32: Intelligence: Lin Chengyuan's treacherous scheme

The first hint of morning light pierced through the window lattice, covered with old hemp paper, casting several hazy beams of light into the room.

Dust motes floated silently within the light beams.

Lin Jingyu sat quietly on his meditation cushion, his aura as deep and still as an ancient pool. The blood and fire, the clamor and the bone-deep humiliation of the ancestral hall last night, had not dissipated.

They were forcibly pressed into the depths of his heart by an invisible hand, settling into a sharp, icy sliver deep within his eyes, its cold light contained, dormant and ready to strike.

His drinking session with Uncle Lingkuang last night was, of course, incredibly hearty.

It was both an outlet and a silent vow. Both men used the alcohol to express their inner thoughts.

As Cultivators, ordinary alcohol could naturally be easily metabolized, yet it couldn't suppress the clarity in their minds.

But neither of them used their cultivation to sober up, allowing themselves to get drunk.

It wasn't until deep into the night that Ling Kuang stumbled home, reeking of alcohol and burdened by an even deeper fatigue.

Lin Jingyu habitually stirred his mind.

Familiar ripples appeared in the Void Realm before him, and the semi-transparent light screen silently emerged like a water surface.

"Intelligence refreshed." The words were cold and clear.

Lin Jingyu's breathing imperceptibly hitched, his gaze, like that of a hawk, locked onto the words on the light screen.

Each word seemed to carry a chilling coldness, seeping into his Divine Soul.

“Today, at the third quarter of the sishi hour, Chen Biao, the last remaining Qi Refining Fourth Layer Cultivator from the Black Wind Stockade trio.”

“After two days of barely clinging to life, he has managed to stabilize the injuries in his body, which were on the verge of collapse due to excessive use of a secret technique, but he is still far from recovery.”

“His heart is filled with apprehension, and fear has seeped into his bones; he is like a bird startled by the mere twang of a bowstring.”

“In search of Medicinal Pills for healing, he, like a stray dog, sought out Lin Chengyuan.”

“Lin Chengyuan feigned comfort, generously promised Medicinal Pills, but took the opportunity to propose a new, malicious scheme.”

“He demanded that Chen Biao immediately go to Lin Jingyu and, with the force of a thunderbolt, demand the fifty Spirit Stone debt.”

“He must humiliate Lin Jingyu to the utmost, thoroughly trample him into the mud, crush his dignity, and plunge him into a desperate abyss.”

“When Lin Jingyu is at his wit's end, Lin Chengyuan will then 'timely' appear, playing the savior.”

“Using the prepared fifty Spirit Stones as a 'advance payment,' he will force Lin Jingyu to sign a lifetime servitude contract, thus becoming his slave and lackey.”

“After the matter is concluded, not only will the healing Medicinal Pills be given, but those fifty Spirit Stones will also go into Chen Biao's pocket, untouched, as a 'hardship fee.'”

“Upon hearing this, Chen Biao's eyes flickered with greed and fierce light. This scheme carried almost no risk, yet the reward far exceeded that of a dangerous robbery.”

“He immediately agreed with a sinister grin, as if he could already see the Spirit Stones and Medicinal Pills within his grasp.”

“It is expected that after obtaining the fifty Spirit Stones, Chen Biao will temporarily return to a secluded mountain cave, thirty-five li south of the massive jujube tree that has grown for hundreds of years at the entrance of the Lin Family.”

“There, he will take the Medicinal Pills provided by Lin Chengyuan and race against time to heal his injuries.”

“Once his injuries show a slight improvement, he will flee back to the Black Wind Stockade's stronghold.”

“After this ordeal, he has developed a fear of being a Bandit Cultivator and only wishes for a peaceful life, no longer daring to set foot in this dangerous place.”

"Heh..."

A short, light chuckle, like a cold wind scraping over thin ice, escaped Lin Jingyu's lips. It was sharp, devoid of any warmth.

Lin Jingyu slowly opened his eyes, a sharp glint flashing through them, like a streak of lightning across the dark night.

The corner of his mouth curved into an uncontrollable arc, a smirk of disdain and control after seeing through everything.

"Lin Chengyuan, oh Lin Chengyuan..." He murmured silently, his fingertips lightly tapping the meditation cushion.

"You old dog, you truly lack any depth. Before the seven-day deadline, you're already impatiently sending your curs to my door?"

The Lin Family was as weak as a candle in the wind, facing the jackals of the Black Wind Stockade, and an unfounded IOU had become a sword hanging over their heads.

No one dared to question its authenticity, and no one dared to resist its tyranny.

If it were a Foundation Establishment Family, even if a Family member genuinely owed money, the Black Wind Stockade would never dare to be so arrogant and overbearing; they would only humbly beg.

In this world, weakness is the original sin.

He rose, his movements unhurried, and began to wash.

The cold water splashed on his face, dispelling the last trace of drunkenness and fatigue, invigorating his spirit.

Yesterday in the ancestral hall, he appeared to be covered in blood, but in reality, most were superficial injuries, otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to drink without any ill effects.

After half a night of spiritual energy circulation, most of his injuries had healed.

He changed into a clean set of old clothes; though not luxurious, they were neat and tidy.

He walked to an inconspicuous mud brick in the corner, squatted down, and infused a faint but precise trace of spiritual energy into his fingertips.

Several loose green bricks were silently pried up, revealing a heavy coarse cloth pouch beneath.

He reached in, and his fingertips felt the warm, hard touch of fifty Low-Grade Spirit Stones clinking together, making a crisp, pleasant sound.

The pouch was slightly open, and a warm spiritual glow flowed in the dim corner, illuminating his calm, unruffled profile and the hidden cold glint in his eyes.

These fifty Spirit Stones had long been prepared.

They were a shield, and also a spear.

Today, he would make Lin Chengyuan fall from the sky to the ground.

Then, he would see how Lin Chengyuan's hypocritical old face twisted and changed color under the watchful eyes of everyone!

"Brother?"

Lin Jingxia's sleepy call came from behind him, tinged with a hint of unease. She rubbed her eyes as she emerged from the inner room, just in time to see the bag of shimmering Spirit Stones in her brother's hand.

Her small mouth slightly agape, her eyes flashed with confusion and worry.

"It's nothing." Lin Jingyu quickly hid the bag close to his body, tucking it into his embrace.

He casually ruffled his sister's somewhat messy hair, the warmth from his palm conveying a comforting strength.

His tone was calm and unwavering, yet it contained an undeniable power:

"Little sister, stay home today and watch carefully."

"Watch how your brother will reclaim a portion of the humiliation suffered in the ancestral hall yesterday, just for you!"

Every word was crystal clear, falling into Lin Jingxia's ears, making her heart skip a beat, and her small hands unconsciously clutched the corner of her clothes.

the third quarter of the chenshi hour had just arrived.

The rising sun sparingly cast its warmth upon the earth, not yet dispelling the lingering chill of dawn.

The small Lin Family courtyard was utterly silent.

"Bang!"

A deafening explosion, like a sudden clap of thunder!

The already flimsy and dilapidated wattle gate was violently kicked open by a brutal force!

Splintered wood flew in all directions like exploding fireworks, crackling loudly.

"You little brat of the Lin Family! Get out here and return the Spirit Stones to your Grand-Uncle Chen Biao!"

The thunderous roar, laden with thick, bloody Evil Qi, surged into the courtyard like a tangible gale, shaking dust from the eaves.

Outside the courtyard, Chen Biao, the sole remaining Qi Refining Fourth Layer Cultivator from the Black Wind Stockade, stood with his hands on his hips.

He was gaunt and emaciated, but his triangular eyes darted about, gleaming with the ferocity and cunning of a jackal.