Projection of the Heavens: I prove my immortality through slaughter.

Night, like thick ink, slowly stained the dilapidated sky of the refugee settlement. The cold wind was even more biting than yesterday, howling through the gaps between the shacks, bringing with it a series of mournful echoes.

Lin Xuan sat cross-legged in a dilapidated stone house that could barely keep out the wind and rain—a temporary dwelling he had "snatched" from several homeless people trying to take over his territory, thanks to his newly improved strength. The stone house was drafty and the floor was damp, but it was much better than the previous dilapidated temple.

In his palm were several low-grade spirit stones he had obtained from Scarface's storage bag. The spirit stones emitted a soft and pure light, and the spiritual energy they contained was far richer and gentler than the spiritual energy floating in the air.

With the book "Detailed Explanation of Basic Spells" spread out in front of him, his mind was completely immersed in the practice of "Object Manipulation Spell".

Within his dantian, the wisp of starlight spiritual energy, like the most loyal soldier, flowed slowly with his will, separating into a tiny strand that ran along specific meridians, eventually emerging from his palm like an invisible tentacle, wrapping around one of the low-grade spirit stones.

"rise!"

Lin Xuan thought to himself, "This is a low shout."

The low-grade spirit stone in his palm trembled slightly, then floated up, about an inch above his palm. It lasted for less than three breaths before its spiritual power waned, and it fell back down with a "thud".

Lin Xuan's expression remained unchanged, showing no sign of discouragement. Being able to lift the spirit stone off the ground on his first attempt was already thanks to the purity of his stellar spiritual energy, far exceeding that of other stones of the same level. He picked up another spirit stone and repeated the tedious practice.

Control, fall; control again, fall again...

Time slipped away quietly as he focused on his cultivation. As a sliver of pre-dawn light pierced through the window, the low-grade spirit stone in Lin Xuan's palm was already able to float steadily, rising and falling, and even moving in simple trajectories within a foot of his body, guided by his will.

The art of controlling objects, beginner level!

At the same time, the light of the low-grade spirit stone in his palm dimmed completely, and with a "crack," it shattered into several pieces of lifeless, unspiritual stone. The spiritual energy within it had been completely exhausted.

Lin Xuan opened his eyes, a hint of weariness barely concealed in them, but more so an exhilaration at mastering new power. He could feel that after a night of continuous consumption and recovery, the wisp of stellar spiritual energy in his dantian seemed to be more condensed than before, and its circulation was smoother.

"Spell cultivation is indeed extremely taxing on spiritual energy and mental focus," he muttered to himself, looking at the shattered spirit stone in his palm, his desire for resources growing even stronger. Without spirit stones, relying solely on absorbing the meager spiritual energy of heaven and earth, his cultivation progress would be as slow as a tortoise's crawl.

He tallied up his remaining assets: five low-grade spirit stones he had obtained from Scarface, a small bag of spirit rice, a few taels of gold and silver, and the book "Gengjin Jue" and "Detailed Explanation of Basic Spells".

"I must go to the market again," he decided. He needed to deal with the spirit rice; perhaps he could exchange it for something. That useless "Gengjin Manual" might fetch a small price. More importantly, he needed to gather more information to prepare for entering the Qingyun Sect. In the original owner's fragmented memories, it seemed that the Qingyun Sect was about to recruit outer disciples, his best chance to escape this quagmire.

After taking a few bites of the hard, dark bread and swallowing it with cold water, Lin Xuan once again used his Wind Control Technique, his figure nimbly blending into the pre-dawn darkness, heading towards the market.

The market in the morning light seemed even more bustling than yesterday afternoon. Many early-morning monks and migrants had already set up their stalls, and the sounds of hawking and discussion rose and fell.

Lin Xuan remained vigilant, not immediately dealing with the items in his hands. Instead, just like yesterday, he first wandered among the various stalls, his sharp eyes scanning the area and his ears gathering useful information.

"...I heard that the requirements for opening the Qingyun Sect's gates this year are higher than in previous years. Anyone under the age of sixteen must have at least the second level of Qi Refining cultivation to have any hope." "Hmph, how easy is that? Without cultivation techniques and resources, in this godforsaken place, even touching the threshold of the first level of Qi Refining before the age of twenty is considered exceptional talent!" "That's right, unless you're like that kid from the Zhao family, who got incredibly lucky and was noticed by his distant cousin who's a steward in the sect, and was given cultivation techniques and pills in advance..."

Upon hearing the name "Zhao," Lin Xuan's steps faltered almost imperceptibly. The deep-seated hatred from the original owner's memories, like a venomous snake awakened, quietly rose to its feet. His expression remained unchanged, but his gaze, like that of the most composed hunter, casually glanced in the direction from which the sound came.

They were a group of independent cultivators chatting together, all at the second or third level of Qi Refining.

"That kid Zhao Gan is a different story now. I saw his aura the other day, he's probably already at the third level of Qi Refining, right? He'll be a shoo-in for the entrance exam this time." "Tsk tsk, having a good backer makes all the difference. I heard he'll be coming to the market today, apparently to buy something for his cousin..."

Lin Xuan's heart sank suddenly.

Zhao Gan! It really was him!

That enemy, who, in the very last part of the original owner's memory, with a cruel and mocking smile, kicked the original owner hard in the back of the head, taking away that lowly life and the last bite of food!

He is not only alive, but thriving, and is even about to achieve great success, becoming an outer disciple of the Qingyun Sect! He is at the third level of Qi Refining... while I have only recently entered the first level of Qi Refining.

A surge of emotion, a mixture of the original owner's lingering resentment and his own icy rage, welled up in his chest. But he forcefully suppressed it; his Dao heart was as firm as a rock, firmly holding back this turbulent emotion. To act impulsively now would be tantamount to suicide.

He subtly shifted his gaze, acting as if he were merely a passerby, and continued strolling among the stalls. But his divine sense, like an invisible spiderweb, quietly spread out, focusing intently on capturing information about Zhao Qian while remaining vigilant for any movement around him.

He wanted to see with his own eyes what his enemy looked like now!

About the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, a slight commotion was heard at the entrance of the market.

Lin Xuan looked up.

A tall, upright young man, dressed in a light blue silk robe and with a jade belt around his waist, strode into the market, escorted by a burly gray-clad servant whose aura clearly indicated he had reached the fourth level of Qi Refining.

The boy was about fifteen or sixteen years old. His face wasn't particularly handsome, but he exuded an obvious air of arrogance. His chin was slightly raised, and his gaze swept across the room with a sense of superiority. The spiritual energy fluctuations emanating from him clearly indicated that he had already reached the third level of Qi Refining. Although his aura was somewhat weak, obviously due to the forceful enhancement provided by pills, he could still be considered a "master" in this low-level market.

It was Zhao Gan!

Compared to the slightly better-dressed, sinister-looking youth in the original owner's memories, the Zhao Gan before him was a complete transformation. Adorned with silk ribbons and jade belts, surrounded by servants and guards, he exuded confidence and charisma, forming a stark contrast to the ragged, numb-faced vagrants and low-level cultivators around him.

He was like a swan that had strayed into a muddy pond where wild ducks roosted.

Lin Xuan stood still, his tattered gray clothes fluttering slightly in the cold wind. He was thin and stood several dozen feet away from the dashing Zhao Gan, as if they were in two completely different worlds.

Insignificance and destitution were vividly highlighted at this moment.

Zhao Gan clearly didn't notice this "unremarkable" old acquaintance in the crowd. He walked straight to several stalls specializing in selling pills and materials, speaking to the stall owners with an unquestionable arrogance. His servant, a fourth-level Qi Refining cultivator, stood guard to the side like an iron tower, his cold gaze sweeping the surroundings, causing some rogue cultivators who originally wanted to get closer to take a look to hesitate.

Lin Xuan watched quietly.

He watched as Zhao Gan casually bought what he considered to be a reasonably potent herb with a few low-grade spirit stones; he watched as Zhao Gan impatiently scolded the stall owner for being slow to give change; he watched as the people around him showed Zhao Gan the fawning and awe he could feel…

The scenes from the original owner's memories intertwine and overlap with the reality before her eyes.

Those cold fists and feet, that mocking laughter, that fatal final kick... and the hard, unpalatable rice porridge in his arms that he couldn't swallow even in death.

A chilling, almost tangible killing intent condensed and swirled deep within Lin Xuan's eyes, ultimately being forcibly suppressed into the deepest recesses of his profound, ancient eyes, leaving no trace.

His fist clenched silently inside his sleeve, his nails almost digging into his palm.

But the expression on his face was frighteningly calm.

He knew that at this moment, he was no different from an ant in front of Zhao Gan and his servants. Rushing forward would only cause the original owner's tragedy to repeat itself, and sever his hard-won new life.

"Qi Refining Level 3... Servant Level 4..." Lin Xuan calmly analyzed the difference in strength between himself and his enemy in his mind. "A direct confrontation would mean certain death."

He watched as Zhao Gan, protected by his servants, finished his shopping and walked triumphantly out of the market, his back view carrying an undisguised arrogance.

Only after Zhao Qian's figure completely disappeared from sight did Lin Xuan slowly loosen his clenched fist, leaving several deep crescent-shaped marks on his palm.

He lowered his head, looking at the rough cloth clothes on his body, and felt the wisp of stellar spiritual power in his dantian, which, although solid, was still weak.

An unprecedented desire to become stronger burned within him like wildfire.

Resources! Strength!

He needs to increase his strength faster and needs more resources! Only with enough power can he avenge this deep-seated humiliation and hatred with interest!

Without further hesitation, he strode to a stall that bought and sold miscellaneous items and took out the small bag of spirit rice and the book "Gengjin Jue".

"Five catties of spirit rice, low quality, I'll give you one low-grade spirit stone. The 'Gengjin Technique'... garbage, half a spirit stone, take it or leave it." The stall owner was a lean middle-aged man who glanced at the item and lazily quoted a price.

Lin Xuan didn't haggle and made the deal immediately. He urgently needed spirit stones and didn't have time to waste on words.

Holding the newly acquired low-grade spirit stone, he now possessed a total of six low-grade spirit stones, adding to the five he already had. This was still a negligible sum, but at least it gave him a glimmer of hope for further accumulation.

He did not linger in the market and turned to leave.

Stepping out of the market, the icy wind hit him in the face, but it only made his feverish mind clearer.

He turned back and took one last look at the misty mountain gate of Qingyun Sect, his eyes cold and resolute.

"Zhao Gan...Qingyun Sect..."

"We'll see each other again soon."

"I hope you'll still be able to laugh then."

As soon as he finished speaking, he used his Wind Control Technique, his figure transforming into a faint blue shadow and disappearing into the rocks of the wilderness.