Shen Yuan entered his dwelling as a soft flicker of a lone candle illuminated the room as he sat at his desk, a faint smirk playing on his lips. The elder’s words he overheard still echoed in his mind. Each phrase, each pause, and each veiled threat painted a clear picture: their greed and ambition were their greatest weaknesses. He leaned back, eyes narrowing as his thoughts swirled.

“They want chaos,” he murmured, his voice low but sharp. “Let’s give it to them. But on my terms. After all… disciples should give their elders what they want, hahaha.”

Shen Yuan unfolded a blank scroll and began sketching out the pieces of his plan. He worked methodically, treating this scheme as though it were a cultivation formation, each step precise and interconnected.

First Point, the elders believed Shen Yuan was a threat, but he needed them to underestimate him just enough to act recklessly. He decided to show an intentional vulnerability.

Second Point, Shen Yuan would create the illusion of a powerful treasure hidden in the sect, something they would covet. It needed to be subtle but convincing enough to push them into action.

Lastly, using their existing half assed trust, Shen Yuan would orchestrate events that made them doubt one another’s intentions. Suspicion would fracture their unity.

Once the framework was complete, Shen Yuan gathered his tools, talismans, powdered spirit stones, and shards of Yin-infused crystal he had unknowingly forged from his aura during cultivation. Each item was meticulously crafted to give off a faint aura of mystery, enough to tempt even the most disciplined elder. Especially the Yin-infused crystals, as they gave off an even mysterious aura.

Without wasting any more time, Shen Yuan left.

In the dead of night, Shen Yuan moved like a phantom through the sect. His mastery of shadow allowed him to slip unnoticed into the deepest corners of the sect's hidden library. He knew of a secret chamber that had remained unused for centuries, a perfect location for planting his bait.

As he effortlessly bypassed the defensive arrays of the library and entered the hidden chamber, he placed the shards of Yin crystal in the chamber, arranging them in a pattern that resembled an ancient formation. The faint energy they emitted pulsed rhythmically, just enough to be sensed by a passing elder but too faint to be recognized immediately.

Nearby, he left a series of faint scorch marks and claw-like scratches on the stone floor to mimic signs of a disturbance.

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Before leaving, he inscribed a cryptic message on the wall using a diluted mixture of spirit ink: “The Relic Awakens.”

By the next morning, The next part of his plan was in motion. Disguised in shadows, he intercepted conversations, planting seeds of doubt.

“To think, the elders are hiding something so powerful in the sect,” he whispered into the ears of a group of senior disciples.

“It’s said the one who claims it could surpass even the Sect Master,” he murmured to another group, careful to keep his voice low and ethereal.

The rumours spread like wildfire. By the time of afternoon, whispers of a hidden treasure had reached the elders’ ears. Just as Shen Yuan had planned.

Days later, Shen Yuan feigned exhaustion as he made a public appearance in the training courtyard. His complexion was deliberately pale, and his movements sluggish, giving the impression of overexertion. He allowed himself to be seen meditating under a tree, his aura fluctuating erratically.

“Let them think I’m vulnerable,” he thought. “They’ll assume I’ve been weakened by my attempts to cultivate too quickly.”

But in reality, he had hit the place of his chest where the heart is intentionally, to cause a temporary cardiac attack.

The elder who instigated the whole mess, one of the more reckless of the group, observed him from a distance. Shen Yuan could feel the elder’s gaze, burning with a mix of contempt and greed. It was only a matter of time before the bait was taken.

That evening, Shen Yuan returned to his abode after the cardiac attack subsided and waited, his senses attuned to the movements around the sect. As anticipated, the elder who wants to refine him the most had convinced two others to investigate the supposed hidden treasure.

Shen Yuan smirked as he sensed their approach to the hidden chamber. “Predictable oldies,” he muttered.

As the elders entered the chamber, the shards of yin crystal reacted, releasing a burst of energy that filled the room with an eerie black mist. The formation Shen Yuan had designed created the illusion of an ancient seal breaking, and faint whispers echoed through the air, disembodied voices warning of dire consequences.

The elders, blinded by ambition, ignored the warnings. The elder, who wanted to refine Shen Yuan, also known as Elder Mo, reached out to claim one of the shards, but as his hand made contact, the formation activated a defensive mechanism Shen Yuan had imbued. A pulse of energy lashed out, knocking the elder back and creating the illusion that the treasure was cursed.

Panicked, the other elder immediately turned on the Elder Mo. “You fool! What did you trigger?!”

Another elder, unnerved by the escalating chaos, tried to calm them, but their words fell on deaf ears. Tensions flared, and within moments, the chamber descended into accusations and threats.

From the shadows, Shen Yuan watched with a cold smile, his presence undetectable. “Let them destroy each other,” he thought. “I don’t need to lift a finger!”

By the time the chaos subsided, the elders had irreparably damaged their alliances. The Elder Mo recklessness had cost him the trust of the others, and the other’s accusations left lingering doubts. The last elder who was silently observing, though less vocal, would undoubtedly begin to plot their own moves in secret.

In Shen Yuan’s dwelling.

His plan was a resounding success. He sat in meditation, his thoughts calm and focused. “This is just the beginning,” he murmured to himself. “If the elders can’t see the strings, they deserve to be my puppets.”