Chapter Sixteen: The Naive Little Junior Sister!

In the small courtyard, Wang Ran gently lifted his little junior sister and placed her on the bed. Only when he saw that her breathing was steady and she was in no real danger did he finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He turned around and looked at the young man standing at the door, fan in hand, who cupped his fists and said, “Brother Wang, it’s been a long time. My respects to you.”

Wang Ran’s lips twitched as he took in the young man’s destitute appearance—which looked even more pitiful than a bowl of pickled beef noodles. He waved his hand, replying, “Zhao Xiaobai, could you please stop being so pretentious? I really can’t get used to it.”

The young man named Zhao Xiaobai narrowed his eyes with a smile. “Brother Wang, you don’t know—Master told me I need to read more books to dilute my murderous aura. Otherwise, with my level of cultivation, I’d have trouble controlling the urge to kill.”

Rolling his eyes at that, Wang Ran said nothing more. Zhao Xiaobai didn’t mind; he casually took a seat at the stone table in the courtyard and poured himself a cup of tea.

Zhao Xiaobai was one of Wang Ran’s few close friends in the Only Me Sect. He had joined the sect a year after Wang Ran, and was also a prodigy, cultivating at a speed far beyond his peers. However, he had an innate thirst for blood and a penchant for violence. On one mission for the sect, he single-handedly slaughtered a small demon sect—rumor had it the corpses piled up into a small hill.

Some called him twisted; others said he was the reincarnation of a killing star.

Now, with his cultivation at the peak of the Qi Condensation stage, he had been exceptionally promoted to the outer sect. Unlike Wang Ran, however, Zhao Xiaobai’s comprehension was such that he could break through to the Foundation Establishment stage at any time; he was simply holding himself back.

Every time he gained insight into the Dao, he found his own techniques lacking and sought to perfect them, voluntarily giving up breakthroughs for the sake of future progress.

His best moment was when he comprehended a six-star Dao technique, astonishing everyone. But just as others were filled with envy, he gave it up, suppressing his strength in the hope that his next insight would reach even greater heights.

Now, seeing Zhao Xiaobai arrive, Wang Ran couldn’t help but ask with curiosity, “What’s brought you here today? You’re quite free all of a sudden.”

Zhao Xiaobai raised his fan and laughed lightly. “Brother Wang, I just missed you, that’s all.”

“Get lost. If you have nothing to do, I’m going to see you out.” Wang Ran leaned against the doorframe, chewing on a blade of grass.

At that, Zhao Xiaobai gave a wry smile. “Brother Wang, is it wrong for me to care about you? Fine, fine—I wanted to ask if you’re confident about breaking through to the Foundation Establishment stage tomorrow. I have reliable news: if you don’t succeed soon, Elder Liu is going to strip you of your outer sect disciple status.”

He originally meant to joke a bit more, but seeing the sharp glint in Wang Ran’s eyes, he quickly got to the point.

Aside from his daily cultivation, Zhao Xiaobai had another major hobby—collecting all manner of information within the sect, from changes among the elders to trivial gossip. There was nothing he didn’t know. Thus, he had earned the nickname “Hundred Affairs of the Jianghu.”

Wang Ran’s expression was calm and relaxed. “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

Having known each other for years, Zhao Xiaobai trusted him implicitly and said nothing more. After a pause, he continued, “By the way, something major happened in the sect this morning. The second grandson of Elder Bei—the one in charge of the formation arrays—Bei Guoxia, was found lying at the edge of the Fire Bamboo Forest on the northern shore. Rumor has it he somehow got his hands on a talisman and tried to sneak through the formation to cultivate at the central spirit sea. Elder Bei caught him in the act and, in a fit of rage, sent him to reflect on his actions in the Valley of Ten Thousand Serpents on the Beast Mountain.”

Wang Ran’s heart stirred at this. Judging by the description, that must have been the unlucky fellow he’d knocked out with a punch the previous day—so that was his plan, sneaking into the formation to cultivate.

He couldn’t help but ask, “What was that disciple’s name?”

“Bei Guoxia. His brother is Bei Minglie, a prodigy of the inner sect, and their grandfather is the sect’s formation elder. So he’s basically a spoiled scion—quite influential in the sect,” Zhao Xiaobai said.

Wang Ran paused in surprise. “Scapegoat? Fitting name—suits him perfectly.”

Zhao Xiaobai, not understanding the joke, simply laughed. “He’s just a spoiled brat. Don’t let his Foundation Establishment cultivation fool you—he couldn’t last a move against me. But his brother, Bei Minglie, is impressive. He’s made a name for himself in the inner sect and is a top contender to challenge Ye Cang for the position of true disciple.”

At the mention of Ye Cang, Wang Ran’s pupils contracted ever so slightly. A sharp killing intent welled up unconsciously—the childhood friend he once knew so well was now a sworn enemy, a foe with whom he would fight to the death.

Zhao Xiaobai was not surprised. He flicked his fan and added, “There’s also a strange incident. This morning, Senior Sister Yao—one of the true disciples—had a hole appear in the roof of her courtyard on the Third Mountain. Some servant disciples have already been sent to repair it, but she’s kept silent about it. Quite odd.”

Wang Ran’s face twitched, a trace of embarrassment flashing across his features. He cleared his throat and said, “Alright, alright, if there’s nothing else, you should go. I need some rest.”

Zhao Xiaobai, cup halfway to his lips, grumbled, “You’re kicking me out already? I haven’t even finished my tea.”

“Why are you so long-winded? Hurry up and get lost.” Wang Ran laughed and shoved him out.

Zhao Xiaobai protested, “What about your little junior sister?”

“Don’t worry, just let her rest here. It’s none of your concern.” Wang Ran pushed and kicked him out of the courtyard.

Turning back, Wang Ran glanced at Yan Wanrou, who was still asleep on the bed, and shook his head. It seemed that his control over his own aura was still too rough.

With that thought, he crossed his legs and began to cultivate.

What set cultivators apart from ordinary people was the endless spiritual energy in the world, which could nourish their bodies and minds. Even without sleep, by persisting in seated meditation, their spirit would remain inexhaustible.

Closing his eyes, Wang Ran slipped into a meditative state.

Unnoticed, a day and night passed by in silence.

The next morning, Wang Ran opened his eyes and was about to stretch when he suddenly felt a heavy weight on his body, as if something was pressing down on him.

Puzzled, he lowered his head and found a pair of arms encircling his torso and two long, pale legs wrapped around his waist. Looking back, he saw Yan Wanrou had, at some point, climbed onto him in her sleep.

She clung to him like an octopus, fast asleep, a trickle of crystal-clear drool dripping from the corner of her mouth onto his shoulder.

The two enormous weights pressed against his chest made his back break out in a sweat. His lips twitched, and he stood up abruptly. Without his support, the little junior sister tumbled to the ground.

With a yelp, she rubbed her backside, pouting sleepily, “Senior brother, what happened?”

Wang Ran rolled his eyes. He understood now—she was a big-busted airhead, through and through.

“Hurry and get up to wash. The Dao Comprehension Ceremony is about to begin,” came Wang Ran’s free and easy voice from outside the door.