Early the next morning, Lin Wuming followed the envoy from the family and returned to the Lin Clan estate along with a merchant caravan that had just returned from outside the city.
As one of the Four Great Families of Luoshui City, the Lin Clan’s estate was naturally grand.
Even someone like Lin Wuming, a sidelined branch family member, had a small courtyard of his own—a proper place to stay.
Since his departure from home, no one had occupied the courtyard, let alone bothered to clean it.
Lin Tiancheng had been so focused on getting rid of Lin Wuming that it never occurred to him to send someone to tidy the place up.
So, when Lin Wuming returned to his residence, what greeted him was a room thick with dust and a courtyard falling into disrepair.
But this was exactly what he’d expected.
He simply shrugged and dismissed the servant waiting at the gate, then cleaned the place up himself.
Truthfully, as a transmigrator, these past ten-odd years of his life had been pretty miserable.
He wouldn’t even mention his poor living conditions.
More than that, he had no one he could genuinely talk to. It felt as if he was completely cut off from the world—as if he’d never truly arrived in this new one.
That feeling only began to change after he met his senior sister…
‘Senior Sister…’
It’s only been a little while since they parted, but he already kind of missed her.
Though back in the village, he often found her clinginess a bit annoying.
The family tournament wasn’t until tomorrow, and it was only early afternoon now, which gave Lin Wuming half a day to prepare.
But to be honest, he didn’t think there was much to prepare.
He didn’t have any flashy sword techniques or powerful arts.
And even if he did, with his cultivation just at the early Qi Condensation stage, it wasn’t like he could pull off anything fancy.
He only had so much spiritual energy in his body.
Just activating his movement techniques took a good chunk—where would he get the energy for flashy spells?
That said, it wasn’t just him.
Most of the other family disciples competing were the same.
They were all around seventeen or eighteen years old—not exactly powerhouses.
A year ago, when he left home, most of the so-called family elites were still in the late Body Tempering stage.
At most, some might’ve just barely reached Foundation Establishment.
Apart from a few exceptions, most hadn’t even touched Qi Condensation yet.
But Lin Wuming had already shown Qi Condensation-level power at the Wan Yin Conference.
Even the most “talented” of the younger generation couldn’t be that much stronger than him.
Could someone possibly beat him? Maybe.
But kill him? That would be pure fantasy.
So… how would that old fox Lin Tiancheng plan to deal with him?
Lin Wuming narrowed his eyes and pulled out a smooth, jade-like pill from his sleeve and swallowed it.
He could already guess. It’d be the same old tricks—poisoning, drugging, the usual.
But an apothecary was also a poison master.
If they thought they could kill him with poison, they were in for a surprise…
“Might as well swing the sword around a bit and warm up.”
He took out the short sword that the blacksmith elder in the village had made for him and weighed it in his hand.
He hadn’t used this short sword much.
Honestly, it felt a bit too light—probably not a high-quality weapon.
Still, it was a heartfelt gift from the village blacksmith, who’d gone out of his way to hand it to him before he left.
Lin Wuming accepted it gratefully.
A good weapon wasn’t cheap.
Even a decent non-spiritual blade could fetch hundreds of gold taels—about the value of a mid-grade spirit stone!
Let alone a spiritual weapon, forged with rare materials—those were in a whole different league.
A true spirit sword wasn’t just incredibly sharp; it also had a degree of awareness.
High-tier spirit swords—or even legendary immortal swords—were said to develop their own will, fighting and defending their wielder on their own.
For now, though, that kind of treasure was far beyond Lin Wuming’s reach.
Still, a good weapon could boost one’s combat strength significantly.
And if this mission went smoothly…
‘The Primordial Sword Soul.’
If he got his hands on that kind of cheat-tier item, he’d never have to worry about weapons again.
That said, Lin Wuming had a nagging feeling… like he’d forgotten something.
Or maybe missed some crucial detail.
What was it?
As the saying goes, “A hundred plans can still miss one thing.”
People always overlook something.
That’s how Lin Wuming felt now.
It wasn’t even a hard thing to figure out—just that his mind had hit a blind spot.
He thought for a while, his head beginning to ache.
Eventually, he gave up and shrugged, deciding not to waste any more time.
He began practicing his swordplay.
Beginner’s Village had been, after all, just a beginner’s village.
Lin Wuming still suspected there might be some hidden mysteries behind it, but the residents really were just ordinary folk.
As such, he had never truly learned any swordsmanship.
Everything he knew now came from following morning drills back when he lived at the clan estate.
His swordplay was basic, but better than just flailing around randomly.
Plus, as he kept practicing, he discovered that by combining his footwork into the sword forms, the sword technique itself didn’t change, but his movements became more elusive—harder to read.
That realization excited him.
Improving his strength was never a waste, and with the tournament tomorrow, whether for the sake of winning prizes or guarding against the Lin family’s schemes, he needed to boost his combat abilities as much as possible.
“Sigh… it’s a shame the sword is just too short…”
After practicing a while, Lin Wuming frowned at the short sword in his hand.
He wasn’t even sure how effective it’d be in a real fight—he couldn’t even practice properly with it.
But right now, he didn’t have any better options.
Asking the Lin family for a better weapon?
That would be a joke.
It’d just give them another opportunity to screw him over.
For now, he’d have to make do.
Once the mission was over, everything would turn around…
After an afternoon of sword practice, it was finally dinnertime.
The Lin family naturally prepared a lavish feast for him, claiming it was to help him eat well, regain strength, and perform better at the tournament tomorrow.
Lin Wuming accepted everything without protest, happily enjoying the gourmet spread they sent him, showing no sign of suspicion.
That night, Lin Wuming was in high spirits.
The Lin Clan Patriarch, Lin Tiancheng, and the Grand Elder were also quite pleased.
After all, Lin Wuming seemed even dumber than they’d hoped—he just gobbled down the “delicacies” they’d sent over.
But there were others who weren’t so happy that night.
He Yingying was not happy.
And neither were Miss Liu and her maidservant…
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