"Your Highness the Eighth Prince, your talent is truly astonishing. With dedicated practice, you have the potential to reach the level of a first-tier artifact craftsman within five years," Zorn praised.
The Eighth Prince's face filled with pride.
Zhang Ruochen and Shan Xiangling walked over.
"Greetings, Master Zorn. I am Shan Xiangling from the Fire Cloud Sect. This is a letter from my father," Shan Xiangling said as she handed him the letter.
Zorn opened it and, after reading its contents, assessed Shan Xiangling. "Your father mentioned in the letter that your spiritual power has reached the sixteenth tier?"
Shan Xiangling nodded. "That's correct!"
Zorn folded the letter again. "Your father, the sect master of Fire Cloud Sect, and I are old acquaintances. Given your talent, I'll accept you as my disciple. From today onwards, you'll be my nineteenth disciple."
Shan Xiangling was overjoyed and quickly bowed. "Student pays respects to Master!"
"Wonderful! Junior Sister, I am also Master Zorn's disciple now. We can train together, refining our spiritual power, and learn inscription and crafting techniques!" The Eighth Prince exclaimed excitedly.
Shan Xiangling ignored him completely and instead turned to Zhang Ruochen, introducing him to Zorn. "Master, this is the Ninth Prince of Yunwu Commandery. He seeks your guidance on inscription techniques."
Zorn glanced at Zhang Ruochen. "I have two conditions for accepting disciples: if you're over twenty or if your spiritual power hasn't reached the twelfth tier, I won't take you. If you don't meet these criteria, even as a prince, you are not qualified to be my disciple."
The Eighth Prince smirked mockingly. In his view, Zhang Ruochen might possess high martial talent, but when it came to spiritual power, he doubted he could surpass him.
Zhang Ruochen looked at Zorn calmly and said, "I think you've misunderstood. I'm not here to become your disciple; I simply wish to learn more about inscription techniques."
Zorn was accustomed to others showing him deference. Zhang Ruochen's upright stance and equal tone clearly displeased him.
It wasn't that Zhang Ruochen was arrogant; he simply aimed for a conversation on equal footing. In terms of spiritual power cultivation, Zhang Ruochen surpassed Zorn by a significant margin and saw no reason to look up to him.
Zorn snorted coldly. "How ambitious! To inscribe runes, you must first cultivate spiritual power. The higher your spiritual power, the greater your success rate in inscribing. If your spiritual power hasn't reached the fifteenth tier, you won't be able to inscribe runes."
"Young man, has your spiritual power reached the fifteenth tier?"
Zhang Ruochen replied, "Are you saying that if my spiritual power reaches the fifteenth tier, you'll teach me inscription techniques?"
"Heh! If your spiritual power reaches the fifteenth tier, you'd barely qualify as my disciple. To have a conversation as equals, your spiritual power must be at least at the twentieth tier," Zorn responded arrogantly.
Spiritual power at the twentieth tier generally qualified one as a second-tier artifact craftsman.
After reaching the fifteenth tier, each level increase became increasingly difficult, making it nearly impossible to reach the twentieth tier. If it were easy, second-tier craftsmen wouldn't be so rare; even the entire Fire Cloud Sect hadn't recruited one.
"Twentieth tier, you say? Let me try."
Zhang Ruochen set his sights on the nearby spirit-testing stone and walked over, placing his palm gently on its surface.
"Twentieth tier? He's never trained his spiritual power before; how could he possibly reach the twentieth tier?" The Eighth Prince's lips curled into a mocking smile.
Zorn remarked, "Such arrogance! Even for a genius, it's impossible to cultivate spiritual power to the twentieth tier before the age of twenty."
Shan Xiangling looked intrigued. She believed Zhang Ruochen wouldn't make such a bold claim without confidence.
Could his spiritual power really be that extraordinary?
Zhang Ruochen closed his eyes and focused, channeling his spiritual power into the spirit-testing stone.
"Whoosh—"
The surface of the spirit-testing stone lit up with concentric rings.
One ring, two rings, three rings…
Each ring represented one tier of spiritual power.
When the stone displayed twenty rings, Zorn was dumbfounded, his jaw practically dropping as he stared at Zhang Ruochen in disbelief.
"Impossible, impossible…" The Eighth Prince's face turned ashen, and he kept muttering to himself, unable to believe what he was seeing.
Shan Xiangling was equally stunned. Her eyes shimmered as she gazed at Zhang Ruochen.
When the stone reached twenty rings, Zhang Ruochen stopped releasing his spiritual power and withdrew his hand.
Zorn could tell that Zhang Ruochen had held back; his true spiritual power likely exceeded the twentieth tier.
Zorn's demeanor completely changed. He hurried over with a smile. "I had no idea the Ninth Prince was such a spiritual power prodigy. I apologize for my earlier rudeness and hope you won't take offense."
At only sixteen years of age, Zhang Ruochen's spiritual power surpassed the twentieth tier. Such potential was beyond comprehension. Given Zhang Ruochen's future promise, Zorn knew he might need his guidance one day. Thus, he quickly changed his attitude to ingratiate himself.
Zhang Ruochen replied, "I only wish to seek guidance on inscription techniques and methods."
"Of course! Ninth Prince, please come with me. We'll find a quiet place to discuss spiritual power and inscription techniques." Zorn's smile was warm and welcoming.
Zhang Ruochen nodded and followed Zorn into one of the guild's halls. Shan Xiangling followed closely behind.
...
Outside the Inscription Guild, the Eighth Prince's face was dark with anger.
"It's outrageous! That waste, Zhang Ruochen—there was a time when he wouldn't dare retaliate if I slapped him. Now, he dares surpass me? How could his talent be so extraordinary? How could this be?"
He gritted his teeth in frustration. As he glanced at the antelope-drawn carriage parked outside the guild, an idea formed.
It was Zhang Ruochen's carriage!
Yun'er sat quietly in the driver's seat, waiting for Zhang Ruochen while occasionally glancing in the guild's direction.
Seeing the Eighth Prince approach, fear flickered across Yun'er's face as she bowed. "Greetings, Eighth Prince!"
With a cold expression, the Eighth Prince ordered, "I need to return to the palace. Drive me there."
Fear spread across Yun'er's face. "But… but this is the Ninth Prince's carriage…"
"Slap!"
The Eighth Prince struck her hard, sending her flying three meters away.
Yun'er's face swelled up, and a handprint immediately appeared, accompanied by a steady stream of blood from her mouth. Her head felt dizzy, her jaw dislocated, and she felt as if she was dying.
The Eighth Prince stomped on her, his face twisted with anger. "The Ninth Prince is a prince, but am I not also a prince? You're just a servant, and you dare defy my orders? I could have your parents fed to beasts and make you the lowest of prostitutes with a single command. Hmph!"
He turned away and boarded the carriage, shouting, "Drive! Offend me again, and you'll wish you were dead."
Trembling with fear, Yun'er struggled to her feet despite the pain, and climbed back onto the carriage to drive it back to the palace.
As the Eighth Prince sat in the carriage, his hands clenched tightly, his eyes filled with malice. "Zhang Ruochen, you must have obtained some incredible treasure. Otherwise, there's no way you could have grown so strong in just three months."
"I still have a chance. If I can control Concubine Lin and threaten him with her life, he'll have no choice but to hand over that treasure. Once I obtain it, my cultivation will skyrocket, and I'll become a martial master."
"When I become a true martial powerhouse, Zhang Ruochen will be the first to die. And Shan Xiangling, that wretch, I'll make sure you become my toy. Hahaha!"
As night fell, the streets grew quieter.
Two men in black stood on a rooftop, watching the antelope-drawn carriage below.
"That's the Ninth Prince's carriage?" The taller of the two whispered menacingly.
He had an iron bow and ten thunder arrows on his back, and his presence radiated cold, murderous intent.
The shorter, stockier man sneered. "No doubt about it. Look at the palace maid driving the carriage; she matches the portrait Lady Han gave us. That's the Ninth Prince's servant, and he must be inside."
"Hehe! Assassinating a prince, how thrilling! Once we complete this mission, Lady Han will surely reward us handsomely."
The tall man drew a thunder arrow, nocking it on his bowstring, and aimed at the carriage.