Chapter Sixteen: Conspiracy

Ling Tian silently gave Mu Qingcheng a thumbs up in his heart. No wonder Mu Qingcheng, despite her youth, could manage the vast Qingcheng Group with such impressive performance. To be so decisive and capable of making tough choices—such people are destined for great achievements.

"Then I'll accept it. Alright, it's already late, I need to rest," Ling Tian said, putting away the crest serpent king and leaving the security office. He drove toward the orphanage. For someone like Ling Tian, who devoured spiritual energy, even though the orphanage’s accumulated energy over the years had been mostly absorbed, it was still, compared to other places, the best option.

By the time Ling Tian arrived at the orphanage, it was already four in the morning. The sky was gray and dim, and the sun would rise in just over an hour. It was the perfect time for cultivation.

He entered the orphanage silently and made his way to the small wooden hut in the backyard. Sitting cross-legged, Ling Tian took out the crest serpent king and examined it carefully. This immature serpent king had actually cultivated an inner core; though only the size of a grain of rice, it contained a vast amount of spiritual energy.

"What a waste," he lamented. "If the crest serpent king had matured, I could have used its inner core to advance directly." But then he thought, if it were fully grown, those ordinary people wouldn’t stand a chance—no matter how many, they'd all perish. Even legendary ancient martial cultivators could not guarantee a perfect victory.

The best way to use the inner core was not to absorb it directly, which would waste most of its energy, yielding at best one-tenth. Instead, by combining it with other precious medicinal herbs to refine a pill, its effects could be maximized.

However, Ling Tian currently lacked suitable herbs, and given his current strength, he could not guarantee a one hundred percent success rate in refining pills.

Therefore, without absolute confidence, Ling Tian chose to store it for now. The crest serpent king had a unique benefit—even after death, as long as the body was not damaged, it would not rot. Its potent venom made it impervious to any bacteria or virus.

After putting away the serpent king, Ling Tian took out a miraculous stone, about the size of an adult’s palm, entirely golden. At such close range, it gave him a sense of clarity and refreshment, as if bathed in spring breeze.

"This is truly a treasure," Ling Tian said excitedly. "It can assist cultivation, refine the spiritual sense, making it stronger and reducing the risk of inner demons." For cultivators, the greatest obstacle is the heart’s demons. If unshackled by them, as long as there are enough resources, Ling Tian’s strength would grow rapidly.

He placed the stone to the side, letting it aid his cultivation, and then produced a white jade slip, about the size of a finger. When he searched for dragon veins in Xianyang, this was the only valuable thing he found, opening his eyes to a different world.

Yet, with his current strength, he could only access part of the techniques recorded within. The rest remained unreadable. The method described was the Chaos Formula, and the visible portion divided levels just like ancient martial cultivators: Qi Refinement, Qi Transformation, Postnatal, and Prenatal. Ling Tian was currently at the early stage of Qi Refinement; if his injuries healed, he would be at the mid-stage, nearing the upper stage.

Time flew by, and when Ling Tian awoke from his meditation, it was already seven in the morning. After a night of cultivation, aided by the mysterious stone, his strength had not advanced much, but his spiritual sense had grown considerably. The strength of one's spiritual sense is a key measure of a cultivator’s power.

A powerful spiritual sense quickens cultivation and grants better control over one's abilities.

Ling Tian stood and stretched, his joints cracking, feeling energetic and refreshed. The only regret was that while his injuries had stabilized, full recovery would still take considerable time.

Once healed, Ling Tian could reach the mid-stage of Qi Refinement, close to the upper stage, rather than the current lower stage. Though it’s just a single level difference, the gap in strength is substantial.

Many people spend their whole lives cultivating and never reach the threshold of ancient martial arts. Some barely make it as lower-stage Qi Refinement warriors, but further advancement may take decades—unless one is a genius or has ample resources of pills and such.

Leaving the hut, Ling Tian noticed the spiritual energy here had diminished significantly.

At seven-thirty in the morning, the old director was leading the children through morning exercises in the courtyard. The children, innocent-faced, smiled brightly, but their expressions betrayed an underlying sense of inferiority. Most had been abandoned, growing up without parents, and compared to ordinary children, their self-esteem was more fragile.

"Time to eat," the director, panting, called out, inviting the children to breakfast. Thanks to Ling Tian’s support, the orphanage’s meals had greatly improved. Previously, it was just steamed buns, millet porridge, and pickled vegetables. Now there was milk, millet porridge, cake, and eggs.

Ling Tian approached the director, smiling, "Director, haven’t you been exercising lately? You’re out of breath after just a little activity."

The director, seeing Ling Tian, showed little surprise. Ling Tian had always been elusive as a child; the director was long used to it. "You can't fight age—my body just doesn’t obey anymore. Come, let’s have breakfast together," he said with a smile.

They entered the dining hall, got their meals, and sat down.

"Anyone causing trouble at the orphanage lately?" Ling Tian asked, sipping his porridge.

"No trouble, but lately a group has been hanging around the gate, setting up stalls. I’m worried this is a plot by the Gu family," the director said, sounding anxious. He didn’t want anyone ruining these hard-won good days. The children were still young and couldn’t withstand upheaval.

"I’ll take a look," Ling Tian said, putting down his chopsticks and leaving the dining hall. The director hurried after him.

Sure enough, at the gate, four young men dressed in flashy, unruly fashion wandered back and forth, neither entering nor leaving, their intentions unclear.

"Every day they just loiter like this. Who knows what they’re up to," the director remarked.

"Such tricks might fool others, but not me," Ling Tian scoffed. Their purpose was simple: to monitor the orphanage, keeping tabs on its activities. "It's nothing major. Soon, I’ll resolve this completely," he reassured.

The director nodded, saying, "I trust you. Still, the past few days a woman has kept calling, claiming her child is here and wants to take them home. Given the current circumstances, I haven’t agreed."

Ling Tian sensed something was off. It was normal for someone to reclaim a child from the orphanage, but at this critical moment, it seemed too coincidental.

Maybe he was overthinking it. Ling Tian shook his head.

"Could there be a plot behind this?" the director asked nervously. Because of the Gu family, he was jumpy; any disturbance made him anxious.

"I’m not sure. Here’s what we’ll do: since I’m here today, call the woman and have her come over. Once she arrives, any scheme will become clear," Ling Tian said.

The director acted quickly and, after the call, reported, "She says she’ll be here in ten minutes."

"So fast? Clearly, she was already prepared," Ling Tian said gravely.

Less than ten minutes later, a yellow sedan pulled up at the orphanage. The four young thugs at the gate didn’t block her; instead, they eagerly opened the door. This convinced Ling Tian even more that something dubious was going on.

The car stopped, and out stepped a woman in her thirties, dressed flamboyantly.

"You must be the director. I’m Huang Ting, the one who called you. Xiao Dingdang is my child. If you agree, I’ll take her today," Huang Ting said urgently.

"You’ll need to follow procedures. Once final confirmation is made, you’ll be able to take the child," the director replied.

"Why make it so complicated? Isn’t it all about money? Name your price—I’ll give you extra for the child’s living expenses," Huang Ting said dismissively, pulling out a checkbook from her bag, ready to pay whatever the director asked.

Just then, six journalists carrying cameras and camcorders suddenly burst in, swarming around.

"Don’t be nervous. I invited these reporters. I wanted to thank your orphanage and bring more public attention," Huang Ting said calmly.

Ling Tian’s lips curled in a sneer. "Is it really necessary to make such a spectacle? By the way, why did you abandon Xiao Dingdang in the first place, and now want to take her back?"

The question struck a nerve. Huang Ting glared at Ling Tian, irritated. "Just bring the child out. We need a mother-daughter reunion."

The director, thinking it a good thing, quickly called for Xiao Dingdang. She was a five-year-old girl, chubby-cheeked like a porcelain doll, utterly adorable.

Xiao Dingdang stood shyly beside the director, her big, clear eyes betraying nervousness. It was clearly her first time seeing so many strangers.

"Xiao Dingdang, be good. Come to mommy," Huang Ting squatted down, resembling a predatory wolf disguised as a grandmother, holding out a lollipop to ease the unfamiliarity.

Xiao Dingdang didn’t understand what was happening and looked to the director.

"Child, this woman might be your mother," the director said, hoping to find Xiao Dingdang a good home. Even if Huang Ting wasn’t her biological mother, perhaps she could be a good adoptive one.

Xiao Dingdang stepped forward hesitantly, and Huang Ting suddenly darted over, grabbing her in a tight embrace. Then, Huang Ting did something that left everyone completely bewildered—she lifted Xiao Dingdang’s arm and raised her shirt.