Chapter Sixteen: The Innocent Junior Sister

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

Turning around, he looked at the young man standing in the doorway with a folding fan in hand. The latter clasped his fists together in greeting and said, “Brother Wang, it’s been a long time. I offer my respects.”

Wang Ran couldn’t help but twitch his lips at the sight of the man’s affectedly scholarly demeanor, which looked even more pretentious than a cheap bowl of pickled beef noodles. He waved his hand dismissively. “Zhao Xiaobai, must you always be so pretentious? I can’t get used to it.”

The young man named Zhao Xiaobai squinted his eyes and smiled. “Brother Wang, you don’t understand. Master says I need to read more to dilute my murderous aura. Otherwise, with my cultivation, I might not be able to control my thirst for blood.”

Wang Ran rolled his eyes at this, but Zhao Xiaobai was unfazed. He casually sat down at the stone table in the courtyard and poured himself a cup of tea.

Zhao Xiaobai was one of Wang Ran’s few friends in the Only Me Sect, joining a year after Wang Ran. He was also a prodigy, his cultivation speed far surpassing his peers. Yet by nature, he was bloodthirsty and savage—once, during a sect mission, he single-handedly slaughtered an entire small demonic sect, piling the bodies into a small mountain. Some called him twisted, others said he was the reincarnation of a star of slaughter.

Now, with his cultivation at the peak of the Qi Condensation stage, he had been exceptionally promoted to the outer sect. But unlike Wang Ran, Zhao Xiaobai could break through to the Foundation Establishment stage at any time; he simply kept restraining himself. Each time he grasped a new insight into the Dao, he found himself dissatisfied and strove for perfection, willingly forgoing advancement in pursuit of a higher revelation.

His best achievement was comprehending a six-star Dao technique, stunning everyone. Yet even as others looked on with envy, he gave it up, suppressing his strength so that his next realization might ascend to greater heights.

Now, seeing Zhao Xiaobai’s arrival, Wang Ran couldn’t help but ask, “What brings you here today? Free enough to visit me?”

Zhao Xiaobai flicked his fan and smiled lightly. “Brother Wang, I missed you, that’s all.”

“Spare me. If you’ve got nothing, I’ll see you out,” Wang Ran replied, leaning against the doorframe with a blade of grass between his teeth.

At this, Zhao Xiaobai gave a wry smile. “Brother Wang, is it wrong for me to care? Fine, I’ll cut to the chase. Do you have confidence in breaking through to the Foundation Establishment stage tomorrow? I have reliable word that if you fail again, Elder Liu will strip you of your outer sect status.”

Zhao Xiaobai had meant to banter further, but seeing the sharp look in Wang Ran’s eyes, he quickly changed the subject.

Apart from cultivation, Zhao Xiaobai had a particular hobby—gathering every scrap of gossip and intelligence within the sect, from the rise and fall of elders to the most trivial details. There was nothing he didn’t know, earning him the nickname “Little Master of the Hundred Affairs.”

Wang Ran’s expression was calm and unhurried as he replied, “Don’t worry. I know what I’m doing.”

Seeing this, Zhao Xiaobai said no more. Their years of friendship made him trust Wang Ran deeply.

After a pause, he continued, “Oh, by the way, something big happened in the sect this morning. The second grandson of Elder Bei, who manages the formations, Bei Guoxia, was found lying in front of the Fire Bamboo Grove on the northern shore. Apparently, he somehow got hold of a talisman and tried to sneak into the formation to cultivate in the central Spiritual Sea. Elder Bei caught him, flew into a rage, and sent him to reflect in the Valley of Ten Thousand Serpents in the northern beast mountain.”

Wang Ran’s heart stirred at this. It sounded like the unlucky fellow he’d knocked out with a single punch the day before—so the man had been trying to sneak into the formation to cultivate.

He asked, “What did you say that disciple’s name was?”

“Bei Guoxia. His elder brother is Bei Minglie, a prodigy in the inner sect, and his grandfather is the sect’s formation elder. So he’s a bit of a scoundrel, but still wields some power around here,” Zhao Xiaobai explained.

Wang Ran paused in surprise. “Scapegoat? The name suits him.”

Zhao Xiaobai didn’t understand, but laughed. “He’s just a spoiled brat. Don’t be fooled by his Foundation Establishment cultivation—he couldn’t last a single move against me. But his brother, Bei Minglie, is something else. He’s making waves in the inner sect and might even compete with Ye Cang for the position of true disciple.”

At the mention of Ye Cang, Wang Ran’s pupils contracted slightly. A sharp killing intent involuntarily gathered in his eyes. This former childhood friend was now his mortal enemy.

Zhao Xiaobai was unsurprised. He twirled his fan and went on, “There’s another odd thing. I heard that early this morning, Senior Sister Yao, one of the true disciples, had a hole suddenly appear in the roof of her courtyard on the Third Mountain. The handymen have gone to repair it, but she refuses to discuss it. It’s all rather strange.”

At this, Wang Ran froze, a hint of embarrassment flickering across his face. He coughed lightly, “Alright, alright. If there’s nothing else, you’d better be on your way. I need to rest.”

Zhao Xiaobai, lifting his teacup, groaned, “You’re throwing me out already? I haven’t even finished my tea!”

“Why are you so long-winded? Get going!” Wang Ran laughed, shoving him toward the door.

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

“Don’t worry about her—she can rest here. Nothing for you to do,” Wang Ran said, pushing and kicking until he finally drove Zhao Xiaobai out.

Turning back, he glanced at Yan Wanrou, sleeping soundly on the bed, and shook his head in secret. Clearly, he still lacked control over his aura of dominance.

With that thought, he sat down cross-legged and began to cultivate.

The greatest difference between cultivators and mortals is that the endless spiritual energy of heaven and earth can nourish one’s body. Even without sleep, so long as one persists in meditation, spiritual strength flows without end.

Wang Ran closed his eyes slightly and entered a meditative state. With each breath, the Diamond Glazed Body technique circulated, allowing spiritual energy to wash over his body inch by inch.

Unnoticed, a full day and night slipped by.

At dawn the next morning, Wang Ran opened his eyes and stretched, only to feel an unusual weight pressing down on him. Startled, he lowered his gaze to see a pair of arms wrapped around his torso and two snowy legs clamped tightly about his waist. Looking over his shoulder, he found Yan Wanrou, the little minx, had somehow crawled onto him during the night.

She was wrapped around him like an octopus, sound asleep, a trickle of crystalline drool dripping onto his shoulder. Two ample mounds pressed against his chest, making him break out in a sweat.

With a dark look, Wang Ran rose abruptly, and his little junior sister, unable to hang on, tumbled to the floor.

“Ow!” she cried, rubbing her bottom sleepily and pouting. “Senior brother, what’s wrong?”

Wang Ran rolled his eyes. He’d finally figured her out—a busty blockhead, pure and simple.

“Hurry up and wash up. The Dao Comprehension Ceremony is about to begin.”

From outside, Wang Ran’s relaxed voice drifted in.