The wind carried the scent of rich soil and blooming life as Little Earth—Xiao Tu—stepped onto the edge of the Verdant Continent. The air here was unlike anything he had ever felt: thick with vitality, so full of life essence that each breath nourished his core. Beneath his feet, even the pebbles hummed with dormant spirit energy, as if the land itself recognized him.
His boots sank slightly into moss-laced soil. Trees stretched high into the sky, their trunks covered in glowing green runes, and strange, docile beasts grazed peacefully nearby. Rivers ran clear with spirit water, and distant mountains pulsed with low, rhythmic energy—earth veins, the locals called them.
"Such a rich place..." Xiao Tu whispered, eyes wide. His earthen brown robes fluttered softly in the warm breeze. "This is where my path begins."
Unlike his brothers, whose spirits burned like fire or soared like wind, Xiao Tu's strength was subtle—steady, quiet, and enduring. He lacked sharp ambition, but his understanding of the Earth Dao was profound. For years, he'd quietly nurtured his own cultivation technique, something new—the Great Destruction Steps, a method that condensed vitality and power into every step and strike. It was incomplete, still evolving within him.
He smiled, patting a small sack of seeds tied to his waist. "Let's find somewhere to plant you, little friends."
For three days, he wandered through the fertile lands, observing spirit farmers, talking to passing cultivators, and absorbing the culture. The Verdant Continent was governed not by one empire, but by various clans and sects, each tied to an elemental affinity—Wood, Earth, Metal, and Life.
He avoided the bustling city-states, instead heading toward the Emerald Plains, where mid-level sects took in wanderers. Here, he hoped to find a home, a place where he could grow at his own pace.
On the fourth day, he came upon a group of young cultivators fighting off burrowing stone beasts—rhino-sized creatures with quartz spikes on their backs. Without hesitation, he stepped forward.
"Circle formation!" he shouted.
Though the youths were wary of the stranger, they obeyed instinctively. Xiao Tu slammed his foot on the ground, releasing a pulse of earthy energy that shifted the terrain. The beasts, suddenly off-balance, collapsed into pits that opened beneath them.
The fight ended in moments.
One of the girls, her cheeks flushed, bowed. "Thank you, senior! Without you, we'd have suffered heavy injuries."
"I'm not your senior," Xiao Tu chuckled, scratching his head bashfully. "I'm new to this region. Just trying to help."
A boy with sharp brows stepped forward. "Your control over terrain… it's rare. Are you perhaps a rogue cultivator?"
"I suppose so. I'm looking to join a sect."
"Then come with us," the boy said. "We're outer disciples of Stone Gate Sect. It's not a top sect, but we respect the Earth Dao and welcome those who live in harmony with nature."
Xiao Tu nodded with quiet joy. "Lead the way."
The Stone Gate Sect rested at the base of Mount Zhulong, a massive earth-rich mountain that served as both a training ground and spiritual anchor. Its sect buildings were carved into the cliffs, connected by natural bridges and tunnels reinforced with formations.
The entrance was simple: a stone arch with three engraved characters—Stone, Gate, Sect—and two guardian statues, half-covered in moss.
As he stepped across the threshold, Xiao Tu felt a pulse run through him. A low, earthy hum resonated with his core.
This place… it suits me.
The sect leader, Elder Mu Yanshi, was a short, wiry man with moss-like green hair and bark-textured skin. He observed Xiao Tu silently as he demonstrated his techniques.
"You cultivate the Earth Dao... but your method is self-created?"
"Yes, Elder. It's called the Great Destruction Steps. Still unfinished, but I've trained in it for years."
Elder Mu stroked his chin. "Interesting. We seldom accept rogue cultivators directly, but your foundation is stable, and your heart seems true. I will approve your entry—as an inner disciple. But know this: you will face envy. Grow strong quickly, or be swallowed."
Xiao Tu bowed deeply. "I understand. Thank you."
Over the next few weeks, Xiao Tu adapted to sect life. He cultivated at dawn, completed menial chores, and studied ancient texts in the earth pavilion. He rarely argued, always offered help, and often left spirit flowers for the old cook in the kitchens.
Even among cultivators, Xiao Tu's kindness stood out.
On a routine mission to harvest soulroot grass, he was partnered with other disciples—one of whom was a young woman with clear, silver-brown eyes and flowing robes embroidered with mountains. She moved with silent grace and spoke little.
"This is Lan Yue," a senior explained. "Daughter of the Lan Clan, which controls the Earth Ridge Valley. Very gifted, but…" He lowered his voice. "She keeps to herself."
Xiao Tu greeted her respectfully. She gave a small nod, then turned away.
Their first mission passed uneventfully. But a week later, they were assigned another together, and then another. Gradually, she began to speak more, asking about his technique, his thoughts on vitality flow, and his background.
"My parents were farmers," he said one evening as they sat beneath a spirit tree, watching fireflies made of qi. "I never had grand ambitions. I just want to protect what I grow."
Lan Yue tilted her head. "Even now? With strength, you could rise above the clans. Crush your enemies."
Xiao Tu frowned. "That's not my way. The Earth doesn't strike without cause. It shelters more than it destroys."
Her lips curved into the faintest smile. "You're… interesting."
From then on, she invited him to cultivate together, to share meals in her family's guest quarters, to walk beneath the luminous moon-grass fields. Her voice became softer. Her laughter more frequent. She gave him rare minerals to enhance his techniques. She touched his hand during a spar. She looked into his eyes for just a moment too long.
And Xiao Tu—gentle, sincere Xiao Tu—fell.
But hidden behind Lan Yue's every smile was calculation.
She reported everything to her father, Lan Shixiong, the stern and ambitious head of the Lan Clan.
"He's naïve," she told him one night in a private hall of jade and stone. "But powerful. He's developing something new—destructive and raw. If we obtain it, the Lan Clan could rival even the Pillar Sects."
Lan Shixiong's eyes gleamed. "Good. Gain his trust. Make him love you. When the time is right… take it."
She hesitated only a moment before nodding. "Yes, Father."
Back at the sect, Xiao Tu was drawing the final symbols of his cultivation art in a scroll of earth-hardened bark. Lan Yue entered quietly, her expression soft.
"What are you writing?" she asked, kneeling beside him.
"My legacy," he said with a smile. "For you."
She leaned her head against his shoulder.
And behind her soft smile… a flicker of guilt.
[To Be Continued]