On top of a peak filled with countless sculptures and wood waste, the sect Elders gathered outside a residence to discuss their next steps.

“Who do they think they are? Those stubborn fools!” an Elder hollered. “They dared to beat up our disciple and then claimed it was just sparring!”

After the incident, a few Elders confronted the Sun Sect, demanding an explanation. The Sun Sword Sect's curt response was, "It was only a sparring between disciples."

“We can't let this go, We must send our disciples as well,” another Elder declared.

Despite his determination, the Elder knew their disciples were vastly outnumbered compared to the Sun Sword Sect.

The courtyard buzzed with heated discussions until the door to the residence slid open, and silence fell as a figure emerged. Every Elder turned their gaze toward the newcomer, who wore a curtained bamboo hat that concealed his face.

This was the newly appointed sixth Elder, and this was his peak. None of the Elders had seen his face; he never removed the hat, and they dared not pry with their spiritual senses.

“What is your opinion on what action should be taken?” an Elder asked.

“I don’t have any,” the sixth Elder replied.

One Elder, dissatisfied, pressed further. “What? You won’t comment on this matter? It's your disciple, Elder Zen.”

“It was his fight; who am I to interfere?” stated Elder Zen. “He was weak and got beaten by someone stronger.”

“But Elder Zen, from what I heard, you haven’t taught him anything other than making him carry logs.”

“…” Elder Zen remained silent for a moment before responding. “That is a form of training. I don’t want him to rely on others.”

After a brief exchange with Elder Zen, the crowd dispersed, most of them grumbling about his indifferent attitude.

Inside the room, Lin Mo lay motionless.

“Wake up.” Master Zen's voice broke the silence.

“I knew I couldn’t hide from you, Master,” Lin Mo said, opening his eyes.

“You made those old fogies worry for no reason,” Master Zen said.

Lin Mo hadn't sustained any major injuries, just a few cuts and bruises. His unconsciousness was merely an act.

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

He laughed wryly. He hadn't anticipated his small act would provoke such a strong reaction from the Elders.

“It’s good; your body is adapting to pain,” Master Zen stated. “But don’t overdo it.”

Nodding, Lin Mo asked, “Master, when can I have a sword?”

Master Zen pondered for a moment before replying, “After you open your second dragon gate.”

For some reason, his master had yet to bestow an actual sword upon him. So far, he had been training with dummy swords. Meanwhile, his apprentice brother Wu had received a weapon when he joined the sect.

“Many thanks, Master,” Lin Mo beamed. “Then I will open the second gate very soon.”

The Dragon Gate was a secret technique taught by his master, greatly enhancing his physical strength.

According to Master Zen, there were seven gates to this technique:

Life Gate,

Healing Gate,

Wonder Gate,

Death Gate,

Spirit Gate,

Soul Gate, and

the Gate of Transformation.

So far, Lin Mo had only opened the Life Gate and had a long journey ahead.

“You’ve grown rapidly. Focus on stabilizing your foundation, or it might affect your future breakthroughs,” Master Zen paused. “Follow me.”

The two entered the backyard, a place Lin Mo had never seen before.

Upon entering the backyard, Lin Mo stood frozen, staring ahead. “These are…”

Five human-sized sculptures stood before him, their lifelike countenances carved from distinctive redwood.

Then, something else caught his eye—a pond filled with sparkling water that seemed ethereal.

“Master, is this spiritual liquid?” Lin Mo asked.

In the cultivation world, practitioners considered spiritual liquids superior to spiritual stones due to their formation through extreme condensation.

Master Zen nodded and gestured for him to sit on a stone near the pond. “Use this opportunity to stabilize your foundation.”

Lin Mo followed his master's instructions and began cultivating by the pond.

In a few days, he broke through to the next minor realm, reaching the Mid-foundation stage.

Before leaving his master's residence, Master Zen handed him a small wooden sword. “It will protect you when your life is in danger.”

“A wooden sword?” Lin Mo examined it curiously.

'How could this small sword protect me? Perhaps it's some sort of charm?' he thought but didn’t voice his doubts.

He bowed and thanked his master before leaving the courtyard.

Master Zen remained alone in the courtyard, deep in contemplation.

“This time for sure,” he muttered, holding a circular disk with five-star patterns. “I will make you come out if you don't show up yourself.”

On the disk, Only the first two of the five-star patterns were lit.

“Soon enough…”