Proving God begins with the principle that no effort is wasted.

It rained for three days straight.

The distant buildings and pavilions near the water were all submerged in the gray-white rain curtain, leaving only blurry outlines.

Jiang Lan stepped out of the alchemy room.

The cuffs were covered with dried medicinal residue, and the fingertips still held a faint warmth from the burning pills, which was quickly cooled by the cold rain.

The raindrops hanging from the eaves were straight and hard, hitting the bluestone slabs and breaking into fine water droplets that splashed onto the edges of shoes, wetting them silently.

He raised his hand, intending to take the oil-paper umbrella standing by the door.

Someone walked in from the depths of the rain and mist.

The blue Taoist robe, edged with silver thread, was the standard attire of the Incantation Clan. The person's shoulders and back were mostly soaked, the fabric clinging to their skin, showing that they had been walking briskly through the rain, yet their steps were steady, without the slightest sign of distress.

The wooden plaque hanging from the waist swayed, serving as an identification mark for those within the inner circle who could participate in the flow of intelligence.

Wang Dong, a senior disciple of the inner sect of the Spellcasting lineage. He is usually low-key and taciturn, does not form cliques or show off, and belongs to the type of person who has little presence in the sect.

Wang Dong walked to the corridor, avoiding the slanting rain, and took out two items from his pocket, handing them to Jiang Lan.

A palm-sized bronze plaque, simply polished, with the powerful character "听" (listen) engraved on the front and fine rain patterns on the back, the interwoven lines concealing a hidden formation.

A rough, folded sheet of paper, its edges curled and softened by moisture, is a privately circulated, unofficial record, not included in the official histories of any sect, yet it holds the most authentic news of the martial arts world.

"Listening Rain Pavilion Order." Wang Dong's voice was extremely low. He glanced across the empty courtyard to make sure no one was there before continuing, "You can ask about news from Yunlin Prefecture City there. There's someone specifically assigned to handle things there; they recognize the token, not the person."

He stuffed the coarse paper into Jiang Lan's palm with a firm, unyielding force, leaving no room for refusal.

Keep the latest issue of "Tales of the Martial World" privately and don't show it to others.

Jiang Lan lowered her eyes and took it. Her fingertips touched the slightly cool copper plate and the soft, damp coarse paper. The two completely different textures were both things that could ward off disaster.

He bowed deeply, clasped his hands in a respectful gesture, and said, "Thank you, senior brother."

Wang Dong waved his hand, not wanting to linger, and opened the oil-paper umbrella he carried with him. The umbrella shielded them from the wind and rain, and also blocked any trace of their conversation.

He stepped into the rain, and after a few steps, just as his figure was about to be swallowed by the thick fog, he suddenly stopped, without turning his head, and only uttered a very soft whisper.

"The world is in chaos."

"The remnants of the Netherworld Altar have resurfaced, and an elder of the Cold Jade Valley has been brutally murdered. The atmosphere in the prefectural city is tense, and all sects are purging their members."

As soon as he finished speaking, he disappeared completely into the white mist and rain.

Jiang Lan stood under the corridor, watching the other person disappear.

……

Jiang Lan turned and closed the door, shutting out the sound of the pattering rain outside and also blocking out all prying eyes.

The room was dimly lit, with only a sliver of grayish-white light filtering through the cracks in the window. Jiang Lan placed the bronze plaque on the table and slowly unfolded the damp copy of "Anecdotes of the Martial World".

The handwriting is messy and the layout is cramped, indicating it was privately engraved.

The first point directly addresses the major changes in the martial arts world.

The remnants of the Youjin Altar have been roaming freely within Anxi Prefecture, their movements elusive, and they have repeatedly attacked the outer strongholds of various factions.

Song Chen, an elder of Hanyu Valley, known as "Slaying General Blade," had a stable and perfected cultivation, reaching the half-step Condensation Realm. He was patrolling the border of the mountain gate when he suddenly died overnight, leaving no trace of his body.

The sect leader of Hanyu Valley had been in seclusion for decades, but for this matter, he forcibly broke through his seclusion and declared to the martial world that he would pay for the blood debt in blood.

When established sects are angered, the martial arts world will inevitably be reshaped.

The second point involves forces operating in the waters.

The bandits of Qianchuanze were all absorbed and integrated by the Black Dan Society. The two major maritime forces, Jiulang Island and Fuhai Village, held frequent secret meetings, mobilized ships intensively, and smuggled goods back and forth constantly, seemingly preparing for a large-scale operation.

Having lay dormant for a long time, the Netherworld Sect is now taking advantage of the chaos of the times to build up its strength, its ambitions now plain to see.

……

He carefully folded the paper and locked it in the bottom of the drawer. He wiped the brass plate clean and put it away close to his body.

The rain continued all night.

The next day, the rain did not lessen; in fact, it became even heavier.

At the Zhensha Vein Martial Arts Cliff, a makeshift bamboo shed was erected to shelter from the rain, but it could not keep out the wind and rain that swept through. The cold wind, carrying raindrops, swept across the platform, making the dark blue stone bricks shine with moisture, and water trickled down.

A dozen or so disciples were gathered at the foot of the cliff, most of them were disciples of the Zhensha lineage, and a few were independent cultivators and registered disciples from other lineages who came to listen to the lecture.

Everyone stood still, and no one made a sound.

The Zhensha lineage is the sect's most powerful and fierce martial arts lineage, specializing in killing, suppressing evil, and breaking through barriers. Its disciples are all brave and fierce, with the strictest discipline and the strongest strength.

Jiang Lan stood in the corner, her figure hidden in the shadows of the crowd.

Beside him stood an old ironwood training post, exposed to sun and rain year-round. The post was blackened and water-seeping, its texture as hard as iron. It was the most common training tool at Yanwu Cliff.

He stood tall and straight, his aura restrained, making him inconspicuous in the crowd. A nominal disciple, at the peak of the Meridian Opening stage, he was nothing more than a lowly ant in the eyes of the inner and core disciples.

On the high platform stood a burly figure.

He wore a simple, unadorned ochre-yellow robe. His beard and hair were snow-white, yet his face was resolute and sharp, and his figure stood like a mountain, exuding an imposing aura even when still.

Chen Xuan, the head of the Zhensha Pulse Academy.

He lifted the twelve-foot-long iron spear with one hand. The spear was thick and cold, and its length far exceeded the height of an ordinary person. It would be difficult for an ordinary disciple to lift it, but in his hands it was as light as a feather and as steady as a rock.

Chen Xuan's gaze swept across the entire venue, his deep voice piercing through the wind and rain, clearly reaching everyone's ears, each word profound and resonant, like the clash of metal and stone.

"The spear is the thief of all weapons, but also the overlord of all weapons."

"Beginner practice focuses on form, minor success on method, advanced success on understanding the meaning, and perfect integration with the body."

"People are trapped by techniques and obsessed with strength, and they can hardly see the pinnacle of spear fighting in their entire lives."

He abruptly changed the subject, his aura suddenly becoming overwhelming.

"To reach the pinnacle, there is only one word—momentum."

As soon as he finished speaking, Chen Xuan stood still with his gun, making no further moves.

There was no wind, no movement, and no outward leakage of energy.

The disciples present were instantly breathless.

The air on the entire Martial Arts Cliff suddenly froze, an invisible, heavy pressure pressing down on everyone like a mountain. Breathing became labored, blood and qi stagnated, and the mind trembled inexplicably.

The wind blowing through the cliff inexplicably changed course, and the rain falling obliquely from the sky was deflected several inches, bypassing the high platform.

This is momentum.

It has nothing to do with techniques or cultivation level.

It is the outward manifestation of the true meaning of martial arts, the crushing of mental and physical will, and the absolute suppression of the weak by the strong.

A moment later, Chen Xuan slowly withdrew his stance.

The oppressive aura suddenly dissipated, and everyone felt a sense of relief, their inner shirts instantly soaked with cold sweat.

"Momentum is neither force nor speed. It is the gathering of divine will and the condensation of mental energy."

"The mountain's imposing presence is like a towering, unyielding peak. With a single thrust of the spear, I become the mountain, and the mountain becomes me. Before the enemy even engages, their spirit crumbles, and their will to fight collapses."

The disciples below the stage stepped forward one after another, gathered around the ironwood dummy, closed their eyes and pondered, deliberately imitating its majestic aura.

Some people force themselves to condense their qi, resulting in disordered qi and blood; others merely imitate the form but fail to grasp the spirit. Most people can't even touch the threshold of power.

Jiang Lan closed her eyes.

The image of Chen Xuan holding a gun and standing in a stance kept replaying in my mind. That calm, domineering, and all-suppressing martial arts essence was clearly imprinted on my mind.

The power of the "Eight Spears of Zhenyue" flowed instinctively within his body, and the energy in his dantian trembled slightly, resonating faintly with the insights he had just gained.

He had no gun in his hand.

With five fingers joined together and fingertips focused, the fingers are used as a weapon.

A sudden glint of light flashed in his eyes.

Exhale, raise your voice, lower your waist, and slump your shoulders.

All the power at the peak of the Meridian Opening stage was condensed at the fingertips, without leaking a single bit.

Basic spear technique – horizontal thrust.

Straightforward, upright, without trickery or embellishment, yet it is the foundation of the Eight Spears, the most stable, strongest, and most ruthless move for defeating the enemy.

His fingertip struck the heart of the ironwood dummy with a resounding thud.

puff!

A dull thud, heavy but not crisp.

The force penetrates the stake, causing the internal energy to dissipate.

Jiang Lan stopped, stood firmly, and maintained a steady breath without any fluctuation.

At the base of the stake, a half-inch deep hole was clearly visible. The edges of the hole were smooth and regular, with fine cracks spreading outwards like a spider web from the center of the hole.

Seven parts concentration, three parts resemblance.

His gaze turned slightly cold, and he knew his own judgment.

His strength had reached the peak of minor mastery, and he was thoroughly familiar with spear techniques.

The only trace of "momentum" was completely empty, not borrowed in the slightest.

It may resemble the form, but it lacks the essence; ultimately, it is merely a mundane spear technique, failing to reach the true realm of martial arts.

What's lacking isn't hard work, but vision, inheritance, and guidance from a master.

As the open class came to an end, the disciples gradually dispersed, discussing amongst themselves, but no one noticed the damaged ironwood dummy in the corner.

Chen Xuan stepped down from the platform, whispered a few words to the steward, and was about to leave.

His peripheral vision swept over the ironwood stake in the corner, and he suddenly stopped in his tracks.

He strode forward, his figure as imposing as a mountain. He crouched down, raised his hand, and inserted two fingers into the finger holes, carefully feeling the lingering force.

Mountain collapse, armor breaking, stillness, domineering.

Its power is unwavering, its strength is pure and fierce, making it the most authentic internal strength of the "Eight Spears of Zhenyue".

Moreover, his power exertion was extremely stable, with controlled release and restraint, showing no trace of the impetuousness or recklessness of a young person.

Using his fingers as a weapon, he split ironwood with his bare hands.

This foundation and this composure far surpass those of ordinary outer disciples.

"Who left this mark on the cave?" Chen Xuan's voice was calm, revealing neither joy nor anger.

The steward immediately went down to question him briefly and then quickly returned to report.

"The headmaster is Jiang Lan, an outer disciple of the Spellcasting lineage."

Chen Xuan withdrew his fingertip from the cave entrance, a deep meaning flashing in his eyes before quickly returning to normal.

"At midnight tonight, have him come alone to the stone pavilion in the bamboo grove behind the Zhensha Temple to see me."

"Don't let others know."

The command is concise and leaves no room for argument.

The deacon bowed and accepted the order.

When the news reached Jiang Lan's ears, the rain was still falling incessantly.

The messenger was an unfamiliar face, spoke extremely quickly, only stating the time and place without saying a word more. After delivering the message, he immediately turned and left, clean and efficient.

In a sect, it is never a good thing or a trivial matter for a high-ranking member to meet with a lower-ranking disciple in private.

The rain continued into the evening.

Jiang Lan walked alone with an umbrella, stepping onto the slippery mountain path behind the Zhensha Temple.

The bluestone slabs were covered with rainwater, and with each step, water splashed everywhere, making a clear and distinct sound that stood out starkly in the quiet mountain forest.

The bamboo forest behind the mountain is deep and secluded. The rain patters on the bamboo leaves, creating a continuous rustling sound, like countless people whispering.

Deep in the bamboo forest, a stone pavilion stands alone.

The stone table and benches are simple and heavy. A pot of hot tea is steaming on the table, and the rising steam gives off a strange warmth in the cold rain.

Chen Xuan sat alone on a stone bench, holding a cup in one hand, his eyes slightly closed, his breathing calm, blending into the mountain forest and rain scene.

Hearing footsteps, he opened his eyes, raised his chin, and said in a flat tone, "Sit."

Jiang Lan closed his umbrella and sat down, his back straight, his expression respectful but not humble, waiting for what was to come.

Chen Xuan didn't beat around the bush; he got straight to the point and hit the nail on the head.

"Who taught you the 'Eight Spears of Zhenyue'?"

"I learned this from the rubbings in the Sutra Repository through self-study and three months of arduous practice," Jiang Lan answered truthfully, without any concealment.

Chen Xuan nodded slightly, scrutinizing the young disciple before him.

Despite his young age, he possesses solid martial arts skills, a calm and composed temperament, and strong self-control. He is also able to draw inferences from one instance to another and make connections between different things, making him an excellent martial arts prospect.

Unfortunately, he was in the most mentally taxing, resource-intensive, and martial arts-weakest branch of the Spellcasting lineage, and was also an outside disciple with no one to rely on.

Resources are scarce, no one cultivates them, and they are practically abandoned.

"His strength is deep and concentrated, his foundation is solid, and his moves are subtle and precise."

"What you lack is not effort, not talent, but orthodox lineage and the cultivation of a solid foundation in martial arts."

Chen Xuan spoke with certainty, getting straight to the point.

"The magic lineage cannot hold you, nor is it worthy of your talent. If you stay there, you will only be wasting your time and squandering your natural abilities."

These words are blunt and harsh, but they also reflect the stark reality of sects.

Jiang Lan remained silent, offering neither explanation nor agreement.

He knew in his heart that the other party was not feeling sorry for him, but was extending an olive branch and offering him bargaining chips.

"I once asked Qian Tong, the head of the Spellcasting Cultivation Academy, for your access to the cultivation system." Chen Xuan put down his teacup, his eyes sharp as spears. "That old fox asked for a million taels of silver."

"To charge an exorbitant price for a nominal disciple is tantamount to humiliation."

Between the various branches of the sect, the transfer of disciples and the relocation of talent can all be openly priced. Qian Tong knew that he valued Jiang Lan, so he deliberately made an exorbitant demand, unwilling to release her, and also wanted to take the opportunity to control the Zhensha branch.

Factional infighting, scheming at every turn, and daggers hidden at every step.

"I wouldn't stoop to making that kind of deal."

Chen Xuan looked directly at Jiang Lan, his words clear and distinct, revealing the core of the game.

"I'm giving you a chance, not through money or favors, but solely through your own abilities."

He raised his hand and pushed a simple hand-drawn map in front of Jiang Lan.

The drawings were rough and the lines were simple, yet they accurately marked a forbidden area.

Yinshan mineral vein.

Jiang Lan's gaze sharpened, and she instantly recognized the information in her mind.

He had seen this place before on the fragmentary map left by the defeated disciples of Youzhanglou, and had also verified it in the books in the Sutra Repository.

The mine has been abandoned for many years, and the underground evil energy has accumulated to a great extent. Ordinary disciples are very likely to be invaded by the evil energy and suffer from qi deviation if they enter. However, it is an excellent place to condense martial arts evil energy and break through the realm.

"Deep within the Yinshan mineral vein lies the former stronghold of the remnants of the Youjin Altar."

"The Demonic Sect was defeated last year, and its stronghold was abandoned and left to gather dust. Recently, strange things have been happening, and the remnants have secretly returned to lie low, acting in secret, their intentions unclear."

Chen Xuan solemnly explained the task, clearly outlining the conditions and the pros and cons.

"You have been in the mountains for three months, secretly investigating the details of the stronghold. Find out the number of people, their cultivation levels, their purpose in hiding, and their secret plans, and report back to me."

"Mission accomplished. You will be exceptionally recruited into the Zhen Sha Vein, enjoying core disciple resources. I will personally guide your martial arts and provide you with full support."

"If the mission is not accomplished, this matter is dropped. No punishment, no blame, no record; it shall be treated as if it never happened."

The conditions are generous, and it seems to be completely risk-free.

But Jiang Lan knew that there were no free opportunities in the world.

The Yinshan mines harbor remnants of the Demonic Sect, fraught with unpredictable dangers and a near-certain death sentence.

This isn't an assessment; it's a pledge of allegiance.

It was to make him step on the blood of the remnants of the Demonic Sect, and completely bind him to the Zhensha Vein and to Chen Xuan's great ship.

He quickly weighed the pros and cons in his mind.

He needs a powerful backer, resources, a voice, and the strength to protect his life and suppress troubles from all sides.

Chen Xuan's recruitment is his only way to break the deadlock at present.

"This disciple accepts the mission." Jiang Lan replied in a deep voice without the slightest hesitation.

Chen Xuan nodded, his expression calm, as if he already knew his choice.

He stood up, took the oil-paper umbrella from beside the pavilion pillar, and stepped into the pouring rain.

Just as he was about to disappear into the bamboo forest, he paused again, leaving behind a promise that carried weight, which was also the source of his confidence to enter the game.

"No one will dare to disturb you for the next three months. Focus on your work and come back alive."

One word is worth more than a thousand acts of protection.

The pressure exerted by the head of the Zhensha Pulse Academy was enough to temporarily suppress the Ye family's spying and pursuit in Anxi City.

Jiang Lan stood up, clasped his hands in greeting, and bowed deeply.

Only the patter of rain and the rustling of bamboo leaves remained in the pavilion.

He stared down at the Yinshan mineral vein map on the table, memorizing every detail of the terrain, entrances and exits, and marked suspicious points, leaving no stone unturned.

Fold it neatly and store it close to your body.

He stood up, opened his umbrella, and stepped into the cold rain.

The mountain path on the way back was slippery and difficult to walk on. Raindrops pounded hard on the umbrella, making a loud, urgent sound.

It's not like rain falling, but more like a knock on the door in a chaotic world.

Knock on the weak's vulnerabilities, knock on the complacency of the mediocre, and knock on the path of the strong.