My Years as a Menace in the Sect

On the day of departure, Wei Ping'an woke up before dawn.

I wasn't woken up by the roosters. Ever since two of Master Xie's turkeys went missing, the remaining ones have been listless and lethargic. I don't know if they were frightened or if the Master moved them to a different place.

He was awakened by his own heartbeat. He tossed and turned on the bed, his mind filled with thoughts of the secret realm.

After all, it is a trial ground that is only opened once every thousand years, and it contains the cultivation techniques left by ancient powerful beings, lost pill formulas, and the Foundation Establishment Pill as the reward for first place.

Everything felt like someone was tickling his heart with a feather, making him so itchy he couldn't sleep.

He decided not to sleep anymore and got up to check his luggage again. The pills were categorized and placed in different small porcelain bottles, with notes attached to the bottles, written crookedly in charcoal pencil: "Gathering Qi," "Stopping Bleeding," and "Detoxifying." He stacked the bottles one by one into the storage bag's inner compartment.

The talismans were wrapped in three layers of oiled paper. The two teleportation talismans and one defense talisman given by Su Yin were hidden in a secret pocket on his chest. The two speed-up talismans and one formation-breaking talisman that he bought with his own money were placed inside his belt in a place where he could easily reach them.

The dry rations were spirit rice cakes that Zhang Erpang had carried over the day before yesterday. They were palm-sized pieces, hard enough to be used as hidden weapons, but after taking a bite, they were indeed fragrant, more than ten times better than the coarse flour cakes from the medicine testing hall.

He stuffed twenty coins into his storage bag, filled his water pouch with spiritual spring water, and finally wrapped the small half-pack of blood ginseng root in oil paper and stuffed it into the bottom of his bundle. This was a repair material for the Xuanwen Pot, which could be used as a substitute if the pot was damaged again.

He looked at his reflection in the water tank. Hmm, he seemed alright, except for a few dark circles under his eyes. He patted his face, pushed open the door, and went out.

The Seed Path Square was already packed with people. Hundreds of disciples were crammed together, including inner disciples, personal disciples, members of the Enforcement Hall, members of the Pill Peak, and several elite members of the Martial Peak.

A buzz of discussion rose and fell like waves in the crowd, everyone's face filled with barely suppressed excitement. This secret realm, which only opens once every thousand years, was a first-time experience for everyone present. No one knew what it looked like inside, but just hearing the legends that had been passed down for three hundred years was enough to make their hearts race.

As soon as Wei Ping'an squeezed into the crowd, he spotted Xu Baocai at a glance.

Xu Baocai changed into new clothes, the long sword at his waist was polished to a shine, he stood in the crowd with his back straight, and when he looked at people, his chin was slightly raised, still with that arrogant look on his face.

His gaze swept over the mystical pot on Wei Ping'an's back, and his lips twitched: "Wow, you actually carried that thing in?"

"Of course," Wei Pingan patted the edge of the pot, "This thing can block, smash, and even make soup in critical moments. It's an essential item for home, travel, murder, and robbery."

Xu Baocai snorted and didn't reply, but the curve of his lips looked like he was suppressing a laugh.

Further on, Wei Ping'an saw Zhou Yan again. Zhou Yan was still wearing a gray robe, the token at his waist was polished to a shine, and he was looking down at an old book, his brows slightly furrowed, as if he was writing something down.

Wei Ping'an leaned over and took a look. It turned out to be a fragment of a map of the secret realm. It was drawn crookedly and marked with more than a dozen red circles, all of which were warnings such as "suspected beast's lair", "miasma here", and "place where disciples fell".

"Senior Brother Zhou, where did you get this picture?"

"These are old files from the archives, drawn by the previous batch of predecessors who went in before, but they're not complete." Zhou Yan rolled up the book and put it in his sleeve, glancing at him. "Don't wander around once you're inside. The terrain inside the secret realm is different from the outside. In some places, there are remnants of formations every three steps. If you step on the wrong one, you might be teleported directly to the face of a ferocious beast."

"Shall we team up?" Wei Ping'an seized the opportunity. "You have the picture, I have the pot. Let's team up and split the treasure in half."

Zhou Yan was silent for a moment, then said, "We'll see how it goes when the time comes," and turned to leave. Wei Ping'an chuckled. He knew this guy was all bark and no bite; if they really met in the secret realm, he definitely wouldn't stand idly by.

He wandered around in the crowd again and found quite a few familiar faces.

Zhao Sipang, who had chopped wood with Wei Ping'an in the medicine testing hall, also came. Standing at the end of the line in the servants' quarters, he was so nervous that he was almost crumpling the two talismans in his hands. When he saw Wei Ping'an, he waved and said, "Brother Wei! Brother Wei! You're here too! Do you think I have enough talismans? I only bought three defense talismans and one speed-up talisman. Is that enough to last until the first round?"

Wei Ping'an patted him on the shoulder: "That's enough, more than enough. Once inside, find a safe place to crouch down. Don't rush to grab the treasure; your life is the most important thing."

"Understood, Brother Wei!" Zhao Sipang nodded vigorously, his fat face jiggling.

He also saw Zhang Erpang. Zhang Erpang wasn't there to participate in the competition; as a mere second-level Qi Refining servant, he wasn't even qualified to register. However, he had been temporarily conscripted from the medicinal cuisine kitchen to deliver supplies to the participating disciples. He was carrying a half-person-high bag of spirit rice cakes on his shoulder, sweating profusely as he squeezed through the crowd, handing out cakes and shouting, "Fresh spirit rice cakes! Just baked this morning! Two per person, no more!"

"Fatty!" Wei Pingan called out.

Zhang Erpang turned around and saw him. His eyes lit up, and he squeezed over with the bag in his arms. He pulled out three spirit rice cakes wrapped in oil paper from the bottom of the bag and stuffed them into his hand, lowering his voice: "These are specially saved for you. I added double the amount of spirit jujube paste. They taste much better than the ones on top."

Wei Ping'an took the cake, feeling a warmth in his heart. He put the cake away and took out a small porcelain bottle from his pocket, handing it to Zhang Erpang: "Here are five Qi Gathering Pills, which I just refined. They're of better quality than the ones the sect gave out. Take them and eat them slowly, and try to break through to the third level of Qi Induction as soon as possible. I'll bring you to the next competition."

Zhang Erpang took the porcelain bottle, his eyes almost reddening: "Brother Wei..."

"Don't cry, you're a grown man." Wei Ping'an patted his shoulder. "Take good care of the house. I'll bring you some spiritual fruits from the secret realm when I get back."

Just then, the sky above suddenly darkened.

An immense, suffocating spiritual pressure descended from the sky, like an invisible mountain pressing down on everyone's shoulders. The discussions in the square instantly ceased, and hundreds of disciples looked up in unison, only to see more than ten figures standing in the sky, their robes fluttering in the morning breeze, their bodies radiating spiritual light that tinged half the sky with a pale blue hue.

Sect Leader Zheng Xuantong stood at the forefront, dressed in a blue robe with his hands behind his back. His beard and hair fluttered slightly in the wind. There was no trace of spiritual energy emanating from him, but just by standing there, the air within a radius of dozens of feet seemed to be frozen, and even the wind dared not blow forward.

To his left was Xie Yunzhou, the head of Danfeng, wearing a blue robe embroidered with cloud patterns. He held an old compass in his hand, the pointer on the compass slowly turning, emitting a very soft hum with each rotation.

On the right is Elder Ouyang Jie, with red hair and a black robe, arms crossed over his chest, his murderous aura faintly visible. When his gaze swept over the crowd below, the corner of his mouth twitched slightly, as if he found the tension of these young disciples somewhat amusing.

Further to either side were the leaders of Martial Peak, Array Peak, and Weapon Peak, as well as several white-haired inner sect elders. Each of them possessed unfathomable cultivation; just their presence made the disciples below feel breathless.

"Is this the true strength of the sect?" Wei Ping'an looked up at the sky, swallowing involuntarily. He had been in the Cangxia Sect for so long, and this was the first time he had ever seen all the big shots gathered together.

Although Ouyang Jie was also dispatched to quell the rebellion in Luoxia Valley, he was unconscious at the bottom of the cliff and didn't see it at all. Seeing it with my own eyes today, I truly understand what "the foundation of a sect" means. Any one of those dozen or so people in the sky could easily take on the entire Qi family.

Zheng Xuantong spoke. His voice was not loud, but it clearly reached the ears of everyone present, as deep and resonant as a bell: "The Cangxia Secret Realm is a trial ground personally opened by the founding patriarch, the Cangxia True Man, three thousand years ago. The True Man sealed an ancient battlefield ruin with great magical power, storing within it the essence of his life's learning, as well as the inheritance left by the sages of the sect throughout the ages. The secret realm opens once every thousand years, and the last opening was three hundred and forty-seven years ago."

The square was so quiet you could hear someone breathing.

"Within this secret realm lies both opportunity and danger," Zheng Xuantong continued. "It contains sealed ancient beasts, remnants of ancient formations, and buried remains of past cultivators and magical treasures. Disciples who emerge from it, regardless of their final ranking, have already proven their strength. But I must also remind you, this secret realm is not a playground. Every time it opens, some disciples are left inside forever. Your teleportation talismans are your last resort for survival. Crushing them will forcibly teleport you out of the secret realm, but the teleportation takes three breaths. If a beast bites your throat within those three breaths, no one can save you."

Wei Ping'an touched the teleportation talisman on his chest, his fingertips brushing against the edge of the oil paper, which felt cool to the touch.

"The trial will last for seven days." Zheng Xuantong surveyed the entire area. "After seven days, the secret realm will automatically teleport all surviving disciples out. At that time, the ranking will be based on the number of secret realm marks each person has obtained. The secret realm is scattered with fragments of marks left by True Immortal Cangxia. You can obtain them by killing ferocious beasts, breaking formations, and collecting spiritual herbs. The person who ranks first will receive an additional reward from the sect: a high-grade Foundation Establishment Pill, a lost cultivation technique, and a mid-grade magic weapon."

The square erupted in a frenzy. "A high-grade Foundation Establishment Pill?" "And a lost cultivation technique?" "A mid-grade magic weapon! That's a mid-grade one!" The disciples' excitement surged like boiling water, and some couldn't contain themselves any longer, clenching their fists as if they wanted to rush in right now.

Wei Ping'an's eyes shone brightly. A high-grade Foundation Establishment Pill! Two levels higher than the previously rumored low-grade Foundation Establishment Pill! And a lost cultivation technique. He currently only knows a set of Qi Induction Techniques and a half-baked Fire Control Technique. If he could get his hands on a proper combat technique, he wouldn't have to rely solely on smashing pots when fighting people in the future.

"Silence." Zheng Xuantong raised his hand and pressed down, and the square instantly fell silent again. "Now, all peak leaders, follow me to set up the formation and open the entrance to the secret realm."

As soon as he finished speaking, his figure flashed and he appeared a hundred feet above the plaza. Xie Yunzhou, Ouyang Jie, and the other peak leaders followed closely behind, forming a huge circle in the sky with more than ten figures. Zheng Xuantong clasped his hands together and slowly pushed them out, a beam of azure light shooting from his palms and striking the ancient array in the center of the plaza. Wei Ping'an had seen that array before; the paving stones of the Dao Seeding Plaza were engraved with dense patterns, which usually looked like ordinary decorations, but now they lit up one by one, the azure light spreading in all directions along the patterns, like countless rivers flowing simultaneously across the ground.

Xie Yunzhou raised the compass in his hand and poured spiritual power into it. The compass needle spun wildly, emitting a series of crisp chimes. He pointed, and a white beam of light shot out from the compass, merging into the cyan array, instantly doubling the brightness of the array patterns. Ouyang Jie flipped his palms, and two streams of dark red spiritual energy surged from his palms, carrying a chilling killing intent as they poured into the array's core. This was the unique executioner's aura of the Enforcement Hall, capable of stabilizing the array's edge structure and preventing the entrance to the secret realm from collapsing. The Martial Peak Master entered the array with his fist energy, the golden fist force striking the array's core and creating a shockwave. The Array Peak Master and the Weapon Peak Master each unleashed dozens of array flags and magical artifacts, suspending them in mid-air to form a secondary array, layered upon the main array.

The spiritual energy in the sky grew increasingly dense, so dense that even the disciples on the plaza could feel countless fine needles pricking their skin. The air began to vibrate; it wasn't the wind blowing, but the entire space trembled. The grand array in the center of the plaza lit up completely, with blue, white, red, and gold lights intertwining to form a slowly rotating pillar of light that shot straight into the sky.

A crack slowly appeared at the top of the pillar of light, like a rift being torn open in the sky. The crack continued to widen, from a thin line to three feet wide, then from three feet to thirty feet wide, finally settling into an oval entrance large enough for two people to pass side by side. Nothing could be seen beyond the entrance, only a pale golden light curtain rippled slightly, like the surface of turbulent water. Through the light curtain, the outlines of mountains could be vaguely seen on the opposite side, but the outlines were distorted, as if seen through a thin veil ruffled by the wind.

"The entrance is open!" Zheng Xuantong's voice came from the sky, tinged with fatigue. Just maintaining this entrance required him and the peak masters to continuously consume a large amount of spiritual energy. "All participating disciples, enter in turn! After seven days, you can return early by crushing the teleportation talisman; otherwise, you will be automatically teleported out when the secret realm closes!"

The disciples began to file in. At the front were the inner disciples, each dressed in bright robes and walking with a steady gait; they vanished in a flash as they passed through the light screen. Behind them followed the outer disciples, and then those selected from the miscellaneous servants' quarters. Zhao Sipang was at the very end; before entering the light screen, he turned back and waved to the crowd, seemingly greeting someone.

Wei Ping'an took a deep breath and was about to take a step when someone patted his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Zhang Erpang panting as he squeezed past him, pulling a small cloth bag from his pocket and shoving it into his hand: "Brother Wei! I almost forgot! Uncle Zheng asked me to give this to you last night, saying he's getting old and his memory isn't what it used to be, and he almost forgot to give it to you!"

Wei Ping'an opened the cloth bag and saw three jet-black, shiny pills inside, each about the size of a thumb, with a faint oily sheen and a cool ginseng fragrance. They were Meridian Protection Pills, and top-grade ones at that, far superior to any pills he had taken in the Medicine Trial Hall. He carefully placed the bag against his chest, nodded to Zhang Erpang, and strode towards the light screen.

The instant he passed through the light curtain, he felt as if he were enveloped in a layer of warm water. His vision was filled with a pale gold, and he could see nothing or hear any sound except the pounding of his own heart. Then the ground beneath his feet suddenly disappeared, and he felt as if he had been thrown off a mountaintop. A wave of weightlessness washed over him, and he almost vomited up his breakfast.

He cursed the predecessor who opened this secret realm eight hundred times in his heart. Couldn't they have opened the teleportation portal on the ground? Why did they have to make people fall down? It would be one thing if they fell to their deaths outside, but what kind of nonsense is it if they fell to their deaths at the entrance of the secret realm? To die before achieving one's goal, with the inscription "This person died because he couldn't fly" on his tombstone, it's just too shameful to even think about.

The wind whistled in his ears. He struggled to open his eyes, but all he could see was a white fog, obscuring everything. Instinctively, he took the Xuanwen Pot off his back and held it in front of him. Before he could adjust his posture, his back slammed solidly into a tree trunk. With a dull thud, leaves pelted his head, several dry branches snapped, and he slid down the trunk, landing hard on his backside.

"Cough cough cough..." He fanned the dust in front of his eyes, rubbed his back which was sore from the impact, and looked around.

This was an extremely vast primeval forest. The trees overhead were ridiculously tall, their canopies blocking out the sun, allowing only a few slivers of pale golden sunlight to filter through. The air was thick with the scent of vegetation, the concentration of spiritual energy many times higher than outside. Just breathing here made the energy in his dantian three times more active than usual. But at the same time, there was another smell mixed in with the air, a very faint, fishy odor mixed with rust and decaying leaves, as if something was slowly rotting deep inside, or perhaps the territorial markings left by some ferocious beast.

Beneath my feet lay a thick layer of decaying leaves, soft and yielding. Occasionally, I could see one or two white bones peeking out from beneath the decaying leaves, indistinguishable as human or animal bones. The surroundings were eerily quiet, devoid even of insect chirps, save for the occasional low growl from a distant animal, its muffled sound seeming to rise from the ground, causing the leaves to tremble slightly.

Wei Ping'an stood up, brushed off the tree bark and debris, first reattached the Xuanwen Pot to his back, making sure the straps weren't loose, then checked the talismans and pills in his storage bag and hidden pockets—everything was there. Thankfully, he hadn't lost anything when he entered. He'd heard stories from the servants' quarters about unlucky disciples being flung around by the teleportation array when entering a secret realm, their swords and shoes flying off to opposite sides, taking a long time to reassemble. He'd only bumped into a tree; he was lucky.

He surveyed his surroundings. A dozen or so feet ahead lay a stone wall covered in vines, with faint traces of human carving visible on it. These weren't patterns, but rather sword marks, each about the width of a thumb, penetrating several inches into the stone. The edges were weathered, yet they still carried a sharp, menacing aura. This place was likely a battlefield remnant from ancient times; the sword marks and the occasional exposed bone fragments were remnants of a great battle three thousand years ago. A battlefield that could be sealed within this secret realm by True Immortal Cangxia must have been quite large.

Just then, a scream suddenly came from the bushes twenty feet away. The sound was shrill, filled with extreme fear, followed by a teeth-grinding cracking sound as something shattered bones. Immediately afterward, a cloud of blood mist exploded from the bushes, splattering dark red blood spots all over the surrounding leaves. The corpse of a disciple had been dragged deep into the bushes by something, leaving only a long trail of blood on the ground, mixed with bits of flesh and tattered robes.

Wei Ping'an's pupils contracted, and a cold sweat instantly broke out on his back. He had seen that disciple in the plaza earlier; he was an inner disciple standing in the Martial Peak group, with a cultivation level of at least the seventh level of Qi Refining. He had been dragged away silently, without even having time to crush the teleportation talisman. He quickly adjusted his position, no longer standing in the center of the open space, but pressing his back against a thick ancient tree, holding the Xuanwen Pot horizontally in front of him, his gaze fixed on the still swaying bushes.

There was a brief silence in the bushes, then a huge figure slowly rose to its feet.

It was a ferocious, spider-like beast, entirely black, with eight long legs that stretched to a height of over ten feet. Each leg joint was covered in barbs, still clung to the remnants of the disciple's flesh and blood. Its head was densely covered with dozens of eyes, all turning and simultaneously looking in different directions. Two pincers, each a foot long, protruded from its mouth, dripping green saliva that hissed and corroded the decaying leaves. A thick, long stinger trailed from the end of its abdomen, its tip gleaming with a cold, eerie blue light, as if coated with poison.

Wei Ping'an held his breath and slowly shrank behind the tree trunk. He recognized this creature from the sect's monster encyclopedia: a black-bellied wolf spider, an ancient and exotic species. Its adult form possessed combat strength equivalent to a ninth-level Qi Refining cultivator, and it excelled at stealth and ambush, preferring to hide in bushes and wait for someone to approach before delivering a fatal blow. The Martial Peak disciple hadn't noticed the spider silk in the bushes. Looking down at the ground, he saw, sure enough, less than three feet away, a very thin silver spider silk protruded from under the decaying leaves. Had he not shrank back just now, he would have stepped on it.

Another layer of cold sweat appeared on his back.

The black-bellied tarantula scanned its dozens of eyes, but finding no sign of him hiding in the shadows of the tree trunk, it dragged the carcass of its prey slowly back into the depths of the bushes. Only after its dark figure had completely disappeared into the shadows did Wei Ping'an dare to slowly exhale, his legs still a little weak.

He slowly walked deeper into the dense forest in the opposite direction from the black-bellied wolf spider, carefully checking each step with his toes to part the decaying leaves for spider silk or unusual depressions before daring to step down. After walking for about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, a clearing covered by vines appeared ahead. At the edge of the clearing stood a broken stone tablet with several blurred ancient seal characters engraved on it, weathered beyond recognition. Only the characters "禁" (forbidden) and "阵" (array) could be barely discerned.

Behind the monument was an unusually dense medicinal garden. The herbs grew so densely, almost unnaturally, as if they had been forced to grow by something. Each herb was growing right next to the others, and every single one was of excellent quality. Several purple-veined Ganoderma lucidum, some hundreds of years old, grew in the cracks of the rocks. The surface of the Ganoderma lucidum shimmered with a faint purple light, and its fragrance was so strong that it could be smelled from a great distance.

Wei Ping'an's eyes lit up, and he instinctively wanted to rush in, but then he abruptly stopped. Something was wrong. The Cangxia Secret Realm only opens once every few thousand years; if this herb garden were naturally growing, it couldn't possibly be this densely packed. Moreover, having studied in the Herb Testing Hall for so long, he knew that spiritual herbs needed the nourishment of spiritual energy to grow, and the spiritual energy in a given area was limited. Normally growing spiritual herbs would have sufficient spacing between them.

Such a densely packed herb garden could only mean one thing: it was artificially cultivated. And the only people in this secret realm who could cultivate herb gardens were the ancient cultivators who perished here three thousand years ago. How could their herb gardens not be protected?

He bent down, picked up a pebble, and threw it towards the herb garden. Halfway there, a pale golden light suddenly appeared in the air. The pebble struck the light with a sharp crack and was sent flying, shattering into several pieces on the ground. There really was a formation. And this formation was quite powerful; even a stone was shattered. If a person tried to force their way through, their fate would be no better than that of a stone.

He crouched behind the stone tablet, carefully observing the light barrier. Faint runes flowed across the barrier, remnants of an ancient formation, now incomplete, with several broken runes revealing gaps. One gap was about a foot wide, just enough for a person to squeeze through sideways, but this gap was movable, drifting slowly like ripples in water, sometimes to the left, sometimes to the right, difficult to predict.

He picked up a twig and, as the gap drifted directly in front of him, quickly stuck it in. The twig passed through the light barrier without triggering any reaction. He pulled the twig back, and when the gap drifted in again, he stuck it in and stirred it to confirm that it was passable. He first inserted the Xuanwen Pot to test the way, then turned sideways, tucked in his stomach, and slowly squeezed himself in. As his back brushed against the edge of the light barrier, he could feel a scorching current brushing against his skin, but fortunately, he pulled back quickly, and only a corner of his robe was scorched.

Passing through the light barrier, a rich medicinal fragrance wafted towards him. He squatted in the herb garden, carefully picking the oldest purple-veined Ganoderma lucidum, sealing it in a jade box, and placing it in his storage bag. He then picked several mature silver-leaf grasses and Azure Flower plants, all top-grade spiritual herbs rarely seen in the outside world. While digging up a particularly plump Ganoderma lucidum, his fingertips suddenly touched something hard and cold to the touch, unlike a stone in the soil. He pried it open with his fingers, uncovering a palm-sized piece of black iron, engraved with several extremely fine and faint ancient patterns, the direction of which was exactly the same as the ancient medicinal melting patterns on the rim of the Xuanwen cauldron.

His heart skipped a beat. This was a fragment of the Mysterious Pattern Black Gold Cauldron.

Upon turning it over, he saw that the back of the iron sheet still retained a faint fluctuation of spiritual energy. Although it was very weak, it was of the same origin as the warmth that the Xuanwen pot usually emitted. He pressed the iron sheet against the Xuanwen pot and compared it. The patterns on the edge of the iron sheet and a broken pattern on the rim of the pot matched perfectly, like two puzzle pieces fitting together seamlessly.

"I knew it." He lowered his voice, suppressing his elation, and carefully wrapped the fragment in a soft cloth, storing it deep inside his storage bag. The Elder Xuan Ya had said that the Xuanwen Black Gold Cauldron was shattered years ago, its fragments scattered in all directions. The pot in his hand was only refined from one of the main fragments. If he could find the other fragments and reassemble the cauldron, its power would be far more than just blocking attacks and refining its essence. Finding one fragment in the secret realm meant that when the Xuanwen Black Gold Cauldron shattered, some fragments were collected by True Person Cangxia into the secret realm. If he could find a few more, this trip would be incredibly profitable.

He had just finished collecting the fragments when a cold snort came from behind him.

"Let me see what you're holding."

Wei Ping'an turned around, and a young man dressed in the robes of an inner disciple emerged from behind the stone tablet. He was in his early twenties, tall and thin, with high cheekbones, narrow eyes, and a slightly unfriendly smile. A silver-sheathed longsword hung at his waist, its hilt inlaid with three low-grade spirit stones. While not particularly valuable, it was considered decent equipment among inner disciples. His cultivation was around the seventh level of Qi Refining, and his aura was several levels stronger than Xu Baochai's.

Wei Ping'an stood up, dusted off his hands, and put on a polite smile: "Senior brother, I've already picked this Ganoderma lucidum. Why don't you take a look at the others over there? They're not bad either."

"I'm not talking about Ganoderma lucidum." The man took two steps closer, his gaze falling on Wei Ping'an's storage bag. "I saw that piece of iron you dug out of the ground behind the stone tablet just now. Take it out and let me see it."

Wei Ping'an's smile faded slightly. He took a half step back and moved the storage bag behind him: "Oh, it's just a piece of scrap metal. I collected too much scrap at the drug testing center, so I got into the habit of digging up anything in the ground. It's worthless."

"I can judge for myself whether it's valuable or not." The man took another step forward, his tone shifting from polite to commanding. "Take it out."

Wei Ping'an narrowed his eyes. He could tell this person wasn't there to discuss anything, but to steal it. Having spent so long in the servants' quarters, he was all too familiar with this look—it was someone who coveted something and felt you didn't deserve it, trying to use their cultivation level to intimidate you and force you to hand it over. In the past, when he encountered this kind of person in the servants' quarters, he usually chose to back down and run, but this was a secret realm; where could he run to? Besides, the fragment he had just obtained was part of the Profound Pattern Black Gold Cauldron—how could he possibly hand it over?

"How should I address you, senior brother?" he asked.

"Zhao Feng, inner disciple of Wu Feng." The man raised his chin, his hand already on the hilt of his sword. "I'll ask you one more time, are you taking it or not?"

Wei Ping'an's hand also quietly touched the edge of the pot behind his back. He still had a smile on his face, but his tone had changed from polite to something else: "Senior Brother Zhao, we are all fellow disciples. Entering the secret realm to search for treasures depends on our own fate. What I find first is mine. This principle works in the sect, right?"

"Reason?" Zhao Feng scoffed, drawing his longsword with a clang, the tip pointing directly at Wei Ping'an's face. "A mere Qi Refining Level 5 servant dares to talk to me about reason? If you know what's good for you, put your things down. Considering your contributions to the sect, I won't hurt you. Otherwise..." He flicked his wrist, the sword tip twirling in the air, a clear sword sound ringing out, "The secret realm is so vast, no one will even know if one person is missing."

Wei Ping'an's smile vanished completely. He unslung the Xuanwen Pot from his back, gripped the rim with both hands to shield himself, and quickly calculated in his mind: Zhao Feng was at the seventh level of Qi Refining, two levels higher than him; the Martial Peak disciples specialized in swordsmanship, and their speed and strength were superior to those of the Pill Peak disciples; in a direct confrontation, his only advantage was the Xuanwen Pot's durability and the fact that the few bites of turkey he had just eaten had significantly increased the spiritual energy in his meridians. However, a fight would be too noisy, and if it attracted other ferocious beasts or more inner disciples, it would be of no benefit to him whatsoever.

"Senior Brother Zhao, let me give you one more piece of advice," Wei Ping'an said calmly. "This piece of iron isn't much use to you, but it's very important to me. If you insist on taking it by force today, I won't be able to stop you; I'll have to fight you. But think about it, if we fight here, the secret realm is full of ancient formations and ferocious beasts. If we make a big fuss, we'll cause a lot of trouble before we even get the item. It's not worth it for you, is it?"

Zhao Feng was taken aback, clearly not expecting that a mere fifth-level Qi Refining servant would not only remain unfazed but also analyze the pros and cons with him. His arrogance softened slightly, but the greed in his eyes remained undiminished: "Since you know it's not worth it, put the things down. I'll take them, you go your way, and we won't get in each other's way."

Wei Ping'an sighed. Reasoning with him had failed. He gripped the Xuanwen Pot tighter, shifted his weight slightly, and prepared to withstand the attack. Just then, he suddenly sensed the pot's patterns on his back heating up slightly, and a very subtle vibration traveled through his palm, as if reminding him of something.

He glanced instinctively behind Zhao Feng, his pupils contracting slightly. Several small black insects, no bigger than a grain of rice, had somehow landed on the trunk of the ancient tree behind Zhao Feng, their shells glowing with a ghostly blue light. They were corpse fireflies. He had seen these insects in the sect's illustrated guide; they specialized in parasitizing the corpses of large ferocious beasts, feeding on rotting flesh and marrow, and were highly poisonous. They wouldn't actively attack living creatures, but their presence here meant there must be a ferocious beast's corpse nearby, or even a living one.

The tree where the corpse firefly landed had a huge claw mark on its trunk. Five grooves ran from the crown to the roots, each several inches deep, as if it had been dug out by something with a claw. It was fresh. Sap was still seeping from the torn bark, indicating that the claw mark had been there no more than half a day ago.

His heart pounded. There was a large, ferocious beast nearby, and it was very likely the one that had left the claw mark. He looked at Zhao Feng again, his expression shifting from wariness to something more complex. He hesitated, wondering whether to warn Zhao Feng. Although this man was trying to steal his things, they were still fellow disciples, and it wouldn't be right to just watch him get devoured by a beast.

"Senior Brother Zhao," he lowered his voice and pointed behind Zhao Feng, "look at the tree behind you."

Zhao Feng glanced back impatiently, but couldn't figure it out: "Don't try anything funny, I'll count to three..."

"There are five claw marks on the tree trunk, each two inches wide and several inches deep," Wei Ping'an said quickly. "They were left by a bear-like ferocious beast, and it couldn't have been small. And those little blue-glowing insects are corpse fireflies, which feed on the rotting flesh of ferocious beasts. The fact that they landed on this tree means that this tree is the beast's territory marker. The place you are standing on right now is its territory."

Zhao Feng finally took a serious look at the tree, and his expression changed. Although he was arrogant, he wasn't stupid. He had never seen a Corpse Firefly before, but he immediately understood what the width and depth of the five claw marks meant. A ferocious beast capable of leaving such claw marks was at least two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters) in size, and its combat strength was definitely above the ninth level of Qi Refining, possibly even approaching Foundation Establishment. For him, a mere seventh-level Qi Refining cultivator, to fight a ferocious beast of this level alone would be suicide.

"You think you can scare me away with a made-up story?"

"Then look for yourself." Wei Ping'an pointed to the ground beneath his feet.

Zhao Feng looked down and saw that a layer of dark red liquid had seeped out from beneath the decaying leaves he was standing on. It was sticky and had a strong, fishy smell. It wasn't blood; blood wouldn't smell this strong. It was the saliva of some kind of ferocious beast. Immediately afterward, the ground began to shake.

It wasn't an earthquake; something was approaching. The tremors came from the dense forest behind Zhao Feng, each one heavy, thud, like something enormous was slowly approaching. Zhao Feng's hand gripping his sword began to tremble; the tip of the sword wavered, and the sword's sound became erratic. Startled by the tremors, the corpse fireflies took flight, a dense swarm of blue lights rising from the tree trunks, circling once in mid-air, and then all flying towards the direction behind Zhao Feng—their host had arrived.

Suddenly, the canopy of the dense forest was parted by a gigantic claw. The claw was as large as a millstone, its tip curved like a sickle, and gleamed black. Immediately afterward, a massive head emerged from the canopy—that of a ferocious bear-like beast, its entire body covered in dark brown mane, stained with dried blood and bone fragments. Its eyes were dark red, and foul-smelling saliva dripped from its mouth. Its fangs, each half a foot long, protruded from the corners of its mouth. It looked down at Zhao Feng, then at Wei Ping'an, and let out a deep roar that shook the surrounding leaves, causing them to rustle and fall.

Zhao Feng's face turned completely pale. He still held his sword, but the tip was no longer pointing at Wei Ping'an; instead, it trembled as it pointed at the giant bear. He wanted to run, but his feet seemed nailed to the ground, unable to move an inch. Wei Ping'an whispered "Run" behind him, then turned and leaped away, clutching the Xuanwen Pot, moving as fast as if he'd been chased by a dog.

Zhao Feng finally realized what was happening and took off running. The giant bear roared and chased after him, its four paws pounding the ground with every step, sending trees sprawling and branches flying everywhere. Wei Ping'an, running ahead, shouted without turning his head, "Senior Brother Zhao, split up! It can only chase one at a time!"

"Why me?!" Zhao Feng's voice cracked.

"Because you stepped on its saliva!" Wei Ping'an shouted, then suddenly turned and darted into the nearby rocky forest, hugging the Xuanwen Pot and shrinking himself into the narrow crevice between two giant rocks, holding his breath and remaining motionless.

The giant bear didn't chase him. It had its sights set on Zhao Feng, the one who had stepped on its territorial mark, and roared as it gave chase. Zhao Feng's screams and the bear's roars faded into the distance in the forest, followed by the crisp sound of a teleportation talisman shattering. A flash of white light appeared deep within the dense forest, then dimmed again. Zhao Feng had abandoned the trial and teleported away.

The giant bear circled the spot where Zhao Feng had disappeared twice, roared a few times, and then slowly walked back into the depths of the dense forest. Only after its footsteps had completely faded did Wei Ping'an crawl out from the crevice in the rocks, pat the dirt off his clothes, and lean against a stone, panting heavily. His clothes on the back were completely soaked, clinging coldly to his skin. He touched the fragment in his storage bag; it was hard and gritty in his palm.

"Almost got eaten by a bear on the first day, that was too exciting," he muttered to himself, wiping away sweat. He slung the Xuanwen Pot back over his shoulder and continued deeper into the stone forest along its edge. Occasionally, a flash of white light from a teleportation talisman would appear in the distance—these were disciples who had to abandon their missions due to danger. Further away, the faint roars of beasts echoed through the treetops.

Unbeknownst to him, deep within a sunless canyon in the secret realm, a colossal bronze cauldron stood silently amidst the ruins. Its surface was densely covered with ancient medicinal patterns, a hundred times more intricate than the intricate designs on the pot he carried. Scattered around the cauldron were several fragments gleaming with a pale golden light, each with patterns identical to the one he carried.

The cauldron trembled slightly, as if it had sensed something. Then a deep hum emanated from within the cauldron, spreading outwards along the stone walls of the canyon and throughout the entire secret realm.