Inside Long Chen's dantian, a raging flame surged wildly, enclosed within the translucent membrane of a light sphere.

This was a crucial turning point in his cultivation journey—perhaps the most important moment of his life thus far.

"Cultivators are like pills," Su Wenqing suddenly said, her voice slicing through the tension in the air. The disciples of the Hidden Dragon Sect, who had been quietly observing Long Chen's tribulation, turned their attention to her in surprise. One of them was about to interject, but Xu Mo raised his hand slightly, signaling for silence.

"That's what I believe after watching Long Chen form his core," Su Wenqing continued, her voice calm but firm. "And now, a thunderstrike is suspended above his head—like a sword hanging by a thread, ready to fall."

Xu Mo nodded slowly before addressing the crowd. "Everyone is free to form their own opinions, whether alone or in groups. If you believe your thoughts have merit, I urge you—do not keep them to yourself. Speak freely. Let us hear your understanding."

His words were not just encouragement. They were aimed at breaking the wall of arrogance many senior inner sect disciples had built around themselves. He wanted to foster discussion, to make the older disciples realize that cultivation was not monopolized by experience or rank.

"Open discussion breeds growth," Xu Mo added. "But let it remain respectful. Listen first—truly listen. Only after someone has finished speaking should others offer their own thoughts. And for once, at least for a few hours, treat one another as equals."

With that, he lifted his hand and gently gestured towards Su Wenqing, inviting her to continue.

Su Wenqing smiled faintly, grateful that someone familiar still supported her. She took a deep breath and resumed, "What I meant earlier is this—I'm an alchemist by profession. Many of you know that we, as alchemists, forge pills that challenge the very principles of heaven and earth. Our resolve is tested, and the thunder tribulation is that divine trial."

She paused, letting her words sink in.

"Some people resent the heavens, the cosmos—or whatever name they choose to give it. But I see it differently. After living in this world for twenty years, I can say this with confidence: we are mistaken. To harbor resentment towards something that has granted us the qualification to even question it—isn't that ingratitude? Why do we ignore the blessings that follow? The pure Qi bestowed after one survives the tribulation—it's a gift."

Boom!!

A deafening thunderclap resounded as a streak of light-purple lightning descended from the sky, slamming into Long Chen's body. The ground trembled. The air vibrated. Goosebumps prickled on the arms of those nearby, and a chill danced down their spines.

Yet despite the ominous display, the Hidden Dragon Sect disciples continued their discussion.

"Miss Xue, will you not offer your thoughts?" Xu Mo asked politely. His tone was unusually formal, far more reserved than what he typically used with her. But she was no longer the same person he once considered merely an acquaintance.

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"Xue Lingxi."

"…What?"

"Call me Xue Lingxi. I permit you," she replied calmly, her tone distant and authoritative.

Xu Mo couldn't help but think to himself, Even your way of speaking has changed. It's like I'm deciphering an ancient scroll or reading a royal decree.

"…Xue Lingxi," he said, hesitating. "Will you not share your thoughts?"

He took a small step back, instinctively increasing the distance between them. A strange fear crept into him—not the fear of Long Chen's power, but of her. Xue Lingxi was unreadable, unpredictable. Xu Mo couldn't gauge the depths of her cultivation or the number of cards she had hidden up her sleeve.

Boom!!

"Aaaahh!!"

Long Chen screamed in agony as another bolt of thunder crashed into him. But Xu Mo and Xue Lingxi were locked in a silent battle of their own—one of observation and unspoken calculation.

Xu Mo had a reason for asking her opinion. She was no ordinary disciple. A reincarnated cultivator from a previous life, she had reached unfathomable heights. Her insights could easily surpass those of any elder or even the Sect Master of Verdant Sky Hall.

"It's better if I remain silent," Xue Lingxi finally said in a soft voice. "Knowing too much while being this weak is the same as courting death."

She tried to sound humble, but Xu Mo nearly broke character. He barely kept his composed expression, resisting the urge to react too openly. In truth, he often saw himself as an actor—his behavior shifting depending on the situation: different with his parents, with close friends, with acquaintances, and with strangers. He had many faces.

"…Oh." It was all he could manage in response.

Boom!!

Strike after strike rained down from the heavens. The disciples of other sects turned away, unable to bear watching the torment any longer. Some even closed their eyes. Yet the Hidden Dragon Sect disciples didn't flinch. They stood still—as if Long Chen wasn't even one of their own.

It was telling. Most of them hadn't known him well, and those who did often spread harmful rumors, tarnishing his reputation. The sect had even publicly declared Long Chen dead months ago. To many of them, his survival or death meant little.

But they didn't understand—if Long Chen emerged alive from this tribulation, everything would change. A nineteen-year-old Golden Core cultivator? The Verdant Sky Hall would recruit him immediately. The offer they'd make would be too tempting for any rival faction to counter.

However, that would make Long Chen a target. In this world, being too outstanding could be just as dangerous as being too weak.

The Verdant Sky Hall, after all, had ruled their domain unchallenged for ten thousand years. With no real competition, they had grown corrupt and complacent. Their current ideology was clear: if someone couldn't be controlled, it was better that they ceased to exist.

BOOM!!!

This final thunderstrike was the loudest yet. A blinding light erupted across the sky, its dark purple edges framing a brilliant white core. For a split second, the world was consumed by that light—sound, sight, and even thought seemed to disappear.

Agh—!

Xu Mo staggered. A sharp pain pierced his back. Blood trickled from his mouth.

Agh—!

The same object that stabbed him was suddenly yanked out, tearing muscle and flesh. Sweat poured down his face as his body wavered mid-air. He had already consumed too much Qi maintaining flight, keeping the Foundation Building disciples afloat to prevent others from accusing the sect of favoritism.

Who had done this?

Everyone here was from the same sect. Why would someone target him?

Could it be someone from another sect?

It was possible.

Jin Meiyu immediately stepped forward to help, but Xu Mo raised a trembling hand to stop her. He didn't want to appear weak or dependent. Slowly, he descended to the ground.

He didn't even dare look back at the attacker. But as his feet touched solid earth, his gaze fell upon someone surrounded by sect disciples.

He could see Wei Rong standing in the center of the crowd, a conflicted expression plastered across his face. He was taller than most, making him easy to spot.

Xu Mo narrowed his eyes.

Was it… Wei Rong?

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