Decaying World-Chapter 26

With a heavy heart, Lin Hui returned home to inform his parents of the situation. The next day, he visited the medical clinic again, but found it empty. He had no choice but to return to the Clear Wind Temple.
Before leaving, he slipped some money to a pharmacist at the clinic, buying a promise that word would be sent to the Clear Wind Temple immediately if there was any news.
Then, he packed his bags and went back.
During this period, he had also tried to track down the two friends his cousin had introduced him to, but both resided in the Inner City. Although they maintained contact points in the Outer City, Lin Hui’s letters went unanswered, sinking like stones into a deep pond.
He suspected those two might have been present that night as well, perhaps injured in the attack.
Back at the Clear Wind Temple, he restrained his wandering thoughts as best he could and resumed the dull, repetitive grind of bitter sword practice.
In the blink of an eye, a month passed.
Winter had fully set in. Fine, fragmented snowflakes drifted obliquely with the wind, dyeing the rooftops of the Clear Wind Temple a layer of stark, desolate white.
As the end of the year approached, the annual festival of celebration, First Winter, was imminent.
The people of Tuyue held a long-standing custom of celebrating the harvest and peering into the future at the year's end. The First Winter Festival was exactly such an occasion—a ritual of hope in a hopeless world.
Correspondingly, the Daoist temple was preparing to hold its annual internal Grand Competition to determine the disciples' rankings and distribute New Year’s prizes.
There was only one day left before the First Winter Festival.
Lin Hui pushed open the door and stepped out of his room. He saw people everywhere, hanging black paper flowers under the eaves—one of the most common, yet eerie, decorations for the festival.
His living quarters were located in a row of wing rooms on one side of the Front Courtyard. He dwelled there with more than ten other Front Courtyard disciples.
At this moment, like him, other disciples were emerging one after another. Seeing the temple adorned in its festive, funereal black decorations, the hardened expressions on their faces softened involuntarily.
Standing there, Lin Hui noticed that both in the Front Courtyard and outside the main hall, many students from the Rear Courtyard had been conscripted to help with the labor.
Young Daoist attendants scurried about, directing and arranging, while the logistics Daoists were already erecting something resembling a fighting ring in the center of the Front Courtyard.
Thick wooden stakes were driven into the earth, and sheets of gray canvas were propped up to shield the stage against the biting wind, rain, and snow.
Lin Hui didn't see Daoist Mingde or the other two managers. He walked a few steps, scanned the area, and finally spotted Mingde and Mingchen sitting cross-legged on a corner of the temple roof, swigging from wineskins and boasting to each other against the gray sky.
Speechless, he carried his sword directly outside the Daoist temple, found a secluded corner, and began his daily practice.
As of today, his Body Tempering through the Seven-Section Swift Sword had successfully risen to the 4th Rank.
That meant he was now on the same level as Huang Shan and the others. The perfect version of the Seven-Section Swift Sword was, without a doubt, more potent in its tempering effects than the flawed versions practiced by anyone else.
Lin Hui clearly felt that his control over swordsmanship and his precision were improving naturally, the muscle memory etching itself deeper into his bones.
At the same time, his application of the Lightness effect became increasingly proficient, stabilizing at a rhythm of one second of use followed by a two-second interval. As long as he maintained this rhythm, he could sustain the burst indefinitely.
The sealing toxin had also been integrated more smoothly into his actual swordplay. The toxin took effect for one second, followed by a two-second cooldown—perfectly synchronized with the Lightness effect. This allowed Lin Hui to blend it seamlessly into the rhythm of his burst attacks.
He named this sudden burst of speed overlaid with the sealing effect: Shadow Strike.
It was named so because when this move exploded forth, the speed was so great that even he couldn't see the specific sword shadow.
Standing under the shade of the tree at his old spot, Lin Hui slowly practiced the body-tempering Seven-Section Swift Sword.
Ten consecutive repetitions, flawless and perfect. Body Tempering concluded. Then came the Nine-Section Swift Sword. Unknowingly, several young disciples had gathered not far from him.
Attracted by the unnatural precision of Lin Hui’s sword forms, they couldn't help but stop and watch.
"This Senior Brother's swordsmanship seems... better looking than the other Front Courtyard Senior Brothers and Sisters..."
"Indeed. It feels more precise. Every move and stance has a feeling of 'it should be exactly like this'."
"I feel the same way. It looks very stable, very accurate. Like a machine, without a single flaw."
"Does anyone know this Senior Brother's name?"
"It's Senior Brother Lin Hui, who was promoted only a few months ago. I knew Chen Zhishen before, and he’s on good terms with Senior Brother Lin. I heard him mention..."
"Didn't Senior Brother Lin just get promoted? How come..."
"Shh... he's stopping. Don't discuss people right in their face."
Lin Hui slowly retracted his sword. It wasn't that he was disturbed by the surrounding people; with his current concentration, such noise couldn't affect his state at all.
The real reason was that he saw two people approaching him from a distance.
One tall, one short. The tall one was none other than Chen Zhishen, whom he hadn't seen for a long time.
He was holding the hand of a teenager who bore a few similarities to him, walking briskly toward Lin Hui.
Still more than ten meters away, Chen Zhishen called out loudly, wearing a grin that seemed out of place in the cold.
"A-Hui! Looks like you're doing well! Did you miss me?"
Lin Hui’s expression turned odd. This guy was obviously living a nourished life; the old Chen Zhishen, who always looked bitter and burdened, could never have said such things.
"Miss you my ass. Did you eat pig feed? How did you get fat so fast??"
He saw that the guy's chin was about to develop a second fold. He had gained at least thirty
jin
since leaving Clear Wind Temple.
"Watch your mouth," Chen Zhishen's smile stalled. "It's all because the benefits Senior Brother Zhao gives are too good. The days are leisurely—drinking a little wine every day, going out to roll some dice, occasionally running a mission. It's incredibly comfortable."
"Then what are you doing back here?" Lin Hui was speechless. Looking at his out-of-shape figure, he knew this guy had definitely neglected his sword practice.
"My nephew paid the fee to enter the temple, so I brought him over to let you have a look. For my sake, if there's really an issue, how about you lend a hand?" Chen Zhishen practiced a familiar backhand toss, throwing out a silver bill.
Lin Hui reached out and caught it precisely. He glanced at it—one thousand coins.
"Fine. Friendship price. But don't come bother me if it's nothing."
He didn't even have enough time for his own cultivation. If the other party came to him for trivial matters, he definitely wouldn't do it.
"That's for sure." Chen Zhishen nodded with a smile, then pulled the teenager closer and gave the back of the boy's head a firm slap.
"Come on, call him Uncle! From now on, he is your Uncle Lin. If you run into real trouble at Clear Wind Temple and can't reach me, find your Uncle Lin. Understand?"
"Hello, Uncle Lin." The teenager looked dazed and clumsy, possessing the simplicity and honesty typical of farm folk.
"Mn. What's his name? I'll greet a few acquaintances later," Lin Hui nodded, his expression softening.
"His name is Chen Jiahu. Nickname Xiao Hu. You can also call him A-Hu. If you need any chores done, just ask him. This kid is strong—an excellent worker back home," Chen Zhishen laughed.
"That's good. I just happen to need someone to run errands," Lin Hui replied with a smile.
Looking at Xiao Hu, he couldn’t help but think of how his cousin, Lin Hongzhen, had done the same thing some time ago—introducing him to her good friends. Yet now, his cousin still hadn't regained consciousness.
A few days earlier, he had written to his eldest uncle for an update. The reply was bleak: Lin Hongzhen remained in a coma. The sect had given up on her treatment and had sent her home. Although her physical injuries had healed, her mind had suffered a grave shock. No one could say when, or if, she would ever wake again.
The Rain Palace had spent a lot of resources and money. Treating her to this extent was already the utmost benevolence.
Whether she could wake up later depended entirely on the will of Heaven.
Thinking of this, Lin Hui's smile faded unconsciously. Recalling how his cousin used to treat him, his heart felt heavy.
Seeing his expression change, Chen Zhishen's smile vanished, and he asked in a low voice, "Is it about the Green Ink Tower incident last month? I heard about it too."
Xinyu Town was only so big. The Lin family's affairs had long spread, so even Chen Zhishen, who always paid attention to the Lin family, had heard about it in the neighboring town.
"Senior Brother Zhao mentioned that this is a hurdle for the Lin family. But didn't your family already cut ties with the main branch?"
"The person who was injured had a good relationship with me," Lin Hui replied simply. "Fate is unpredictable. Let's not talk about this. Staying to watch the battles later?"
"The Grand Competition? Of course. I came specifically for this." Chen Zhishen smiled.
"You just said you came to see me and introduce your nephew to pay respects."
"Can't you understand polite pleasantries?"
The two resumed their smiles and walked into the main hall together.
The main hall of Clear Wind Temple was spacious. At this moment, disciples were already registering and organizing the outsiders coming to watch.
Heads bobbed in the crowd. Aside from the returning old disciples, the registration area also hosted a few family members and invited guests from other martial halls.
One glance revealed no fewer than a hundred people.
After accompanying Chen Zhishen through registration, the latter took his nephew to pay respects to other acquaintances. Lin Hui returned to his room to adjust his condition, waiting for the Grand Competition to begin.
This time, having reached the 4th Rank of Body Tempering, he intended to reveal a bit of his strength to elevate his position within Clear Wind Temple.
In his view, hiding strength only meant hiding trump cards. True strength didn't need to be hidden; displaying it was the only way to fight for more resources and preferential treatment.
Use more resources to achieve more growth, then continue the cycle, creating a snowball effect. This was the fastest way to grow strong.
As long as he wasn't too conspicuous and didn't attract too much attention, it would be fine.
By morning, the arrangements were complete. All disciples were summoned. They put on a show of worshiping the Patriarch of Clear Wind Pavilion, lit the great incense in the large cauldron on the school grounds, struck the brass gongs arranged around the perimeter, and finally ignited the bonfire piled outside the Daoist temple.
Fire and smoke surged into the overcast sky.
On the newly erected ring, a half-grown female Daoist attendant dressed in a snow-white Daoist robe, her hair tied in two ram's horn braids, held black paper flowers and sang the ballad celebrating the First Winter Festival in a loud voice.
The a cappella child's voice was clear and melodious, piercing the cold air, seemingly capable of cleansing the soul of its accumulated grime.
After the song came a troupe specifically hired by the temple to perform acrobatics and plays. For a time, the beating of gongs and drums was incredibly lively, a frantic burst of noise against the silent winter.
The noise lasted for over two hours. At noon, the feast began. Tables and chairs were set up around the ring in the school grounds, and a flowing banquet was served continuously.
First Senior Brother Chen Sui, Second Senior Brother Zhao Jiang'an, and First Senior Sister Mu Qiaozhi, who hadn't been seen for a long time, all appeared at the scene.
Daoist Baohe toasted everyone with wine to wish them blessings for the New Year, and the crowd returned the gesture.
After eating and drinking, it was finally time for the main event—the Grand Competition.
Huishen, the Daoist attendant of Mingde, took the stage to read out the specific rules of the competition. After the internal matches, there would be exchange battles with guests from other martial halls.
The tables and chairs around were quickly removed, replaced by wooden trapezoidal spectator stands moved in and arranged neatly around the ring.
The logistics Daoists prepared sets of standardized, pure white Daoist combat uniforms for unified use in the ring.
All Front Courtyard disciples received their uniforms and went back to change.
Ten minutes later, all preparations were complete.
Clang.
A gong sounded. The Grand Competition officially began.
Lin Hui stood below the stage, gripping his sword, calculating the rank he could achieve this time. If he could squeeze into the top ten, he could truly access many tasks that were far better than before.
Clear Wind Temple would also tilt extra resources toward the top ten elite disciples. The monthly subsidy was quite substantial.
Theoretically, the top ten disciples represented the face of Clear Wind Temple. They were the ones taken out frequently to exchange and spar with other martial halls. That was why resources had to be spent to help them grow.
And being in the top ten elites meant breaking away from the category of ordinary disciples, possessing the potential to cultivate the Clear Wind Sword Technique to the 9th Rank of Body Tempering in the future.
The 9th Rank of Body Tempering. One step further up was the level of experts with titles like the 'Ming' generation Daoists.
Even the elites of the three major Inner City powers had to treat this level with care. Because this was strength on the same tier.
In fact, Lin Hui had once asked Daoist Mingde about the level above the 9th Rank of Body Tempering.
Mingde’s answer was simple—
“From outside to inside, force is generated from within.”
Lin Hui set his temporary goal at reaching the Internal Force Realm. He believed that perhaps it was only upon attaining this level that he would possess a measure of self-preservation in this decaying world.