Chapter 23: This Will Not End Here

Tao Xī'ān was a martial arts fanatic who had fallen out with his master over joining the Martial Arts Academy. They had not seen each other for several years. Yet, when his master collapsed, he was the first to stand up, willing to suffer any injury to protect the dojo. In contrast, the Fourth Senior Brother, Guān Lóngpíng, and the youngest disciple—who had always been by the master's side—were nowhere to be found when it mattered most.

"A crisis reveals a person's true heart."

While Chen Fán had always been deeply valued by his master, even disciples like Féng Yuánchéng and Hé Hóngshān, who had only recently joined, remained steadfast. Compared to them, those two were far inferior.

Tao Xī'ān sighed with a complex expression and said, "I have already given Master an Earth-grade healing pill I once chanced upon. Master Yè from the Bìjìng Sect also sent over pills for him to take. His condition has improved, but there is no telling when he will wake up."

Disciples of the Martial Arts Academy who reached the Bright Moon Tower could apply to enter ruins and secret realms controlled by the academy. Chen Fán’s strength had surged too quickly, and he had not yet had the chance to visit such special places. With his master at the eighth stage of martial arts, ordinary doctors were useless; only Earth-grade healing pills could have any effect. Yet, one or two pills were not necessarily enough to restore him completely. Even among Earth-grade pills, effects varied; not all were suitable for his recovery.

Chen Fán frowned. He had already used his own Jade Resurrection Pill during the recent beast tide. Now, apart from the White Jade Red Sun Pill meant for his own breakthrough, he only had Human-grade pills, which were of little use for a master of his level. Even if he wanted to complete missions to earn points and exchange for better medicine, there was simply no time.

Yún Wēi sighed as well. "My family possesses Earth-grade pills, but I have no authority to access them." Such pills were incredibly precious, and even for his master to possess one was rare. Yún Wēi was only at the fifth stage of martial arts; despite her decent family background, she couldn't easily obtain them. Especially with the White Cloud Dojo in its current state, the Yún family might have other considerations.

Chen Fán nodded, suppressing his irritation, and looked at Yún Wēi and Tao Xī'ān. "Senior Brother, Senior Sister, have you tried contacting the Junior Uncle?" At this moment, the only person he could think of was Lǐ Línliú. By now, Lǐ Línliú should have ascended to become a Grandmaster, and as a core disciple of the Spirit God Sect, his status was extraordinary.

The two exchanged glances, and Yún Wēi shook her head with a frown. "Junior Uncle’s status is unique; he is a disciple of the Spirit God Sect, a secluded sect. These past few days, I have tried to contact their outer sect to pass on the message, but I have received no reply. I suspect my message never even reached him."

Lǐ Línliú’s position was special. After his worldly trials, it seemed he could not easily leave his sect. If the message couldn't get through, his status and resources were meaningless.

"The Spirit God Sect..." Chen Fán exhaled deeply. Such a vast and powerful sect would hardly care about a disciple who had long since left. Their arrogance was on full display. In that instant, Chen Fán felt a deep sense of powerlessness, followed by a burning rage.

He was still too weak. Even knowing his eldest senior brother’s family had been captured and his master had been wounded by the Nineteenth Prince, he was powerless to defend them. He couldn't even help his master recover. His anger was directed not only at his own helplessness but also at the other four sects and two dojos in Yàn City.

As they spoke, a commotion erupted outside. Chen Fán frowned. Zhāng Fān’s expression changed, and he shook his head helplessly. "It must be that same group again, coming to challenge people..."

Tao Xī'ān rose, intending to head out, but was blocked by Yún Wēi and the others. Chen Fán’s face turned icy. "Senior Brother, focus on healing. Leave the rest to me." Blue arcs of electricity flickered in his eyes. Though he couldn't heal his master, there was still something he could do.

He walked out, followed quickly by Zhāng Fān, Yún Wēi, and the other disciples.

In the courtyard of the White Cloud Dojo stood several men in gray robes—clearly disciples from another dojo. Before them, a few White Cloud disciples stood with flushed faces; one was slumped on the ground, indicating a fight had already taken place, with unfavorable results.

Zhāng Fān frowned. "Those are people from the Jiāngshān Sect. They are relatively weak, but they were the first to stir up trouble after Master collapsed. Third Senior Brother handled them alone before, but I didn't expect them to return..."

Chen Fán stepped forward and recognized the youth on the ground—Lín Shìyǔ, whom he knew well among the core disciples. He helped him up. Lín Shìyǔ’s eyes widened in astonishment. "You... you..." He had clearly heard the rumors of Chen Fán’s death and was shocked to see him alive.

Yún Wēi’s expression was cold. "What is the meaning of this, Jiāngshān Sect? Your disciples already lost to our Third Senior Brother; do you still refuse to admit defeat?"

A tall, bronzed-skinned man surrounded by his peers sneered. "The one who lost to Tao Xī'ān was Senior Brother Cài, not me, Zhāng Hàodōng! Where is Tao Xī'ān? If he’s so great, let him come out and face me!"

Hé Hóngshān shouted indignantly, "You are shameless! You know full well that Senior Brother Tao was gravely injured by the Zìhóng Sect and cannot fight!"

Zhāng Hàodōng sneered again, his gaze sweeping over the others before settling on Yún Wēi. He didn't care much for her, as she was only at the fifth stage of martial arts. "Injured and unable to fight? A convenient excuse for cowardice. If he wants to be a turtle, so be it. Since he can't fight, find someone else. I don't care who it is—someone come and fight me!"

Before he could finish his sentence—*shing!* A sharp sword light flashed. Before anyone could react, Chen Fán, holding his sword in one hand, had already struck the man in the waist.

"You..." The man’s eyes bulged, blood bubbling from his throat as he stared at Chen Fán in disbelief. Chen Fán’s speed was too fast; he hadn't even processed the movement. His protective inner energy had been like paper against Chen Fán’s blade.

"With strength like that, you dare challenge a dojo?" Chen Fán said coldly, kicking him in the chest and sending him flying.

Blood sprayed from the wound, staining the ground. Zhāng Hàodōng collapsed, his face deathly pale as he clutched his side. "You... you..." He was a sixth-stage martial artist; otherwise, he wouldn't have dared to challenge them. Yet, against Chen Fán, he was as fragile as a child.

"Senior Brother Zhāng!" The other Jiāngshān disciples rushed forward in a panic. "Who are you? Why did you sneak attack our senior brother?!"

Chen Fán raised his sword again. Sword energy surged, and blood splattered as the disciples holding Zhāng Hàodōng were sent flying with fresh wounds, crashing to the ground in agony.

"You came here to challenge the dojo; did you expect a warm welcome?" Chen Fán’s cold voice echoed. Zhāng Fān and Yún Wēi looked on, stunned. Even during the testing and challenges from other dojos, such violence was rare. Chen Fán was ruthless.

Yún Wēi tugged at his sleeve. "Junior Brother, you..." If someone died, it would be a disaster, and the White Cloud Dojo could not afford the consequences.

Chen Fán smiled. "Don't worry."

Yún Wēi nodded with a complex expression. Though young, she knew he was usually sensible. But then, Chen Fán’s next words left her stunned:

"This isn't over yet."