Feilan Sect – General Affairs Hall
Li Qingshan stood alone before the worn stone steps of the General Affairs Hall, the air laced with faint spirit qi and the solemn weight of bureaucracy. The building was functional rather than grand, a place meant for business, not ceremony. Disciples bustled in and out, robes fluttering like cranes on wind.
He carried with him a modest pouch containing 1000 low-grade spirit stones—the necessary tribute for official recognition. No one bowed to him, no cultivators greeted him with respect. He was, to them, merely a wandering cultivator seeking legitimacy. And that was precisely how he intended to be seen.
Inside, a mid-stage Qi Refining cultivator sat behind a jadewood desk, robed in Feilan Sect livery. He was the deacon of the General Affairs Hall, a cultivator named Deacon Mu. His gaze barely flicked up as Qingshan entered.
"You seek registration?"
Qingshan nodded calmly. "Yes. My family wishes to formally establish a clan under Feilan Sect's protection. We have found suitable land and will offer the appropriate tithe annually."
Deacon Mu gestured. "Name of the clan?"
"Luoshan Li Clan," Qingshan replied smoothly. "Located east of the Jade Brook Valley, near the southern ridge beneath Mount Luo."
The clerk nodded, etching the name into the jade slip with a flick of his qi-infused pen. "Clan head?"
"Li Qingshan."
The deacon raised an eyebrow. "And your background, elder? Affiliated sect? Past merits?"
Qingshan's smile was faint, reserved. "I've lived a quiet life in isolation. Formerly a wandering alchemist and cultivator in the borderlands. Never joined a sect officially."
Mu frowned slightly, but Qingshan's presence was calm—measured, like still water hiding depth. Despite the deacon's cultivation, he couldn't sense anything unusual.
"A donation of 1,000 spirit stones is required for clan registration, along with a yearly tax based on spiritual yield and population. You'll also have to accept the Feilai Sect's protectorate status."
Qingshan passed over a sack of stones without hesitation. "Understood."
With a hum, the clerk stamped the slip with the Feilai Sect's seal. A pale glow flared before dimming. From a nearby cabinet, he retrieved a blackwood token carved with the characters for
"Clan registration acknowledged. Li Clan recognized under Feilan Sect's jurisdiction. You may claim minor land rights in the region designated. Status: Low-tier Qi Refining Clan."
"Your claim covers roughly 12 li of fertile valley land. You'll have minor rights over the seven surrounding Soul Condensation clans, though they are not bound to you unless they swear vassalage. Four Qi Refining clans operate nearby—trading and occasional friction are expected. Do not interfere with the Xiao Clan's interests, and you will be fine."
Qingshan gave a small bow. "The Crimson Xiao Clan sits above us, and above them, the Feilai Sect. The Luoshan Li Clan will abide."
The clerk passed him the token and a jade map with tax and contact nodes. "You're officially recognized. Try not to die in the first ten years. Makes the records messy."
Qingshan allowed himself a rare smile. "We'll try."
—
Mount Luo – One Week Later
The land was theirs.
Nestled at the foot of Mount Luo, surrounded by shallow forests and sloping ridges, the newly founded Li Clan settled into their new role. Spirit veins here were faint, but the relic, buried deep beneath the central hall, quietly enriched the soil and air.
By sundown, the token hung proudly from the central beam of the Li family's newly constructed hall. The valley had changed over four years—not in form, but in spirit. Terraced fields glowed with gentle qi. Bamboo watchtowers overlooked the winding paths, and the homes of vassal cultivators dotted the lower slopes like scattered pearls
The Li family's power was now veiled by bureaucracy and legality. They were no longer fugitives or backwater recluses—they were officially part of the Feilan Sect's hierarchy, albeit at the bottom rung. It was a mask they wore willingly.
Seven small Soul Condensation families now fell under their jurisdiction—none of them powerful, but loyal for now. The local structure was clear:
Li Clan – Qi Refining Realm Clan, lords of the Luo Valley region.
Below them:
Wu Family – Farmers and herbalists.
Tan Clan – Weapon smiths and metalworkers.
Lin Village – Hunters and beast tamers.
He Clan, Yao Clan, and two others – Minor cultivator families.
Nearby Forces:
Green Willow Sect – A minor Qi Refining sect northeast of them.
Iron Arm Clan – Martial cultivators in the west.
Cloudreed Pavilion – Formations and talisman users.
Falling Moon Sect – Alchemical arts.
Above them:
Crimson Xiao Clan of Redfern Hills – A Foundation Establishment family with a long legacy.
Feilan Sect – Their patron sect, and the superior of the Xiao Clan.
For now, the balance was maintained. The Xiao Clan had acknowledged their existence with a single envoy and a formal letter—no threats, but no welcome either. The implication was clear: behave, pay your tribute, and stay in your lane.
Li Clan Manor – Internal Discussion
In the central hall, the family gathered as dusk painted the sky with fading gold.
Li Qingshan placed the jade registration token on the table. "We've taken our place in the world now. It's a small one—but it's real."
Zhenyuan's eyes were calm, his mind already playing through contingencies. "Seven families below us, four sects around us, and the Xiao Clan above. It's a crowded forest."
Jian spoke next, arms crossed. "As long as we're not too loud, we'll avoid predators. But the relic—"
"—must remain hidden," Hui finished, his voice unusually serious.
Zhenyuan nodded. "It's buried beneath the core foundation of our ancestral hall, masked by formations. The relic has concealed itself and so unless those high and mighty cultivators come themselves they won't be able to find it"
Li Qingshan gave a faint smile. "Good. Then we endure. Let them underestimate us. The Li Clan will not fall easily."
Outside, the banner of the newly formed clan fluttered in the mountain breeze—black ink upon pale silk, bearing the character Li (李) surrounded by stylized flames. A reminder of their quiet flame—burning slow, but never fading.
A few days later
In the courtyard, Hui sparred with a pair of young disciples who had joined the clan, his strikes sharper and calmer than before. He was now at the 9th stage of Soul Condensation. Jian, sitting beneath the pear blossom tree, refined talismans with a steady hand, his cultivation at the 8th stage.
And in a sealed chamber behind the main hall, Zhenyuan sat cross-legged within a glowing circle of runes. His body trembled, qi pulsing in waves as he stood at the threshold—trying to break into the Qi Refining realm.
Outside, Li Qingshan looked out over the land they now governed. A registered clan. A name in the records. Quiet, steady growth. Just as he intended.
The relic—hidden deep beneath the house's foundation—no longer whispered.
They had been hunted once. But not again. Now, they were rooted. They were prepared.
And when the world came calling again, the Luoshan Li Clan would not be so easily brushed aside.
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