“Hmph, Lin Tiancheng, oh Lin Tiancheng… You want this kid to soar to fame in one shot, launch a whole ‘god-making’ campaign to boost the Lin family’s reputation and prestige? I won’t let that happen…”
Ji Xiaolv sneered smugly, face full of arrogant pride.
He wasn’t just going to ruin the Lin family’s scheme—he was going to turn it into a stepping stone to push the Ji family, and especially his son Ji Zikang, into the spotlight!
“Ji family’s young master defeats the prodigious boy who embarrassed Tianyin Sect’s leader at the Wan Yin Tournament…”
Just imagining that headline made it hard not to believe it would spread like wildfire.
By then, all the Lin family’s years of effort would end up benefitting the Ji family instead—catapulting their fame across the southeastern region of the empire.
“Click, click…”
Picturing that dazzling future, Ji Xiaolv clicked his tongue in glee.
“Damn, I really am a genius!”
Compared to Ji Xiaolv’s cocky satisfaction, Lin Tiancheng and the Lin family’s Grand Elder looked as if they were about to turn green with rage.
The Grand Elder had carefully calculated everything: even if things went wrong in the first round, he’d have Lin Wuming eliminated in the second—minimizing exposure and keeping the damage under control.
Who would’ve thought that mutt Ji Xiaolv would secretly swap matchups!
“This is bad! Wait, who’s our Ji family mole facing now?!”
A sudden realization struck Lin Tiancheng.
His eyes darted around the numerous ongoing battles until he spotted one platform where the fight looked unusually fierce.
One of the fighters was like a rabid dog—launching suicidal, relentless attacks, trading injuries like his life meant nothing.
No doubt—that was the mole who had taken a berserk pill.
But his opponent…
Lin Tiancheng squinted—and his face immediately turned purple with fury.
His son!
The other person on that platform was none other than his own son!
His son, who had poor talent and weak cultivation—still hadn’t even reached the Qi Condensation Realm.
Lin Tiancheng had specifically arranged for him to face the weakest opponent available to ease him in…
“This is really bad!”
The Grand Elder had also realized what happened and jumped up in shock, rushing forward in hopes of stopping the match—but it was too late.
The Lin family young master had assumed his opponent would be weak, so he charged in headfirst at the start.
But the mole—whose cultivation was actually higher, and who had taken a berserk pill—was brutally ferocious and fought like a madman.
After holding on briefly, the young master sensed something was off and tried to forfeit—but just then, the mole seized his hesitation and slammed a devastating punch into his chest.
Blood spewed from his mouth as he collapsed on the platform.
Within seconds—he died.
Even in death, he thought it might have been a test set up by his father, who wanted him to overcome a strong opponent to prove himself.
It never occurred to him that the other guy was there to kill him.
As for the “Ji family disciple” (actually the Lin family’s mole), the drug’s side effects kicked in right after.
As he slumped to the ground, nearly unconscious, he still managed to turn his head toward the Grand Elder and gave a relieved smile.
A smile that said, “Mission accomplished.”
He thought: after this success, the Grand Elder would surely recall him to the clan and let him live a good life.
Marry a pretty girl.
Live a peaceful, sweet life. Hehe…
And with that lovely fantasy in mind, his world faded into blackness.
On the other side, Lin Tiancheng’s world also went dark.
He almost fainted.
He was already old when he had this only precious son—his baby, pampered since birth—and now that boy had died before his very eyes…
Never mind that Lin Tiancheng almost had a stroke on the spot.
Though a few noticed someone had died on the platform, the Lin family’s young master had always been unremarkable, so not many paid attention.
Most of the crowd remained focused on Ji Zikang’s battle platform.
“Hey, who’s Ji Gongzi’s (Gongzi means Young master) opponent?”
“No idea. Looks like some nobody… probably a pushover, right?”
Those who hadn’t attended the Wan Yin Tournament didn’t recognize Lin Wuming.
But those who had quickly recognized the boy on the platform.
“That’s no pushover. That kid might not be any weaker than Ji Gongzi—in fact, judging by ‘battle record,’ Ji Gongzi may not even be worthy to carry his shoes!”
“No way! Who is he? Sounds OP!”
“I’m telling you, back at the Wan Yin Tournament, even the leader of the Tianyin Sect was—”
The buzz among the crowd grew louder and hotter.
Ji Xiaolv’s grin widened.
That’s exactly the effect he wanted.
The more impressive the boy’s reputation, the more dramatic it would be when his son beat him—skyrocketing Ji Zikang’s fame.
Meanwhile, Lin Wuming’s head was about to explode.
Surrounded by attention, hearing whispers filtering through the noise, he looked totally fed up.
Why was this mission so hard?
He hadn’t provoked anyone, yet he’d been assigned to fight Luoshui’s superstar celebrity?
Now it was over.
Whether he won or lost, there was no way this could be called “low-profile.”
That Supreme Sword Spirit’s condition… probably busted.
All he could hope now was to fake a bit of struggle, win not too easily, and maybe get slightly better rewards than the bare minimum.
Lin Wuming wanted to cry but had no tears. Still, a match was a match—he had to fight.
Since things had already gone this far, he might as well aim for first place and win those fifteen middle-grade spirit stones to make up for the loss.
Across the platform, his opponent—Ji Zikang—was burning with battle spirit.
Before the match began, his father had explained everything—beating this guy wasn’t just about a fight.
It was about smashing the Lin family’s plot and building a future for himself and the Ji family!
His father’s encouragement had given him a strong sense of duty.
For his clan, for his father, and for his own future—he could not lose this match!
And he had full confidence.
That boy might be famous for music, not martial arts.
His cultivation was also lower than his own.
Logically, he should win.
Just then, Lin Wuming opened his mouth.
“Hey, bro… can we talk for a sec?”
“Oh?”
Ji Zikang raised an eyebrow.
What now? Was this a plea for mercy?
Maybe he’d realized he couldn’t win and wanted to lose with dignity?
Hah. Too bad.
Ji Zikang’s plan was simple: end it fast.
Crush him cleanly.
Cement his name.