Chapter 12: Training, Training, and More Training

Pang Dahai’s tone was laden with mockery, and his gaze at Li Qing was like looking at a clown. This made Li Qing’s face turn unusually grim, flushing from pale to ashen, his knuckles cracking as he clenched his hands tightly.

But there was no other choice. At this moment, he could only lower his head and force a smile, like a lapdog wagging its tail, begging Pang Dahai for help. Otherwise, he dared not imagine the fate that awaited him if Qin Cang learned of his failed mission.

“Master Pang, don’t forget, I’m working for Master Qin. It doesn’t matter if you look down on me, but if you delay Master Qin’s matters, what will you say when he gets angry?”

Seeing Pang Dahai refuse to help, Li Qing had no choice but to lean on Qin Cang’s authority to intimidate him.

Yet, to his surprise, Pang Dahai only sneered more deeply after hearing this.

“You don’t really think the Young Master doesn’t know about your failure, do you?”

“I reported it to him yesterday. The Young Master told me to tell you not to handle this matter anymore and to wait for further instructions.”

“What! You—”

Li Qing’s shock made him lift his head abruptly. At that moment, he no longer cared about showing respect, his eyes fixed fiercely on Pang Dahai, his face darkening to the extreme.

“You stabbed me in the back!”

“Hah, what kind of scum do you think you are to deserve my betrayal?”

“You’re nothing but a worthless piece of trash!”

“In the past, out of respect for the Young Master, I gave you some face, but you really thought you were someone important.”

“Trash belongs in the garbage heap. Do you think you can latch onto someone as exceptional as the Young Master Qin Cang?”

Pang Dahai slammed the teacup down on the table, an overwhelming aura radiating from him. Instantly, Li Qing felt as if he were bearing the weight of a mountain, his footing faltering, nearly collapsing to the floor.

Seeing this, the smile on Pang Dahai’s face grew even more satisfied.

Some people, after enduring storms, like to shelter others.

Others, after weathering storms, want nothing more than to tear others’ umbrellas to shreds.

Pang Dahai was undoubtedly the latter.

He had risen by clinging to the Qin family’s scion’s coat-tails.

Now, seeing Li Qing—a kindred spirit by fate—he felt no camaraderie, only unbearable irritation.

A piece of trash—how dare he walk the same path as me?

Especially since Li Qing had the privilege of holding onto the Young Master Qin Cang’s leg, who had far greater prospects than Pang Dahai’s former master.

If Li Qing were allowed to develop smoothly, he might even surpass him one day.

How could Pang Dahai tolerate that? So when he heard of Li Qing’s failure, he immediately reported it to Qin Cang.

As expected, the bigwigs above didn’t care about the process, only the outcome.

Success earned rewards; failure meant punishment.

Qin Cang didn’t care why the mission failed—he only knew Li Qing had botched it. Without hesitation, he cast Li Qing aside and handed the matter over to Pang Dahai.

As for Li Qing, Qin Cang had no time for him; he was busy preparing for his grand wedding.

“No, this can’t be! I’ve bled for Master Qin; he wouldn’t abandon me. You’re lying, it must be you who’s lying!”

Li Qing roared at Pang Dahai, unwilling to accept the outcome.

For a lowly wanderer like him, serving a high-ranking figure was a golden opportunity.

Now that it seemed lost, he would be dragged back to the muddy depths, forced to struggle desperately.

How could he bear it?

Seeing Li Qing’s crazed expression, Pang Dahai’s face darkened sharply, coldness radiating from him.

“Who do you think you are, yelling and making a scene before me? You’re begging for death!”

With that, Pang Dahai summoned his spiritual energy to form a massive hand, slapping Li Qing fiercely and sending him flying.

Li Qing’s face was drenched in blood; teeth shattered and scattered. A pained scream escaped his lips.

Pang Dahai looked down on him with disdain. If Qin Cang hadn’t yet decided what to do with Li Qing, he would have ended him then and there.

“Guards,” Pang Dahai called out scornfully.

At his command, the door to the loft opened, and a subordinate entered.

“Throw him in the dungeon. Make sure you don’t kill him.”

“Yes, Master Pang!”

The subordinate responded swiftly, grabbing Li Qing by the collar and dragging him out like a dead dog.

As they left, Pang Dahai added, “Also, arrange a dinner with Chief Wang of the Enforcement Team at the Wan Hua Pavilion. Set it for tonight at a quarter past the hour of the dog.”

“Yes, Master Pang!”

The subordinate nodded again before departing.

Left alone in the room, Pang Dahai hummed a light tune, feeling content.

Dealing with lowly wanderers like Wang Chen was easy for him.

Direct confrontation was the lowest option. With his status, influence, and strength, he could crush such wanderers within the rules.

That’s why he looked down on Li Qing, who spent his days thinking only of brute force, never using his brain.

Someone like that dared to think he could stand on equal footing with him—or even ride above him? Such delusions.

As the sun dipped westward, Wang Chen employed his lightness technique to swiftly make his way home.

He had spent the entire afternoon practicing the Golden Light Shield spell.

No doubt, this spell consumed enormous spiritual energy. At his current Qi Refining Level Eight, he could only sustain it for about thirty breaths.

But its defense was formidable; even an all-out strike at his strength barely dented the shield.

After an afternoon of practice, Wang Chen had successfully grasped the basics, and his progress bar was halfway complete.

Another afternoon of training tomorrow should bring him to proficiency.

Perhaps then, the spell’s energy consumption would lessen.

Lost in thoughts of cultivation, Wang Chen found himself at his doorstep.

Raising his eyes, he saw a delicate figure waiting outside.

Upon recognizing her, Wang Chen’s eyes brightened, and a gentle smile curved his lips. “Yue’er!”

At his call, Leng Yue’er turned her head toward the sound.

Seeing Wang Chen’s radiant smile, a flicker of distraction crossed her eyes.

The young man wore a faded cyan Taoist robe, exuding vibrant vitality. His skin was translucent like white jade, bathed in the sunset’s glow, resembling a deity descended from the heavens.

This stirred a ripple in Leng Yue’er’s once-deadened heart.

Could this really be her childhood companion?