SSS-Rank 10x Reward System: Accepting Disciples to Live Forever-Chapter 177: Lin Huang Forms Golden Core..
Ancient Sword City, a few days later.
Wang Chen and his party were temporarily residing in the Yun Family’s guest compound, a secluded estate nestled within the inner districts of the city. Compared to the chaos that had shaken Ancient Sword City not long ago, the surroundings were now eerily calm, as if the city itself were deliberately holding its breath.
After everything finally settled, Lin Huang had entered closed-door cultivation.
Before doing so, he left behind only a single sentence.
"I will only come out once I reach the Golden Core Realm."
There had been no hesitation in his voice, only iron determination.
Wang Chen was genuinely moved by his disciple’s resolve. Without holding anything back, he provided Lin Huang with several rare inheritances and auxiliary methods that could increase the compressibility of the Qi Sea, smoothing the path toward forming a high-grade Golden Core.
This was the limit of what he could personally offer.
Inheritance was one thing. Pills were another.
Unfortunately, Wang Chen was not an alchemist. If he were, Lin Huang would already be bathing in medicinal fragrance. But reality was cruel, and the best Wang Chen could do was guide him with knowledge rather than substances.
While thinking about this, a dangerous thought suddenly surfaced in his mind.
What about spending another millennium on the first floor... and learning alchemy from scratch?
The moment the idea appeared, Wang Chen ruthlessly crushed it.
No.
Absolutely not.
The aftereffects of spending one hundred thousand years in isolation were still lingering in his soul. Even now, there were moments when time felt strangely distorted to him. Going back in for another extended stay was pure self-inflicted torture.
Some things, even immortals, needed a break from.
Across from him, Ancestor Yun sat upright, his posture rigid and his expression unmistakably tense. The old man looked as though he were sitting on a bed of needles rather than a luxurious jade chair.
After hesitating for a moment, he finally spoke.
"Senior... would you like another cup of tea?"
His tone was careful. Too careful. The kind of politeness reserved for beings who could erase your entire bloodline with a thought.
The words caused Wang Chen’s lips to twitch uncontrollably.
It was deeply uncomfortable.
To put it into perspective, imagine someone with a head full of snow-white hair, whose age you couldn’t even begin to estimate, calling you "Senior" with a respectful smile.
That was exactly how it felt.
Wang Chen resisted the urge to rub his temples.
This world really is upside down...
He wanted to retort, Who are you calling senior, old man? Just look at this shiny black hair on my head.
Sadly, those words could only be swallowed.
In the cultivation world, age meant nothing. Seniority was dictated solely by strength. And judging by the way Ancestor Yun behaved, the old man had clearly misunderstood something fundamental—he genuinely believed Wang Chen was an Immortal-level existence.
Thinking about it more carefully, Wang Chen couldn’t even blame him.
If he were in Ancestor Yun’s position, witnessing what had happened in Ancient Sword City, he would have reached the exact same conclusion.
With a composed expression, Wang Chen accepted the cup of Nine Lavender Soul-Calming Tea that Ancestor Yun offered with both hands. A faint fragrance drifted upward, cool and soothing, carrying traces of spiritual serenity that seeped directly into the soul.
He took a slow sip.
The warmth spread gently through his chest, easing the lingering fatigue that had refused to fully dissipate ever since the Nether Realm’s creation.
Not bad, he thought silently.
Thud.
Thud.
The dull, rhythmic sound echoed through the hall, heavy and deliberate, like a funeral drum being struck over and over.
Not far from his seat, Rong Lua and Young Master Yun were kneeling on the wooden floor, their foreheads striking the surface again and again without pause. Their movements were stiff, mechanical, driven by guilt rather than coercion.
Blood seeped from their brows, staining the polished wood a dark crimson.
They did not stop.
They did not complain.
They did not even dare to look up.
No matter what their intentions had been, they had failed in their duty. They had left Lin Huang alone when things turned dire. In their eyes, no excuse could justify that mistake. If they wanted to continue standing in Wang Chen’s presence, they had to pay a price—one way or another.
What made the scene even heavier was the fact that Wang Chen had not demanded this.
He hadn’t scolded them.
He hadn’t questioned them.
He hadn’t even mentioned the lapse.
They were punishing themselves.
After another quiet sip of tea, Wang Chen finally spoke.
His voice was calm, low, and carried no visible anger—but it weighed far heavier than a shouted reprimand.
"Such a major lapse," he said slowly, setting the cup down, "must never happen again. Understood?"
The words fell softly, yet struck like thunder.
Thud.
Both Rong Lua and Young Master Yun froze. Then, without hesitation, they rose to their feet and moved to stand silently at the side of the hall.
They did not wipe the blood from their foreheads.
They did not offer excuses.
They simply stood there, backs straight, eyes lowered—accepting the judgment they knew they deserved.
Watching the scene unfold, Wang Chen couldn’t help but shake his head inwardly.
How shameless... to dare put on a show right in front of me.
Of course, he knew exactly what Rong Lua and Young Master Yun were doing. This was no genuine self-punishment. With their cultivation, even smashing their heads against a mountain wouldn’t have left a mark, let alone a simple wooden floor. The blood, the rhythm, the exaggerated sincerity—it was all calculated.
A performance.
But Wang Chen didn’t bother to expose it.
Intentions mattered more than theatrics, and since they had already understood where they went wrong, there was no need to press further. He allowed the matter to pass, neither forgiving nor condemning them openly. That silent indifference was punishment enough.
Just as his thoughts settled, Wang Chen’s gaze drifted upward.
Through the open sky above the Yun Family estate, a familiar rotund figure was descending at great speed, robes fluttering awkwardly as spiritual light wrapped around him.
Fatty Yang Kai...
What does he want now...?
Although the question surfaced naturally, Wang Chen already had a rough idea of why the man had come. Given recent events, it was almost inevitable.
He was just about to rise from his seat and greet his "benefactor" when a familiar, cold chime echoed directly inside his mind.
Ding!
The sudden sound froze his movement mid-rise.
...
[Ding! Your disciple Lin Huang has successfully formed his Golden Core.]
[Golden Core Quality: Top-tier.]
[Core Diameter: One meter.]
Wang Chen’s pupils constricted slightly.
A one-meter core.
That wasn’t just talent—that was monstrous.
Before Wang Chen could even digest that information, the notifications continued mercilessly.
...
[Ding! 10x reward applied.]
[Your Golden Core is undergoing evolution.]
[True Force compression in progress...]
[New Golden Core diameter achieved: 50 centimeters.]
A sharp pressure surged through his spiritual space.
Wang Chen’s breath paused for a brief instant.
Fifty centimeters.
That was no longer within the bounds of common sense.
...
[True Core Fire has evolved.]
[New Flame Acquired: True Divine Flame.]
A faint, imperceptible heat bloomed deep within him—pure, calm, and terrifyingly refined. It did not burn wildly like ordinary flames, nor did it roar. It simply existed, sovereign and absolute, as if fire itself had acknowledged a higher order.
...
[The probability of lifeforms being born with minor providence has increased significantly.]
The final message faded.
Silence followed.
Wang Chen slowly exhaled, his expression unreadable, but deep within his eyes, something stirred.
Li Mei...
You really didn’t disappoint me.
Only now did he fully realize something subtle yet profound.
The Garden of Eternity was no longer just growing.
It was beginning to bless.
And that—more than any cultivation breakthrough—was the most terrifying change of all.
The sudden barrage of notifications flooded Wang Chen’s vision without warning, layers of blue light stacking over one another in rapid succession. He halted mid-motion, a faint crease forming between his brows as confusion flickered across his face.
That confusion lasted less than a heartbeat.
Joy surged up like a tidal wave.
Lin Huang... He succeeded.
Not just any Golden Core—but a top-tier divine core.
For a brief moment, Wang Chen forgot everything else. The chaos of the Thousand Sword Sect, the political undercurrents, even the exhaustion that still clung to his soul faded into the background. There was only a quiet, genuine satisfaction blooming in his chest.
He was happy for him. Truly.
The rest of the rewards—the evolution of his own core, the refinement of the flame, the increase in providence—were nothing more than icing on an already perfect cake.
A disciple walking his own path, reaching such heights through sheer perseverance.
That alone was worth more than a thousand breakthroughs.
...
Across from him, Ancestor Yun had been on the verge of asking why "Senior" had suddenly risen when his expression abruptly stiffened.
Then—
A searing, invisible heat engulfed him.
It wasn’t physical. His robes didn’t singe. His skin didn’t blister.
But for one horrifying instant, Ancestor Yun felt as if his very soul had been thrown into an inferno—burned, refined, and on the brink of being erased entirely.
His heart nearly stopped.
Cold sweat drenched his back as panic surged. He hastily examined his body, then his meridians, then his dantian.
Nothing.
No injuries.
No scorch marks.
The burning... it had gone deeper.
With trembling breath, Ancestor Yun closed his eyes and turned his perception inward, directly inspecting his soul body—the place he had not dared to look at too closely for years.
And then—
He froze.
The spiderweb-like cracks that had plagued his soul for centuries... were gone.
They were not sealed.
Neither were they suppressed.
Simply Gone.
As if they had never existed.
His soul was smooth, complete, radiant with a vitality he had not felt since his youth.
"How... is this possible...?"
The words slipped out of his mouth, hoarse and disbelieving.
Those cracks were the reason he had secluded himself. The reason he had abandoned further breakthroughs. The reason he had resigned himself to stagnation.
And now... they had vanished without warning.
There was no pill he had taken. No formation activated. No external healing artifact in use.
Only one explanation remained.
Ancestor Yun slowly opened his eyes.
His gaze drifted, almost unconsciously, toward Wang Chen—who stood silently, staring into the distance with an unfocused, empty look, as if his mind was far removed from this place.
At that moment, Ancestor Yun’s breathing turned shallow.
So it really was him...
Not an intentional act.
Not a targeted technique.
Just... collateral.
A side effect of that terrifying flame.
Ancestor Yun lowered his head slightly, awe and fear intertwining in his chest.
Just what kind of existence... have we invited into our family?
And for the first time since he stepped out of seclusion, he felt something unfamiliar rise within him.
Hope.
