Volume 1 Chapter 4: A Stir Arises as the Name Appears on the Ranking of Rising Stars

Wood splinters scattered like autumn leaves caught in a gale. Lin Fan stared at the door, which had been smashed open by brute force, and a surge of fury erupted within him.

Who was it? Who was so arrogant as to break in like this?

His fists clenched tightly, his knuckles popping with a crisp sound. A suppressed rage roiled in his chest, making the surrounding air feel stagnant and suffocatingly tense. He stood up slowly, his gaze sweeping toward the entrance like a blade.

"Well, well, if it isn't the famous Lin Fan of our Ancient Dao Sect," a sharp, mocking voice pierced the heavy silence of the Medicinal Herb Pavilion. Moments later, several figures swaggered inside.

The leader was Sun Hu, an outer disciple. He stood with his arms crossed, a look of contempt playing on his lips. Behind him trailed several other equally arrogant outer disciples, laughing and jeering as they cast戏-like stares at Lin Fan and Xia Jiang, occasionally letting out bursts of derisive snickers.

"What’s this, Lin the Menial? You think you’re worthy of the Human Ranking? It’s enough to make one laugh their teeth out!" Sun Hu’s voice was dripping with disdain. He emphasized the word "menial" heavily, as if the very title could crush Lin Fan into the dust.

Lin Fan stared coldly at Sun Hu, his eyes as frigid as blades of ice in midwinter, causing those behind Sun Hu to shiver involuntarily. He slowly raised his head, his gaze piercing directly at Sun Hu’s face. "Whether I am worthy or not—what business is it of yours?"

Sun Hu felt a jolt of alarm at the icy stare, but he quickly regained his arrogant posture. He took a step forward, the fluctuations of his spiritual power beginning to radiate outward. "Oh? So you’re not convinced? But tell me, what right does a menial who doesn't even count as an entry-level disciple have to act so arrogant in front of me? Today, I’ll teach you a lesson and show you that a spot on the Human Ranking isn't for just anyone!"

A cold smile tugged at the corner of Lin Fan’s mouth. His momentum began to rise, an invisible pressure radiating from him that made the air feel heavy. He was tired of this unprovoked provocation and bullying. Since they insisted on picking a fight, he would let them taste the consequences.

"It seems you are truly asking for a beating," Lin Fan said calmly. Yet, beneath that calm tone lay a tidal wave of fury, like the stillness before a storm.

"Asking for a beating? Hahahaha!" Sun Hu threw his head back and laughed, his voice filled with mockery and disdain. His facial muscles twitched, and a fierce, murderous glint sharpened in his eyes. "Fine! Today I’ll show you who is really asking for a beating!"

Sun Hu lunged forward, his right fist clenched, veins bulging. With a fierce punch, he swung toward Lin Fan’s face, the force of the blow howling like a tiger descending from the mountains. The air seemed to tremble under the strike, carrying an intense sense of oppression.

Lin Fan’s eyes narrowed. He shifted slightly, nimbly dodging the heavy blow. Sun Hu’s punch missed, but instead of being discouraged, it only stoked his ferocity. He changed his footwork, moving like lightning, and unleashed a flurry of kicks, each one whistling with lethal intent, aimed directly at Lin Fan’s vitals.

However, Lin Fan’s movement was even more fluid. Like a nimble fish, he navigated through the onslaught, evading every strike with perfect timing. Despite the ferocity of Sun Hu’s attacks, he couldn't even touch the hem of Lin Fan’s garment. The smiles of the outer disciples behind Sun Hu froze, replaced by expressions of astonishment. They had never imagined that a menial disciple could dodge Sun Hu’s attacks so effortlessly.

Seeing that he couldn't land a blow after such a long time, Sun Hu grew irritated. Thinking Lin Fan was only capable of dodging, he lowered his guard, his movements becoming slightly sluggish. At that moment, a flash of light ignited in Lin Fan’s eyes. He seized the opportunity and countered.

He pivoted and unleashed a palm strike. It appeared light and airy, yet it carried the weight of profound true energy. The palm wind whistled, biting and cold, striking Sun Hu directly in the chest. Caught off guard, Sun Hu’s face twisted in terror; he tried to dodge, but it was too late.

With a dull thud, Sun Hu was struck and sent flying backward, crashing heavily into the ground as dust billowed around him. Xia Jiang, who had been clenching her fists in anxiety, widened her eyes in disbelief. She had never expected Lin Fan to be this strong.

Sun Hu struggled to his feet, his face ashen, a trace of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. Clasping his chest, his eyes filled with rage and humiliation, he glared at Lin Fan and gritted his teeth. "You..."

Before he could finish, a cold glint flashed in his hand. Humiliated by the defeat, a hideous expression crept across his distorted face. He pulled a short blade from his robe; it shimmered in the dim light of the pavilion like a viper’s tongue. A dense murderous intent erupted from him as he roared, "You little menial! You dare hurt me? I’ll kill you!"

Lin Fan remained unruffled. He bent down and picked up a broken wooden staff from the floor. Its rough texture felt reassuring in his grip. In his hands, the wood no longer felt like a mere object; it transformed into a sharp blade capable of cleaving iron, radiating a faint golden light.

"Want to kill me? Let’s see if you have the skill!" Lin Fan sneered.

Sun Hu charged again, brandishing the blade. The light of the steel was biting, filled with lethal intent. Lin Fan moved with agility, the wooden staff whistling through the air as he parried every strike. The sound of their weapons clashing was crisp and melodic, like metal ringing against stone, echoing through the pavilion.

Sun Hu’s attacks grew more frantic, the blade falling like rain, yet he could not break through Lin Fan’s defense. Lin Fan’s staff work appeared simple but was filled with profound techniques; every movement perfectly nullified Sun Hu’s aggression.

As the battle raged on, Sun Hu’s breathing grew ragged, beads of sweat breaking out on his forehead. He realized in terror that he was truly unable to overcome this menial disciple. Lin Fan spotted an opening and, with the speed of lightning, struck Sun Hu’s wrist. A sharp pain shot through him, and the short blade flew from his hand, clattering to the floor.

"Ah!" Sun Hu screamed, clutching his injured wrist, his face turning pale. Lin Fan did not let up, following through with a kick to Sun Hu’s abdomen. Sun Hu was sent flying like a kite with a broken string, crashing into the ground with a heavy thud.

He curled into a ball, groaning in agony, his face covered in dirt and blood, looking utterly wretched. The surrounding outer disciples were stunned, staring in disbelief at the scene before them. Sun Hu, a standout among the outer disciples, had been rendered completely helpless by a mere menial!

"You..." Sun Hu struggled to rise, but found his body devoid of strength. He could only glare at Lin Fan with venomous eyes, squeezing out a single word through his teeth.

Before he could say more, a dignified, elderly voice boomed from the entrance like a peal of thunder: "Stop!"

The crowd turned to see an old man in grey robes, with white hair and a youthful complexion, walking slowly into the pavilion. His expression was stern, carrying an air of natural authority—it was Elder Zhang of the Ancient Dao Sect. His presence instantly silenced the chaotic pavilion.

Seeing his chance, Sun Hu scrambled up like a man grabbing a lifeline. He stumbled toward Elder Zhang, pointing at Lin Fan with a voice high and distorted. "Elder Zhang, you must seek justice for me! This menial disciple dared to commit an act of insubordination! He ambushed me and maliciously wounded me! Look at what he has done to me!"

Sun Hu wept as he spoke, his arrogance vanished, replaced by the act of a wronged child. He embellished the story, painting himself as the innocent victim and Lin Fan as a heinous sinner.

Lin Fan watched this display of black-and-white inversion with a cold laugh. He did not rush to defend himself, standing silently to await the Elder’s judgment. He knew that at this moment, any explanation would appear weak; only the truth would prevail.

Elder Zhang frowned, his gaze sharp as he swept across everyone in the room, as if he could see through their very thoughts. He did not respond to Sun Hu immediately but asked in a deep voice, "Lin Fan, is what he says the truth?"

Lin Fan remained calm. He stepped forward and spoke with composure: "Elder, his words are false. It was Sun Hu who broke in, insulted me, and struck first. I acted only in self-defense."

His voice was steady, each word carrying weight, his gaze clear and firm.

After hearing both sides, Elder Zhang did not reach a conclusion. "I must investigate this matter clearly. All of you, withdraw for now. When I have uncovered the truth, I will provide a verdict."

His eyes lingered on Lin Fan for a moment; there seemed to be a faint glimmer of anticipation in the Elder's gaze. Sun Hu, though unwilling, had to suppress his rage. He shot Lin Fan a venomous look, his eyes promising retribution.

Lin Fan ignored the threat. He knew he had to increase his strength quickly to survive in this world of the strong devouring the weak. He turned and walked out of the pavilion, his back straight, his steps steady and powerful. Xia Jiang followed closely behind, casting a worried look at the Elder and the glaring Sun Hu.

As night deepened, Lin Fan returned to his quarters. The dilapidated door creaked in the wind. He sat on the edge of his bed, his mind filled with thoughts. Outside, the wind howled like a ghost, whispering of the storm that was yet to come.