I Just Wanted To Live but I Somehow Became Better Than the Protagonist

“Let Ye Yong handle it. Long Tian must have concealed something when he entered the sect; having Ye Yong step in should force out all his true strength.”

“A mere Long Tian doesn’t deserve Ye Yong’s attention. I think Feng Ming from the Dao Exhibition Hall would be a better match for Ye Yong this round.”

“Shameless old thief, if I recall correctly, Feng Ming is your grandson, yes? What, do you wish to use your power for personal gain, letting Ye Yong guide him for free?”

“Not at all.” The steward spoke without a hint of shame, stroking his beard with a serious demeanor. “I simply do not want Feng Ming to rank too high; I wish for him to stop at the top 25 and learn with humility.”

“Pah…” His companion scoffed. “If you ask me, my grandson should face Ye Yong in a match. Indeed, I do not mince words; I want Ye Yong to instruct him. That boy has learned from who knows where, full of pride, unable to heed my words. Being pointed out by Ye Yong in front of so many will surely make him strive to correct his faults and devote himself to his training.”

“Everyone, show some respect and let my disciple have this opportunity.”

“Get lost! What are you even worth!”

The stewards gradually fell into a quarrel. They looked down on the rankings and rewards of the sect’s competitions; their focus lay on the joint competition three months hence, all eager for Ye Yong to guide their own grandsons and disciples.

Ye Yong had become the focal point of recent discussions. His guidance would undoubtedly resonate with the youth, helping them perform better in the upcoming joint competition.

“Enough! This clamor is unbecoming.” At that moment, an elder spoke up, his gaze deep and distant, casually remarking, “Let Jin Liang from the Sword Pavilion be Ye Yong’s opponent.”

The stewards fell silent collectively. The elder’s surname was Jin, and who Jin Liang was needed no explanation. The stewards, lacking both strength and status compared to the elder, could only comply, writing the names of the two together.

—

14 A Young Master and a Commoner

Ye Yong was utterly unaware that he had brushed against the gates of death. The butterfly effect had indeed unfolded as he wished; he had become a coveted figure for the higher-ups to train their juniors. However, there were only so many who could break into the top 50, and as long as Long Tian kept winning, they would inevitably face each other.

Thus, Ye Yong had already prepared to lie low. If he truly encountered Long Tian, he would deliberately lose, of course putting on a show. If Long Tian mistakenly believed Ye Yong was trying to sabotage him, it would leave him in tears of frustration.

As for how to respond if questioned about deliberately losing to Long Tian later? Ye Yong had his excuses ready, roughly stating that he needed to conserve strength for the joint competition. The sect’s competition, in a sense, was merely internal squabbling; no matter how strong one was, it had its limits. The joint competition was the real deal, one that could bring glory to the sect, and he believed others would surely accept such reasoning.

With his next steps already mapped out, Ye Yong felt no anxiety about who his opponent might be… It should have been this way. However, when the list of the top 50 was announced, and he heard the steward read out each name, his expression shifted from calm to sheer terror.

Of course, this terror was something only Ye Yong could perceive. One of the positive effects of his divine body was its ability to mask emotional fluctuations, making it difficult for others to see through his true thoughts. Yet, if the emotional turmoil was too great, the feelings that needed to be sensed would still be felt.

Like Qin Shiming, who noticed a fleeting look of terror in Ye Yong’s eyes. She immediately leaned in to whisper, “What’s wrong? Has something happened?”

“Nothing.” Ye Yong shook his head, restoring his usual appearance of “confidence,” “intelligence,” and “everything under control.”

The isolation array had just been lifted, and Qin Shidream cast a few glances at Ye Yong, but did not inquire further.

On the other side, Ye Mao muttered to himself, repeating the name of the opponent he was about to face: “Long Tian? It’s actually him.”

Ye Mao had already broken through to the fourth layer of crystallization. His mastery of a profound-level sword technique had reached a peak, and he had also made small progress in an earth-level sword technique. Coupled with some advanced sword and body techniques, his strength was considerable. It was no surprise he could make it into the top fifty.

Ye Mao had investigated Long Tian. This man was of average appearance, without any background, and had offended Bai Song of the Bai family, along with several other family disciples. He was a pitiful existence, always having to lean against the wall, fearing a knife in the back from others. Yet, it was this very existence that had made it into the top fifty and was now matched against him.

“Ye Yong’s judgment of people is never wrong; Long Tian must have some hidden secret.” Still, Ye Mao remembered Ye Yong’s warning: do not provoke Long Tian. So, upon learning the list, he felt only surprise, without much thought.

Not provoking was one thing; competing was another. Ye Mao would not intentionally let Long Tian win; that was a matter of strength.

“Ye Young Master.” Shortly after the list was released, a few male cultivators approached Ye Mao.

“Something on your mind?” Ye Mao recognized them as Bai Song’s little lackeys.

“Bai Young Master asked us to convey a message. He hopes you can humiliate and teach that Long Tian a harsh lesson on the competition stage. If you can seriously injure him, ruin his foundation, that would be even better.” The male cultivator was straightforward, not mincing words.

With the Ye family’s background and Ye Mao’s current cultivation level, as long as he didn’t kill Long Tian in the duel, he would face no more than a trivial punishment. For these wealthy young masters, targeting a disciple without a background was purely a matter of mood.

“You won’t be working for nothing; here are five Snow Ginseng Pills…”

Ye Mao glanced at the vial the other had produced.

Snow Ginseng Pills were third-grade elixirs; even of the lowest quality, one was worth several mid-grade spirit stones. Five Snow Ginseng Pills to deal with a background-less disciple—Bai Song was indeed generous.

In the past, Ye Mao would have agreed without a second thought. Although the Bai family was slightly weaker than the Ye family, it was an easy task that could yield rich rewards and a new ally—a deal with no losses. But now, Ye Mao had come to respect Ye Yong. Even if he hadn’t reached the point of treating Ye Yong’s words as scripture, he at least held them in his heart and would not go against them. Thus, he waved his hand, rejecting the proposal.

“I don’t want to make a mistake in front of so many people.”

“Ye Young Master, five mid-grade third-grade elixirs are quite valuable. It’s just a matter of teaching that blind fool a lesson… that shouldn’t be too difficult, right?” The male cultivators thought Ye Mao was trying to raise the stakes and were somewhat displeased.

“Get lost. This is my duel; I’ll do as I please. It’s not your place to meddle. Don’t bother me.” Ye Mao snorted coldly.

These male cultivators were of higher cultivation than Ye Mao, older in age, and had entered the sect earlier, belonging to the previous generation of seniors. But with the Ye family’s power behind him, they dared not voice their anger, leaving only a few mutterings of “ungrateful” and “you’ll regret this” before turning away.

Ye Mao watched them, and after returning to Bai Song’s side, they occasionally pointed at him, likely saying some unpleasant things.

Tch.

Ye Mao looked down with disdain. Did you really dare to come and provoke me?

He closed his eyes, deciding to meditate and adjust his state of mind.

His duel with Long Tian was set for the tenth match; it wouldn’t be long before he had to take the stage.

“Master Mao.” At that moment, Ye Gou approached Ye Mao’s side.

“What do you want?” Ye Mao replied, a hint of impatience in his tone.