4: Chapter 4 Honest people aren't so easy to bully either.

The sound of laughter was still echoing above the Martial Arts Arena.

Xie Feng stood next to Tu Ziguan with an expressionless Face. He had known this result long ago; the original host's memories clearly stated that his root talent was Low Grade, having opened only a single meridian. The Xie Family hadn't left him in the side courtyard for three years without asking or caring for no reason.

"I just didn't expect Xie Tianxiong to force me to come. I came, I was tested, one meridian. What then?" Xie Feng thought.

Then he could go back, right?

Xie Feng turned around, preparing to leave. Tu Ziguan hesitated for a moment, appearing like he wanted to follow, but stopped just as his feet moved.

Xie Feng didn't look back. Standing his ground when the entire audience laughed at him made Tu Ziguan more loyal than most. There was no need to drag him along to share in the embarrassment.

"Hold on."

Xie Tianxiong's voice came from behind him. It wasn't loud, but the entire Martial Arts Arena fell silent.

Xie Feng's steps paused.

Xie Tianxiong didn't look at him, but instead looked toward the high platform to the north of the Martial Arts Arena. Three people were sitting there, who were the representatives of the three major Sects.

This was already the third day. Several Elders were feeling somewhat uninterested; apart from showing favor during Tu Ziguan's test, they rested with closed eyes the rest of the time.

Among them, Elder Liu of the Qingyun Sect sat in the center. With snow-white hair and beard and a green robe, he seemed to be napping.

When Xie Tianxiong spoke, Elder Liu opened his eyes.

"Patriarch Xie." Elder Liu's voice was unhurried. "Using a medallion to guarantee someone is an old rule. But to guarantee a legitimate son who has only opened one meridian, there must be a justification."

"There is."

Xie Tianxiong uttered only two words.

Elder Liu's eyebrows rose slightly.

"This son of mine," Xie Tianxiong's voice was flat, as if speaking of a trivial matter, "repelled an aberration last night."

The Martial Arts Arena fell silent for a moment.

And then it exploded.

"Repelled an aberration?!"

"Is he fucking bragging?"

"Is Patriarch Xie talking about that crying aberration?!"

"Impossible! That aberration has already killed two people in the city! Even Martial Artists of the Third Realm wouldn't dare Face it head-on and could only evade it using rules!"

"A trash like him who only opened one meridian, repelling an aberration? Has Xie Tianxiong gone mad?"

Xie Feng stood in place, his back suddenly going stiff.

He suddenly had a very bad feeling.

Elder Liu's body leaned forward slightly. He looked at Xie Tianxiong, his gaze carrying a bit of seriousness: "Patriarch Xie, are these words true?"

"I saw it with my own eyes."

"How do you prove it?"

Xie Tianxiong turned his head and looked at Xie Feng.

Xie Feng read one thing from those eyes: his cheap dad wasn't trying to fight for his Face; his dad was verifying a suspicion.

A trash who had opened only one meridian, facing an aberration that had killed two people.

Completely unharmed.

The aberration had vanished, which left Xie Tianxiong utterly baffled. He wanted an answer.

Sons—he had plenty. Testing his hypothesis was well worth it.

As for what his cheap dad wanted, Xie Feng didn't know.

Xie Feng just wanted a hole in the ground to crawl into.

"This old bastard," Xie Feng whispered under his breath.

"Elder Liu." Xie Tianxiong ignored him and continued addressing the high platform. "Your Sect should have brought Low Grade aberrations with you, the kind used to test Disciples' Heart-Nature."

Elder Liu narrowed his eyes.

"Patriarch Xie wants to test him on the spot?"

"Yes."

"Though a Low Grade aberration is not as formidable as a true aberration, for a child who has only opened one meridian..." Elder Liu paused, "he will die."

"He won't."

Xie Tianxiong's tone lacked any wave of emotion.

Won't? Won't your granduncle! Where did you get that confidence from?

Xie Feng cursed internally.

Elder Liu remained silent for a moment, then raised his hand and clapped lightly.

Behind the high platform, two Qingyun Sect Disciples came up carrying a chest. The chest wasn't large, about half a person high, pitch black, and covered with dense runes all over its surface.

When the chest was carried to the center of the Martial Arts Arena, the surrounding crowd automatically took a step back in a circle.

Everyone's Face wore varying degrees of fear.

A Low Grade aberration—though captured from derivative manifestations of a full aberration, though Sealed by runes, though its lethality was far inferior to a true aberration—was still an aberration.

It still possessed rules.

Its rule remained "violate it and die."

For Low Grade Martial Artists, facing an aberration offered only one way: comprehend the rules, utilize the rules, and evade the rules.

No one had ever thought of repelling an aberration head-on.

That required a cultivation base of the Fourth Realm or above.

The chest was placed beside the Spirit Stone.

Elder Liu glanced at Xie Feng: "Child, think it through carefully. Withdrawing now means losing the Xie Family's Face. Not withdrawing might mean losing your life."

Xie Feng wanted to withdraw.

"The Xie Family's Face isn't even worth my ass."

Thinking this, he desperately wanted to back out.

His foot had already shifted half an inch backward.

"For such a trash, the Xie Family must be out of their minds."

The surrounding chatter grew louder. Xie Feng glanced over, and for reasons unknown, a sudden surge of rage rushed to his head as anger took control of him.

I came here for nothing—no Cola, no computer, getting stared at by Outer Gods every single day, and now I have to be spectated like a circus monkey by you people? Did any of you pay for a ticket?

And then Xie Feng felt that gaze.

Falling from the cracks of all time and all space, descending upon him.

Last night, when that aberration pressed right up to his Face, It had merely "looked."

Xie Feng didn't think he had any great ability, but he knew that gaze was still there.

"Bragging, are we? Did some stinky out-of-town ghost come to beg for food from our Yog-Sothoth?"

Thinking this, Xie Feng took a deep breath and walked toward the center of the Martial Arts Arena.

Tu Ziguan shouted from behind: "Xie Feng!"

Xie Feng didn't turn back—not because he had suddenly grown brave, but mainly because he was afraid that if he turned back, he really would run away.

Walking to a distance of three steps before the chest, Xie Feng stopped.

The two Qingyun Sect Disciples glanced at Elder Liu. Elder Liu nodded, and the runes were peeled off layer by layer as the lid opened slowly.

A surge of chill rushed out from inside the chest.

It was that familiar chill that made Xie Feng's hair stand on end, identical to last night.

Cowered inside the chest was a clump of something.

Grayish-white, translucent, seeming to be a clump of mist forcibly solidified into form.

It had no fixed shape; its edges shifted constantly. Not human, not beast, it appeared to be a twisted Face.

It floated out of the chest and then spotted Xie Feng.

A sharp, fragmented sound squeezed out from the crack.

Xie Feng regretted it very quickly.

He was truly scared.

Not afraid of dying—what was there to fear about death? He had died once in his previous life from a cerebral hemorrhage, gone in an instant.

Death was just a matter of a single moment.

What he feared was what he had to Face before dying.

To put it bluntly, he was purely a coward.

That clump of grayish-white mist was floating toward him, getting closer and closer.

The surrounding crowd held their breath.

"Why isn't he moving?"

"Scared silly, probably."

"A trash with one meridian—it's already impressive he can stand upright."

Elder Liu's body leaned forward slightly, his fingers lightly tapping the armrest, while Xie Tianxiong remained expressionless.

"This old thing is that confident?" Elder Liu couldn't help but think silently.

The grayish-white mist floated right in front of Xie Feng.

It stopped. The crack within the mist expanded slowly as something inside stared at Xie Feng. Its entire body suddenly expanded, turning into a massive cloud of grayish-white fog that wrapped around him from all directions.

Xie Feng closed his eyes.

Mainly because he was too terrified—he didn't even dare open his eyes.

Coldness enveloped his entire body as the fog pressed against his skin.

Clammy, sticky, like countless fingers touching his Face, his neck, and his arms all at once.

Then the fog froze.

On the Martial Arts Arena, everyone heard a shriek. The sound was ear-piercingly sharp. The grayish-white fog roiled violently, as if seized by an invisible hand, struggling desperately, twisting frantically, attempting with all its might to escape Xie Feng's body.

It couldn't escape.

Amidst the shrieks, the fog began to dissipate. From the outside in, peeling off layer by layer like burning rice paper, in just an instant, the grayish-white mist grew fainter and fainter, clearer and clearer, until finally, nothing was left.

On the Martial Arts Arena, only Xie Feng remained standing.

He had his eyes closed, his Face pale as death, his legs shaking like a sieve. Then he opened his eyes, looked at his undamaged hands, looked at the empty ground in front of him, and his lips trembled.

The timing was impeccable. When the gray mist had enveloped him, he was shaking like a phone on vibrate so nobody saw; when he opened his eyes, the mist happened to dissipate completely.

"Is that it?" he heard himself say.

His voice was still trembling, but the words were out.

Oh crap, my tongue slipped out of fear, Xie Feng thought to himself.

The Martial Arts Arena fell silent for a long time; complete silence reigned.

No one spoke, no one moved.

Even the sound of breathing seemed to be choked off by something.

Elder Liu stood up, looking at Xie Feng, the light in his eyes terrifyingly bright.

"Fourth Realm." Elder Liu's voice carried an unsuppressible tremble. "Only Martial Artists of the Fourth Realm or above can defeat an aberration head-on. You have opened only one meridian, yet you accomplished what only the Fourth Realm can do."

He paused.

"Patriarch Xie, I want this son of yours!"

Xie Tianxiong didn't answer. He was still looking at Xie Feng, his gaze carrying an emotion that Xie Feng couldn't decipher.

Not relief, nor pride. He had confirmed that last night wasn't a hallucination.

There really was something on his trash son.

Xie Feng stood in place, feeling the gazes directed at him from all directions. A hundred different gazes—shock, fear, awe.

Everyone was looking at him, re-evaluating this "trash who opened one meridian."

But Xie Feng didn't care about these people's gazes.

What he cared about was another one.

Xie Feng suddenly understood something: Yog-Sothoth was not his Golden Finger.

"To put it roughly in an analogy... am I Yog-Sothoth's television set?"

It was watching him, that was all.

As for those who saw Yog-Sothoth while looking at him and vanished because they couldn't bear it...

What did that have to do with Yog-Sothoth?

Xie Feng slowly walked back to Tu Ziguan's side. Tu Ziguan's mouth was agape, his composure completely shattered.

"You..." Tu Ziguan spoke with difficulty, "Just now, you..."

"Don't ask."

"But you!"

"Don't ask."

"That aberration!"

"I said don't ask." Xie Feng looked at him with sincere eyes. "My legs are still shaking. Give me a hand."

Tu Ziguan froze for a second, then silently reached out and held Xie Feng's arm. Xie Feng leaned most of his body weight onto that hand, Face expressionless on the outside, but with only one thought in his heart.

"Can my TV signal break down for a bit so Yog-Sothoth can go find someone better?"

Tu Ziguan, however, was thinking something completely different.

"I knew this guy was no ordinary deal!"