"Li Qinghong is back at thirtieth place?"

Upon hearing the news, Fang Han’s expression remained unchanged. Not a single ripple of emotion stirred in his eyes as he gave a soft hum of acknowledgment.

It was as if he had heard nothing more than a trivial piece of news.

Compared to his last test, his cultivation had now advanced from the Middle Stage of Sixth Grade to the Late Stage of Sixth Grade. His mastery of the Wind Shadow Annihilation Sword had gone from Great Success to Perfection, and the amount of Wind Momentum he could channel had increased from twenty to thirty percent.

His power had undergone a world-shaking transformation.

Reclaiming a spot in the top thirty? To him, it was child’s play.

In fact, his ambitions had long since soared past a mere thirtieth place!

Seeing Fang Han so composed, Qiu Lan was taken aback. Her anxiety subsided slightly, but she still asked with trepidation.

"Senior Brother, aren’t... aren’t you worried? There are only three days left..."

"It’s fine."

Fang Han cut her off, his tone level but filled with a reassuring certainty.

"I’ll go and be back in a moment."

With that, he said no more. He picked up the Flowing Wind Sword from the stone table, hung it from his waist, and strode out with a steady gait.

Qiu Lan stared blankly at Fang Han’s departing back, a sense of calm inexplicably settling over her.

’Perhaps... Senior Brother really is confident?’

...

Fang Han left his villa, heading toward the plaza of the Overall Martial Arts Stele.

His gait was unhurried, yet his pace was swift. His cyan-robed figure moved quickly along the bluestone path.

After the news spread that Li Qinghong had reclaimed thirtieth place and Fang Han’s rank had fallen, countless eyes had been fixed on the movements of Villa Thirty-Five in the True Inheritance Courtyard.

Now, seeing Fang Han emerge and head straight for the Overall Martial Arts Stele, a commotion instantly erupted.

"Look! It’s Senior Brother Fang!"

"Is he going to take the test?"

"Let’s go! To the plaza!"

Figures shot out from various courtyards, converging on the massive White Jade Plaza from all directions.

Among them were a number of Stewards with profound auras, and even the faint figures of a few Elders could be spotted.

Changes in the True Disciple rankings—especially at a sensitive moment when someone might lose their status as a True Inheritor—always attracted a great deal of attention.

Within the crowd, one figure moved with extreme speed, his face grim. It was Li Qinghong.

He had just finished his own test and was on his way back when he heard that Fang Han was heading to the Martial Arts Stele. He immediately turned around. He wanted to watch Fang Han’s test with his own eyes and see if he could be surpassed once again.

The moment Fang Han stepped into the plaza, the bustling square fell quiet.

Countless gazes locked onto him, filled with curiosity, anticipation, and scrutiny.

In the center of the plaza, a disciple who was about to take the test saw Fang Han approaching and quickly stopped, stepping aside respectfully.

"Senior Brother Fang, please, after you."

"Thank you."

Fang Han gave a slight nod. He didn’t decline the offer and strode forward to stand before the massive Overall Martial Arts Stele.

His calm gaze swept over his name on the stele’s surface, then to the glaring number "thirty-one" beside it. His eyes were as tranquil as an ancient well.

He slowly closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and then snapped them open!

SHING!

The Flowing Wind Sword sang as it left its scabbard, its dark cyan blade glinting with a subdued light under the sun.

The vast, pure, almost ink-cyan Inner Qi of the Late Stage of Sixth Grade surged like a bursting dam, flooding into the blade.

The intent of the Wind Shadow Annihilation Sword, now at the Perfection Level, erupted forth naturally!

Thirty percent of his Wind Momentum was activated. The surrounding air currents, as if summoned by an unseen king, frantically converged and compressed around the blade.

The Flowing Wind Sword let out a low, melodic hum, and the very space around the blade seemed to warp slightly.

SWISH—BOOM!!

Without any complex Sword Techniques, Fang Han flicked his wrist. The Flowing Wind Sword transformed into a thin, pale cyan line, condensed to the absolute limit and seemingly capable of tearing through the void itself. At a speed beyond the limits of the naked eye, it lanced toward the stele!

The instant the sword’s tip touched the stele, the highly condensed Wind Momentum and immense Inner Qi erupted.

A sharp screech was followed by a deafening boom, like thunder rolling from the heavens!

The Overall Martial Arts Stele erupted in a brilliant flash, momentarily illuminating the entire plaza. Its surface trembled violently as ripple-like waves of energy spread out like a frantic tide.

The entire monument let out a deep, sonorous hum, far louder than the stir caused by Li Qinghong’s test.

Fang Han’s name suddenly lit up, and the number representing his rank began to jump frantically.

Thirty-one... twenty-five... twenty... eighteen... seventeen... sixteen...

The number jumped at a dizzying speed, instantly breaking past the top twenty mark with no signs of slowing.

Finally, under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the number abruptly stopped—Sixteenth!

The light faded, and the Martial Arts Stele returned to its tranquil state.

Fang Han’s name now stood proudly at the "Sixteenth" position on the overall list.

Once again, he had pushed Li Qinghong, who had just reclaimed the thirtieth spot, out of the top thirty!

Everyone stared intently at the newly updated ranking on the stele, their faces etched with utter shock.

After a moment of dead silence, the crowd erupted. Gasps of shock, sharp intakes of breath, and fervent discussions mingled into a roar that threatened to blow the roof off the plaza.

"S-Sixteenth?! He jumped straight from thirty-first to sixteenth?!"

"He jumped a full fifteen places in one go?!"

"My god! Senior Brother Fang’s strength... has actually reached this level?"

"He didn’t just reclaim a spot in the top thirty, he charged straight into sixteenth place!"

"Sixteenth on the overall list after just over a year in the Sect... that rate of progress is simply insane!"

Countless gazes once again focused on Fang Han, who stood calmly, having sheathed his sword. They were filled with shock, awe, and even a trace of bewilderment.

’Sixteenth place!’

Fang Han slowly sheathed his sword, seemingly deaf to the uproar behind him.

He looked up, glancing at the "Sixteenth" next to his name, then at the "Ninth" next to Chu Feng’s name.

Unwittingly, he was now only a few ranks away from Chu Feng.

’Next month, I’ll aim to crush Chu Feng underfoot.’

He turned, parted the still-shocked crowd, and strode away with a steady gait.

He didn’t spare a single glance for Li Qinghong, who stood somewhere in the crowd, his face ashen and his body trembling slightly. Of course, even if he had noticed, he wouldn’t have deigned to care.

"Sixteenth... Sixteenth..."

Li Qinghong stared at the glaring "Sixteenth" on the stele, and then at his own name, pushed down to "Thirty-first" once again.

An indescribable wave of humiliation, frustration, and a sliver of despair—one he refused to even acknowledge—instantly overwhelmed him.

His face went from pale to flushed, and his chest heaved violently.

He spun around abruptly, stumbled through the crowd, and fled the plaza in utter disgrace.

The gap between him and Fang Han hadn’t shrunk; it had widened. It had become so vast that he could barely even muster the will to try and catch up.

Fang Han had not only effortlessly secured his position as a True Inheritor but had also left him in the dust with a display of overwhelming power.

All his previous efforts, expectations, and pride now felt like one colossal joke.

Among the onlookers, some disciples noticed Li Qinghong’s disgraceful exit and let out quiet sneers.

A few Stewards and Elders, watching from a distance, exchanged a glance tinged with pity.

Li Qinghong’s Talent was decent, but unfortunately for him, he had run into Fang Han, whose Talent was far more terrifying.

The moment he showed signs of reclaiming his True Inheritor position, he was immediately crushed by Fang Han.

...

「In the study of Chu Feng’s Villa, True Inheritance Courtyard」

The gentle smoke of sandalwood curled through the air, but it couldn’t dispel the oppressive, frustrated atmosphere.

Chu Feng sat in a Grandmaster’s Chair made of purple sandalwood, his fingertips unconsciously tapping a dull rhythm on the smooth armrest. TAP. TAP.

He gazed out the window, his eyes dark and profound, his brow clouded with an unshakable gloom.

The forces under his command had been repeatedly plundered by the mysterious "Thousand Hands Thief," causing him to suffer heavy losses and a complete loss of face.

The Tracking expert "Ghost Eye" Luo Yan, hired at great expense, and his trusted confidant Song Xiang had both been found dead in the wilderness, leaving the trail completely cold.

With all his affairs outside the Sect going poorly, a volatile frustration festered in his chest, seeking an outlet.

CREAK—

The study door was pushed open, and a figure hurried inside, his face a mask of unconcealed panic and urgency. It was his cousin, Chu Chong.

"Cousin!"

Chu Chong rushed to the desk, his voice strained with haste.

"Fang Han... Fang Han went to test at the Overall Martial Arts Stele!"

Chu Feng’s tapping fingers froze. He slowly turned his head, his gaze like two ice picks boring into Chu Chong.

His expression darkened, and his voice took on a barely perceptible chill.

"He went to test? What were the results? Is he back in the top thirty?"

’The only reason Li Qinghong managed to reclaim thirtieth so quickly was thanks to me pulling strings and using my resources.’

’The goal, of course, was to knock Fang Han out of the True Inheritor ranks and strip him of the protection that status afforded.’

However, what Chu Chong said next made his expression darken even further.

"Fang Han... he did get back into the top thirty. Not only that, he shot straight to sixteenth place!"

Chu Chong swallowed, the shock still lingering on his face.

"He didn’t just get back into the top thirty, he rose to sixteenth?"

Chu Feng shot up from his Grandmaster’s Chair, his chest heaving.

A flicker of shock flashed through his eyes, only to be replaced by a deeper sense of dread and vexation.

’Jumping fifteen spots at once, from thirty-first to sixteenth?’

’Even after becoming a True Inheritor, Fang Han is still improving this quickly!’

’Outside the Sect, that Thousand Hands Thief is like a persistent maggot, constantly making trouble for me and driving me to distraction.’

’Inside the Sect, Fang Han is rising at an alarming rate, his power now nipping at my heels. He’s already become a grave threat.’

’Beset by troubles both internal and external... It feels like absolutely nothing has been going my way lately!’

A potent sense of crisis gnawed at him like a venomous snake.

"Cousin, there’s one more thing..."

Chu Chong carefully observed his cousin’s expression. Seeing how terrible Chu Feng looked, he felt a surge of anxiety.

But as he thought of something else, a flicker of joy, nearly imperceptible, flashed in his eyes as he hurriedly continued.

"About the affairs that Senior Brother Song Xiang used to handle... I was wondering what your arrangements are, Cousin. Do you need me to take care of them for you?"

His voice held a hint of probing and sycophancy.

Chu Chong had long been resentful that Song Xiang, an "outsider," had become Chu Feng’s confidant and managed so many lucrative affairs. Now that Song Xiang was dead, he naturally wanted to seize the opportunity to take his place.