Chapter Seventy-One: The Sorrow of Warriors

The moment the man in black uttered the words "spiritual power," Liu Kuang knew he had been exposed. Yet, rather than panic, he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Before coming to participate in the Cloudflow Sect’s disciple entrance test, Liu Pan had warned him: if you want to keep a low profile, avoid using your spiritual power as much as possible.

In truth, Liu Kuang had never cared much about keeping a low profile. The only reason he refrained from using spiritual power was because Liu Pan wished to remain inconspicuous. After discussing it with Yan, Yan advised him to follow Liu Pan’s lead and keep a low profile as well.

Ultimately, it was more Yan’s idea; he believed that staying close to someone as mysterious as Liu Pan would keep them out of unnecessary trouble, and so he encouraged Liu Kuang to keep his head down. But what Liu Kuang hadn’t anticipated was being ambushed in the very square where the Cloudflow Sect recruited disciples, forcing him to reveal his spiritual strength.

Liu Kuang’s face flushed—not out of embarrassment at being the center of attention, but because after repelling Xu Yangfeng, the residual energy he left behind rampaged uncontrollably within Liu Kuang’s body. The man in black noticed this turmoil immediately. Without hesitation, he reached out and patted Liu Kuang on the shoulder. In moments, the wild energy in Liu Kuang’s body calmed.

“Thank you, elder,” Liu Kuang said with gratitude in his eyes, bowing respectfully.

Even if the elder hadn’t intervened, Liu Kuang could have subdued the rampaging energy himself with a bit of effort. Still, since the elder had helped, it was only right to express his thanks.

The man in black looked pleased, surveying Liu Kuang from head to toe. “What is your name? Are you here to take the entrance test for Cloudflow Sect?”

“I am Liu Kuang, here to participate in the test,” Liu Kuang replied, bowing again with respect.

“Liu Kuang?” The elder nodded, then said, “I am Elder Yang of the Array Hall. Come with me into the sect directly—you needn’t bother with these tests.”

Liu Kuang was momentarily stunned, then joy spread across his face. He bowed once more. “Disciple Liu Kuang thanks Elder Yang.”

He fully understood why Elder Yang was treating him this way. When Yan first explained spiritual power to him, he’d realized what a rare gift it was among cultivators. When he awakened his own spiritual power, he felt it for himself.

Thus, he wasn’t surprised by the current turn of events. His display of innocence was only an act; in this world, he was still in the lower stages of cultivation. If others discovered how much he truly knew, it would only invite trouble.

Liu Pan, observing Liu Kuang’s performance, was quite satisfied. After all, this was the protagonist he had created—showing such prudence was as it should be.

As for Elder Yang, when he introduced himself as an Array Hall elder, Liu Pan’s mind instantly recalled everything he had written about the man.

Elder Yang was not a major character in his book but was certainly capable. Liu Pan thought that Liu Kuang’s encounter with Elder Yang was, in fact, fortuitous. Elder Yang was from the Array Hall, and Liu Kuang’s goal was precisely to study the art of arrays—a perfect match.

It was somewhat uncanny; the events unfolding did not follow the novel’s original plot. According to Liu Pan’s story, wherever Liu Kuang went, he rarely encountered pleasant circumstances. For example, in a scene like this, the elder who appeared should have been from the Alchemy Hall or some other faction, not the Array Hall.

Had that been the case, when Liu Kuang chose to join the Array Hall, the elder who brought him in would inevitably feel slighted. That, in turn, would lead to hardship and adversity. Thus, such harmonious scenes never existed in Liu Pan’s original manuscript.

Hearing Liu Kuang address him differently, Elder Yang nodded in satisfaction before turning his gaze toward Xu Yangfeng, who lay not far away.

At that moment, Xu Yangfeng was sprawled on the ground, his arms pinned beneath the boots of two Cloudflow Sect martial artists, utterly incapable of resistance. Xu Yangfeng was still in shock; from the moment Liu Kuang broke free from his restraint and struck back, Xu Yangfeng realized he was finished.

He had considered suicide in the event of failure, but he never imagined he would be overpowered by the very person he thought he had subdued. The blow Liu Kuang delivered had come too swiftly and with such force that Xu Yangfeng had no chance to react before he was pinned down by the sect members.

Originally, Xu Yangfeng thought the worst he would face after capture was interrogation and eventual execution. But to his confusion, the sect’s focus was not on him but on the young man he had attacked. What terrified him most was hearing the words “spiritual power.”

Spiritual power?

Xu Yangfeng knew well that the human-skin mask he wore could fool some forms of spiritual sense but would likely fail to deceive a spiritual scan. If his mask was removed, the consequences would be dire.

At this thought, a strange light flickered in Xu Yangfeng’s eyes. Suddenly, he slammed his head against the hard ground—a dull thud—once, twice, three times.

Perhaps, for a martial artist, the greatest misery is not having one’s cultivation destroyed, but being unable to die when one wishes. Through continuous cultivation, a martial artist’s body grows ever tougher. Upon reaching a certain level, even without the aid of energy, their flesh could unleash tremendous power.

Just like Xu Yangfeng now. An ordinary person might shatter their skull with a single blow, but even after several attempts, Xu Yangfeng only managed to draw some blood, sustaining no serious injury.

His actions may have seemed odd to the onlookers, but to Xu Yangfeng, it was the right thing to do. The two Cloudflow Sect disciples restraining him were momentarily stunned, but one quickly reacted and stomped down hard on Xu Yangfeng’s head, pinning it firmly to the ground.

Elder Yang observed Xu Yangfeng’s actions without emotion. In a flat, impassive voice, he ordered, “Remove the mask from his face.”

The two sect members holding Xu Yangfeng hadn’t noticed any mask, but they trusted Elder Yang’s judgment. Without hesitation, one knelt and felt along Xu Yangfeng’s face.

After a moment, a mask of incredibly fine texture was peeled away, revealing Xu Yangfeng’s true face, now smeared with blood.

Elder Yang frowned slightly, then looked to Liu Kuang, his expression softening a little. “Do you know this man?”

Liu Kuang frowned in turn, bewildered. He had never seen Xu Yangfeng before; it would be truly bizarre if he did recognize him. After only a moment’s thought, Liu Kuang gave a clear answer: “I do not.”

“You don’t?” Elder Yang was taken aback, giving Liu Kuang a curious look. But when he saw the confusion in Liu Kuang’s eyes, he realized the young man was not lying.

But why, then—

In Elder Yang’s view, since Xu Yangfeng had attacked Liu Kuang, the two must have known each other. This was the Cloudflow Sect’s recruitment ground; if it wasn’t a personal grudge, then Xu Yangfeng was directly challenging the sect’s authority.

To openly oppose the sect here at its core? No power stronger than Cloudflow Sect would act so surreptitiously, and as for those weaker, Elder Yang could not imagine anyone bold enough to try.

Yet Liu Kuang’s unexpected answer left him with a sense of unease. Could it be that some force truly dared to challenge Cloudflow Sect?

Just as Elder Yang was about to approach Xu Yangfeng, a voice called out from nearby, “Elder Yang, this man is Xu Yangfeng, head of a second-tier family in Cloudflow City.”