Jian Wuxin stepped into the shared residence quietly, the stone under his feet warm with the slow pulse of a spiritual vein running beneath it.
Three quarters formed the corners of the small inner courtyard. His room—simple, clean, bare—was on the right. The energy here was calm and steady. Just enough to cultivate without distraction.
As he placed his pouch and robe on the bed, a door creaked open.
From the central room stepped a tall young man in neat sect robes, his long sleeves folded crisply behind his back. His features were sharp, expression unreadable, like a blade always sheathed but ready.
Their eyes met.
The youth gave a polite nod. "New arrival?"
Jian Wuxin returned the nod. "Jian Wuxin."
The boy's voice was smooth, not unfriendly. "Li Shen. I've been here two years. If you need to find the task board or contribution hall, just follow the stone path east."
"Appreciated."
No judgment. No disdain. But Jian could feel it.
He was new. Unknown. Untested. Nothing more than a quiet ripple in their still water.
Before another word could be said, the door on the left swung open.
A slightly shorter youth stepped out, stretching his arms overhead with a yawn. He had a pill pouch slung around his shoulder and an easy smile that didn't seem forced.
"Eh? A new neighbor already?" He stepped over, offering a hand. "Wei Qing. I make pills for the outer sect's low-grade needs. Don't worry—only three explosions last week."
Jian smirked and shook his hand. "Jian Wuxin."
"Good to meet you, Jian. You're lucky to have this vein—we're not at the center of the sect, but this spot's stable. Just cultivate regularly and keep up with tasks, and no one will bother you."
They chatted a few moments more, then returned to their rooms.
Behind closed doors, Jian sat in silence on his stone bed.
> Both of them are stronger than me right now, he thought. Their auras are refined. They've stabilized in Qi Refining. Probably stages six or seven.
He was only at stage five.
They didn't treat him poorly—but in their eyes, he was still just a new arrival.
> They don't know what I carry.
The Soul Devouring Banner pulsed faintly inside his storage pouch, a whisper tickling his thoughts.
> Soon.
But not yet.
For now, he was just a quiet outer disciple settling into his quarters.
Let them believe he was average.
For now.