Riley made his way back home to his modest courtyard, a sense of solitude enveloping him once more.
Despite belonging to a wealthy clan, his own status within it was dismal, leaving him bereft of the luxuries enjoyed by his peers.
In stark contrast to the opulence that surrounded him, Riley found himself lacking even the most basic comforts.
There were no young, beautiful maidservants attending to his needs, nor were there any elderly servants to offer him assistance.
As he navigated the quiet halls of his home, Riley couldn't help but feel the weight of his circumstances pressing down upon him.
Life, it seemed, had dealt him a cruel hand, leaving him to contend with the harsh realities of his station.
In a world where privilege and wealth reigned supreme, Riley was but a mere shadow, cast aside and forgotten amidst the glittering facade of his clan's prosperity.
For an entire week, Riley succumbed to the suffocating embrace of depression, his days consumed by a relentless cycle of sleep, food, and more sleep.
Each passing moment felt like an eternity, a ceaseless barrage of hurtful emotions that threatened to engulf him entirely.
It wasn't until the eighth day dawned that he finally roused himself from the depths of his despair.
"Damn it all! What am I doing crying here in self-pity?" Riley's voice echoed through the courtyard, his words tinged with frustration and determination.
With a sudden surge of resolve, he shook off the shackles of his despondency, his mind ablaze with newfound clarity.
"I possess the most powerful cheat in the world," he declared, his voice ringing with conviction. "I refuse to be shackled by the confines of this damned, ugly courtyard any longer!"
With renewed vigor, Riley propelled himself forward, his gaze fixed firmly on the horizon. Gone were the days of aimless despair; in their place stood a man determined to seize control of his own destiny.
With each step he took, he set his priorities straight, his path illuminated by the fire of ambition burning within him.
"Now what do I really want?" Riley pondered aloud, his thoughts swirling as he searched for clarity amidst the tumult of his desires.
In the next heartbeat, the answer came to him with startling clarity: he longed for a love that was genuine, a connection with a woman who would cherish him for who he truly was.
It was a yearning that had plagued him for as long as he could remember, a deep-seated frustration that gnawed at his soul.
But as Riley mulled over his desire for companionship, a darker thought crept into his mind.
"How do I attain such a love?" he mused aloud, his voice tinged with uncertainty.
The notion of kidnapping a fairy and forcing himself upon her crossed his mind, but he quickly dismissed it as folly, recognizing the depravity of such actions.
Instead, Riley turned his attention inward, contemplating his own shortcomings and insecurities. With a self-deprecating chuckle, he acknowledged his plain appearance and average demeanor, lamenting the seemingly insurmountable odds stacked against him in the pursuit of love.
But then, a spark of determination ignited within him, dispelling the shadows of doubt that threatened to engulf him.
"Right!" he exclaimed with newfound resolve.
"I'll become the strongest cultivator there is!"
With a bold declaration ringing in his ears, Riley envisioned a future where his prowess in the martial arts would command respect and admiration from all who crossed his path.
In that world of boundless power and limitless potential, he imagined women flocking to him, eager to share in the glory of his achievements.
With a hearty laugh that echoed through the courtyard, Riley embraced the vision of his future conquests, relishing the thought of the pleasures that awaited him.
And so, with a renewed sense of purpose, he rose to his feet and stepped out into the world, ready to embark on the journey that would lead him to fame, fortune, and the love he so desperately sought.
His steps echoed across the courtyard, leading him steadily toward the heart of the clan grounds, where the imposing structures of the clan treasury and cultivation pavilion loomed large against the backdrop of the sky.
As he approached, a guard stationed at the entrance of the pavilion intercepted him with a stern command.
"Halt! What business brings you here, you fucking trash? This sacred ground is not meant for the likes of you," the guard sneered, his tone dripping with contempt as he barred Riley's path with a firm stance.
Riley felt the familiar pang of indignation rise within him, but he suppressed it, knowing that losing his temper would only worsen his situation.
Suppressing the urge to retort, Riley remained composed, though a flicker of anger danced in his eyes.
"I come seeking access to the clan's collection of free cultivation manuals," he stated evenly, his voice betraying a hint of frustration.
It grated on him to be continually belittled and dismissed as insignificant, but he understood the importance of restraint.
After all, he harbored ambitions far greater than the narrow judgments of those who dared to call him trash.
The guard's lip curled in disdain, but he begrudgingly stepped aside, allowing Riley passage into the pavilion.
As he crossed the threshold, Riley couldn't help but feel a surge of determination coursing through him.
He was tired of being underestimated, tired of being treated as nothing more than a nuisance to be brushed aside.
"Hah! Don't make me laugh, trash! You have no talent in cultivation, or else I wouldn't be calling you trash in the first place! Hahaha!" The guard's mocking laughter rang out, echoing through the courtyard as he openly ridiculed Riley.
However, his amusement was short-lived as Riley's response caught him off guard.
"Well, I suppose I'll have to seek the assistance of the supreme elder for those resources since you seem intent on denying me entry," Riley remarked with a resigned sigh.
He turned to leave, but before he could take a single step, a strong hand gripped his shoulder, halting his movement.
"STOP! GO INSIDE!" the guard commanded, his voice tinged with fear as he forcefully pushed Riley toward the entrance of the cultivation pavilion.
It was clear that the guard was apprehensive about facing the wrath of the supreme elder, known for his unwavering commitment to justice within the clan.
The very mention of the elder's name seemed to strike fear into the guard's heart, for he knew all too well the consequences of defying the elder's principles.
"Very well," Riley acquiesced, his expression unreadable as he complied with the guard's directive. With a nod of acknowledgment, he stepped forward and entered the weathered pavilion, his anticipation building with each passing moment.