Wang Lin Reverses Cause and Effect

Zhu Zhuqing stood in the middle of the training ground with her arms crossed, as cold as an iceberg.

Her gaze fell on Wang Lin, moving from head to toe, then toe to head, before finally settling on his overly delicate face. There was not a trace of expression in her eyes—no hostility, no contempt, not even curiosity.

To her, Wang Lin was just an opponent. Once the fight was over, that was that. Unlike the onlookers around the edge of the training ground, who whispered and pointed, saying nothing but things like, "Such a sissy," "He's prettier than a woman," and "Can someone like that even fight?"

Wang Lin stood with his hands behind his back, his white robes brighter than snow, his long hair stirring gently in the breeze.

Hearing the whispers, the corner of his mouth lifted slightly. It wasn't anger, nor helplessness, but a lofty smile, looking down on ants with something close to pity.

You have no idea who you're talking about. You have no idea what the words "this venerable one" mean.

This venerable one was number one in the universe, invincible. One look from him could slay the heavens and earth. He could even create a son from a drop of his own blood, then call himself Dad. Tell me, is that impressive or what?

You can joke about it out there, but who wouldn't want to get all worked up and call himself Dad?

Terrifying indeed.

Flender raised his hand. "Begin."

Zhu Zhuqing moved. The Hell Spirit Cat Martial Soul possessed her in an instant, and her speed soared several times over.

Her figure left a blur in the sunlight. Her true body had already appeared behind Wang Lin, claws unsheathed, five streaks of cold light slicing through the air and heading straight for his throat.

Fast—so fast that most of the people at the edge of the training ground saw only a black shadow flash past and couldn't make out her movements. Zhu Zhuqing was confident that even if this strike didn't win the match outright, it would at least leave Wang Lin scrambling.

Her claws were an inch from his throat.

Zhu Zhuqing suddenly sensed something was wrong. Her Soul Power wavered—not because she had used too much, not because it was failing to circulate, but as if an invisible hand had gently stirred something inside her.

She had clearly aimed for his throat, yet somehow her claws veered two inches off course, passing above Wang Lin's shoulder and cutting off only a few strands of hair.

Zhu Zhuqing landed and turned, frowning. A coincidence? She didn't believe in coincidences.

She moved again, faster than before. Her second Soul Skill, Hell Hundred Claws, unleashed dozens of claw-shadows that enveloped Wang Lin all at once, sealing off every avenue of escape. Wang Lin still didn't move. He stood there without even blinking.

Because he didn't need to. If things got bad, he could just shout "This venerable one!" a few times. He was nothing like Han Li—he was the real number one. Han Li was merely a mortal nobody, while he was the foundation-makeup battle god.

The claw-shadows fell, and every one of them missed. It wasn't that Wang Lin had dodged them; the claw-shadows themselves had veered off course. Each one twisted strangely away just before it touched him. Some skimmed past his side, some sailed over his head, and some inexplicably veered half a foot aside.

At the edge of the training ground, Yu Xiaogang's eyes were wide as bells. His notebook was already open, and his pen was racing across the page.

Was he absorbing Zhu Zhuqing's Soul Power? No, not absorbing it. He paused, his pen hovering, and his brows knitted into a knot. Was he... reversing cause and effect? Every one of Zhu Zhuqing's attacks was being twisted by some kind of law of causality. She only felt the world spinning, as if something had taken control of her.

Flender stood beside Yu Xiaogang with his arms crossed, his expression far more grave than usual. A law of causality—something like that shouldn't exist in a One-Ring Soul Master, or in anyone at all.

Wang Lin, what exactly is your Martial Soul?

On the training ground, Zhu Zhuqing stopped attacking. She had already gone all out twice and hadn't even touched the hem of Wang Lin's clothes. She stood there, looking at him, fine beads of sweat on her forehead.

That eerie feeling chilled her to the bone. She had aimed true, she had given it everything, so why couldn't she land a hit? What kind of nonsense was this? What was going on with Wang Lin? Why was he so absurdly powerful?

Wang Lin finally moved. He slowly raised his hand from behind his back, his gesture elegant as if he were wielding a brush. A speck of gray light appeared between his brows: the Heavenly Inverse Bead.

The gray-white bead slowly rose from between his brows and hovered three inches in front of them. A vortex spun inside it like a miniature black hole, devouring the light and heat around it. Gray-white radiance spread outward like ripples.

Wang Lin opened his eyes, his gray-white pupils reflecting the light of the Heavenly Inverse Bead. "In front of this venerable one, your attacks will never hit." His voice was quiet, but every word struck the hearts of everyone present like a heavy hammer.

Zhu Zhuqing gritted her teeth and attacked again. This time she went all out, pouring all her Soul Power into her claws, determined to break through that strange distortion. The Heavenly Inverse Bead turned once, and its gray-white light flashed.

Zhu Zhuqing's claws veered off again, this time even more wildly. She had clearly thrust toward Wang Lin's chest, but ended up stabbing into empty space beside him. Her body pitched forward from the momentum, and she nearly fell.

Wang Lin looked at the disheveled Zhu Zhuqing without expression. He raised one finger slightly, and the Heavenly Inverse Bead flashed with black light. It was a counterattack. Zhu Zhuqing suddenly felt a terrifying force surging toward her from every direction. It was her own attack: all the claw-shadows from Hell Hundred Claws rebounded at once from every side, dozens of claw-shaped phantoms striking toward her.

Zhu Zhuqing's pupils contracted. She forced her body around and lashed out with both claws, deflecting the dozens of claw-shadows one by one. The clanging of metal on metal rang out in a dense patter like rain. Surrounded by claw-shadows, she struggled to fend them off, barely holding on.

By the time she blocked the final claw, her Soul Power was spent. Her legs gave way, and she dropped to her knees, gasping for breath.

Wang Lin lowered his finger. The Heavenly Inverse Bead slowly sank back between his brows, and its gray-white light faded. The training ground returned to its normal colors. He looked down at Zhu Zhuqing, kneeling before him, and said calmly, "You surrender."

Zhu Zhuqing raised her head and looked at Wang Lin. Her lips trembled with anger—anger at herself. She had lost, completely and utterly, without even touching her opponent. After a long silence, she gritted her teeth and said the two words: "I surrender."

The whole place fell silent. No one spoke or moved. Everyone stared at Wang Lin as if he were something that didn't belong in this world.

Dai Mubai's face was as white as paper. The moment Wang Lin released the Heavenly Inverse Bead, Dai Mubai's White Tiger Martial Soul had begun to stir uneasily, as if it had encountered its natural enemy. He turned to look at Tang San, whose expression was even worse.

Yu Xiaogang's voice rang out in the hall, trembling with a rare, barely restrained quaver. "This ability... is too strange. A weapon of causality is theoretically impossible to defend against. You can't dodge it just by being fast, and you can't withstand it just by being well-defended. The meaning of causality is that the result is decided before the cause.

"Why couldn't you hit him? It wasn't because Wang Lin dodged. It was because the result—that you would miss—had already been determined. That's what makes it so terrifying."

Flender walked down from the viewing platform and stopped in front of Wang Lin. He looked into Wang Lin's eyes, and Wang Lin looked back. There was no humility or reverence in his gray-white gaze, not even the slightest emotion.

"Wang Lin, what exactly is your Martial Soul?" Flender asked.

The corner of Wang Lin's mouth lifted slightly. "This venerable one already said, this venerable one doesn't need a Martial Soul."

His voice was calm, but that calm carried more force than a roar. "This venerable one is the strongest."

Xiao Yan leaned against the wall, looking as if he'd swallowed a fly. He remembered his earlier remark, "Tch, what's so great about him?" Suddenly, he felt that mouth of his really ought to be sewn shut.

Wang Lin's gaze shifted to him and settled on Xiao Yan's face. "Want to try?" he asked lightly.

Xiao Yan opened his mouth. He wanted to say, "If you want to fight, then let's fight," or "The river shifts east for thirty years and west for thirty years," or something else to save face.

But the words all died on his tongue. He had seen the seriousness in Wang Lin's eyes. If he said yes, Wang Lin would really fight him.

Xiao Yan quietly shut his mouth. He ground his back teeth and cursed himself a hundred times in his heart for having a smart mouth, but he had to admit that he couldn't handle the Power of Cause and Effect as he was now.

Han Li stood in the farthest corner at the edge of the training ground. He hadn't said a word from beginning to end.

His eyes had stayed fixed on the spot between Wang Lin's brows where the Heavenly Inverse Bead had vanished. His pupils narrowed slightly. This man was extremely dangerous, he judged. He had to keep his distance and avoid making an enemy of him.

The Heavenly Inverse Bead... This item was no simple thing. It didn't belong in this world. If his guess was right, like his own Heavenly Bottle, it came from a higher-level world.

Shi Hao sprang out from behind Han Li like a cat that had spotted a new toy.

His eyes shone like stars. He bounced excitedly twice on the spot. "Wang Lin, I want to fight you!"

Wang Lin didn't look at him.

"Did you hear me? I want to fight you!" Shi Hao bounced again.

Wang Lin finally turned his head and glanced at Shi Hao. His gray-white eyes rested on Shi Hao's face for a second, then moved away. "This venerable one refuses."

Shi Hao froze, his excitement turning to confusion. "Why?"

"Because you're too crazy. This venerable one doesn't want to catch your madness." Wang Lin turned and walked away, his white robe swaying gently in the breeze, his stride as unhurried as if he were strolling through his own backyard.

Shi Hao stood there with his mouth agape and his eyes wide, confusion turning to hurt. I'm crazy? How am I crazy? I just want to fight!

Tang San stood in the farthest corner of the training ground and watched Wang Lin and Zhu Zhuqing's entire match, from Zhu Zhuqing's attacks to their strange deflection, their rebound, and finally her kneeling surrender.

He watched more carefully than anyone and remembered more clearly than anyone, because he wanted to know just how vast the gap between him and Wang Lin was.

After watching, he understood. It wasn't ten times or a hundred times. They weren't even on the same level.

At least Han Li's formations could still be broken with brute force; at least Xiao Yan's Heavenly Flames could be countered with water; at least Shi Hao's physical body could be suppressed with speed. But Wang Lin's causality... how could he counter that? If you couldn't even touch him, how could you beat him?

He returned to the dormitory, took off his shoes, climbed into bed, and pulled the covers over his head. He curled into a ball. It was dark and quiet under the blanket, quiet enough that he could hear his own heartbeat.

When Xiao Wu pushed open the door, this was what she saw: Third Brother huddled under the covers, all puffed up like a hibernating bear.

"Third Brother? Why are you crying again?" Xiao Wu walked over and pulled back the covers. Tang San's face appeared, his eyes and nose red, tear tracks still wet on his cheeks.

"I'm weak!" Tang San said in a muffled voice.

Looking at Tang San like that, Xiao Wu felt both sorry for him and amused. She crouched down and gently wiped the tear tracks from his face, her voice soft as she coaxed a child. "You've been weak for more than just today."

Tang San's tears welled up again. He suddenly sat up and grabbed Xiao Wu, burying his face in her shoulder. "Resurrect, My Love!" he bellowed. The sound was so loud that it echoed off the dormitory walls.

Xiao Wu was trapped in his arms, and a huge patch of her shoulder was smeared with his tears and snot. She sighed up at the ceiling, her voice full of helplessness. "Third Brother, I'm right here in front of you. Why do you need to resurrect me...?"

Tang San buried his face even deeper. Resurrect, My Love. Resurrect, My Love. Resurrect, My Love.

He repeated it silently three times, not daring to say it out loud because he was afraid Xiao Wu would slap him again. But he really wanted to shout it. For some reason, whenever those four completely crushed him, whenever he felt like a worthless loser, shouting those six words made him feel a little better.

Night deepened. Most of the lights in Shrek Academy's dormitory building had gone out, but the light in the four-person dorm was still on. Xiao Yan was cultivating his Heavenly Flames, Shi Hao was doing push-ups, and Han Li was meditating.

Wang Lin sat on the windowsill, moonlight falling on his pale face. The Heavenly Inverse Bead slowly revolved between his brows. He looked out at the sleeping academy, the corner of his mouth curling into a meaningful smile. This venerable one didn't need a Martial Soul. This venerable one was the strongest.

He had said those words today, and everyone had heard. No one had contradicted him because they couldn't. But what they didn't know was that Wang Lin's power went far beyond what he had shown today.

Wang Lin hadn't even displayed one-tenth of his strength today—not because he didn't want to, but because he couldn't. The rules of this world suppressed him too severely.

But it didn't matter. Wang Lin closed his eyes. This venerable one had all the time in the world. The Dao of Causality was never mastered in a single day.

This venerable one had already seen several key threads of causality in this world. One of them led to a place called Spirit Hall. The thread was so thick it made the heart tremble, bound to tens of thousands of lives, to blood and fire, life and death, sin and punishment.

The corner of Wang Lin's mouth curled into a cold smile. Such immense cause and effect—this venerable one was very interested.

If he could deal with this thread of causality, he would be the number-one version of himself. Maybe in this world, he could also use a drop of his blood to create his younger self, then call himself Dad. At least that would give him more fun here.

"This venerable one is still invincible under heaven. If this world weren't holding me back, I'd have already reached the Ultimate Realm with a single glance and slain the heavens, earth, and even the air."