Hao launched another needle. This time it flew faster, more focused. It shot straight toward Tian Lu’s left side.
But Tian Lu twisted just enough to let it pass.
Hao narrowed his eyes.
“Getting faster.”
“Or.” Tian Lu said, pausing mid-step. “Predictable.”
“Employer.”
Hao clicked his tongue. “That’s not fair.”
“Life… isn’t.”
They locked eyes for a second.
Then both returned to their stances without another word.
Each for their own reasons.
Each holding their own secrets.
One training to grow stronger.
The other dodging solar needles to pass time with an immortal employer who liked to play pretend.
But things didn’t stay calm for long.
The training got faster. Wilder. Hao’s control over the Sunflare Needle Strike got even better.
Tian Lu?
He never stopped dodging.
It didn’t matter how fast or unpredictable Hao became.
He was sweating now too.
Not because it was difficult – but because he was certain.
This was a test.
An immortal like Hao would not train so fiercely for no reason. He was raising the pressure on purpose.
Making Tian Lu feel the heat. Slowly increasing the difficulty, like forging a weapon from raw ore.
Training him from the bottom.
Rebuilding his instincts.
Pushing him past his past limits.
Tian Lu’s breath steadied. He understood. He respected it.
As expected… of an unfathomable being.
And Hao?
He was too deep in the flow.
Days passed.
Their training in the storage area turned into a regular routine. Light needles flew like rain.
Metal chains clinked from Tian Lu’s chakrams, spinning to block now and then.
One day –
It happened.
A surge of qi burst from Hao’s body. His breathing paused.
His meridians trembled.
Golden light poured from his dantian, erupting all at once.
Hao broke through!
From the peak of the 9th Stage of Spirit Awakening Realm, Hao soared into the 1st Stage of Saint Apprentice Realm!
’I did it!’
And yes, fine – he ate a lot of instant noodles during the process.
But let me have this moment, okay?!
He still trained!
Still suffered!
Did the system see how hard his life was? Like when he burned his tongue for the third time.
Or when his solar needle did a U-turn and smacked him in the leg like a homing pigeon with a grudge.
Clearly, the heavens were testing him with minor inconveniences disguised as tragedy.
Yes, the path of cultivation was not for the weak.
Hao cultivated diligently every day!
Tian Lu paused, glancing over at the sudden golden glow.
“Employer.”
“Breakthrough?”
Hao grinned.
“Sure did.”
[Congratulations, Host. You have reached the 1st Stage of Saint Apprentice Realm.]
[You are now permitted to step outside the store door. Please be aware: once you exit, you are on your own. The system will not be assisting you outside.]
[Prepare accordingly, host. You may face danger at any time.]
Hao blinked. ’That sounds… dramatic.’
[It is also strongly recommended that Host brings an employee with you as protection. However, employees are not free.]
[You must pay them, host. With crystals. From your own salary.]
[One hour of protection costs one crystal. Overtime, hazard bonuses, and emotional damage are calculated separately.]
[You are not running a charity. And they are not your loyal harem members, blind followers, or cannon-fodder side characters who work for free out of love and devotion.]
[They have lives. Standards. Pride.]
[As the Storekeeper of the Dimensional Convenience Store, it is your duty to promote fair pay for fair labor.]
Hao choked on his breath.
’W-What’s with the sudden roast?!’
He rubbed his temples, groaning in defeat.
’Swear to god… system definitely has some kind of grudge against me.’
It was genuinely tweaking sometimes.
Every time I feel good about something – bam! System shows up like, “Ah yes, good progress. Now suffer, peasant.”
Still… what the system said actually made sense. Verbal slap to the face aside, if the system wasn’t going to defend him out there, Hao had no choice but to stay twice as careful.
Being paranoid? Nah, that was just his survival tactic now.
That meant preparing ahead of time – and bringing someone to watch his back wouldn’t be a bad idea.
He thought through his options.
Xixi could probably deal with most of the trouble they might face, considering her realm put her above many cultivators, even though she was still so young.
But that idea was a no-go.
If both of them left, who would manage the store?
And more importantly – Xixi was still on the run.
Her background was etched clearly in Hao’s mind.
If any of her potential pursuers showed up while they were outside, it wouldn’t just put him at risk. It would tie her down too.
’Then it’s either Tian Lu or Kurome.’
Tian Lu… was a different kind of problem.
Hao scratched his head, thinking hard.
Tian Lu, however, was a whole different matter. Hao scratched his head, thinking about how his crimson-wrapped guardian’s vibe screamed “don’t mess with me” to everyone he passed.
And let’s be honest, Tian Lu’s appearance wasn’t exactly low-key. He’d stick out like a sore thumb and attract unwanted attention everywhere they went.
Not to mention, Tian Lu would probably make it awkward, following Hao around like a shadow.
’Unless he hides and follows me like some sort of silent bodyguard.’
’But that might just give me more trouble than it’s worth. Imagine the chaos if he tries to show up in his full executioner gear.’
On the other hand, Kurome could easily pass as Hao’s pet – an unassuming, normal-looking companion. If she stayed in her house cat form, no one would bat an eye.
’Yeah… Kurome’s the safer bet. She won’t attract a crowd.’
He let out a sigh.
’It’s settled. Kurome it is.
But just as quickly, Hao held the thought.
Now wasn’t the time to rush out.
His cultivation had just broken through. The Solar Qi inside him was still shifting and restless, like fire dancing over fresh oil.
It wouldn’t do to head out before stabilizing it properly.
And besides… he’d saved up some crystals.
Wasn’t this the perfect time to look for another martial technique?
There were a lot of options. Some too flashy, some too wasteful.
A few sounded powerful, but burned through lot of qi.
Then, he found one.
Sunblind Burst.
The moment Hao saw the name, he paused.
The technique had a quiet confidence about it.
Not destructive, not elegant. Just one purpose – disappear when you needed to.
Exactly his style.
It was a technique that compressed solar qi into a tight knot inside the dantian.
Then – boom.
It burst outward in a blinding explosion of light, overwhelming the senses of anyone nearby for just one or two seconds.
But those seconds?
More than enough.
Enough to slip a grip, break a formation lock, interrupt a casting hand, or simply run for your life without looking back.
There was no direct damage.
Just pure, concentrated disorientation. A miniature sun to the face.
Inside a five-meter radius, anyone without spiritual defense or caught off guard would stagger, clutch their eyes, or stand frozen in confusion.
It didn’t look cool. It didn’t crush enemies.
But it kept you alive.
And Hao appreciated that.
Especially the part where it said it worked best with solar qi users. Because of the Solar-Ascendant Constitution, he could activate it almost instinctively, as if it were built into his body.
A perfect fit.
But of course, nothing good ever came without a few side effects.
It drained qi fast. Not something you could spam.
And if he used it recklessly, like with his eyes open or in the middle of a panic, he’d get stunned too.
Just a little bit. Half a second.
But sometimes that was all it took to lose.
Worse, the technique didn’t shine as bright in daylight. Literally.
In direct sunlight, the flash was just another sparkle in the air. Like trying to impress someone with fireworks at morning.
Still, for indoor fights, tight alley escapes, or sudden ambushes?
It was gold.
Lore Entry: “I would rather lose my eyesight than my life.” – Hei San.
Hei San was not a genius. He was not famous.
He was barely competent.
A drunkard. A gambler.
A runner-up in almost every street fight he joined.
One night, after cheating a cultivator in a spiritual dice game, he got tied to a pole in Blackiron Square – execution at dawn.
But right before the blade fell, Hei San’s latent solar qi exploded.
The light was so bright it blinded half the square. Eyebrows were fried.
One sect elder tripped into a soup cart and never spoke again.
And in the middle of commotion?
Hei San vanished.
Years later, he refined that panic-induced flare into a proper technique – Sunblind Burst.
He used it 27 times to escape duels, debts, lovers, and bounty hunters alike. While others called it cowardly, Hei San proudly referred to it as strategic brilliance.
He eventually retired and opened a tavern in the Floating Ember Plains.
Menu? Only grilled fish.
Walls? Covered in portraits of his blinded enemies.
No one knows what happened after the tavern exploded during a sect reunion brawl.
Some say his final escape left half the region sunburned.