Su Ming stopped beside his disciple, his gaze drifting down to the withered, frozen earth she had carved. A quiet warmth of genuine approval rose in his eyes.
"It is your own technique," Su Ming said, his voice soft but clear. "You have woven the coiling movements of the Ascending Serpent Surge together with the nature of the Nether Flames, refining the serpent into something altogether new. In the future, this will be your sharpest card. You may name it."
Lin Yao stared at her hilt, the image of the coiling violet-black dragon still fresh in her mind.
"Nether Dragon Ascension, Master."
"A fitting name," Su Ming nodded, placing a hand on her shoulder. The faint warmth of his palm cut through the lingering cold in her meridians. "From a serpent of the cloud to a dragon of the dark".
"You are now a Foundation Establishment cultivator, and your strength has already outpaced your peers. But remember—a cultivator's strength is only as durable as the wisdom that guides it. Keep your claws hidden. Do not show your full power to the world unless it is absolute."
"I understand, Master," Lin Yao said, bowing deeply to him. "I will not let you down."
Su Ming did not tell her to rise. Instead, his hand left her shoulder, and his expression turned solemn. With a slow, deliberate sweep of his sleeve, a sudden and profound stillness descended upon her. The breeze that had been rustling the bamboo groves vanished, and the leaves hung motionless. A quiet, heavy pressure—the deep, resonant presence of a consolidated Golden Core—settled over the clearing like a mountain.
"Disciple Lin Yao," Su Ming spoke, his voice carrying an ancient weight that echoed in her mind.
Lin Yao shivered under the sudden weight of his aura. Without a second thought, she sank to her knees, her heart hammering against her ribs as she pressed her forehead close to the earth, waiting.
"Since the day I brought you back to White Lotus Peak, you have been a registered disciple under my name, but we have never held a formal ceremony," Su Ming said. "Today, you have shattered the bottleneck of the Foundation Establishment Realm, proving your path and showing the strength of a true cultivator."
He retrieved a simple jade token carved with a white lotus blooming amidst clouds, the character 'Eldest' engraved cleanly on its back. He held it out.
"With this token, I formally declare you the first Direct Disciple of White Lotus Peak, and my successor. If I am absent, your word represents mine. The future of this peak will rest on your shoulders."
Lin Yao's breath caught. She stared at the jade token, her fingers trembling. To her, this was a declaration of absolute trust. She was no longer a stray kept out of pity, but someone her master trusted to carry his legacy.
"As the Eldest Disciple of White Lotus Peak," Su Ming continued, "your duty is not merely to cultivate. You will be the shield for those who come after you on this peak. You will guide your future sibling disciples, watch over their steps, and represent our dignity when the world seeks to look down on us. Can you bear this weight?"
A rush of heat rose in Lin Yao's chest, burning away the last chill of the Nether Flames. She took the token with both hands, holding it reverently to her forehead as she bowed to the grass.
"Disciple Lin Yao accepts the command!" she said with absolute resolve. "I swear on my soul and my being in its entirety to protect the peak, to guide my sibling disciples, and to never let anyone tarnish Master's name!"
Su Ming smiled, withdrawing his Golden Core pressure. The breeze returned, rustling the bamboo once more.
"Rise," he said. "The Sect Tournament is approaching, and those vultures are waiting. It is time for us to declare our arrival."
He dismissed her to consolidate her new cultivation base. Lin Yao bowed once more and walked back toward her chambers, clutching the jade token tightly.
***
Later that afternoon, the Wang Clan's butler arrived at the guest pavilion, presenting a spatial bag.
"Peak Master Su," the butler bowed. "Our mining operations in the Greenwall mountains have stabilized. This is your share for the first month—ten thousand low-grade spirit stones and a selection of rare herbs."
Su Ming took the bag. "Patriarch Wang is efficient."
However, the butler's face paled, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Peak Master Su... there is another matter. Lin Fan has escaped."
Su Ming's hand paused. "The suppression shackles in the deepest dungeon should have locked his pathways."
"They did," the butler sweated. "But three nights ago, a suffocating presence filled his cell. The shackles melted, and Lin Fan was gone. He did not run like a cripple. The guards found three of our men dead, their lifeforce completely drained."
Su Ming's mind worked rapidly. Having memorized the Heaven-Stealing Cauldron Art before burning it, he reached a dark conclusion. The technique, combined with residual dragon blood energy and corrupted death Qi, had mutated Lin Fan's dantian-less body into a demonic vessel. And if he was free, he would seek to rebuild his foundation at all costs.
The only place nearby containing a fated legacy was the secret realm.
"I understand," Su Ming said. "Return to Greenwall City. Tell your patriarch to secure the vaults, but do not hunt Lin Fan. I will handle it."
***
Left alone, Su Ming pulled the three Dragon Keys from his storage ring. If Lin Fan reached near the secret realm entrance, his protagonist's destiny might allow him to slip inside.
Su Ming had to depart immediately.
First, he visited the central market and the Vermilion Flame Peak's distribution hall. With a reserve of one hundred and eighty thousand contribution points in his identity plaque, he went on a shopping spree.
He bought a batch of high-capacity storage rings, determined to leave nothing behind. He then traded sixty thousand contribution points for the highest-grade Mystic-rank weapon available—the Crimson Heaven Sword, forged from Scarletsteel and Sunfire Crystal, capable of melting a mountain, and embedded with a demon lord realm tiger beast's core.
For defense, he claimed a high-grade Ethereal Warding Robe. To protect his mind and soul, he secured a Tranquil Soul Bead. Finally, he bought a rare, life-saving Nine-Life Restoration Elixir.
The final tally completely drained his one hundred and eighty thousand contribution points and exceeded it, forcing him to pay an extra three thousand spirit stones from his Wang Clan bag. The Alchemy Hall had also given him mid-grade Qi replenishing pills in exchange for his Moon-Bloom Flowers.
Next, Su Ming detoured to the Scripture Hall. Seeking a basic healing spell, he took the Spring Breeze Vitality Mantra, a standard meridian-soothing art that most disciples ignored.
Returning to his chambers, he activated the Twilight Nether Lantern's Halo of Insight. Within minutes, the simple paths were laid bare. Using his balanced Golden Core, he easily corrected seven minor pathways to harmonize the flow of yin and yang, transmuting it into a unique Yin-Yang Healing Technique.
With his preparations complete, Su Ming walked toward the western transport docks. The docks were managed by Old Lu, an aging outer sect disciple stuck at the middle stages of Qi Condensation. Su Ming wore plain robes, suppressing his aura to avoid attention.
Seeing an ordinary disciple approach, Old Lu didn't even look up. "Wind-Rider carriage rental is fifty contribution points per day. Payment upfront. Move along if you cannot afford it."
"I need a high-grade Wind-Rider boat," Su Ming said quietly. "For a private journey."
Old Lu raised an eyebrow, a dismissive sneer forming on his wrinkled face. "A private boat? That is three thousand contribution points for a permanent purchase. You? An outer disciple?" He reached out for Su Ming's plaque, intending to demand a hefty deposit to line his own pockets.
But the moment Old Lu's fingers brushed the jade plaque, the runes flared purple, displaying, White Lotus Acting Peak Master.
Old Lu's hand froze. The sneer vanished, replaced by a sudden, comical paleness. A tiny, suffocating thread of Golden Core pressure leaked from Su Ming's body, feeling like a mountain collapsing onto the old disciple's chest.
"White... White Lotus Acting Peak Master..." Old Lu's voice squeaked, his knees buckling as he fell to the floor, trembling. "Forgive my blindness, Acting Peak Master Su! I did not recognize the senior's presence! The boat is, of course, free of charge!"
Su Ming took back his plaque. "Three thousand contribution points. I do not take charity." He tapped his plaque against the dock's array to deduct the points. "Yes! Right away, Senior!" Old Lu scrambled, hand-delivering the boat's control token.
Su Ming stowed the Wind-Rider Boat and his new equipment into his storage rings. He returned to White Lotus Peak briefly to find Lin Yao practicing in the clearing.
"Master?" she asked, seeing him equipped for travel.
"I must leave the peak for a few days to handle an urgent matter," Su Ming said. "Stay on the peak, consolidate your cultivation, and do not provoke anyone unnecessarily. I will return before the tournament."
"I understand, Master. Have a safe journey."
Su Ming nodded. He stepped forward, and with a soft chime, the Crimson Heaven Sword shot from his sleeve, expanding into a dark crimson platform of shimmering heat. Stepping onto the blade, he ignited it with a suppressed crimson-gold ripple, launching himself into the clouds toward the Southern Canyon.
The hunt had begun.