The training hall at the Yuan estate was wide, spacious, and reinforced for heavy combat. Sunlight poured in through high windows, casting sharp angles across the polished stone floor.
Han Yichen walked in first, smirking, his boots tapping confidently with each step. Lin Hao followed a few paces behind, calm, collected—almost relaxed.
"You'll crawl out of here like a dog," Han Yichen muttered as they reached the center of the hall.
Lin Hao gave a faint laugh. "You talk too much."
Han Yichen didn't wait for a signal. With a roar, he lunged forward, fists already covered in a faint reddish glow—a sign of reinforced muscle techniques from military training.
But Lin Hao didn't step back.
Instead, his stance shifted fluidly. His feet anchored, his arms moved with practiced rhythm. Firm Foundation. That's what made the difference. Though he was at the First Stage of Body Cultivation, his foundation was forged through relentless training, high-grade herbs, and martial knowledge far beyond what his age should allow.
Han Yichen's first strike grazed Lin Hao's shoulder—but that was all it did.
The younger man twisted under the second blow, stepped forward, and delivered a counter: a precise open-palm strike to Han's ribs. The sound echoed. Han stumbled back.
"Still standing?" Lin Hao said, voice even.
Han gritted his teeth, eyes flashing with frustration.
"You think you can humiliate me?" His tone turned dark. "Let's see how long you last."
Suddenly, his movements changed. Sharper. Faster. He began using techniques reserved for killing—ones taught only to soldiers on the front lines.
From the sidelines, Qingyue stepped forward, eyes sharp. "He's going too far!"
But Master Yuan raised his hand calmly. "Trust Lin Hao," he said. "Watch."
Han's strikes came faster now—each one meant to break bone or rupture organs.
But Lin Hao responded with grace. Every motion was honed. Every counter was surgical. And then—he saw his moment.
Lin Hao's right foot shifted, and his body turned with perfect momentum.
"Phoenix Ascending Strike."
His fist moved upward in a blur, glowing faintly with internal force. It struck under Han Yichen's chin, lifting him slightly off the ground. Blood sprayed from Han's mouth as he crashed to the floor, stunned and coughing.
The room went silent.
Han sat up, trembling. "You... you lowborn scum!" he spat. "You dare do this to me? You think this means anything?! I'll show you the difference between us!"
Then he stood, eyes burning.
"Behold, peasant! I am a Level 2 Mental Cultivator!"
A ripple of spiritual pressure erupted from him—not overwhelming, but clearly visible. A small wave of Qi shimmered around him.
Lin Hao didn't flinch. He just smiled.
"Level 2? That's your so-called elite status?"
Han Yichen's expression twisted. "DIE!"
He rushed forward, spiritual energy reinforcing his attack.
And then—he stopped mid-step. His body froze.
Blood trickled from his nose, ears, and eyes. His knees gave out, and he collapsed.
Everyone turned to look at Lin Hao, who now stood calmly, hands behind his back. A quiet aura pulsed around him—immense, heavy, and precise.
Master Yuan's voice cut the silence. "Level 4. Will Projection Stage."
Even the General staggered slightly. He turned to his father. "You found someone exceptional... I need to know everything."
Master Yuan nodded. "On one condition."
A blood pact was quickly made—binding their words and lives.
Then Master Yuan told him everything. The golden Mind Cores. The twin phoenix relics. The resonance between Lin Hao and Qingyue. Their twelve years of training together. The way their cultivation paths enhanced each other beyond natural limits.
By the end, General Yuan stood in stunned silence.
He stepped forward toward Lin Hao, who bowed slightly.
"You may rise," the General said. "I judged you wrongly. Thank you for everything you've done for my daughter."
He gave a slight bow in return.
Qingyue, face flushed, quickly turned and walked out of the hall.
Yu Lian chuckled softly. "She's always like that when she's flustered."
The General watched her go, then nodded with finality. "We'll settle this the proper way. Between families."
Lin Hao blinked. "What?"
"I'll visit your house tomorrow," the General said firmly. "It's time we formalize the engagement."
Lin Hao panicked. "Wait—General Yuan, I think—"
"What's this? You're refusing my daughter?"
"No! That's not what I meant!"
"Good," the General said. "Then it's settled."