm sorry, Little Mother.
In the future, I will treat you well… and avenge you.
After the failed infiltration attempt the night before, Ling Feng had not left.
Instead, he waited at the foot of the mountain until dawn.
Only when he saw Luo Nishang emerge—her hair disheveled, dressed in a plain daoist robe, walking with difficulty and her face swollen red—did he finally relax.
Today's battle for the True Disciple position…
He had already won.
Although he had never experienced such things himself, at his age he had heard enough.
Little Mother's condition clearly showed she had been brutally violated.
All he needed to do was wait for the right moment and trigger the poison.
Victory would be his.
And regardless of the process, the final result would be that he defeated the widely acclaimed Ji Chang.
In the eyes of the sect elders, his status would soar, and the resources he received would increase.
Compared to that…
What did a little sacrifice matter?
Time slowly passed.
As the appointed moment approached and Ji Chang still hadn't appeared, murmurs began spreading through the crowd. Even some of the sect elders watching from above frowned slightly.
Then suddenly, a wave of startled cries erupted.
"He's here!"
"Senior Brother Ji has arrived!"
"That aura… could Senior Brother Ji have already broken through to late Foundation Establishment?"
Step. Step. Step.
The footsteps sounded neither heavy nor light.
Yet everyone present was at least a Foundation Establishment cultivator. They could clearly sense the invisible momentum hidden within each step—growing heavier and heavier.
For ordinary cultivators, without extraordinary willpower and mental fortitude, just these few steps alone would shake their Dao hearts, leave them drenched in sweat, and reduce their combat power by thirty percent.
"Not bad."
"So this is the son of True Lord Ji. A tiger father truly has no dog son."
"The disciple named Ling Feng on the other side isn't bad either."