Following his master, Lin Chen arrived at the Inner Sect assembly area.

  Six other disciples were already waiting there. A single glance was enough for Lin Chen to tell—they were all direct disciples of elders.

  Their robes were different from ordinary inner sect attire, each one clearly a defensive treasure. Even without knowing the exact grade, their status was obvious.

  Nearby stood an elder, a middle-aged man with a thick beard and a stern expression. His cultivation aura was steady and deep, the kind that naturally commanded respect.

  Lin Chen glanced at him… then at his own master.

  I really wonder, he thought, why female elders always look so young and well-maintained, while male elders just look… old.

  [I have an answer for that,] Aiva said calmly.

  [Have you ever seen a man past forty who actually cares about his appearance and uses all sorts of methods to maintain it?]

  [And if you’re about to mention movie actors—stop. They don’t count.]

  Lin Chen clicked his tongue. He really was about to say that.

  Fair enough. Maintaining your looks is already troublesome when you’re young. Why bother once you’re past forty?

  [Now let me ask you this,] Aiva continued.

  [Have you ever seen a woman who doesn’t care about her appearance? Age doesn’t matter. If there’s a mirror nearby, she’ll find it.]

  [In short, females pay attention to appearance by instinct. Males… you already know.]

  Lin Chen went silent.

  He couldn’t find a single argument to refute that.

  At that moment, the bearded elder turned toward them. “Elder Yaoye,” he said, “shall we depart?”

  It was clear now—they were the late ones. Everyone had been waiting for them.

  “Yes,” Lan Yaoye replied simply.

  The elder nodded and reached into his storage ring, taking out a flying treasure shaped like a circular platform. With a flick of his wrist, he sent it into the air.

  The treasure expanded instantly, its surface stabilizing as it grew large enough for several people to stand on comfortably.

  A faint hum followed as it hovered steadily, ready to depart.

  Without hesitation, the elder stepped onto it. One by one, the disciples followed. Lin Chen and Lan Yaoye boarded last.

  The treasure hummed softly, then shot forward.

  And just like that, they rose into the sky, leaving the sect behind as they headed toward the Secret Realm.

  As the flying treasure cut through the air, Lin Chen sat quietly at its edge.

  His master was discussing something with the elder, while the other disciples chatted among themselves. Since he didn’t know anyone there, Lin Chen was left alone—much like a student on a school trip who had no friends to sit with.

  A familiar feeling.

  He didn’t mind it.

  Once I enter the Secret Realm, Lin Chen thought calmly, I should focus on gathering herbs and spirit fruits. No distractions.

  Weapons, martial techniques, inheritances—those were tempting, but for him, they weren’t the priority.

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  Compared to flashy treasures, consumables were far more valuable.

  Spirit fruits, rare herbs, medicinal materials—those were things that could be turned directly into strength.

  Just as that thought settled in his mind, a hand suddenly patted his shoulder.

  Lin Chen turned around and saw a familiar smiling face.

  “…I’m starting to suspect you’re my stalker.”

  Yan Shou grinned. “Relax. If I really were stalking you, I’d be much sneakier.”

  Lin Chen sighed. At this point, he honestly wouldn’t have been surprised.

  “No,” Yan Shou continued casually. “I’m the direct disciple of the Third Elder, so I’m also joining this trip.”

  Lin Chen paused, then stared at him. “You’re a direct disciple too? Then why the hell were you running a stall in the Outer Court when we first met?”

  That explained a lot—his wealth, his connections, his freedom to move around the Inner Court.

  “For money,” Yan Shou replied without hesitation.

  “…Of course,” Lin Chen muttered.

  Then he frowned slightly. “Not to be rude, but how did you become a direct disciple of the Third Elder? Your cultivation isn’t exactly impressive.”

  Yan Shou was only at the second stage of the Essence Forging Realm—the lowest among all the disciples heading to the Secret Realm.

  Yan Shou didn’t look offended at all.

  “My friend, your worldview is a bit narrow,” he said calmly. “Power isn’t always directly linked to cultivation. Do you know what my master specializes in?”

  The way he spoke made it sound like he was lecturing Lin Chen.

  “Don’t know,” Lin Chen replied honestly.

  He vaguely remembered the Third Elder trying to speak to him during the sect contest before his master snatched him away. Beyond that, he had no idea.

  “My master is the strongest in the sect when it comes to arrays and formations,” Yan Shou said, a hint of pride in his voice. “No one can beat him in that field.”

  A sly smile appeared on his face.

  “As his disciple, I’m skilled in them as well. I’m not much of a fighter, but when it comes to traps, restrictions, and setups… I’m quite good.”

  Lin Chen’s expression turned a little serious.

  So that was it.

  People like Yan Shou were far more dangerous than straightforward fighters. You wouldn’t even realize you were in trouble until it was already too late.

  “Well,” Lin Chen said after a moment, “it’s a good thing you’re not my enemy. Anyone who ends up on your bad side is definitely doomed.”

  Yan Shou coughed lightly. “You flatter me.”

  Lin Chen looked at him expressionlessly.

  Does this look like praise to you?

  “But on this trip,” Yan Shou said quietly, lowering his voice, “there’s one person you should be careful of.”

  Lin Chen’s expression didn’t change. “Who?”

  Yan Shou tilted his head slightly, signaling with his eyes. “That one in the middle—the one surrounded by four others.”

  Lin Chen turned his gaze.

  He saw a young man with long blue hair tied into a neat ponytail. He wore white robes embroidered with golden patterns, clean and elegant. His posture was straight, his expression calm yet arrogant, as if he naturally stood above those around him.

  He didn’t need to speak.

  The way the four disciples beside him subtly catered to him—laughing at his words, adjusting their positions to stay close—made his status obvious.

  “…He looks important,” Lin Chen said. “The kind who’s used to being at the center.”

  “Of course he is,” Yan Shou replied quietly. “That’s Chen Hao—the sect leader’s direct disciple. The designated successor of our sect, the future sect leader.”

  Lin Chen raised an eyebrow. “Then why are you telling me to be wary of him?”

  “If he’s the next sect leader, shouldn’t we technically be on the same side?”

  Yan Shou shook his head slightly. “That’s exactly why.”

  “Although Chen Hao is a genuine genius and possesses top-grade Ice spiritual roots, his character has a serious flaw.”

  Lin Chen frowned. “Don’t tell me—arrogant and brainless?”

  There were plenty of cultivators like that.

  “No,” Yan Shou said calmly. “If anything, he’s a capable leader. Too capable.”

  Lin Chen paused. “Too capable?”

  “He already sees himself as the sect leader,” Yan Shou continued. “In his mind, everyone should stand beneath him. Anyone who doesn’t follow his lead… is viewed as defiance.”

  “So he thinks he’s above everyone just because he’s the future sect leader?”

  “Yes,” Yan Shou said bluntly. “And he doesn’t tolerate opposition. There have been incidents—more than one—where disciples who disagreed with him were beaten to the brink of death.”

  Lin Chen’s expression darkened.

  So that’s the kind of person he is.

  A genius. A leader. And someone who believed the world revolved around him.

  “Sounds like someone with a screw loose,” Lin Chen muttered.

  Now he finally understood why Yan Shou had warned him.

  Their ways of thinking were completely opposite.

  Chen Hao wanted control.

  Lin Chen wanted freedom.

  Inside the Secret Realm, where rules were loose and strength dictated everything, their ideals were bound to clash.

  Lin Chen already knew one thing for certain—there was no way he would lower his head and obediently follow someone just because that person fancied himself a leader.

  He’d seen this type before.

  In his previous life, he had worked under people exactly like that—those who stood at the front, barked orders, and claimed all the credit once the work was done. Anyone beneath them was nothing more than a tool, useful only while obedient.

  Judging from Yan Shou’s description, Chen Hao fit that mold perfectly.

  A natural-born leader, Lin Chen thought coldly. The kind who believes the world owes him loyalty.

  Inside the Secret Realm, Chen Hao would undoubtedly take charge, issuing commands and directing others as if it were his rightful place.

  And when treasures were found? He’d keep the valuable ones for himself, tossing scraps to the four followers around him as rewards for their obedience.

  A classic tactic.

  Those four disciples weren’t allies—they were retainers. Useful shields. Convenient pawns.

  He had no interest in playing that game.

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