Chapter 101: The Calm Before the Path

  One Week Later

  "Stupid. You should be practicing instead of skimming through every book in the Technique Hall," a sharp voice echoed through the quiet corridor lined with ancient scrolls and manuals.

  The speaker was a haughty-looking young man, perhaps in his late teens. He sneered down at another boy who looked a year or two younger. That boy—quiet, with calm, unreadable eyes—sat cross-legged on the cold marble floor, surrounded by a messy fortress of technique scrolls and worn-out manuals.

  Before the arrogant young man could pile on more insults, another figure stepped in between them like a gust of cold wind.

  "Get lost," Wei Rong said, his tone calm but sharp enough to slice through steel. His narrowed eyes locked onto the arrogant youth. "If someone wants to study, let them. What, are you envious or something?"

  The arrogant disciple's posture deflated instantly. Even though the boy on the ground was just a nerd in his eyes, Wei Rong was on a different level—someone with real influence, a name that carried weight within the outer sect.

  "Tch..." The youth ground his teeth in frustration before briskly walking away.

  Wei Rong turned, dusting off his sleeves as he looked down at the boy surrounded by scrolls.

  "You’ve suddenly taken quite the interest in studying. Before this, I never even saw you here," he remarked, tapping the boy on the shoulder lightly.

  To his surprise, Xu Mo replied from within the book fortress without even looking up.

  "How do you know I wasn’t interested in studying before? We only met recently. With hundreds of disciples entering the Technique Hall every day, you probably never even noticed me."

  Wei Rong let out a dry chuckle. It was true—they’d only gotten to know each other during the past week, when Xu Mo began frequenting the Technique Hall regularly.

  Wei Rong himself was on a quest to gather various techniques, old and new, to compare and possibly discover patterns that could lead to a breakthrough. It was during one of these sessions that he noticed Xu Mo: the quiet disciple who arrived earliest and left latest, his focus never wavering from the scrolls in his hands.

  It was also Xu Mo who, despite his low profile, offered Wei Rong his insights and annotated notes when he struggled to grasp a particular movement technique. That gesture alone earned Xu Mo Wei Rong’s respect.

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  "Most disciples come here once or twice a week, but you? You’ve been showing up every single day. You’re already getting a little bit famous in the outer sect, you know," Wei Rong commented with a small smile.

  Xu Mo waved his hand in a dismissive gesture, as though brushing away an annoying fly. "Don’t distract me. Shoo~ Shoo~"

  Despite the joke, their bond had grown surprisingly strong over the past week. Though Wei Rong hailed from the Wei clan, he wasn’t part of the direct line. His family merely governed a small city, barely more than a large village. Status-wise, they weren’t so far apart.

  Wei Rong laughed softly. "Alright, alright. So, how far have you gotten in your comprehension?"

  Xu Mo replied without emotion. "Just so-so."

  In truth, he was still skimming most of the techniques. But his system—a mysterious aid bound to him—was silently doing all the work. Just recently, he discovered it had a built-in status screen that monitored his progress in real time. Each skill he scanned was being recorded and stored, and while it showed zero progress for now, Xu Mo knew that would change soon. Today was the final day before the Technique Hall rotated out some of its scrolls. He had already collected a considerable amount of data.

  Ding-Dong—

  The bell signaling the closure of the hall echoed throughout the chamber.

  Xu Mo stood up and brushed the dust off his robes. Wei Rong, who had been casually leaning against a shelf, straightened up as well.

  "What are you looking at? Come help me clean up," Xu Mo said, bending down to gather the scrolls.

  But Wei Rong’s shadow didn’t move. Curious, Xu Mo looked up—and saw that Wei Rong was frozen stiff, eyes wide, face pale.

  Xu Mo sighed, already knowing what had caused it.

  "Looks like I’ll be doing it alone again today."

  This wasn’t the first time. Wei Rong often turned into a statue whenever Mei Xueyin appeared in his line of sight. The moment she entered the Technique Hall, it was as though Wei Rong ceased to exist as a rational being. And yet, despite all the admiration in his eyes, Mei Xueyin never once acknowledged him.

  Xu Mo couldn't relate to such feelings. The entire situation reminded him of the dramatic love triangles in those old novels.

  ‘If this were a story,’ Xu Mo thought dryly, ‘the readers would be screaming at the characters. “Idiot! Someone’s madly in love with you and you still chase after someone else like a headless chicken!”’

  He chuckled to himself. 'Which one’s better? Someone loving you and treating you like a queen for life, or you loving someone else and treating them like a king who won’t even look your way?’

  Still mumbling internally, he tidied up the scrolls one by one and placed them back in their rightful places.

  Thud—Thud—

  Soft footsteps echoed down the corridor, drawing closer.

  Wei Rong finally snapped out of his daze. He blinked rapidly, trying to recover from his trance.

  And then he saw her—Mei Xueyin, walking gracefully, her footsteps almost soundless, her presence radiant like a moon in the night sky.

  And she was headed straight toward them.

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