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"Hahaha! Good! Good disciple, rise quickly!"

Wang Juechu's wild, ecstatic laughter shattered the last shred of Lin Tianhu's hope.

He stared at the child kneeling on the ground, bowing his head in obeisance to Sect Leader Wang Juechu, and the whole world turned gray.

That hand, still outstretched in midair, trembled slightly before falling limp and powerless.

It was over.

All of it was over.

The Qilin Child he had brought back with his own hands, the Apprentice Ceremony he had painstakingly schemed for, the future of the Outer Blade Hall's rise he had fantasized about.

In this moment, it all became a colossal joke.

He could even feel the gazes of his colleagues around him.

Some held sympathy, some pity, but most were filled with schadenfreude and undisguised mockery.

Lin Tianhu's aged face flushed a livid red, then shifted to green, and finally settled into a deathly pallor.

He felt as if he weren't standing in the Council Hall, but stripped naked and thrown into the Marketplace, gawked at by thousands.

And the instigator of it all, the "Xiao Feng" he had once treasured, was now being personally helped to his feet by Sect Leader Wang Juechu, whose face was full of kindness and approval.

"From today onward, you are my Final Disciple, Wang Juechu's own, and the future hope of our Seven Profound Sect!"

Wang Juechu's voice was booming and decisive, instantly setting the tone for Han Feng's status.

The surrounding hall masters immediately shifted with the wind, stepping forward one after another to offer their congratulations.

"Congratulations, Sect Leader, on gaining such a fine disciple!"

"Congratulations, Junior Brother! If you ever need anything, feel free to come to my Flying Bird Hall!"

"Junior Brother Han is a peerless genius—truly a blessing for our sect!"

Every "Junior Brother" and "Junior Brother Han" rang in Lin Tianhu's ears like piercing barbs.

He watched Han Feng, surrounded by the crowd at the center, that young, childish face wearing just the right expression of flattered surprise.

But Lin Tianhu caught a hint of something he had never seen before: a calm detachment.

He wasn't clueless.

He just didn't want to accept it.

This brat had never seen him as a true Master from the start.

He was nothing more than a stepping stone for the boy to climb higher.

Realizing this, Lin Tianhu felt a surge of blood and Qi churning in his chest, a sweet taste rising in his throat, nearly making him spit out a mouthful of old blood.

The next day, a piece of news sprouted wings and spread to every corner of the Seven Profound Sect within half a day.

The Sect Leader had taken a disciple!

And it was a new disciple who had joined less than ten days ago—Han Feng!

"Did you hear? That Han Feng only took seven days to reach the fourth layer of Positive Yang Force, something us Outer Disciples train for years to achieve!"

"My god! Seven days? I trained for three years just to get a Qi Sensation!"

"That's not all! I heard from a friend in the Inner Sect that the Sect Leader tested him personally in front of all the hall masters—his talent is a once-in-ten-thousand-years find! He snatched him right out from under Hall Master Lin!"

"Hall Master Lin? That's... really rough."

"Tell me about it. I heard yesterday that Hall Master Lin went back to his hall with a black face, hung Senior Brother Li Feiyu up and beat him, cursing him for having a loose tongue. But later it turned out the biggest mouth was his own—he spilled it while drunk..."

The rumors spread wider and wider, growing more and more absurd.

By the time the news reached the martial world outside the Seven Profound Sect, the version had completely spiraled out of control.

"Did you hear? The Seven Profound Sect has produced a monstrous prodigy—mastered a Divine Skill in seven days, already a Second-rate Master!"

"Second-rate? The version I heard says he's first-rate! Killed an ox with one palm strike!"

"You're all behind the times! Latest news—that genius has already stepped into the Innate Realm, and the next Sect Leader of the Seven Profound Sect is already decided!"

As for the storm outside, Han Feng naturally knew nothing and cared even less.

At this moment, he had already moved out of that cramped, shabby Outer Disciple courtyard and into an independent residence in the core area of the Inner Sect.

Green bricks and gray tiles, a small bridge over flowing water, pavilions and towers—everything was there.

The courtyard was also equipped with two pretty maids, specially assigned to handle his meals and daily needs.

"So this is the treatment of a Quasi Young Sect Master?"

Han Feng lay on the soft, comfortable bed, feeling utterly pleased with himself.

He felt no guilt whatsoever about the "betrayal" in the Council Hall the day before.

Are you kidding me?

One was a limited-potential Outer Hall Master.

One was the highest authority who held the resources of the entire sect in his hands.

Anyone with a functioning brain knew how to answer this multiple-choice question.

Lin Tianhu was good to him only because he valued his talent, wanting to use him as capital to climb higher and as a tool to show off.

In essence, it was no different from him using Lin Tianhu as a stepping stone.

Everyone was after their own interests—no one owed anyone anything.

On the very first day he became the Sect Master's personal disciple, the threshold of his courtyard was nearly worn down by visitors.

Many high-ranking members of the sect came bearing lavish gifts under the pretense of "elders visiting a junior."

The fat Hall Master of the Four Seas Hall sent a chest of East Sea Pearls worth a thousand gold.

The wiry Hall Master of the Flying Bird Hall brought a century-old wild ginseng.

Vice Hall Master Ma of the Artifact Refining Hall—the very same drinking buddy who had swindled Lin Tianhu—presented a short sword that could cut through iron like mud.

Their intentions were obvious: they all wanted to build a good relationship with him, the undisputed "future big shot," ahead of time.