The first rays of dawn spilled over the jagged ridges of Cloudpine Peak, turning the mountain's mist into a veil of pale gold. The sect's bell had yet to toll, but Lin Xuan's eyes were already open.
The cold from the stone courtyard seeped into his bones, the kind that clung stubbornly even after the sun rose. Sitting cross-legged, he forced his breathing into a steady rhythm, drawing in the faint strands of heaven-and-earth essence that drifted through the early morning air.
The energy was thin here in the Outer Court—so thin that each cycle through his meridians felt like scooping water from a dry well—but Lin Xuan persisted. Every thread mattered. Each completed circuit made his meridians a fraction stronger, his body a touch more resilient.
He exhaled slowly. A faint trace of warmth lingered in his dantian, flickering like a single candle in a dark hall. The first layer of the Body Tempering Realm… finally stable.
A small victory, but in the sect, even small victories could mean the difference between being noticed or forgotten.
---
The Murmur Beneath the Skin
He rose to his feet, brushing frost from his robe, ready to begin the day's endless chores. Yet before he could take his first step, a pulse rippled through him—soft, almost like the beat of another heart inside his chest.
His hand instinctively found the inner pouch beneath his robe. There, nestled against his skin, lay the Void Spirit Bead.
It had been in his possession for only a month, but in that short time it had become an unshakable presence in his life. The night he'd acquired it still played in his mind with unsettling clarity: a storm raging in the lower forest, the shadow of a wounded man collapsing at his feet, and the bloodied fingers pressing the bead into his palm with the ragged whisper: "Hide it… until you're ready."
Lin Xuan had tried to treat it like a simple trinket. He'd failed. The bead had other plans. Two nights ago, it had stirred faintly during his cultivation, guiding the flow of essence through his meridians in a way that felt both alien and instinctive.
And now, once again, it pulsed.
He drew his hand back quickly, scanning the courtyard. No one had noticed. Yet the feeling in his gut was undeniable—the bead was not dormant, and whatever it held would not remain hidden forever.
---
The Weight of the Outer Court
The Outer Court of Azure Spirit Sect was not a place for the weak-hearted. The courtyards were cramped, the training resources meager, and the elders rarely spared more than a glance for disciples without exceptional talent.
Inner Court disciples enjoyed wide courtyards, personal training grounds, and high-grade cultivation manuals. Core Disciples had entire peaks to themselves. Outer Disciples? They fought for scraps—second-hand manuals, diluted pills, and weapons dulled from years of use.
And still, there were those who would rob you of even that.
"Lin Xuan!"
The voice was sharp, cutting through the crisp morning air. Lin Xuan turned to see Li Cheng swaggering toward him, flanked by two cronies. The older disciple's smirk carried the confidence of someone used to throwing his weight around without consequence.
"You skipped fetching the training spears yesterday," Li Cheng said, stopping close enough for Lin Xuan to smell the stale wine on his breath. "I had to do it myself. Do you think you're too good for chores?"
"I was assigned latrine duty," Lin Xuan replied evenly. "You can confirm with Elder Wei."
Li Cheng's lip curled. "Elder Wei isn't here right now." His hand shot out, gripping Lin Xuan's collar. "Apologize—and maybe I'll forget about it."
---
The Strike
Once, Lin Xuan might have lowered his head and swallowed the insult. But the long nights of cultivation had hardened something inside him.
"Move your hand," he said quietly.
The courtyard stilled. A few disciples paused in their drills, watching with interest.
Li Cheng's smirk widened, mistaking Lin Xuan's calm for fear. "Or what—?"
Lin Xuan's palm shot forward. The strike wasn't flashy, but the controlled burst of essence behind it was enough to send Li Cheng stumbling back, his eyes wide in surprise.
"You—" he began, but a sharp voice rang out.
"Enough! Back to your drills!" Elder Wei's tone cracked through the air like a whip.
---
Under the Elder's Gaze
Drills that morning were harsher than usual. Stances held until muscles quivered, footwork repeated until legs screamed, and Elder Wei correcting even the smallest mistakes with ruthless precision.
Lin Xuan endured it all, focusing on each breath, each shift of weight, each flicker of essence.
When the others were dismissed, Elder Wei's voice called out: "Lin Xuan. Stay."
The courtyard emptied quickly, leaving only the two of them. Elder Wei's sharp gaze studied him in silence before he finally spoke.
"That strike you used on Li Cheng—unorthodox," the elder said. "Not part of the sect's standard forms."
Lin Xuan hesitated. "I… found a way to channel essence more efficiently through the palm."
"That is not something you simply 'find'." Elder Wei's eyes narrowed. "Show me."
---
The Bead's Touch
Lin Xuan stepped to the practice post. Drawing a slow breath, he guided his essence from his dantian through his meridians. As it gathered in his palm, the Void Spirit Bead gave a faint, almost imperceptible pulse. The flow sharpened, condensing more than it should at his level.
His palm struck the post with a solid thud, leaving a faint dent in the wood.
Elder Wei's brows lifted slightly. "You've touched upon the basics of Essence Conduction. At the Body Tempering stage, that's rare." He paused, then said, "Come to the north training ground tomorrow at dawn. Don't be late."
---
A Thread of Purpose
As Lin Xuan left the courtyard, the bead's pulse settled, as though satisfied.
For the first time since entering the sect, Lin Xuan felt the faint tug of a path ahead—not clear, but real. And somewhere deep inside, he knew that path and the Void Spirit Bead were intertwined.
Whatever secrets it held, whatever dangers it might draw, he would not waste the opportunity.