The road back to Heavenly Dragon Sect felt longer than the path north. Snow still clung to his boots, his breath still rasped faintly in his chest, but Li Wei's stride never faltered. Each mile marked distance from the defile and the charred corpses he had left behind. Yet he carried no illusion that the slaver threat ended there. They were a web stretched wide, and he had only torn through a single strand.
By the time he glimpsed the mountain peaks crowned with cloud and the faint shimmer of the sect's protective array, his body was weary but steadier. He touched the vial pouch at his side—lighter by one—and exhaled. A small price to survive.
The Mission Hall was bustling when he arrived. Disciples clustered around the bronze plaques, jostling for missions that promised rich rewards. Stewards moved briskly along the counters, checking tokens and issuing scrolls. Li Wei stepped into the stream without hesitation.
At the counter, a steward took his jade token and slid it across the crystal plate. Numbers rippled into view.
"Mission: Northern Route investigation. Status: completed." Her voice was flat, professional. "Reward: five hundred contribution points."
The glow on his token flared, and the balance shifted.
4,550 → 5,050.
Not enough to settle his heart, but the threshold had been crossed. He could feel the weight of preparation within reach.
"There is more," Li Wei said quietly, drawing a sealed pouch from his sleeve. He placed it on the counter. "Evidence gathered at the site."
The steward blinked at him. She opened the pouch, then froze. The map marked with a valley, the foreign-stamped coins, the strip of merchant cloth—all lay in plain sight. Her eyes flicked to Li Wei, then back to the pouch. This was beyond her station.
"Wait here." Her voice carried tension now. She disappeared through a side door.
Minutes later, an older man in dark robes entered, his presence commanding silence. Elder Zhao's sharp eyes swept the hall before falling on Li Wei. The conversations of disciples faded into murmurs.
"You are Li Wei," Elder Zhao said. It was not a question. "The one climbing the Stele at unnatural speed."
Li Wei bowed. "This disciple greets Elder Zhao."
The elder gestured to the table, studying the pouch's contents with a frown deep enough to carve lines into his brow. He lingered longest on the map, fingers tracing the circle drawn around the northern valley.
"These were on the bodies of slavers?" Zhao asked.
"Yes," Li Wei replied. "The ambush was organized. They meant to take me alive. I destroyed their cell, but I doubt it was the only one."
A murmur swept through the hall at those words. Disciples whispered: Slavers? On Heavenly Dragon's borders? Some eyes flicked to Li Wei with open suspicion, others with awe. Elder Zhao ignored them. His gaze was flinty, his voice measured. "The sect does not turn a blind eye to such filth. But know this: our eyes must watch many fronts. The Grand Competition approaches. Resources flow toward cultivation, preparation, and the border disputes with rival sects. We will not march entire companies north for one disciple's discoveries."
Li Wei inclined his head, accepting the weight of those words. But he also noted the subtle thing Elder Zhao had not denied: the sect would act. Perhaps slowly, perhaps quietly, but the evidence was too clear to ignore.
"You did well to bring this back," Zhao continued. He gestured to the steward. "Issue him an additional three hundred contribution points for intelligence gathered."
The steward obeyed, inscribing the elder's order into the crystal plate. Li Wei's token glowed once more.
5,050 → 5,350.
At last, the threshold was not only met but surpassed. Enough to prepare fully for Foundation Establishment.
Elder Zhao's gaze lingered on him. "Your talent draws whispers, Li Wei. But remember—rising too fast draws envy as much as praise. See that you channel both into your cultivation, not your pride."
"Yes, Elder," Li Wei answered steadily.
Elder Zhao nodded once, then swept away, pouch and map in hand. The hall stirred back into motion, but not without glances cast his way. A pair of disciples exchanged mutters just loud enough to carry: "How does he keep climbing so fast?" "Some backing, there must be." Others stared with thinly veiled hostility. Han Lin, lingering by the mission boards, caught his eye and offered a brief nod of respect. It was a reminder—support and rivalry often walked hand in hand.
---
Later, outside beneath the eaves of the Mission Hall, Mei Yun found him. Her eyes searched his face, reading the fatigue he tried to hide.
"You're back." Her voice carried both relief and exasperation. "We heard rumors of slavers, but you…" She trailed off, noting the faint stiffness in his movements. "You fought them."
Li Wei nodded. "It wasn't Redclaw Hollow alone. They've rooted deeper. The sect knows now."
Mei Yun frowned. "And what of you?"
He touched the jade token at his waist. Its glow seemed heavier now, the numbers carved into his mind. "I have what I need. The next step is Foundation. If I can't break through, there is no point chasing shadows."
She hesitated, then said more softly, "The others from our batch talk about you often. Liang Fei scoffs, but even he watches. You're past where any of us can reach currently. Just… don't forget that we began together."
Li Wei's expression flickered, but only for a heartbeat. "I haven't forgotten. But my path is mine. If I stop, even for a step, it closes behind me."
She sighed, then gave a small smile. "Then climb it. Just make sure you live long enough for us to see it."
That night, Li Wei returned to his courtyard. The lanterns glowed faintly against the frost-laced walls, their light soft but steady. He sat cross-legged on the mat, the jade token before him. The tally of points reflected back like a promise.
5,350. Enough for the Foundation Pill, the healing medicines, the Spirit Convergence Chamber. Every piece in place.
Yet the weight of what lay ahead pressed against him. Failure at Foundation could cripple his meridians, perhaps forever. The medicine, the chamber—these were safeguards, but they were not certainty. He thought of his parents, of the vow he carried in silence, and of the enemies lurking in shadow. He could not afford failure.
His fingers brushed the token once, then withdrew. His eyes closed, breath falling into rhythm. Tomorrow, he would begin. The wall that divided outer disciple from inner awaited him. Beyond it, greater resources, greater dangers—and perhaps the strength to cut away the chains still clinging to the land outside the sect's walls.
For now, the night was still. His qi turned, slow and deliberate, sharpening the edge of the storm to come.