"Ye Chen... he's strong."
The smug grin on the blonde man's face made Tang San's heart tighten. He couldn't see through the opponent's power level—meaning this man's spirit power far exceeded his own.
Currently at level 29, Tang San was already a high-ranking Spirit Master. If this man was even stronger, then he had to be at least level 30 or above—entering the Spirit Elder realm.
Without relying on his hidden weapons, Tang San knew he stood little chance of winning. But Ye Chen? Last time they met, his spirit power had only been level 1. What terrifying level had he reached in these six years?
Tang San stepped forward and said firmly, "Let me fight him. I want you to see the results of my training over these six years. You still remember our agreement, right?"
Ye Chen smiled slightly. "Of course. Coming to Soto City, my main goal was to find you, Xiao San."
Honestly, it didn't matter who fought. Ye Chen knew his strength well.
"Hey! Are you two done chatting?" the blonde man growled impatiently. "Come at me—both of you if you want!"
With a sharp shout, the man activated his martial spirit—White Tiger Possession. A massive, ghostly white tiger appeared behind him. In the next instant, a purple spirit ring flared to life, sending shockwaves through the inn's lobby and sparking a panic among nearby guests.
"A thousand-year ring… Level 37 Spirit Elder!" Tang San exclaimed, quickly summoning his Blue Silver Grass in preparation.
But the blonde man had no interest in fighting Tang San. With a heavy stomp, he shattered the marble floor beneath him and launched himself toward Ye Chen like a cannonball.
"Ye Chen! Watch out!" Tang San shouted, unleashing Parasite and Bind in rapid succession, vines snaking forward to protect his friend.
But his spirit skills needed time to grow.
Before the vines could reach the enemy, the blonde man was already flying backward like a broken kite. He smashed through the inn's entrance and rolled into the street, unconscious.
Everyone fell into stunned silence.
Even Xiao Wu stood wide-eyed, jaw slack. Tang San stared at Ye Chen as if he were a stranger. "T-Two thousand-year spirit rings…"
Two brilliant purple rings shimmered around Ye Chen, glowing like twin stars. He hadn't even drawn his Demon Abyss Sword, and yet his opponent had already fallen.
"How weak," Ye Chen muttered, brushing dust off his sleeves. Then, casually tossing a few gold coins onto the counter, he said to the dazed clerk, "Room, please."
"R-right away, sir! This way!"
The clerk, quick-witted, immediately led Ye Chen and the others to the most luxurious Imperial Suite.
The room was magnificent—like a miniature palace. A long red carpet stretched to the master bedroom, and a dazzling crystal chandelier bathed the lounge in soft white light.
As soon as the door closed, Tang San dragged Ye Chen to the couch and stared at him intently.
"Ye Chen, be honest. What level are you now? How do you have two thousand-year rings?"
If he remembered correctly, a spirit master had to reach level 30 just to absorb one thousand-year ring. Was Ye Chen already over level 40? That would make him a Spirit Ancestor. Unbelievable.
Ye Chen waved his hand modestly. "Nah, my talent's trash. I've trained bitterly for six years and just barely hit level 30. I only got those rings because of dumb luck. I haven't even gotten my third one yet. Honestly, I'm kind of a scrub."
Tang San's face twitched.
Scrub? Trash talent?
He'd spent six years cultivating with the Xuan Tian Record, reaching level 29 and acquiring two near-limit century rings, and he thought that was impressive.
But this guy had two thousand-year rings and called himself "trash"? Was everything he'd done for the past six years just a joke?
"Ye Chen… I really admire you," Tang San sighed. "Back then, your spirit power was just level 1. Now you've completely surpassed me. You must've trained insanely hard."
At that moment, a loud burst of laughter shattered the room's serious tone.
"Pffft! Hahaha!"
It was Ning Rongrong, clutching her stomach as she laughed uncontrollably. Xiao Wu and Tang San both looked at her, dumbfounded.
"Did I say something funny?" Tang San asked, confused.
"No, no, don't take it the wrong way," Rongrong said between giggles. "I just couldn't help laughing when you said Ye Chen must've trained hard…"
"What do you mean?" Xiao Wu asked, frowning. "Are you saying Ye Chen didn't work hard?"
"Work hard?" Rongrong wiped a tear from her eye. "Ye Chen and hard work? Those two words don't even go together!"
That left everyone even more confused. They all turned toward her, waiting for an explanation.
Feeling the pressure, Rongrong struggled to find the right words. Finally, she said:
"Ye Chen's spirit power grows the way some people gain weight—he doesn't even need to eat. Just drinks water and poof—levels up."
That... was shockingly easy to understand. Some people gain weight just by breathing air. And Ye Chen? His power grew just as unnaturally fast.
After a long pause, Tang San finally muttered, "You're a… natural-born genius."
Ye Chen shook his head quickly. "Xiao San, that's not what she meant—"
But Tang San was already gone, heading back to his room with clenched fists.
Ye Chen's existence made him realize: talent matters. But without effort, talent is wasted. He didn't want to fall too far behind—not with a duel still hanging between them.
Watching them leave, Ye Chen turned to Ning Rongrong with a wry smile. "You really know how to make things awkward."
"Awkward? I just told the truth," Rongrong said proudly, snuggling up to him. "You're a cultivation freak—and you're mine."