Limitless Cultivation System: From Trash to Immortal

Lin Xuan filed the name in the part of his memory he kept locked.

"It is a privilege that a prince knows my name, Elder."

"Prince Wei Tianlong wishes the best for the empire, Young Master. He believes good relations are the spine of a stable transition. I imagine you are aware of the position your father took."

Lin Xuan knew. Lin Zhen had supported the Third Princess, Wei Xinhua, quietly. Whether by personal preference or strategic calculation, the household never said. But it was a known fact within the walls of Skyedge.

He decided, for this elder, to be a boy who knew nothing.

"I know my father traveled to the capital. I was told it was about my illness. He returned with a treatment. I have not asked beyond that."

The elder studied him. Lin Xuan could feel the study. The elder was weighing whether the boy in front of him was an idiot or a strategist. The elder did not enjoy the answer he was reaching.

"Of course. Forgive my assumption. Allow me to share another piece of information, since the family knowledge gap is wider than I had assumed."

A long inhale.

"Your stepmother. The Lady Mei. She has, for some years, maintained a private correspondence with the Blood Fang Sect."

The bowl of soup on the low table stopped being a bowl of soup for Lin Xuan. His attention had moved entirely to the man across the cushion.

"Blood Fang Sect?"

"The same. The very sect that, I am told, has attempted to remove you from this world on more than one occasion."

Lin Xuan produced the second polite surprise of the morning. Inside, a quiet bell rang.

’Mira. He knows.’

[ He does. ]

’How does he know?’

[ That is precisely the question. ]

The elder pressed on.

"Prince Wei Tianlong holds the means to act against the Blood Fang Sect. He also holds the means to deliver the Lady Mei the consequences her conduct has earned. These are not promises. These are statements of capacity. The Prince does not waste sentences."

A long pause. The elder allowed the offer to rest on the table beside the cup of tea Lin Xuan had not poured.

Lin Xuan kept his face open and quiet. Inside, the wheels turned fast.

’Mira.’

[ Reading. Either he is telling you the truth and the Second Prince has unusually deep intelligence on a regional sect’s domestic affairs, or he is telling a half-truth. ]

’What if the Second Prince controls the Blood Fang Sect through Madam Mei? What if he is running both ends?’

[ That is also a pattern on the board, Xuan. I cannot exclude it. ]

’Then accepting his protection is putting the wolf at the henhouse door and asking the wolf for the guard schedule.’

[ It is one pattern. Other patterns are worth considering before you decline. ]

The elder leaned in by a fraction. Lin Xuan brought the open face back.

"So, Young Master. I take it we have a mutual understanding? The Prince would welcome a future meeting with you."

Lin Xuan bowed at the formal angle his father had taught him at the age of seven.

"Elder Zhao. I am sincerely grateful for the time you have given me and the information you have brought into my house. It has been an honor to receive you."

The elder lifted the rim of an absent teacup toward his mouth before he caught himself.

"However. Tomorrow I have a combat that asks every breath of preparation I can muster. I am going to ask your leave to withdraw and continue my meditation."

The pause that fell over the room was the longest of the morning.

"Young Master Lin Xuan. I was expecting an answer."

"And I am giving you one, Elder Zhao. I am not giving you the answer you were preparing to receive. I will not commit to anything today. I will not have the conversation about Skyedge’s future during the week of a tournament I have not yet finished winning."

The elder set the imaginary cup down. His mouth tightened, relaxed by a careful degree.

"I confess. I was not expecting that."

"I beg you not to be offended, Elder."

"I am not offended. I am corrected. There is a difference, and the difference falls in your favor."

He rose slowly, the bandage along his ribs holding him to the careful angle his body asked of him.

"Tomorrow is the final, Young Master. I will be in the rings. Whether you win or lose, you have time to change your mind. It is very early yet in your career."

He bowed. Lin Xuan bowed.

The elder turned and was gone.

Lin Xuan closed the door behind him and rested his shoulder against the frame. Outside, the patio carried the rhythm of Wei drilling Form 2 over and over, the boy forging himself into a tool out there.

[ Are you sure this is the right decision, Xuan? Aligning with the Second Prince now could give us tangible benefits. Protection over Skyedge is not a small promise. ]

’I do not know what to tell you, Mira. It smells wrong. How does Zhao know that Madam Mei and Blood Fang have a connection? That should be private. He has it anyway. I understand he speaks for the empire, but there ought to be a limit on what an outsider knows about a regional sect’s internal mess. He has more than that limit.’

The Ethan irony stayed inside its box.

’And I want to meet the others. My father has already chosen to support the Third Princess. If the Second Prince knows that, and we agree to a side meeting, and the Second Prince decides our family is unreliable later, he can betray us with the cleanest of consciences he owns. Committing to the Second Prince today means closing all the other doors before I know if any of the others were better for Skyedge. I am not going to do that until I know what is behind the other doors.’

Mira did not answer.

The panel at the corner of his vision shifted by a small spacing — a single beat where it acknowledged his words without a kaomoji, without a comment. Just a quiet line of register that had not been there before.

She had been surprised.

He had not planned the answer.

The answer had been waiting inside him long enough that it had come out fully formed without needing his permission.

He lowered himself onto the cushion. Plain Steel rested at his side. The window stayed open and the cadence of Wei’s drill filled the space.

He closed his eyes.

The geometry of the Pavilion of Stillness fell into place behind his eyelids. The four pillars. The roof. The compressed space inside. He walked himself through it from inside the cage and out, the way he was going to walk himself through it tomorrow. By the seventh repetition, the cage had a seam he had not noticed the day before.

Plain Steel hummed once at his side.

Tomorrow waited.