The early morning mist still clung to the mountainside, draping the Jade Spirit Sect's outer grounds in a pale shroud. From afar, the peaks looked like islands adrift in a sea of clouds. Somewhere within that sprawling wilderness of pavilions, training yards, and winding stone paths, Lin Xuan sat cross-legged in his modest courtyard, eyes shut, his breathing steady.
The faint thrum of energy within his meridians was different today. It wasn't that he had broken through to another realm overnight — no, such things required patience, accumulation, and precise timing — but the Void Spirit Bead resting deep within his dantian pulsed faintly, as though answering a call he could not yet hear.
He opened his eyes, letting out a long breath. "Still not ready to reveal yourself?" he muttered under his breath, his hand unconsciously brushing over his abdomen. The bead had come to him in strange circumstances, a discovery hidden in the depths of an abandoned cave years ago, long before he joined the sect. Back then, he had thought it no different from a useless ornament. Now, in the structured path of cultivation, its occasional stirrings made him suspect it was anything but ordinary.
A loud knock on the wooden gate jolted him from his thoughts.
"Outer Disciple Lin Xuan!" A voice carried over the courtyard wall, accompanied by the sound of impatient tapping.
Lin Xuan rose and slid the gate open. On the other side stood Han Wei, a fellow outer disciple with a thin frame and restless eyes.
"You've been summoned to the Martial Hall," Han Wei said, his voice pitched low, as if wary of being overheard. "Elder Qin himself is there."
Lin Xuan's brow lifted slightly. Elder Qin rarely bothered with the outer disciples unless something significant was at hand. "Did they say why?"
Han Wei shook his head. "But… rumor has it there's going to be a selection. Inner sect needs fresh blood."
The words sent a faint current of excitement through Lin Xuan. The transition from outer to inner sect was a leap in status, resources, and opportunity. But such selections were brutal; competition was fierce, and failure could set one back years.
He gave Han Wei a brief nod. "I'll be there."
---
The Martial Hall loomed ahead, an imposing structure of dark wood and jade tiles. By the time Lin Xuan arrived, dozens of outer disciples were already assembled on the stone square outside, murmuring in hushed voices. Some carried weapons strapped to their backs, others bore calloused fists and confident stances that marked them as long-time practitioners.
Elder Qin stood at the center, his long robes swaying in the mountain breeze. His sharp gaze swept over the crowd, silencing their whispers.
"You have all been called here because the sect requires strength," Elder Qin began, his voice deep and carrying effortlessly. "In five days' time, the sect will open the Azure Spirit Grounds for trials. The top five among you will earn entry into the inner sect. The rest… will continue as you are."
A ripple of anticipation swept through the crowd. The Azure Spirit Grounds were notorious among outer disciples — both for the treasures they concealed and the dangers they held.
Elder Qin continued, "Prepare yourselves well. The Azure Spirit Grounds will not show mercy. Neither will your fellow disciples."
With that, he turned sharply and left, leaving only the echo of his footsteps and the weight of his words behind.
---
The crowd dispersed in restless knots. Lin Xuan found himself walking alongside Su Mei, a young woman known for her precise swordsmanship. She glanced at him sidelong. "You're aiming for the top five, aren't you?"
Lin Xuan didn't answer directly. "And you?"
She smiled faintly, her grip on her sword tightening. "I don't plan to waste the opportunity."
They walked in silence for a moment before she added, "The Azure Spirit Grounds… it's not just about strength. It tests your ability to adapt. Remember that."
Her words lingered in his mind long after they parted ways.
---
That night, Lin Xuan sat beneath the ancient pine in his courtyard, his mind turning over the possibilities. He had faced life-and-death situations before, but the sect's trials were different — structured, watched, and judged. There was no room for reckless gambles.
Drawing in a steady breath, he began cycling his cultivation technique. The familiar flow of energy rose in his meridians, the subtle hum filling his awareness. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the Void Spirit Bead resonated, and threads of an unfamiliar energy seeped into his circulation. It was colder than his own qi, sharper, but it didn't harm him. Instead, it refined his flow, smoothing out imperfections in ways his own technique never could.
His eyes snapped open.
"…So, you've been hiding this all along."
For a fleeting moment, he considered pushing further, to see just how much the bead could do. But he held back. Power gained too quickly could just as easily be lost — or come with costs he wasn't ready to pay.
---
The next few days were a blur of preparation. Lin Xuan sparred with Han Wei in the mornings, trained his movement techniques on the steep hillside paths in the afternoons, and meditated under the pine at night. His body adapted to the increasing strain, his control over his qi tightening with each cycle.
Whispers spread among the outer sect — of rivalries rekindled, of grudges ready to be settled in the Azure Spirit Grounds. He learned that Zhao Feng, a senior outer disciple with a reputation for ruthlessness, would be participating. The man's last opponent in a sparring match had left with shattered ribs.
Lin Xuan knew he couldn't afford a direct confrontation — not yet. But if fate arranged it so, he would not back down.
---
The night before the trial, the sect grounds fell unnaturally quiet. Even the usual sounds of late-night training were absent, replaced by an air of taut anticipation. Lin Xuan stood alone in his courtyard, gazing up at the pale moon.
In the stillness, the Void Spirit Bead pulsed once more. This time, an image flickered in his mind — a hazy vision of mist-shrouded peaks and a crystalline lake, its surface glowing faintly. It was gone in a heartbeat, leaving only a faint sense of direction, as though urging him toward something.
His lips curved in the faintest of smiles. "Very well. We'll see what awaits."