Mo Han was spending hours inside the private room, sitting cross-legged with his eyes fixed on the glowing circular crystals.

One after another, battles of elder rank cultivators flared into being—fiery arenas, roaring crowds, the sharp clash of qi against qi, blades and spells tearing the air apart. His focus never wavered. Every strike, every misstep, every faint hesitation of the fighters was etched into his mind like words carved on stone.

Outside the private room, however, patience was beginning to wear thin.

Two women lingered in the Academy Hall, each with their own hidden intentions.

On one side, near a lamp-lit corner, Jumi—disciple of Elder Park—pretended to chat idly with a passing servant. Her hands rested casually on the table, but her gaze flicked again and again toward the closed door of Mo Han's room. She was here with purpose. Elder Park had ordered her: "Find out his background. If possible, drag him into dual cultivation in public, humiliate him. Destroy his reputation before it rises."

Yet, no matter how long she waited, the door didn't open.

"What is he doing inside for so many hours?" Jumi whispered under her breath, feigning disinterest to anyone watching. She sipped her tea, but her brows furrowed. "Is he seriously spending the entire day watching… battle scenes? Not chasing women, not showing off, not trying to gather partners like every other man who enters our sect? Tch. How dull… or how dangerous."

She had already gathered some whispers about Mo Han and his companions. He wasn't prowling brothels, wasn't seducing disciples—he was locked away studying, absorbing every detail of higher-ranked battles like a starving man devoured bread. The discovery made her uneasy.

"Seems like today is wasted. But tomorrow, Mo Han… tomorrow you'll taste both humiliation and pleasure at once," she murmured to herself with a sly smile, before standing and slipping out of the hall.

On the opposite side, where shadows pooled and lantern light barely reached, another woman sat like a queen among her servants.

Lady Ku lounged in comfort on a long cushioned chair, draped in scarlet silk. Around her, three male disciples hovered like obedient slaves: one waving a wind fan to keep her cool, another massaging her arms, and the third kneeling at her feet rubbing fragrant oils into her legs. Their flattering words buzzed like insects, but her sharp, glittering eyes were fixed on only one thing—the door to Mo Han's private room.

Her lips twisted. "What the hell is he doing inside? It's nearly dark. By the heavens, is he sleeping in there?"

One of the men chuckled and leaned close. "Lady Ku, why not just open the door and unleash your charm? A single seduction spell, and he will crawl to you. He's a newcomer. He won't resist."

Lady Ku's gaze snapped to him, cold and sharp as a dagger. "Silence. Do you think taming a man like that is so simple? He hasn't spared me a single glance all day. If I act rashly, I'll only look desperate."

Her pride burned hotter than her desire. From the moment she had seen Mo Han, she had wanted him—not just because Bai Rui had tasked her with ensnaring him, but because she, Lady Ku, had never been ignored by a man before. His indifference stung more than any insult.

Another servant came rushing in, bowing deeply, whispering hurriedly into her ear. Lady Ku's eyes lit up as she heard the report.

"So… you came from the Pink Blossom Tree Sect, did you?" She laughed lowly, a sultry, mocking sound. "Hah! Then you'll be easy prey. Those little flower-maidens can never satisfy a man fully. I'll take care of your… hunger, boy. I'll tame your rod until you can't live without me."

Her eyes gleamed with hunger as the door to Mo Han's room finally creaked open.

Mo Han stepped out, tall and calm, his aura composed. His mask covered his face, but his bearing alone drew eyes. Lady Ku leaned forward, her body a promise of temptation, but like every time before, he walked past her without a flicker of interest. Her teeth ground together, fury bubbling under her smile.

He strode straight to the front desk and placed a neat stack of crystals before the old registrar of the Academy Hall.

"Here are the hundred crystals. Prepare another hundred. I want to see more elder rank battles."

The elder blinked, startled. "Hundred? Again?" His gnarled hands shuffled through the pile. "You've been here since dawn, boy. Watching these battles for so long will twist your qi if you don't rest."

Mo Han's voice was steady. "Then give me more tomorrow. I'll return."

The elder sighed, half-annoyed, half-curious. "You're relentless… but before that, tell me—what's your current cultivation level?"

Mo Han answered without hesitation. "Seventh-class disciple."

A low murmur rippled among those listening nearby. A seventh-class disciple, yet spending spirit stones like water, studying elder battles like he belonged among them?

The old man, whose name was Linga, stroked his beard and shook his head. "Then listen to me, boy. You must first focus on climbing to elder rank yourself. The bottleneck between disciple and elder is a pit that swallows most geniuses whole. Even if you watch a thousand battles, without reaching that rank, they'll remain as stories to you."

Mo Han inclined his head respectfully. "Your words are true. But I believe preparation is never wasted."

Elder Linga's eyes softened a fraction. "Hmph. At least you're not arrogant. Tell me—what's your weapon?"

Mo Han hesitated, then replied, "Mostly sword, with flame affinity."

Linga tapped the desk. "Good. Then tomorrow, I'll sort out records of flame-aligned fighters, swordsmen, those you can actually learn from. Watching them will give you more value for your stones than drowning yourself in endless battles."

Mo Han cupped his hands deeply, bowing slightly. "Thank you, senior. That will save me much time. I am grateful."

The elder waved him away with a grunt, though a faint smile tugged at his lips.

Mo Han turned and walked calmly toward the exit.

Behind him, Lady Ku's nails dug into the armrest of her seat. He hadn't even glanced at her once. Not once. The heat of desire and humiliation burned her cheeks.

As he disappeared through the doors, she whispered under her breath, "You can ignore me all you like, Mo Han. But no man has ever escaped my grasp. Not you… not anyone. I'll make you crawl sooner or later."

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