## Chapter Eleven: The Whispers of a Hidden Vein
Yan Zhen's victory over Gao Ren, especially the way he'd exploited a hidden weakness, sent a subtle ripple through the Outer Court. He was no longer just a strong brute; he was a strong brute with an uncanny instinct, a dangerous combination. He felt it too, a new surge of confidence in his gut feelings, a burgeoning belief in his own unique talent beyond sheer power. He spent the days before the next tournament round in intense, solitary training, his movements now carrying an undeniable precision.
Lin Feng watched, a casual observer, yet every flicker of Yan Zhen's qi, every shift in the Outer Court's undercurrent, was meticulously noted. His own hidden cultivation continued to soar, now truly solidifying at **Spirit Condensation, Stage 1**, a level he dared not even hint at. He practiced intricate qi-masking techniques, making his aura seem as placid and unremarkable as a shallow pond, even as a powerful current churned beneath.
Qing Yu, having secured her own place in the next round with cool efficiency, also remained focused. She'd observed Yan Zhen's fight with Gao Ren closely, a rare flicker of intrigue in her sharp eyes. She saw the raw power, yes, but also that unexpected, almost intuitive tactical strike. She hadn't forgotten Lin Feng's subtle contributions to their banner-rescuing escapade either, and found herself occasionally wondering about the depths of his "luck" and "casual insight."
The aftermath of Shen Li's outburst was swift and harsh. He was publicly reprimanded, stripped of all cultivation resources, and assigned to the most menial, humiliating chores on the sect's outer perimeter. His broken spirit was now fully exposed, a stark warning to any who dared challenge the established order. Yet, his plight also fueled a deeper, quieter resentment among the struggling outer disciples. Murmurs about unfairness, about favoritism, about true potential being wasted, began to circulate like a creeping mist.
It was one such murmur that caught Yan Zhen's ear, not directly from Lin Feng, but from a group of disgruntled disciples gathered near the mess hall.
"Did you hear?" one whispered, eyes darting nervously. "Old Man Li, the gardener, was grumbling. Said the Grand Elder's personal herb garden is actually sitting on a minor Spirit Vein. A pure one, too. But all its qi gets siphoned off for the Inner Disciples' private cultivation halls. None of it ever reaches the outer sections."
"Yeah," another scoffed. "And I heard if you could just tap into it, even for a few hours, it'd push a Body Tempering disciple straight to Spirit Condensation. But it's guarded by invisible formations, and Old Man Li said some of the Elders are secretly funneling its essence into powerful pills for their favored proteges."
Yan Zhen's blood began to boil. He remembered Shen Li, broken and despairing. He remembered the grueling chores, the limited resources, the endless struggle. A hidden Spirit Vein, monopolized by the powerful, while others withered? It ignited his innate sense of justice. This wasn't just a rumor; it was a symbol of everything that felt *wrong* with the sect's structure.
Lin Feng, casually strolling by "on his way to clean the latrines," seemed to just happen to overhear the same conversation. He met Yan Zhen's indignant gaze, offering a sympathetic, almost pained expression, as if sharing the outrage. He made no comment, simply a subtle shake of his head, as if to say, *'See? This is what we face.'*
That evening, Yan Zhen sought out Lin Feng. "Did you hear what they were saying about the Grand Elder's garden? A hidden Spirit Vein? And they're hoarding it? That's not fair! We should do something!" His fists were clenched, his face flushed with indignation.
Lin Feng looked thoughtful, tapping his chin. "Yeah, I heard. Sounds pretty messed up, doesn't it? But man, that garden is super forbidden. And those invisible formations... they say they're pretty nasty. Even an Inner Disciple would have trouble getting through without an Elder's badge." He spoke with genuine concern, making the challenge seem almost insurmountable, appealing to Yan Zhen's desire to overcome impossible odds. He also subtly provided more details about the 'formidable' defenses.
"But what if we could just... peek?" Yan Zhen insisted, his eyes gleaming with a stubborn light. "Just to see if it's true! If it is, then it's proof, isn't it? Proof of how unfair they are!"
Lin Feng pondered, then slowly nodded, as if reluctantly swayed by Yan Zhen's righteous fervor. "Well, if it's just a 'peek'... I suppose we could try to find a way around the edges. I mean, the Grand Elder's garden is huge. There might be a weak point in the formations if you know where to look. I did read something in an old book once about how certain ancient qi patterns can sometimes weaken during the full moon... though that might just be folklore." He shrugged, making it seem like a whimsical, almost foolish notion.
Yan Zhen's eyes lit up. "The full moon! That's tonight! Come on, Lin Feng! We have to see!"
Lin Feng put on a nervous but determined expression. "Alright, Zhen. But we gotta be super careful. If we get caught, it's not just chores, it's expulsion. Or worse." He subtly instilled a sense of shared danger, a bond formed in risk.
Under the shroud of the full moon, they crept towards the Grand Elder's sprawling, secluded garden. The air grew heavy with a vibrant, pure qi that seemed to pulse through the very earth, undeniable proof of the rumor. Invisible barriers shimmered faintly, guarding the perimeter. Yan Zhen, driven by a powerful moral compass, moved with a newfound stealth, his Body Tempering strength allowing him to scale walls and navigate treacherous terrain.
As they reached a particularly dense thicket, a low growl echoed from within. A **Spirit Guardian Beast**, a formidable creature made of pure qi, shimmered into existence, its eyes glowing with predatory intent. It was at least **Spirit Condensation, Stage 3**, far beyond their combined strength.
Yan Zhen instinctively braced himself, his qi flaring. "Woah! What's that thing?"
Lin Feng, without a trace of the "lucky" clumsiness, swiftly assessed the situation. "It's a Guardian Beast! Not meant to kill, but to incapacitate and capture! Its weakness is dispelling formations, not direct combat! Zhen, distract it! Its core is probably tied to the central formation!" He immediately began making complex hand signs, his fingers moving with an unnerving grace, channeling his true, hidden qi to subtly disrupt the ambient qi flows. He didn't explain; he simply acted, his knowledge surfacing as an urgent, practical skill.
Yan Zhen, trusting his friend, launched himself forward, drawing the Guardian Beast's attention. He moved with incredible speed, dodging the creature's spectral claws, using his raw power to absorb glancing blows, all while Lin Feng worked tirelessly, his face a mask of intense concentration.
Suddenly, a shimmering ripple ran through the air. The Guardian Beast roared, its form flickering. Lin Feng's subtle qi manipulation had caused a momentary instability in the garden's defensive formation, weakening the beast's connection to its source. Yan Zhen seized the opportunity, delivering a powerful blow that momentarily stunned the flickering creature.
"Now, Zhen! The side!" Lin Feng hissed, pointing to a small, almost invisible gap in the shimmering barrier that had briefly opened.
Yan Zhen, acting on instinct, surged through the opening. On the other side, the qi was incredibly dense, coalescing into visible streams that flowed directly towards the Inner Disciple cultivation halls. He saw small, meticulously cultivated patches of rare spiritual herbs, glowing with an unnatural vibrancy. The rumors were true. It wasn't just a vein; it was a veritable reservoir of pure spiritual energy, locked away for the privileged few.
A powerful alarm suddenly blared, piercing the night. Their momentary breach had been detected.
"We gotta go, Zhen!" Lin Feng yelled, pulling him back through the briefly widened gap. The Guardian Beast was already coalescing, stronger than before.
They fled, scrambling over walls, ducking through shadows, the alarm echoing behind them. They made it back to their room just as the first search parties began to fan out.
Yan Zhen was breathing heavily, his face a mixture of fear and profound anger. "It's true, Lin Feng! It's all true! They *are* hoarding it! We saw it!" He looked at Lin Feng, his eyes wide with a new, shared understanding, a deeper bond forged in defiance. "And you! You knew how to get past that thing! How did you do that?"
Lin Feng wiped his brow, feigning exhaustion. "Phew! Just... a lucky guess, Zhen! I remembered reading about how some ancient formations are linked to their guardian beasts. And your distraction was perfect! We make a pretty good team, huh?" He gave Yan Zhen a tired but triumphant smile. *He doesn't need to know the full depth of my knowledge. Just that I'm useful, resourceful, and always on his side. He just witnessed the injustice, and now he has a shared secret. Perfect.*
The thrill of uncovering the truth, combined with the narrow escape, solidified a new resolve within Yan Zhen. He was no longer just fighting for a spot in the Inner Sect; he was fighting against a system he now knew, firsthand, was unfair. The tournament suddenly took on a deeper, more personal meaning. Lin Feng watched, a cold satisfaction in his heart. The serpent's coil was tightening, and Yan Zhen, the pure-hearted hero, was now firmly entangled in its design.
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