Ling Fan’s expression did not change when the Second Elder announced the verdict.
He remained standing calmly, as if the words that had just sealed his fate had nothing to do with him.
After a brief moment, he simply nodded in silent acceptance.
Bai Li recovered from his brief shock quickly, yet his gaze remained complicated as he looked at the young man before him.
Behind him stood Li Chan. Her fists were clenched so tightly that her fingers trembled.
Her teeth were pressed together, her eyes reddened—anger, pain, and helplessness all mixed together.
Elder Liu had nothing to do with this matter, so he remained silent.
Liu Yuyan stood to the side, her expression unusually unsettled, as if something inside her had yet to settle.
Bai Li stepped forward and stopped directly in front of Ling Fan.
He studied the young man’s face for a long moment, his gaze heavy and difficult to interpret.
Was it regret? Pity? Or perhaps a trace of hidden guilt?
Ling Fan could not tell.
But he recognized the sound of Bai Li’s footsteps perfectly.
Ling Fan bowed once and spoke calmly.
“Godfather.”
His voice did not tremble.
Bai Li was silent for a moment before saying quietly,
“Rise.”
Ling Fan raised his head.
Bai Li extended his hand and took out a small pouch he had been carrying for some time, then placed it in Ling Fan’s hand.
Inside was a protective vest.
“It isn’t high-grade,” Bai Li said in a low voice, “but it can block the claws of some beasts.”
He paused before adding,
“There is also one vial of beast-repellent medicine.”
That medicine was extremely valuable.
It was made from a mixture of rare herbs whose scent repelled most beasts. Even a single vial could drive away monsters from an entire area.
Its price alone was something Ling Fan and his mother could never afford—even if they sold everything they owned.
Bai Li had been unexpectedly generous.
After all, Ling Fan was not truly his son.
Bai Li had many talented children of his own. The Ninth Young Master was one of them.
Yet when Ling Fan heard his godfather’s words, his expression did not change.
But deep in his heart, he felt a faint warmth.
At least… not everything between them had been false.
He quietly engraved this small kindness into his memory.
Not everyone present was pleased with the scene.
Bai Qing’s expression darkened slightly, and the Second Elder frowned, but neither spoke.
Li Chan suddenly pulled Ling Fan into a tight embrace.
She cried softly, speaking many broken words filled with worry and affection.
Bai Li only offered a few quiet words.
Finally, the Second Elder interrupted coldly.
“That’s enough.”
Ling Fan said nothing.
He simply turned and walked toward the carriage that would take him to the forest.
As he walked away, Liu Yuyan continued staring at his back.
A strange feeling crept into her chest—as if she had just lost something extremely precious.
A faint trace of regret passed through her heart.
But what could she have done?
The carriage slowly departed the Bai Clan residence.
It passed through the streets of Dark Moon City.
Shops lined the roads. Market stalls overflowed with goods. Public squares bustled with people.
The city was loud and alive.
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Ling Fan could not see any of it.
But his ears captured everything.
The cries of merchants.
The sound of footsteps.
The clink of coins.
The endless noise of life.
The streets were crowded, yet people quickly moved aside when the carriage approached.
The flag hanging from it carried the emblem of the Bai Clan.
In this world, power allowed one to do whatever they wished.
Ling Fan had come to understand this truth slowly as he practiced martial arts.
And it was also his desire—
To become strong enough to live freely.
To live the life he wanted.
Together with his mother, the only family he had left.
Not long after leaving the city, the carriage stopped.
One of the servants opened the door and spoke with noticeable respect.
“We’ve arrived.”
Their tone was completely different now.
Careful. Restrained.
None of them dared mock him like before.
After all, he was a man walking toward his death.
And a man like that might not care about consequences if he decided to kill someone before dying.
So they remained silent.
Ling Fan was satisfied with that.
If any of them had dared provoke him, he would not have hesitated to respond.
He stepped down from the carriage.
A large pack rested on his back.
Inside were food supplies, several knives, and the vial of beast-repellent medicine.
The protective vest was already worn beneath his clothes.
Ling Fan stood still for a moment.
He listened.
The wind brushing through the trees.
Leaves rustling.
Birds chirping in the distance.
A faint smile appeared on his lips.
Then he stepped forward.
One step.
Then another.
Until the forest swallowed him.
The servants watched from behind with surprise.
He did not move blindly as they expected.
Instead, he walked with steady confidence—
As if the forest itself was not unfamiliar to him.
The forest was vast.
It stretched endlessly, connected to other forests and covering the entire slopes of the Dark Wind Mountains.
Even a person with sight could not see its end.
Ling Fan did not need to see it.
He moved silently.
Each step carefully measured.
This was one of the methods he had devised to increase his chances of survival.
While walking, his mind worked without pause.
Plans formed.
Risks calculated.
Eight months between life and death.
Ling Fan’s movements were almost completely silent.
Yet despite his calm exterior, tension gripped his body from within.
This forest did not welcome humans.
A single mistake could cost him his life.
He breathed slowly while moving between the trees.
A plan gradually formed in his mind.
He would not rush deeper into the forest.
That would be suicide.
Instead—
He would spend five months along the outer edges.
Learning the terrain.
Memorizing sounds.
Understanding the movements of animals.
Training.
Only then would he use the beast-repellent medicine to venture deeper and complete his mission.
But another problem remained.
Food.
Even the large pack he carried would not last more than a month.
So his first objective was simple.
Find a river.
Water meant life.
Fish meant food.
He continued moving slowly.
The ground beneath his feet was covered with roots and fallen leaves.
Wind whispered through the trees.
Birds cried above.
Then suddenly—
He heard it.
A faint sound.
Flowing water.
Ling Fan stopped instantly.
He focused his hearing.
Yes.
He was certain.
A river.
His heartbeat quickened slightly.
He changed direction and moved toward it.
His steps became faster.
Then—
In a single moment—
His concentration broke.
His foot caught between the roots of a massive tree.
His balance collapsed.
He fell hard.
His belongings scattered across the ground.
The pack opened.
Knives rolled away.
The vial of beast-repellent medicine struck a rock.
Crack.
Ling Fan froze.
The glass had fractured slightly.
For a brief moment, a sharp scent leaked into the air.
He hurriedly grabbed the vial and sealed it again.
Slow breath.
“Damn…”
he muttered quietly while gathering his belongings.
He did not notice the scent had already spread.
Finally, he stood again.
He extended his hand.
The air felt moist.
The sound of water was closer now.
He knelt slightly, trying to feel the river.
Then—
Ling Fan suddenly froze.
Something was wrong.
The air had changed.
Then he heard it.
Heavy footsteps crushing dry leaves.
Slow.
Deliberate.
His heart tightened.
Not human.
Then came the sound.
A low growl that vibrated through the ground.
Cold fear ran through his veins.
“A tiger…”
he whispered.
His hand searched quickly for the beast-repellent vial.
But his fingers found nothing.
It was too far.
The growl came closer.
The sound of rough breathing filled his ears.
The scent of rotten meat reached his nose.
It was close.
Very close.
Normally, a fourth-stage Body Tempering martial artist could match a tiger in strength.
But Ling Fan was blind.
And that was his fatal weakness.
Against such a fast predator, he was nearly helpless.
His hand trembled slightly.
Then he tightened his grip on the knife.
“Calm down…”
he whispered.
But his body refused.
It trembled.
Then—
The beast attacked.
Ling Fan felt the air tear apart.
He threw himself sideways blindly.
But a massive claw still caught him.
It tore across his shoulder.
Pain exploded through his body.
A sharp scream escaped his throat.
He staggered backward.
Blood immediately began pouring from the wound.
He couldn’t locate the beast.
All he heard were its heavy breaths.
Then it attacked again.
The tiger lunged.
This time Ling Fan wasn’t fast enough.
The beast’s body slammed into him.
He crashed to the ground.
Hot breath struck his face.
The growl drowned his voice.
He thrust his knife forward wildly.
The blade pierced flesh.
The tiger roared in fury.
A massive paw slammed into his chest.
It felt as if his ribs shattered.
He choked.
Rolling away desperately, he forced himself back to his feet.
Blood streamed from his shoulder and side.
The ground beneath him was slick.
He couldn’t tell where the tiger stood.
All he had was sound.
He waited.
His breathing ragged.
Pain burning through his body.
Then—
A step.
He lunged toward the sound with desperation.
Screaming as he stabbed.
The knife plunged again.
Deeper this time.
The tiger roared with rage.
But its next attack was faster.
Its claw tore across Ling Fan’s abdomen, shredding the leather vest as if it were nothing.
Pain like fire erupted through him.
He screamed and dropped to one knee.
The world began spinning.
Blood spread across the ground.
Yet he still refused to release the knife.
His grip tightened until his palm bled.
“I won’t… surrender…”
his voice was weak.
To him, death was not the worst fate.
The worst thing was surrender.
To accept the end without fighting.
To choose the comfort of death instead of struggle.
To him—
That was the true disgrace of a martial artist.
He forced himself forward again.
But his body no longer obeyed.
His steps shook.
Then—
The knife slipped from his hand.
He heard the tiger’s footsteps approaching slowly.
His head grew heavy.
His thoughts blurred.
A faint question surfaced in his fading mind.
Did I fight… because I fear death?
Or…
Because this is my conviction?
To walk the path of martial arts without surrender…
Even if that path leads to death?
Darkness swallowed his thoughts.
And Ling Fan finally lost consciousness.
