Pulling Into the Fold

A gift in hand makes one beholden.

There was no such thing as a free lunch in this world. If he accepted these thirty thousand spirit stones, Ning Fan feared he would be constrained at every turn by the old crone before him.

Moreover, in her mind, didn't he share a blood feud with the Zhao family?

Instead of killing him, she was offering him thirty thousand spirit stones-what was the meaning of this?

Unable to grasp the underlying truth, Ning Fan felt the storage ring grow rather hot in his hand.

"This seat already knows that Qishuang did not die by your hand. As for what truly transpired..."

Zhao Wuqing murmured to herself.

As her voice trailed off, a faint trace of killing intent manifested around her.

During her investigation, every piece of evidence had pointed directly to Ning Fan. The trail was flawless and perfectly corroborated, leaving no room for doubt or omission.

Yet, it was precisely this artificial perfection that had aroused Zhao Wuqing's suspicion.

She had feigned a deep hatred for Ning Fan, even circulating a kill order across the sect.

But in the shadows, she had pressed further. Sure enough, upon deeper scrutiny, much of the ironclad evidence pointing to Ning Fan began to look highly anomalous.

Even so, no clear evidence had surfaced to expose the actual perpetrator.

However, based on the old crone's own judgment-

The murderer was highly likely from Zhao Qian's lineage.

Zhao Qishuang had almost certainly died at the hands of her own kin.

"Heh, hehe."

"That is for the best. Since Senior has cleared this junior of suspicion, let us leave it at that. There is no need for Senior to offer such a massive compensation," Ning Fan said with a forced laugh.

Back then, Ning Fan had declared that he would kill every member of the Zhao family he crossed. But now that there was an opportunity to turn weapons into jade and silk, he was not about to stubbornly cling to hatred.

The Zhao family was far too massive a colossus. Embroiling himself in a death feud with them was a terrible prospect.

"This is no compensation. It is cooperation," the old crone spoke slowly.

"Cooperation?"

Ning Fan tilted his head, a look of profound skepticism flashing through his eyes. Even if his talent was exceptional, he was merely a Ranking Disciple of Changming Peak at the fourth layer of the Profound Extreme Realm. Was he truly worthy of a Dao Ancestor initiating a pact?

And offering thirty thousand spirit stones as a bounty, no less?

What exactly did she want him to do?

"I need you to clear the first five levels of the Yin Yang Tower. Expel every Zhao family disciple who is not wearing a specific insignia. Absolutely no one from those factions must be allowed to set foot on the sixth level."

The old crone laid out her terms deliberately.

"Hmm?"

Ning Fan frowned, thoroughly bewildered by her instructions. He was entirely in the dark.

"You are aware of the upcoming Peak Competition, yes?" the old crone shifted the topic.

"I am."

Ning Fan nodded slightly, but then immediately shook his head. He only knew that the Peak Competition existed and when it would begin. As for the specifics-the format, the rewards, and the rules-he knew absolutely nothing.

"Heh."

Seeing his reaction, the old crone let out a soft chuckle and shook her head.

"The so-called Peak Competition is not just an opportunity for the main peaks to reshuffle the sect's hierarchy. It is also a tremendous Fated Chance for all participating disciples."

"The tournament takes place inside the Yin Yang Tower. The tower consists of nine levels, each containing varying concentrations of Yin Yang Qi."

"By refining that Yin Yang Qi through dual cultivation, a cultivator can exponentially increase their cultivation speed."

"Therefore, any disciple entering the tower will carry their entire net worth with them, seeking to maximize their breakthrough within the trials."

"Oh..."

Listening to her explanation, Ning Fan nodded as realization dawned on him. In just a few sentences, he had grasped the core concept of the Peak Competition.

But why did she want him to strike at the Zhao family's own stock?

Wasn't she the ancestor of the Zhao clan?

"The Zhao family does not belong to this seat alone. There is also Zhao Qian. The Ninth Elder, Zhao Bo, is one of his closest subordinates."

"Zhao Qian's faction controls the other half of our clan's strength," the old crone revealed.

"Ninth Elder... Zhao Qian..." Ning Fan muttered, his eyes narrowing.

If there was anyone in the entire Zhao family Ning Fan detested above all else, it was undoubtedly Ninth Elder Zhao Bo. His relationship with the Zhao clan had degraded entirely because of that old man's relentless plotting behind the scenes.

"This seat suspects that Qishuang was not killed by you, but that Zhao Qian orchestrated the murder to frame you."

"A frame-up?!" Ning Fan's eyes widened.

In an instant, everything clicked into place.

No wonder the old crone had initially pinned Zhao Qishuang's death on him. It turned out there was an internal traitor pulling the strings. It made perfect sense-a Zhao family member murdering their own, then shifting the blame to an outsider like Ning Fan. It was an incredibly simple yet effective scheme.

"That damn Ninth Elder..." Ning Fan ground his teeth, a flash of fury burning in his eyes. The old bastard was truly treacherous and sinister to the core.

"Disciple Ning Fan, I need you to completely drive Zhao Qian's disciples out of the Yin Yang Tower. By doing so, this seat will have the leverage required to suppress him and weaken his faction's influence across the peaks. This benefits you just as much as it does me."

"After all, you and I share no blood feud."

"But you do share one with Zhao Qian and Zhao Bo."

"Cooperating with this seat is simply helping yourself."

"..."

The old crone stared intently at Ning Fan as she reiterated her offer. She was masterfully playing upon his psychology, and within a few breaths, Ning Fan's heart was indeed swayed.

According to her logic, they were not adversaries. Moreover, they shared a common enemy-Zhao Qian, or more specifically for Ning Fan, the treacherous Ninth Elder.

"Inside the Yin Yang Tower, cultivators must continuously refine the Yin Yang Qi through dual cultivation, which means consuming an astronomical amount of spirit stones."

"Disciple Ning Fan, do you possess such reserves?" A calculated smile stretched across the old crone's lips.

"..."

Ning Fan was instantly choked up.

If her previous arguments had appealed to his logic and alignment, these few words struck directly at his absolute bottleneck.

It was true. He was completely broke.

"For disciples with true potential, each main peak will allocate an extra sum of spirit stones. However, considering Changming Peak's current financial state..."

The old crone's smile grew even wider.

"This seat wagers that the spirit stones allocated to you will not exceed three thousand. It might even be as low as two thousand. Tell me, will that paltry sum suffice?"

"..."

Ning Fan clenched his jaw as a thousand calculations raced through his mind. Finally, he looked up and gave a sharp nod.

"Deal!"

"Dao Ancestor Senior, this disciple is willing to cooperate!"

Ning Fan bent down and picked up the storage ring resting before him. Sweeping his gaze over the ring packed with thirty thousand spirit stones, a bright gleam surfaced in his eyes.

Thirty thousand spirit stones should be more than enough to sustain his cultivation inside the tower.

"Good."

Zhao Wuqing nodded, entirely unsurprised by his decision. Cooperation brought mutual benefits, while division meant mutual ruin. As long as Ning Fan wasn't an idiot, he would know which path to choose.

"Go."

"Once the competition commences, you will naturally be able to distinguish which disciples belong to my lineage and which belong to Zhao Qian's."

"Remember. Not a single soul from Zhao Qian's faction is permitted to ascend past the fifth level of the Yin Yang Tower."

"..."

As the old crone's voice faded, she swept her sleeve. A gust of dark wind instantly enveloped Ning Fan, plunging his vision into absolute darkness as the world began to violently spin.

88.181.249.5

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