Beauty and Might: Heavenly Flames

Li Yan felt the silence settle around him like a shift in gravity.

Ji Xin exhaled softly, unaware she’d been holding her breath.

The others exchanged glances—eyes filled not just with respect, but something deeper. Understanding. Recognition. They had witnessed something few cultivators ever would—something ancient, rare, and undeniably real.

For the first time since entering this dining hall, Li Yan felt the shift.

They no longer saw him as a mysterious youth with sharp words. They saw him as someone beyond their measure.

Cao Lian finally whispered, ”Incredible…” her tone soft but filled with quiet wonder, broke the silence.

”That was my first time witnessing a Superior-Level affinity with my own eyes.” Her voice trembled faintly, as though she were speaking of a legend long thought lost to time.

Ji Hong’s gaze remained fixed on the spot where the sphere had vanished. ”You’re not wrong. In all my years, I’ve only read about Superior-Level affinity in ancient records—names buried deep in history.”

Li Yan inclined his head modestly, a faint smile on his lips. ”Thanks for your kind words, Elder Ji, Elder Cao. I only wish to grow at my own pace. But sometimes the path reveals things earlier than expected.”

Ji Hong leaned back, ”You’ve already walked farther than most, Li Yan—and you’ve done so in silence. That may be the most admirable thing of all.”

Even Bai Ru, still composed, inclined her head in faint acknowledgment. Ji Lin’s sharp stare had softened, replaced by something more contemplative.

Ji Hao finally spoke, his curiosity getting the better of him. ”Grandfather, what exactly is a Superior-Level affinity? And what ancient records were you referring to?”

Ji Xin looked toward Ji Hong as well, her eyes gleaming with intrigue.

Ji Hong nodded slightly, his expression patient. ”You wouldn’t know of them yet. Those records are stored deep within the Library. Your current cultivation doesn’t grant access.”

A faint breeze stirred the lanterns, emphasizing the weight of his words, as he paused before continuing.

”As for the Superior-Level affinity… what we possess are normal affinities. But according to those same ancient records, another level exists—a superior state of elemental connection.”

His eyes shifted briefly toward Li Yan. ”At that level, one not only controls their element with greater precision, but their very presence can suppress the same element around them.”

”They unlock abilities that ordinary cultivators can only dream of.”

Ji Hao and Ji Xin both nodded slowly, their expressions filled with new understanding—and awe.

Cao Lian, still visibly impressed, chuckled softly. ”Well… now I’m really curious. If your darkness affinity is like this, I can’t imagine what other surprises you’re still hiding.”

Li Yan’s expression remained calm, but a faint gleam flickered in his eyes. ”Let’s just say… some things are better kept hidden, at least for now.”

Ji Hong leaned back slightly, studying him with a knowing smile before steering the conversation elsewhere. ”Li Yan,” he began, his tone turning more serious, ”how is your progress on the task to collect one thousand Tier-1 Beast Cores?”

Li Yan replied calmly, ”I’ve already made my first trip to the hunting grounds. With the experience I’ve gained, I’m confident I can complete the task before Senior Yao Fuhuo returns.”

Ji Hong chuckled lightly. ”Yes, I’ve heard a few things about your first outing. Apparently, you’ve caused quite a commotion on the White Rank Leaderboard.”

A wave of surprise rippled across the others at the table. They exchanged puzzled glances, clearly unaware of what the two were referring to.

”Oh?” Li Yan blinked, then smiled awkwardly. ”Elder Ji, that wasn’t my intention. If I’ve caused any trouble, I sincerely apologize.”

Ji Hong waved his hand, still smiling. ”No trouble at all, Li Yan. In fact, I was impressed. Your performance shook up the leaderboard. You’ve lit a fire under the disciples—especially the top three. They’ve been training twice as hard since yesterday.”

Li Yan inclined his head, a touch of relief easing his expression. ”I’m glad to hear that, Elder Ji.”

Cao Lian leaned forward, eyes sparkling with curiosity. ”Wait—what are you two talking about exactly?”

Ji Hong’s grin widened. ”Nothing too alarming. It’s just that Li Yan here managed to shake up the White Rank Leaderboard in just three days. His numbers even drew the attention of the top white rank disciples.”

He paused, letting his words linger before adding, ”He hunted five hundred and fifty-eight beasts and climbed to third place as of yesterday evening.”

The air froze. For a heartbeat, no one spoke—then came a chorus of disbelief. ”What?!”

All eyes turned to Li Yan.

Ji Hao leaned forward, astonishment written across his face. ”Junior Brother Li… you really hunted over five hundred beasts in just three days?”

He lifted his teacup to take a calm sip, as if the number meant nothing to him.

Then Li Yan met his gaze, tone even and sincere. ”That’s correct, Senior Brother. I wish to complete my task before Senior Yao returns, so I don’t waste time. I simply pushed myself. I hunted both day and night.”

Ji Hao’s jaw tightened slightly. ”He hunted that many… while most top White Rank disciples took two weeks to manage to reach those numbers of hunts?” His thoughts carried a mix of disbelief and admiration.

Across the table, Ji Xin bit her lower lip as she stared at Li Yan, her thoughts racing. ”Five hundred and fifty-eight… How is that even possible? And he’s not proud or boastful about it—just calm, as if it was nothing.”

Her gaze stayed on Li Yan for a moment. ”But the more you learn about him… the more you realize how little you actually know.” A slight flush appeared on her cheeks before she quickly looked away, frowning at her own thoughts.

Ji Lin’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ”No one, even at the peak of Qi Gathering Realm, should be capable of handling that many beasts in such a short time. Is he masking his strength?”

His gaze lingered on Li Yan. ”Either way, he’s dangerous—in a genius kind of way.”

Bai Ru, sitting quietly, adjusted her sleeve and offered a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. ”Third place in three days… while I’ve struggled for the whole month to reach the top twenty when I’m at his level.”

She shook her head lightly, a strange mix of envy and admiration flickering beneath her calm. ”If I hadn’t heard it from Father-in-Law himself, I’d have thought it was a rumor.”

The room fell quiet once more, the weight of the revelation settling like an invisible tide. None of them questioned his words now—because the number alone told the story.

As the tension finally eased and the meal wound down, the clinking of utensils softened, and the room settled into contemplative silence. Ji Hong rose from his seat with graceful ease, his expression calm yet unreadable.

”Li Yan,” he said evenly, ”come with me. I have a few pointers that might benefit you.”

Li Yan stood and bowed respectfully to the others. ”Thank you all for your kindness. I look forward to seeing you again soon.”

Cao Lian’s voice followed, warm and sincere. ”Li Yan, if you ever need pills or alchemical supplies, visit me at the Alchemy Hall. I’ll make sure you’re taken care of—discount included.”

Li Yan smiled appreciatively. ”Thank you, Elder Cao. I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, he turned and followed Ji Hong out of the dining room. Their footsteps echoed softly against the polished stone floor as they passed through a wide, elegantly simple living hall.

Though sparsely furnished, the space exuded quiet dignity—each piece chosen with purpose.

Tapestries lined the walls, woven with scenes of ancient battles and golden-era legends, their threads shimmering faintly beneath the lantern light. The depictions felt alive, carrying the weight of history and reverence within their colors.

At the far end of the hall stood a solid, unadorned door. Ji Hong paused before it, glancing back over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, but something in his gaze made Li Yan straighten instinctively.

Without another word, Ji Hong pushed the door open.

Li Yan stepped inside, his sharp eyes scanning the room beyond.

It was bare—its stone walls marked only by faint runic etchings that pulsed softly with light—in the center stood a raised circular platform of smooth obsidian, its surface faintly rippling with energy.

Ji Hong closed the door behind them, the sound echoing softly, then gestured for Li Yan to step forward.

Li Yan obeyed, walking toward the platform. Li Yan felt the faint tension in the air tighten around his ribs.

When they reached the center, Ji Hong finally broke the silence. His tone was calm, but the weight in it was unmistakable.

”Li Yan, I brought you here because there’s something important we need to discuss—something you may not yet be aware of, but must come to understand.”

Li Yan tilted his head slightly. ”And what might that be, Elder Ji?”

Ji Hong’s eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a low, measured tone. ”Are you familiar with the concept of Killing Aura?”

The question hit like a spark in dry grass.

Li Yan blinked, momentarily surprised. He had seen the term in some cultivation novels back in his previous life—stories where warriors developed a dreadful aura after many battles, a presence born from death and slaughter.

Such a force could break an opponent’s will, twist the atmosphere, or even turn fighting before the first strike. But this wasn’t fiction anymore. And here, the rules of those old stories often became terrifyingly real.

He met Ji Hong’s gaze and answered cautiously. ”No, Elder Ji. I’m unfamiliar with it.”

The elder’s eyes lingered on him for a long moment, as though probing beneath his calm exterior.

”Then listen carefully,” Ji Hong spoke again, his voice steady but edged with warning.

”A Killing Aura is not something you cultivate like Qi—it’s a presence—a stain of power that clings to those who have taken many lives, especially within a short span. It is the scent of death, a force that marks the difference between those who’ve merely trained and those who’ve walked paths soaked in blood.”

His eyes sharpened. ”It can be felt. A bloody, oppressive pressure that hangs over its bearer like a shadow. Those around them can sense it instinctively—their hearts tighten, their breathing falters, and fear seeps into their minds.”

”It weakens the enemy’s will before you even draw your weapon. At higher densities, it can distort perception, even shatter the will of those weaker than you.”

Li Yan’s eyes narrowed slightly. Yet he didn’t interrupt, but his expression hardened somewhat as he absorbed each word.

Ji Hong continued, his voice low but certain. ”But it’s more than a psychological weapon. A refined Killing Aura sharpens the body in combat—faster reflexes, heightened instincts, resistance to pain. It draws out your peak potential in battle.”

But then his tone shifted. The faint trace of admiration vanished, replaced by something colder—caution.

”Yet, like all power, it demands a price.”

His gaze met Li Yan’s directly, eyes grave. ”Those who fail to control it lose themselves. The mind grows violent, judgment falters, and the thirst for blood becomes insatiable.”

”The aura feeds that hunger until it consumes everything that makes one human. And when that happens…” Ji Hong’s eyes narrowed. ”...the Killing Aura no longer serves its wielder. It devours them instead.”

Li Yan’s expression darkened slightly. His posture stiffened as he absorbed every word, feeling an unspoken understanding stirring within him.

The room seemed quieter now, as though even the air dared not stir.

”I see,” Li Yan’s voice broke the silence, calm but edged with thought. ”Then… why tell me this, Elder Ji? What does it have to do with me?”

Ji Hong nodded solemnly, his expression firm. ”Because it does concern you, Li Yan.”