Yang Ye's anger boiled over as he sensed Du Xiu's ambush from behind. He wasn't someone who sought trouble, but that didn't mean he would shy away from it. The humiliation, the unfair workload, and now the direct assault—this trio had crossed the line.
Turning swiftly, Yang Ye clenched his fist and smashed it against Du Xiu's incoming right fist.
Bang!
The collision of fists echoed across the training grounds. A cracking noise followed, and Du Xiu's eyes widened in shock and pain. His expression twisted as he realized his hand had been broken.
"Ah!" Du Xiu cried out, attempting to pull back his injured hand. But Yang Ye wasn't finished. With a firm grip, Yang Ye caught hold of Du Xiu's wrist, yanking him forward with brute force. In one swift motion, Yang Ye lifted his right leg and drove it into Du Xiu's stomach.
Bang!
Du Xiu was sent flying back, landing heavily on the stone ground several meters away.
Though both were Labor Disciples, Yang Ye was leagues apart from the likes of Du Xiu. While others spent their time lazing around after finishing their chores, Yang Ye dedicated himself to rigorous training. Every day, without fail, he tempered his body under the harshest conditions. Years of relentless effort had forged a strength that far surpassed ordinary Labor Disciples.
Yang Ye's cold eyes turned toward Gao Qiu, who stood frozen at the side. Feeling Yang Ye's piercing gaze, Gao Qiu instinctively stepped back. His fists clenched, and his voice trembled as he said, "Du Xiu is Manager Xu's nephew, and his cousin is an Outer Court Disciple. You—you won't get away with this! They'll come for you!"
Yang Ye ignored the trembling threat. Instead, he approached Du Xiu, who lay sprawled on the ground, his face a mask of fear and pain. Squatting down, Yang Ye lightly patted Du Xiu's cheek. His tone was calm, yet it carried an unmistakable weight.
"Now," Yang Ye said, "the three of you will clean the entire training grounds. Do you have a problem with that?"
Du Xiu gulped, his bravado shattered. He hesitated for a moment but quickly nodded when he saw Yang Ye's fist clench threateningly. "No problem, no problem at all! We'll start cleaning right away!"
The lesson was clear: survival came first. His uncle's words echoed in his mind—A wise man doesn't fight when the odds are against him.
Yang Ye gave him a cold, indifferent glance before standing and placing the broom on his shoulder. Without another word, he walked toward Cool Breeze Gorge. Though he had triumphed today, he knew this was far from over. Du Xiu lacked the courage to retaliate himself, but he wouldn't hesitate to call on his uncle or his Outer Court Disciple cousin.
At his current level, Yang Ye was no match for an Outer Court Disciple. He could rely only on his raw physical strength, and without becoming a Profounder, he wouldn't stand a chance against true cultivators.
Clenching his fists, Yang Ye resolved to intensify his training. He had to reach the Mortal Realm as soon as possible. His future, and his ability to protect himself, depended on it.
---
Back on the training grounds, Li Ge hurried to help Du Xiu to his feet. "Big Brother Du, what do we do now?" he asked in a low voice, glancing nervously in the direction Yang Ye had left.
Li Ge's earlier bravado had vanished. He now understood that going after Yang Ye would only result in another beating.
Gao Qiu remained silent, the memory of Yang Ye's cold ruthlessness fresh in his mind. For the first time, fear crept into his heart.
Du Xiu gritted his teeth, his eyes burning with resentment as he watched Yang Ye's retreating figure. "We wait," he said, his voice venomous. "Once my cousin returns from visiting our relatives in the mortal world, we'll settle this. I'll make him suffer for this insult!"
Five years. For five years, Du Xiu had ruled Labor Peak without challenge. Not a single person had dared defy him—until today. Yang Ye's defiance had ignited a fire of hatred within him, and he vowed to make the upstart pay dearly.
As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the training grounds were filled with the sound of reluctant brooms scratching against stone. Three figures, their pride wounded, began cleaning in silence. The air was heavy with anger, fear, and an unspoken promise of future conflict.
Meanwhile, Yang Ye walked on, his determination burning brighter than ever. I will rise above this. Just wait and see.
"Did you hear about what happened? That so-called 'number one piece of trash in history,' Yang Ye—no, scratch that—Yang Ye bashed up Du Xiu and his lackeys!"
"What? Are you serious? That bastard Du Xiu got beaten up?"
"You're joking, right? Du Xiu's uncle is Manager Xu, and his cousin is an Outer Court Disciple. Would anyone, especially a Labor Disciple, dare lay a hand on him?"
"Why would I lie? I saw it myself. Du Xiu and those two bootlickers of his pulled their usual act. They refused to work and tried to dump the entire workload on Yang Ye. But Yang Ye stood his ground, and when Du Xiu and his cronies attacked, Yang Ye didn't just fight back—he took them down! And get this: now, they're doing his share of the work!"
"No way! Are you telling me Du Xiu is cleaning the training grounds like a common Labor Disciple?"
"Haha! Serves him right! That bastard has been throwing his weight around for years, relying on his uncle and cousin to bully us. It's about time someone taught him a lesson. Come on, let's spread the word. Everyone on Labor Peak deserves to hear this!"
---
In no time, news of Yang Ye's defiance spread like wildfire across Labor Peak. Whispers filled the air as Labor Disciples exchanged the tale of how Yang Ye had humiliated the once-untouchable Du Xiu.
For years, Du Xiu had ruled over Labor Peak with an iron fist, hiding behind the influence of his powerful uncle and cousin. No one had dared to stand up to him. But now, Yang Ye—a man they had mocked and dismissed as the "number one piece of trash in history"—had shattered that oppressive status quo.
The Labor Disciples weren't just surprised; they were exhilarated. Yang Ye's actions had ignited a spark of hope in their hearts, a belief that perhaps, just perhaps, they too could rise above their circumstances.
---
Meanwhile, Yang Ye had already left the commotion behind.
At the heart of Cool Breeze Gorge, a serene and secluded location on Labor Peak, Yang Ye took a deep breath and absorbed the crisp mountain air. The gorge was one of the few places where he could train without interruptions, a sanctuary far removed from the politics and pettiness of the Labor Division.
Yang Ye sat cross-legged beneath a towering pine tree. His fists were still faintly trembling from the confrontation earlier, not from fear, but from excitement. His heart was ablaze with a sense of triumph and resolve.
"Strength," Yang Ye murmured, gazing at his bruised knuckles. "This is what strength feels like. I've barely started, and yet… it's enough to make a difference."
He knew the battle with Du Xiu was just the beginning. The consequences of today's actions would soon follow, and Du Xiu's powerful backers wouldn't let this insult slide. But Yang Ye didn't care. If anything, it only strengthened his resolve.
"I won't be a victim anymore," he said quietly, his voice firm and unwavering. "If they want to come, let them. I'll keep growing stronger. I'll prove that I'm not trash."
Closing his eyes, Yang Ye began to cultivate. The tiny vortex in his Dantian stirred, a faint yet palpable energy radiating from it. This mysterious force was his hope, his secret weapon. With every ounce of determination, Yang Ye focused on drawing out its power, channeling it into his body.
Time passed in silence as the sun dipped lower, casting long shadows across Cool Breeze Gorge. But Yang Ye remained still, his mind wholly absorbed in his training. He knew that the road ahead would be fraught with challenges, but for the first time in years, he felt ready to face them.
"I'll rise. No matter what it takes, I'll rise."
---
Back at the training grounds, Du Xiu gritted his teeth as he swept the stone floor. His hands trembled from the pain of his broken bones, but the humiliation stung far worse. Labor Disciples passing by stole glances, some whispering, others outright smirking at his expense.
"Just you wait, Yang Ye," Du Xiu muttered under his breath, his eyes burning with hatred. "Once my cousin returns, you'll regret ever laying a hand on me."
Li Ge and Gao Qiu worked silently beside him, their heads low and their faces pale. For years, they had ridden on Du Xiu's coattails, enjoying the power and privileges of his connections. But today, they had been reminded of a harsh truth: there was always someone stronger.
And now, that someone was Yang Ye.
At the edge of a crystal-clear pool in Cool Breeze Gorge, Yang Ye sat cross-legged with his eyes half-closed, his breathing steady and deep. The tranquility of the gorge belied the storm raging in his thoughts.
After his earlier clash with Du Xiu, a realization had struck him: something was wrong with his body. It had always seemed unusual for someone like him, who trained tirelessly, to be unable to advance as a Profounder. Today, Yang Ye decided to probe deeper into the mystery of the tiny vortex within his Dantian.
Closing his eyes fully, Yang Ye immersed his consciousness into his body.
---
At the depths of his Dantian, he found it—a vortex, no larger than the palm of his hand. It spun ceaselessly, emanating a strange suction force that devoured every trace of Profound Energy he absorbed during his training.
Yang Ye's heart sank as he observed its activity. The vortex wasn't just an anomaly; it was the reason he had been unable to advance.
"Wait," Yang Ye muttered to himself, his brows furrowing.
It dawned on him. By the standards of the Sword Sect, anyone capable of absorbing Profound Energy into their body was already a Profounder. And Yang Ye had been doing just that for years. The only reason he hadn't progressed further was because the vortex absorbed every bit of energy the moment it entered his Dantian.
His fists clenched. "So, I've been a Profounder all along… but this damned thing has been hoarding my energy!"
---
Yang Ye refused to accept defeat. Since the vortex resided within him, it should belong to him, obey him. With that belief, Yang Ye tried to draw energy out of the vortex, focusing every ounce of his willpower on wresting control.
But the vortex resisted. Every time he attempted to extract Profound Energy, it spun faster, devouring even the slightest trace of energy he could gather. His frustration mounted with each failed attempt.
"Damn it!" Yang Ye gritted his teeth. "That Profound Energy is mine!"
Realizing brute force was futile, Yang Ye shifted tactics. He suppressed his anger, inhaled deeply, and tried reasoning with the mysterious force.
"Listen," he began, addressing the vortex as though it were a sentient being. "You need me to absorb energy, right? Without me, there's no Profound Energy for you to devour. How about we strike a deal? You give me a little bit—just enough to train—and I'll bring in even more energy for you. It's a win-win. What do you say?"
Silence. The vortex continued spinning, indifferent to his plea.
Yang Ye's patience wore thin, but just as he was about to unleash a string of curses, something changed.
A faint golden thread of Profound Energy emerged from the vortex, gliding toward his Dantian.
Yang Ye's eyes snapped open in disbelief. "Did it… agree?"
Before he could fully process what had happened, another golden thread flowed out. Then another. One by one, strands of light golden Profound Energy poured into his Dantian, filling it with an unprecedented vitality. By the time the vortex stopped, nearly twenty threads of energy had been released.
Yang Ye's excitement was palpable. He could finally feel the presence of Profound Energy within him—a sensation he had long yearned for.
But his joy was short-lived.
The golden threads didn't remain in his Dantian. Instead, they flowed outward, dispersing through his meridians and spreading across his entire body. As they reached his muscles, Yang Ye felt a strange, exhilarating sensation.
It was as though every cell in his body was cheering, greedily absorbing the golden energy. His exhaustion melted away, replaced by an overwhelming surge of strength.
"What is this…" Yang Ye murmured, flexing his fingers as a newfound power coursed through his veins.
The soreness from his relentless training sessions vanished entirely. Instead, his body felt stronger, more robust, as if every fiber of his being had been fortified.
"This energy… it's refining my body!"
---
Yang Ye's excitement quickly turned into determination.
If this was the gift the vortex bestowed, then he would make the most of it. He realized that his path might differ from others, but it wasn't necessarily worse. The golden energy had rejuvenated him, allowing him to push his body far beyond its previous limits.
"Fine," Yang Ye said, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "You take what you want, and I'll take what I need. Let's see who benefits more in the end."
His gaze sharpened as he looked at the pool before him, its surface reflecting the evening sky. The serene surroundings stood in stark contrast to the fire burning in his heart.
"Outer Court Disciples, the Sword Sect… all of it. I'll prove that I belong."
With renewed vigor, Yang Ye stood and began a new round of training. Every punch, every kick, every movement carried the weight of his resolve.
His journey had only just begun, but for the first time in years, Yang Ye felt hope—not just for survival but for greatness.