The third day on the road, Haotian walked alongside the High Elder and two senior elders, the rest of the group keeping formation behind them. The wind carried the sound of boots and hooves over packed earth, and for a time, no one spoke. Then the High Elder broke the silence.
"Tell me what happened in the Forbidden Realm—everything."
Haotian inclined his head slightly. "When we entered, the realm's outer layers were already unstable. The sovereign's temple stood in the center—massive, sealed, guarded by traps that hadn't been triggered in centuries. Several sect groups, ours included, pressed deeper, but the temple's wards drew us together."
He spoke without flourish, but the words painted the path clearly. "The moment the last seal was broken, the Sovereign—an ancient warden spirit—awoke. It was bound to guard the temple's heart, and its strength dwarfed the combined forces inside. I fought it directly, and the battle collapsed half the central chamber."
The elders' eyes sharpened, but Haotian continued, voice even. "The destruction freed something far worse—an abyssal beast that had been imprisoned beneath the temple since before the realm's creation. The monster was… not meant for that place. It carried a presence that eroded qi and tore through the realm's stability. Even the Sovereign turned to attack it."
Feng Lanyue glanced forward, lips pressed together in a rare moment of silence. An Yuerin's calm expression didn't change, but her hands tightened slightly on the strap of her pack.
"In the chaos, sects turned on each other or fled. Our group held position until the abyssal beast was driven back—whether killed or sealed again, I cannot say. But the realm was collapsing by then. We left with the survivors we could gather."
Huo Zhanfeng let out a low whistle. "And here I thought the Sovereign was the worst of it."
Tu Jianhong gave a grunt. "An abyssal… explains why the air stank of void when we pulled back."
Jin Xuanming's voice was dry, but the edge in it was clear. "A fight like that will have been felt far beyond the realm."
Lan Shuyin's gaze shifted to Haotian, steady, protective. "You survived both. That's enough for now."
The High Elder absorbed the account in silence for a long moment before nodding. "Understood. We will report this to the Sect Master in full. There will be… considerations."
The rest of the journey passed in measured silence, the weight of Haotian's account lingering with each elder. Camps were made, watches kept, but conversation stayed light—no one eager to revisit the image of the abyssal thing clawing its way into the realm.
Days later, the mountains of the Burning Sun Sect rose against the horizon, their peaks catching the gold of dawn. As they crossed the outer gates, bells rang high and clear, disciples lining the courtyard to greet the returning party.
The High Elder returned the formal salutes, leading the group through the inner paths straight toward the council hall. Inside, the senior elders awaited, seated in a broad half-circle, their eyes weighing the returning team as much as their words.
Formal congratulations came first, acknowledgments of the Forbidden Realm's trial and the honors brought to the sect. When the accounts were given, the High Elder recounted Haotian's description of the Sovereign and the Abyss Monster with precise care, omitting nothing of consequence. The murmurs among the elders at the mention of the abyssal presence were sharp, but disciplined.
When that business was concluded, Lianhua stepped forward. "Elders, during our stay at the Azure Sky Sect, we learned of a method they use to strengthen their sect's resources and reputation."
Feng Lanyue's eyes brightened as she added, "They operate a pavilion open to outsiders, selling weapons, armor, pills, and even techniques. Spirit stones flow in constantly."
An Yuerin's voice was calm, almost soothing. "Their disciples can also exchange contribution points for equipment—an incentive to train and contribute more."
Huo Zhanfeng grinned, leaning forward. "And if we had such a place, we could put Haotian's work on display. People would line up for it."
Tu Jianhong gave a short, approving nod. "It would draw customers from beyond our borders. An opportunity worth seizing."
Jin Xuanming's tone was cool but deliberate. "It's also a political statement—showing our level of craftsmanship while revealing only what we choose."
Lan Shuyin's gaze swept the elders with quiet conviction. "It would strengthen the sect and provide for our disciples. There's little downside."
Haotian's voice was steady when he spoke last. "If permitted, I will contribute pieces for display and sale."
The elders exchanged glances, murmurs shifting between approval and calculation. The High Elder leaned forward slightly, his fingers steepled. "This… bears consideration. If we proceed, it will be done in a way that elevates the sect's standing and secures our position. You will be informed."
The matter closed with nods and measured expressions, but Haotian could see in their eyes that the seed had been planted.
The peaks of the Burning Sun Sect rose in the distance, their ridges carved in gold by the morning light. As the returning party passed through the outer gates, bells rang high and clear, the sound rolling across the courtyards. Disciples lined the paths to greet them, voices carrying praise and congratulations.
At the head of the inner stair, a figure stood waiting—a tall man in flowing crimson robes embroidered with the faint shimmer of flame patterns that moved like living fire. His hair was black streaked faintly with silver, his presence calm but immense, like a mountain wrapped in the sky.
The Sect Master had returned.
Whispers rippled through the gathered disciples. Dao Comprehension Realm. His breakthrough had been the talk of the sect for weeks, but most had not yet seen him since his emergence from seclusion. Now he stood watching, eyes sharp and unreadable.
As the group approached, the High Elder and senior elders bowed deeply. Haotian mirrored them with measured respect, the Six Elemental Guards following suit.
"You've returned," the Sect Master said, his voice carrying easily without effort. "And you've brought the sect honor in the Forbidden Realm." His gaze shifted to Haotian. "You will tell me of it yourself."
They followed him into the grand council hall, its bronze inlays catching the light from high windows. The elders took their seats in a half-circle, but the Sect Master remained standing at the center dais until all was still.
"Speak."
Haotian recounted the events—how the groups converged at the Sovereign's temple, how the ancient warden spirit awoke, and how the abyssal beast broke free from its prison beneath. His voice stayed even, but the weight of the scenes he described pressed into the room: the Sovereign's overwhelming strikes, the abyss monster's void-tainted presence, the chaos as sects turned on one another, and the desperate retreat before the realm collapsed.
The Sect Master listened without a word, his eyes fixed on Haotian as if measuring not just the truth of his words, but the strength behind them.
When the account ended, he gave a single, deliberate nod. "You survived what should have killed you. You brought others out alive. The sect will remember this."
The High Elder then stepped forward. "Sect Master, there is another matter. During our time in the Azure Sky Sect, our disciples saw a method they use to greatly increase their sect's revenue and standing—a trade pavilion open to outsiders and integrated with their internal contribution point system."
Lianhua stepped in to elaborate. "It is well-structured and draws merchants and cultivators from far beyond their borders. We believe the Burning Sun Sect could implement something similar."
Feng Lanyue's eyes lit with enthusiasm. "It would also give us a way to showcase the sect's best work to the world."
An Yuerin spoke smoothly. "And drive disciples to earn more contribution points, strengthening the sect from within."
Huo Zhanfeng grinned. "If we put Haotian's work up for sale, we'd have people from the capital lining up."
Tu Jianhong rumbled in agreement. "It would attract customers from far outside our lands."
Jin Xuanming's tone was calculated. "And it's a political signal—showing our craftsmanship without revealing too much."
Lan Shuyin smiled faintly. "It benefits both the sect and our disciples. The risk is minimal if managed properly."
The Sect Master turned his gaze back to Haotian. "And you? What say you?"
"If permitted," Haotian said evenly, "I will contribute select pieces for display and sale."
For a moment, the hall was silent except for the faint crackle of the torches along the walls. Then the Sect Master's lips curved into the faintest of smiles.
"A trial," he said at last. "One season. The pavilion will open in the outer market district. Haotian's work will be its flagship. We will watch who comes, who buys, and who tries to learn more than they should. If the trial prospers, it becomes permanent. If it draws danger, we close it without hesitation."
The High Elder inclined his head in agreement. "We will begin preparations immediately."
The Sect Master's gaze lingered on Haotian for another breath before he spoke again, his tone lower but no less firm. "Do not think this will be without consequence. Power draws power—and greed. Be ready."
Haotian met his eyes without flinching. "I will."
The decision was made, and with the Sect Master's authority behind it, the Burning Sun Pavilion was already set on its course.
The Sect Master did not let the decision linger in words alone.
"High Elder," he said, his voice cutting clean through the air, "take charge of the location search. I want the outer market district surveyed before nightfall. Choose a site that commands attention without being too exposed to easy surveillance. Elder Zhen, you'll oversee construction adjustments—no pavilion of ours will open without reinforced wards and discreet anti-theft formations. Elder Qiu Rong, you will manage recruitment for staff and ensure their loyalty is beyond question."
Each elder bowed in turn, their voices answering in unison, "Yes, Sect Master."
When the council broke, the Sect Master turned to Haotian. "Select your works. The first impression will decide how many come through the doors in the weeks after the opening."
That same afternoon, Haotian began reviewing the pieces in his private workshop. Lianhua joined him, walking the rows of weapon racks and armor stands in silence, her eyes following the subtle differences between his earlier works and the latest forged after his cultivation breakthroughs. The Six Elemental Guards moved among them as well—Feng Lanyue testing the balance of blades, An Yuerin checking the grain of bracer leather, Huo Zhanfeng giving a satisfied grunt as a sabre's edge flashed in the light.
In the end, Haotian's selection was deliberate: a display of weapons and armor that represented both elegance and raw power, none revealing the true depths of his forging techniques, but each still superior to most sect artisans' finest work. To diversify, he also prepared regular batches of healing pills—potent enough to draw attention for their higher efficacy without hinting at the even greater formulas in his possession.
For the next two days, the chosen items were moved into the newly secured pavilion site. Lianhua and the Six Elemental Guards took to arranging the displays themselves. Lan Shuyin insisted on keeping the layout open so the central pieces could be admired from every angle. Tu Jianhong made certain heavier armor was presented on reinforced mounts. Jin Xuanming adjusted the lighting crystals to throw precise highlights across blade edges. Even Huo Zhanfeng, normally content to joke or boast, personally polished each weapon before it went on the stand.
Meanwhile, Elder Qiu Rong brought in a team of vetted disciples to serve as attendants. They were trained in both polite reception and the discreet handling of customers from rival sects.
When the work was complete, the Sect Master himself came to inspect the space. He stepped through the entrance, his gaze sweeping over the layout, the gleam of steel and gold, the scent of pill cases freshly sealed with medicinal qi. After a long moment, he nodded once.
"This will do."
The pavilion's sign was unveiled that evening: The Radiant Forge Pavilion — carved in flowing calligraphy across a dark flamewood board, the edges inlaid with thin lines of gold. It caught the setting sun in such a way that the name seemed to burn from within.
The grand opening was set for two days' time.
The morning of the grand opening, the Radiant Forge Pavilion's entrance was already lined with people before the doors had even been unbarred. The streets of the outer market district thrummed with voices—merchants in rich traveling robes, rogue cultivators with their faces half-covered by scarves, and sharp-eyed strangers whose manner spoke of sect training even if their colors were hidden.
Feng Lanyue stood by the entrance with two of the attendants, her easy grin masking the subtle way she scanned the crowd. An Yuerin, poised at the reception desk, kept a ledger open and her senses sharper still, ready to note any unfamiliar qi signatures. Huo Zhanfeng leaned against a pillar near the door, cracking his knuckles with a look that said he was just waiting for trouble to try its luck. Tu Jianhong remained silent but imposing in the corner, while Jin Xuanming's gaze flicked from person to person, catching the smallest tells in posture and speech. Lan Shuyin moved between the displays with a motherly smile, greeting customers while quietly steering them away from items that weren't for sale.
When the Sect Master arrived to cut the ceremonial ribbon, the sunlight caught the gold inlay of the pavilion's sign, sending a warm gleam across the faces of the crowd. His presence alone was enough to hush the street for a breath before the attendants swung open the doors.
The rush inside was immediate. Customers flowed through the aisles, some murmuring in awe at the gleam of the blades and armor, others hovering over the glass cases of high-grade pills. Rival sect members in disguise tried—and failed—to mask their shock at the quality.
Within the first hour, Haotian had already finalized the sale of two full armor sets and several premium weapons. By midday, a group of merchants from three different provinces were bidding against one another for the same pair of bracers. Haotian, noting the enthusiasm, thought to himself: What if we held an auction? The idea began to take shape in his mind—more than just sales, an event that could draw the most powerful buyers into one room. He decided he would bring it to the Sect Master later.
For now, the opening pushed forward at full pace. The attendants worked quickly, the guards subtly managing the flow of customers, and the shelves began to empty. By evening, the last of Haotian's prepared stock was gone.
Faced with the demand, he ordered the setup of a request counter—customers could place orders for weapons, equipment, or pills. Prices were listed in spirit stones, with adjustments for those who provided their own materials. Word spread fast; by the next morning, the request counter had its own steady line.
To meet the demand, Haotian began teaching the forging halls and alchemy halls his crafting processes—carefully edited versions of his true methods, strong enough to keep the pavilion's quality unmatched but still guarding his deepest secrets. With their combined output, the flow of items stabilized.
The success was immediate and tangible. Spirit stones poured into the sect, and the Sect Master, seizing the momentum, issued a public decree: every disciple, outer and inner court, would now receive a monthly spirit stone allowance based on rank, along with a Crystal Vein Pill to aid cultivation.
The effects rippled outward. Training yards were fuller than ever, cultivation halls alive with energy. Outer court disciples pushed themselves harder, inner court disciples began making visible breakthroughs, and elders—some of whom had been stuck for years—advanced a minor realm within weeks. Even the High Elders quietly reaped the benefits, their cultivation edging upward.
In the council hall, there was quiet, almost disbelieving talk that at this pace, the Burning Sun Sect might reach the qualifications for a higher-tier ranking.
And all of it had begun with a single pavilion.
Three days after the grand opening, the pavilion's accounts were already being called a "miracle ledger" by the sect's treasurers. Yet Haotian's mind was already moving further ahead. The success of the Radiant Forge Pavilion had proven demand—and revealed something else: the hunger for uniqueness.
When he stepped into the Sect Master's audience hall, the man was seated with the High Elder to his right, reviewing the latest reports from the outer markets. The moment Haotian saluted, the Sect Master's gaze fixed on him, steady and curious.
"You have something," he said, voice more a statement than a question.
Haotian nodded. "Sect Master, the pavilion has exceeded expectations. But our greatest advantage isn't in the regular flow of goods—it's in the works that cannot be replicated. My truest creations. We can disguise them as rare treasures found in ruins or forbidden realms. I suggest we auction them… not for steady trade, but as one-time opportunities."
The Sect Master's brow lifted faintly. "An auction."
"Yes," Haotian continued. "With the right invitation list, it would pull merchants, sect elders, clan heads, and rogue masters from across the cultivation world. A single item could draw bidding wars worth thousands of spirit stones—and because these pieces are unique, there's no fear of mass replication or political pressure for equal treatment. One owner, one claim. We could even auction rare relics acquired from expeditions. Every quarter, the event repeats, keeping us in their minds."
The High Elder's eyes narrowed, considering the implications. "That would also give us a reason to invite—or refuse—certain powers into our sphere. Whoever attends would be entering our grounds willingly, knowing they are guests."
The Sect Master's smile was sharp, approving. "And the rarer the offering, the greater the pull. Done correctly, this will be more than trade—it will be leverage."
He stood, the movement alone carrying command. "We'll host the first auction within the month. You, Haotian, will prepare the cornerstone items. The elders will compile an invitation list. The High Elder will oversee the logistics—security, wards, and the seating arrangements. The auctioneer will be one of our own, and every item will be displayed with care to entice and unsettle in equal measure."
Haotian bowed slightly, a glint of focus in his eyes. "Understood."
In the days that followed, the sect shifted gears as if the idea had been waiting for someone to speak it aloud. Invitations were drafted with veiled formality, each carrying the Burning Sun seal in gold lacquer. Runners left the sect at dawn with messages destined for the halls of merchant princes, the vaults of hidden clans, and the mountain gates of rival sects who would never admit curiosity yet would come all the same.
Meanwhile, Haotian worked in his private forge and alchemy chambers. He crafted pieces that blended artistry and lethality—blades whose edges shimmered with layered elemental qi, armor that responded to the wearer's breath, and talismans etched with shifting runes that seemed to read the thoughts of whoever held them. From his stores, he brought out treasures taken from past conquests: a soulbound jade ring from a collapsed ruin, a set of spirit-silk banners that could amplify formation arrays, a beast core from a slain abyss creature.
Alongside the weapons and artifacts, he refined pills in small, perfect batches: rejuvenation pills that restored qi faster than anything sold in the markets, breakthrough pills tuned for specific realms, and a single high-grade creation whose recipe had never been revealed outside his own mind.
When the Sect Master inspected the first batch of auction items, his expression was rare and genuine satisfaction. "With these, the world will remember this event long after the gavel falls."
Preparations continued, and the news—though discreet—spread as intended. By the end of the second week, the sect was already receiving "casual" inquiries from powers far beyond their normal circles. The auction was set to be more than a sale. It would be a statement.
Back in his private quarters, Haotian laid out the storage rings and jade boxes taken from the Azure Sky Forbidden Realm. Weapons, talismans, and artifacts glimmered under lamplight, but his focus was on a smaller, carefully sealed compartment. Inside, nestled in preservation jade, were the fruits and the sapling he'd taken from deep within the Sovereign's temple garden.
He lifted one of the fruits into his palm. Its skin glowed faintly, a sheen of spiritual light dancing over its surface. Without hesitation, he bit into it. A rush of sweet liquid filled his mouth, so crisp and cooling it seemed to pour down to his core. The flavor carried a faint echo of mountain spring water and the warmth of a sunbeam on new leaves.
Even before swallowing the last bite, he could feel it—the Heaven-Sundering Trinity Scripture beginning to stir, his meridians opening wider, his blood running hotter. His cultivation realm pressed against its current boundary, and his physique felt as though it had been reforged from the inside out. He slowed his breathing, kept his will sharp, and stopped the breakthrough before it could run its full course.
He stood, resolve forming instantly.
It didn't take long to find Lianhua. She was in her quarters, the lamplight turning her profile into soft curves of shadow and warmth. When she looked up, he was already holding out the fruit.
"For you," he said simply.
She studied it for a moment, curiosity in her eyes, but accepted it without question. The moment she bit into it, her gaze widened. She swallowed the rest in a few quick bites, and the fruit's qi surged through her body like a river freed from a dam.
"Cultivate," Haotian said.
She sat cross-legged, and the air thickened almost immediately. Spiritual energy from the surrounding area whipped into her body, the patterns of her breathing shifting to a deep, resonant rhythm. Moments later, her eyes snapped open.
A shockwave exploded outward, rattling the wooden beams, sending dust from the rafters in a fine mist, and causing the ground to tremble beneath their feet.
Haotian's eyes widened. Nascent Soul Realm… and not just entry, but a clean, perfect breakthrough to the initial stage.
She stood slowly, her expression bright with wonder as the power coursed through her. Then she moved without hesitation, closing the space between them and wrapping her arms around him. He felt the fierce, unspoken joy in the embrace, and his own arms closed around her in return.
"Thank you, Haotian… for this, for always being here." Her voice was low but steady, the kind that carried deeper than a shout. She tilted her head slightly, pressing her cheek against his chest, as if listening to the steady beat beneath. "I'm grateful to have you… more than I can say."
Inside, her thoughts wandered—not to the cultivation she had just gained, but to the man holding her. If only this could last forever… The warmth in her chest was different from the surging qi of her breakthrough; it was quieter, and somehow more dangerous, because she never wanted to let it go.
Outside, the commotion had drawn attention. Disciples from nearby quarters clustered at the doorway, peering in. Someone muttered under their breath, "Really… this late at night?"
Haotian turned his head just enough to fix them with a cold, razor-edged glare. It was the first time he had ever shown them outright displeasure. The crowd froze, and then scattered so quickly it was as though they'd never been there at all.
When he looked back, Lianhua was smiling up at him. She loosened the embrace but didn't step away, her gaze lingering with quiet affection.
That was when Haotian remembered.
He took her hand without explanation and led her through the cool night air to his own courtyard. There, from a sealed herb preservation box, he revealed the prize he had guarded most carefully: a young tree sapling, its leaves faintly luminous, the roots wrapped in enchanted soil that still pulsed with spiritual life.