Chapter Twelve: Secrets

Lin Fan emerged from the dust, his piercing gaze sending chills through those who met it. Blood still flowed from the wounds on his shoulder and back, lending him an even more formidable and tragic air.

"You, you..." Feng Wanchun stammered in terror. He sensed a familiar aura emanating from Lin Fan—an aura of invincibility.

"This aura? It seems you've already comprehended the Dao at this level," the middle-aged man observed, his composure unshaken even in the face of calamity, as if nothing in the world could disturb his tranquility.

"What!" Despair washed over Feng Wanchun. The Dao was a realm that only those at the Condensing Veins stage could touch. If someone at the physical cultivation level could comprehend the Dao, it meant he was fated to step into the Condensing Veins stage.

"I never expected someone so insignificant to possess such potential. Heaven wishes to destroy me!" Feng Wanchun roared, unable to accept the dramatic turn of events.

"Feng Wanchun, today you are doomed to die without burial. All who stand against me are fated to fall," Lin Fan declared coldly, killing intent radiating from him.

Had he not just grasped the final form of the Seven Star Fist, he likely would have been mercilessly slain moments before. How could Lin Fan restrain his murderous fury? To simply not tear Feng Wanchun to pieces was already a great mercy.

Lin Fan turned to the middle-aged man and spoke, "Compared to Feng Wanchun, I am more curious about your identity. A man of such strength could never be a nameless figure. Yet I wonder, why do you serve under Li Renfu?"

Li Renfu was Li Hua’s grandfather, the steward of Yunzhu Peak—Old Master Li.

"There’s little point in speaking further, but before someone like you, I ought to reveal my identity. That is respect for both of us," the middle-aged man replied slowly. He had already accepted his fate. In the face of Lin Fan, who had grasped the Dao, the strength of someone at the eighth level of physical cultivation was hardly worth mentioning, and in his heart he had already resolved to die.

"I am Yuan Jiankong," he stated, his voice calm and unwavering.

Lin Fan had no recollection of this name, but Feng Wanchun was utterly shocked.

"You—you are Yuan Jiankong, the Seven Fiend Sword from thirty years ago? Third among the outer sect disciples!"

Feng Wanchun, with a far deeper background than Lin Fan, was knowledgeable about many powerful figures. Lin Fan, too, was inwardly startled. To be ranked third among the outer disciples was an extraordinary feat—his strength should be at the eighth level of physical cultivation or even beyond. Yet, curiously, after thirty years, Yuan Jiankong’s power seemed to have not only stagnated but even declined.

"A hollow reputation. I should have died long ago," Yuan Jiankong said expressionlessly, as lifeless as stagnant water.

"I never expected you to have such a history. But Li Renfu is only the steward of Yunzhu Peak. Why would you submit to him? Is there a hidden story here?" Lin Fan questioned with a frown.

Yuan Jiankong shook his head, unwilling to speak further. At that moment, black mist began to rise from his body, filling the air with a foul stench.

"This..." Lin Fan was puzzled, but quickly understood.

Yuan Jiankong’s face turned deathly pale as he coughed up blood, then collapsed to the ground. He had chosen to end his life by his own hand, bringing his story to a close.

"He actually took his own life. Yuan Jiankong was truly a man of character," Lin Fan said respectfully. To choose death by one’s own will required an extraordinary mind. This alone proved he was worthy of being the third outer sect disciple of his time. By comparison, Feng Wanchun fell far short.

"And now, what do you propose?" Lin Fan turned to Feng Wanchun, his eyes narrowing, his right hand itching to strike.

"Enemies should resolve their enmity, not deepen it. I am one of the current top ten outer disciples, a person of high status within the sect. Should I fall, someone would surely discover it, and if the sect investigates, you won’t escape unscathed," Feng Wanchun said, nervous but trying to maintain composure.

"The conflict between you and Junior Brother Cheng is but a minor quarrel. With my mediation, I’m certain you two could resolve your differences peacefully. Everything can be negotiated," he continued, his words flowing smoothly like honey. Feng Wanchun’s logic was sound—Cheng’s family was a powerful force. If Lin Fan were wise, he would make the right choice.

"Hmph, as long as I can buy a little time, that’s enough. Once I return to Tiandu Sect, it will be your doom. A mere menial isn’t worth much, but that wretch Yun Xi dared save you," he thought. Though his words sounded sincere, Feng Wanchun’s mind was full of sinister schemes, his eyes flickering with a hidden murderous gleam.

"What you say is reasonable. The Cheng family is influential, filled with powerful figures. I admit I am at fault as well, and if this grudge could be settled, that would be best," Lin Fan replied, noticing the malice flicker in Feng Wanchun’s eyes but choosing not to expose him yet.

"From what I know, the Cheng family has many elite disciples, including a prominent figure, and even more elders. I am indeed as powerless as an insect before a chariot. But tell me, why does the Cheng family fixate on me so?" Lin Fan continued, hoping to uncover the reason the Cheng family had been so intent on killing him.

"To catch a wolf, one must risk the lamb. If I want to live, I’ll have to reveal some secrets," Feng Wanchun mused. Revealing a bit of inside information was no great matter—in Tiandu Sect, such things were almost an open secret. Compared to his own life, those secrets meant little.

"The Cheng family holds unparalleled influence in Tiandu Sect, and they are loyal followers of this generation’s Divine Son. Yun Xi, on the other hand, has recently won the favor of a great figure within the sect and is about to be granted the title of Divine Maiden. This is, in fact, a contest for the next sect master’s position," Feng Wanchun explained. How much of it was true or mere diversion was hard to say.

"Yun Xi is by nature indifferent and did not wish to be involved, but the currents of fate have swept her in. The Divine Son wants to strike first. You offended the Cheng family, then were saved by Yun Xi, and so you stand at the center of this storm—even serving as the spark. It won’t be long before the Divine Son acts against Yun Xi. This is a clash between two great powers. You and I are but pawns. That’s all I know," Feng Wanchun said, his sincerity seeming to invite Lin Fan’s trust—his depth of cunning evident.

"I see," Lin Fan nodded, an epiphany dawning on him. While he could not be sure how much of Feng Wanchun’s tale was true, it likely wasn’t far from reality. He simply had not imagined his own fate was so entangled in greater affairs.

"Brother Lin, I was reckless this time. I only hope you will be merciful. I shall never stand against you again," Feng Wanchun said, his wounds already beginning to heal. As long as Lin Fan let him go, he would immediately return to Tiandu Sect, where he had countless ways to deal with Lin Fan.

"Very well. Cultivators must keep their word. Mercy will be shown," Lin Fan nodded, his expression unchanged, as if he truly intended to let Feng Wanchun go. Yet, deep within his eyes, a terrifying killing intent was hidden...