Just as Tang Yan was groaning in misery, the surge of Spiritual Qi that welled up proved far gentler than he had feared. Warm and soft, it ran ahead of the fierce True Qi that had come before.

The Spiritual Qi drawn out of the Pill Cauldron left a cool, soothing trail wherever it passed, mending his ruined channels. It needed no guidance at all, turning on its own to begin a second full circuit.

Damn, this felt good!

But before Tang Yan could even catch his breath, the surging True Qi came crowding in behind it. The Meridians that had just been mended were torn open all over again by that savage flow.

Tang Yan's brows knotted tight, and he nearly cried out. He cursed the Pill Cauldron without pause for tormenting him, even as he braced himself against the agony of his channels being forced wide until they split.

When yet another circuit finished, Tang Yan felt as though he had been dragged through a cauldron of boiling oil.

This torture of ice and fire by turns left him caught between living and dying. Luckily, the Tang Yan of today was no longer that pampered wastrel of before, but a true ninth-grade Alchemist who had weathered countless trials in his life. An ordinary man would likely have fainted from the pain long ago.

Circuit after circuit, his Meridians cycled endlessly through injury and repair, until even the unbearable pain no longer seemed quite so cruel. He lost track of time as his focus sharpened, every thought sinking fully into the cultivation.

When Tang Yan opened his eyes again, sunlight was already spilling through the window.

A sharp light flickered deep in his gaze and vanished. Feeling the channels in his body now several times stronger, his expression turned remarkable.

Origin Rank... seventh grade!

In a single night, from third grade to seventh grade. A full leap of four grades! If word of this got out, would people lock him up like some monster?

In all of Tingxiang Kingdom, it seemed no such prodigy had ever appeared. Forget four grades in a row, even two advances back to back would already mark someone as a cultivation marvel.

Truly, fortune was fickle, and out of misfortune blessing could rise. He had braced for Qi Deviation, even for his body to burst and end him. Instead he was not only unharmed but had gained this much in one night.

The brief thrill passed, and Tang Yan settled. The Tang Family was beset on every side in Yun City, and apart from Grandfather and Uncle Mo, the middle generation had been hollowed out. His own footing was perilous too. Origin Rank seventh grade was still far too weak.

He pushed open the door and stepped outside.

The early autumn morning already carried a touch of chill.

After walking for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea, he caught the rhythm of shouted exertions. Something stirred in him, and he quickened his pace, soon arriving before a courtyard. The plaque above bore three large characters: "Martial Practice Ground."

This was where the Tang Family disciples trained day to day.

He pushed the gate open and went in, only to find the Tang Family had no small number of martial practitioners here, a hundred or so. Some sparred across the grounds, others drilled their techniques alone.

Tang Yan knew the young man at their head. It was Uncle Mo's eldest grandson, Mo Yanjun.

Mo Yanjun was twenty-three this year, already at Yellow Rank second grade. Among Yun City's younger generation his strength stood near the front, and in the Tang Family he held the post of captain of the guard.

Tang Yan's snow-white robe was hard to miss. The moment he stepped onto the grounds, it caught Mo Yanjun's eye.

What was this wastrel doing here? The last time the brat had set foot on the practice grounds was, what, four years ago?

Following Mo Yanjun's gaze, the others spotted Tang Yan as well, and disdain surfaced in their eyes one after another. This was a world that revered martial strength. Tang Yan might be the Tang Family's eldest young master, but his wastrel name was a stain on the clan, and these men, who prized strength above all, naturally gave him no regard.

Tang Yan took in every one of those looks. The corner of his mouth curved up, untroubled. Hands clasped behind his back, he strolled an unhurried circle around the grounds.

As if to cow him, the men already training threw sudden force into their movements, and the air grew fiercer still.

Only after Tang Yan had finished his circle did Mo Yanjun feign just noticing the young master and hurry forward. "Eldest Young Master, you've come. I was occupied just now and didn't notice."

"It's nothing. I'm only here to look around." Tang Yan waved it off.

"Eldest Young Master, what do you make of our guards? How does their training look to you?"

Mo Yanjun asked it for courtesy's sake, and the others, hearing it, laughed to themselves. What the hell would this wastrel know?

Just as everyone braced to hear the young master heap on praise, an exaggerated cry of shock rang out. "What? You lot were training just now?"

Mo Yanjun, who had also been waiting on the flattery, blanked at the words, then snorted coldly. "Oh? Does the eldest young master think we were all playing games?"

"What, you weren't playing games?" Tang Yan exclaimed again.

The guards, who had pricked up their ears for the young master's words, let their faces fall.

"Hmph. A wastrel is a wastrel after all. Without guards like us, how would the Tang Family hold sway over the region and stand among Yun City's four great families? If the eldest young master cannot respect us, then kindly never set foot on the Martial Practice Ground again." Mo Yanjun's tone left no courtesy.

"Get off the practice grounds!"

"Get off the practice grounds!"

"Get off the practice grounds..."

The guards roared it below.

"Enough! You pack of cowards!" Tang Yan bellowed, and the bearing of an Alchemy Emperor erupted from him all at once. Mo Yanjun's heart lurched, and the whole field went still under that single shout.

"Mo Yanjun, you're captain of these grounds. I walked in dressed in white, blinding to the eye, circled every one of you once, and only then did you see me? Is this the watchfulness a Tang Family guard should have? If a man with ill intent had walked in instead and looked over every secret of my Tang Family, what then?" Tang Yan leveled a finger at him and pressed the question home.

Mo Yanjun found himself with nothing to say. The brat's words were sound, point for point. He had pretended not to see him on purpose, and never imagined the boy would catch him out by it.

Tang Yan rummaged in his robes, drew out a token, and raised it high.

"By my command, form ranks!"

The furious shout tore from his mouth. The whole company froze for a beat. What was the brat trying to do? Mo Yanjun, nearest of all, was the first to make out the token clearly. It was the Tang Family's core token of authority!

That token could stand for the Tang Family's own orders. He truly had not expected old Master Tang to hand it to this brat.

"What are you gaping at? Form ranks!" Look down on the wastrel as he might, Mo Yanjun's loyalty to the Tang Family ran deep.

At their captain's order, every guard fell into formation at once, neat and even, heads high and chests out. Yet the way they eyed Tang Yan brimmed with scorn. So, he meant to lean on his young master's name to humiliate them?

Tang Yan stepped forward twice and pointed at the lot of them. "You're nothing but cowards, bullies in your own den, brave only against me, a man with no cultivation. Why have I never heard you shouting for the Liu Family to get out of Yun City?"

"You aren't just cowards. You're trash."

At his arrogant words the guards' eyes went red, all but spitting fire, their breathing heavy and rough. If not for us guarding the Tang Family day and night, could a wastrel like you sleep soundly every day?

"And if one day the four great families of Yun City came to war, every last one of you here would be fit for nothing but a quick death!" Tang Yan's words cut sharper with each line, until at last someone could bear it no longer and stepped out.

"Eldest Young Master, what gives you the right to call us trash?" A burly, dark-faced man stepped forward, meeting Tang Yan's gaze, his eyes full of defiance.