C2 Provocation

The door flew open with a kick, revealing a massive figure that took Lin Yu by surprise. It was a fat man, round as a beach ball, with a face that seemed vaguely familiar. Lin Yu couldn't quite place him, but before he could try, the fat man had rolled over and enveloped him in a bear hug, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Mr. Yu, you nearly scared me to death! Did you have any idea? When I carried you back yesterday, you were barely breathing. I feared the worst. Seeing you so full of life this morning... I'm just overjoyed," the fat man babbled, his happiness rendering his words almost nonsensical.

Lin Yu, his face flushed from the tight embrace and his own frailty, gasped for air. "Fatty... let go, I can't breathe," he managed to say in a rush.

"Oh, oh, my apologies... I got carried away," the fat man quickly released him, a sheepish look on his face.

Taking a deep breath, Lin Yu's near-suffocation scare passed. He finally placed the familiar figure before him: Shea Xiaoming, the third son of the Shi family from the Red Lotus Empire. His hefty build had made him the target of mockery, much like Lin Yu's own situation, which had forged a fast friendship between them.

Shea Xiaoming had joined Lin Yu at the Outer Sect of the Profound Heaven Sect the year after Lin Yu's arrival. Both were outcasts, with no one else to turn to, which over time made them each other's sole... Oh, only friend.

It was Shea Xiaoming who had carried Lin Yu back after his collapse at the Martial Training Field the previous evening and had summoned a doctor to tend to him. After finishing his morning exercises today, he had hurried over without even stopping for breakfast, relieved to find Lin Yu's condition improved.

"Mr. Yu, please don't take such risks again. Mo Yunxi is not someone we can afford to provoke. We'll find a way to pass the assessment in a month," Shea Xiaoming said, offering comfort. As Lin Yu's close friend, he was well aware of the worries that weighed on his heart.

"Thank you. I won't be reckless again," Lin Yu replied with a gentle smile.

"That's a relief. There's no hurdle too high to clear in this world. Brother Lin, you must be hungry, right? Come on, let's grab a bite at the Outer Sect cafeteria," Shea Xiaoming urged.

"Sure," Lin Yu replied, having spent the entire night recuperating, he was indeed feeling peckish.

The June sun blazed overhead as the plump Xiaoming led the way. The streets were bustling with people who, upon spotting Lin Yu, quickly shifted from casual glances to looks of scorn and mockery, some even whispering and pointing. Xiaoming kept a close eye on Lin Yu's expression, and only when he was sure that Lin Yu was unfazed did he breathe a sigh of relief.

Given their abilities and standing, if they were to start any trouble, there was no doubt they'd end up on the losing end.

"I'm okay," Lin Yu reassured, giving the plump Xiaoming a pat on the shoulder.

"Good to hear... Here we are," Xiaoming replied with a grin. They had arrived at the Profound Heaven Sect's Outer Sect cafeteria. Breakfast time was still in full swing, and the place was buzzing with people who fell silent and watched him with amused curiosity.

"Well, if it isn't Brother Toad! Feeling better?" someone asked with feigned concern.

Lin Yu brushed past the man without a word, grabbed some food, and headed to an empty corner to enjoy his breakfast in peace. The jeers of the onlookers didn't bother him in the slightest; he thought they were pathetic.

But then, a gruff voice cut through the air, "Toad... you're still alive? Tsk tsk, you're one tough guy. But really, what's the point of a loser like you hanging around? You might as well just end it..."

Lin Yu glanced up to see three figures blocking his view—a towering brute flanked by two cronies, one with a monkey-like face and the other bald. They stared down at Lin Yu with derision.

Uninterested in engaging, Lin Yu continued with his breakfast.

The muscular man, however, took offense, feeling slighted. Who did Lin Yu think he was? A nobody, a laughingstock, especially after yesterday's events. And yet, he dared to give such a look? Wang Meng's anger surged, and with a thunderous slap on the table, he barked, "Toad... beat it. I'm eating here."

"What does that have to do with me?" Lin Yu asked with a nonchalant air.

"The sight of a toad like you eating next to me makes me want to puke. What if I lose my appetite?" Wang Meng mimicked retching. "So... if you have any sense, scram..."

Lin Yu's disturbance had already drawn the gaze of everyone in the restaurant, their eyes alight with excitement as if they had stumbled upon some thrilling spectacle.

Yet Lin Yu remained unfazed, meeting his gaze with a cool detachment. Under the table, Shea Xiaoming tugged at Lin Yu's sleeve and gave her meaningful looks, silently pleading for her to avoid any hasty actions. He was all too familiar with Wang Meng, a Yellow Rank pinnacle master and one of the Outer Sect's four bullies, notorious for his swagger and the gang he had amassed.

Xiaoming was genuinely worried that Lin Yu might not withstand a confrontation and would end up suffering more than just a bruised ego. After all, when you're under someone's roof, you have to play by their rules.

But Lin Yu seemed oblivious to Xiaoming's silent warnings, her voice light and teasing as she replied, "And what if I choose not to leave?"

"Oh, quite the bold words. If you won't leave, I'll be happy to show you the door myself!" Wang Meng said, grabbing Lin Yu's clothes and yanking her towards him.

"Calm down. Have you forgotten where we are? You wouldn't dare lay a finger on me," Lin Yu chided with a soft chuckle.

Wang Meng stiffened, the truth of Lin Yu's words hitting home. They were indeed in the Outer Sect of the Profound Heaven Sect, where brawling was expressly prohibited. His arrogance had its limits, and he wasn't foolish enough to openly defy the rules, especially not under the watchful eyes of an audience...

"So... let go," Lin Yu said, the smile still playing on her lips.

Wang Meng's expression darkened, caught in a tangle of emotions as he felt the mocking stares of the onlookers. His glare towards Lin Yu grew more venomous.

"Feeling humiliated? Want to crush my face beneath your boot?" Lin Yu teased, her smile widening.

Wang Meng remained silent, his thoughts transparent.

"How about I offer you an opportunity instead?" Lin Yu suggested, her grin now radiant.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm challenging you to settle this with a duel at the Martial Training Field. How does that sound?" Lin Yu inquired with a calm detachment.

"What?" In that instant, Wang Meng nearly believed his ears had deceived him. Lin Yu... was this good-for-nothing actually daring to challenge him? Where on earth did he muster the audacity?

Lin Yu's declaration cast a hush over the restaurant, which was quickly shattered by waves of raucous laughter. Some clutched their bellies, others banged on tables, all convulsed with mirth.

"Hahaha, can you believe it? Did everyone catch that? Lin Yu, that piece of trash, is challenging Wang Meng? Hahaha, he's picking a fight with Wang Meng? Isn't that just a death wish? Wang Meng is at Yellow Rank Level Nine, while Lin Yu is a mere Level Three. Six whole levels apart. What could he possibly be thinking?"

"He's out of his league. I've always said that guy's got a screw loose. If he's so eager to meet his maker, why rush it?"

"This is going to be entertaining. Wang Meng, just accept his challenge already. Show this nobody why the flowers are so brilliantly red..."

...

It didn't take long for Wang Meng to snap out of it, realizing the crowd was always ready for a spectacle. A sneer spread across his face as he retorted icily, "What's that? You're challenging me? Are you certain?"

"Absolutely. Are you afraid?" Lin Yu responded earnestly, though his earnestness just made him look like a fool in everyone else's eyes.

"Afraid? Of a nobody like you, stuck at the third level of the Yellow Rank? I accept your challenge!" Wang Meng declared, his smile twisting into a sinister grin. Lin Yu had just publicly humiliated him, and he had been plotting his revenge. Now, Lin Yu had unwittingly shown him the way.

In the Profound Heaven Sect, while brawls were prohibited, sanctioned duels were still permitted. It wasn't allowed to kill, but leaving an opponent bedridden for weeks or with lifelong injuries was fair game. To Wang Meng, Lin Yu's challenge was tantamount to a death wish.

"You're asking for it, and I'm happy to oblige!" Wang Meng silently vowed to himself.

"To the Martial Training Field, then!" Lin Yu stated coolly, rising and making his way outside.

"Mr. Yu..." Fatty's voice was tinged with concern.

"It's all good," Lin Yu assured him with a smile.

"He won't die, of course. But he'll wish he had... Hahahaha..." Wang Meng's laughter was laced with conceit as he followed Lin Yu out. At that moment, the diners in the restaurant lost their appetite, surging toward the Profound Heaven Sect's Outer Sect Martial Training Field as if spurred on by an adrenaline rush.

The word spread quickly: Lin Yu, the so-called weakling, had dared to challenge Wang Meng, the tyrant of the Outer Sect. Before long, those with idle time on their hands were flocking to the Martial Training Field, eager to bear witness to what might be a miraculous event.

The Outer Sect of the Profound Heaven Sect was home to thousands of disciples, yet now the Martial Training Field was teeming with spectators.

Lin Yu simply smiled to himself at the sight of the overcrowded venue. He found the situation rather pitiful; the crowd's cheers seemed superfluous. Glancing at Wang Meng, not far off, Lin Yu flexed his wrist, eliciting a series of cracks, his grin growing more malevolent by the second.

"Come on..." Lin Yu beckoned to Wang Meng with a crooked finger, signaling his readiness for the onslaught.

"Looking for death?" Wang Meng seethed, his spiritual energy surging as he stepped forward. A gust of wind swept through, pelting Lin Yu with dust and obscuring his vision. He steadied his mind quickly, but when his view cleared, a looming shadow bore down on him, a fist cutting through the air.