The seventh day in the Spirit Convergence Chamber came to its quiet end. Li Wei sat in silence, cross-legged on the meditation mat, his breathing steady. The storm of his breakthrough had passed; what remained was clarity. The once-diffuse mist of his qi now flowed like liquid through his meridians, dense and smooth, carrying a weight and richness he had never known before.
He guided it slowly, weaving cycles through his body. Each turn pressed deeper, leaving faint ripples across his dantian's pool. Where before his qi had been a tide ready to surge outward, now it was a reservoir, compressed and waiting to be released. He felt stronger, yes—but also sharper.
And beyond that strength, another sense lingered. Divine sense—still faint, like the first glimmer of dawn, but there. When he reached outward with it, the chamber answered. He could feel the grooves of the carved walls, the steady hum of the suppressive array, even the faint disturbance of dust shifting in the corners. It was not sight, nor sound, nor touch—it was simply knowing.
Li Wei opened his eyes. They were clearer than before.
So this is Foundation Establishment, he thought. A single step—but the difference is like earth and sky.
The stone door slid open with a grinding murmur. Light from the corridor spilled in, and with it came the muffled sounds of outer sect disciples training in the nearby yards. A few looked up as he emerged. Their eyes widened, some whispering behind sleeves.
The chamber suppressed fluctuations, but not completely. The faint pressure of Foundation Establishment clung to him, subtle yet unmistakable.
"That's Li Wei, isn't it?" someone whispered.
"He broke through already? Just months after entry?"
A ripple of murmurs passed through the crowd. Some voices carried envy, others respect. Li Wei ignored them. Their words were nothing compared to the storm inside his chest.
He walked steadily back toward his abode.
The courtyard of his quarters was quiet, the red leaves of autumn drifting down onto the stone tiles. As he slid the gate open, two figures stood waiting: Mei Yun and Liang Fei.
Mei Yun's eyes lit with relief the moment she saw him. "You did it," she said simply, the sincerity in her tone unguarded.
Liang Fei folded his arms, his expression unreadable for a moment before a wry smile tugged at his mouth. "Hmph. So it's true. Foundation Establishment in months. You really won't let the rest of us breathe, will you?"
Li Wei inclined his head. "It was time."
"Time?" Liang Fei snorted. "For the rest of us, it's blood and years. For you, it's time." But though his words were edged, his eyes betrayed something else—pride, perhaps, or anticipation.
Mei Yun stepped closer. "The Tournament is only three weeks away. With Foundation… you're already far beyond most of the outer sect. Even Rank 100 won't hold you back now."
Li Wei's gaze sharpened. "Three weeks," he echoed. The words settled heavy in his chest. Three weeks until the stage where paths would diverge. Three weeks until he tested himself against every contender for the inner sect.
He turned his hand, jade token glinting faintly in the lantern light. "Before then, I need to know the weight of this new strength."
Liang Fei raised an eyebrow. "The Stele?"
Li Wei nodded. "The Stele. My techniques, my qi—everything changes at Foundation. If I enter the Tournament without understanding it fully, I've already lost."
A brief silence followed. Then Liang Fei chuckled. "Good. I'd rather watch you climb higher than hear whispers about how you stagnated. At least if you fall, it'll be from so high the noise will be worth it."
Mei Yun shot him a glare, but Li Wei only tightened his grip on the token. His path was not measured by noise. It was measured by steps taken, by chains broken, by the vow burning in his chest.
---
The next morning, the Stele of Names loomed once more before him. Its monumental slab glowed in the sunlight, thousands of etched names burning faintly with rank. Disciples milled around the base, sparring, meditating, or simply watching.
When Li Wei approached, the crowd stirred. Whispers spread quickly.
"He's back already."
"After a breakthrough."
"Foundation Establishment—he'll crush through the ranks."
Li Wei ignored them, stepping onto the challenge platform beneath the Stele. His voice carried steady and clear.
"Li Wei petitions the Stele for a challenge above Rank 162."
The ancient stone pulsed, runes rippling across its face. A name glowed brighter—Rank 148. The next available opponent.
A stir ran through the onlookers. Rank 148 was no small feat.
From among the crowd, a tall youth stepped forward, clad in dark gray robes, his qi aura sharp and crackling. A longsword rested in his hand, faint arcs of lightning dancing along its edge. He ascended the platform with calm steps, meeting Li Wei's gaze without hesitation.
The Stele had chosen.
Li Wei's hand closed on his own blade. As he guided his qi forward, the difference was immediate. His sword thrummed with resonance, not with the thin whisper of refined qi, but the dense pressure of liquid essence. The Azure Wind Scripture, earth-rank and demanding, bloomed through him in ways it never had before. His steps were lighter, his breath deeper. His every movement carried weight.
The youth across from him raised his sword, lightning crackling louder. "I've heard of you. Let's see if Foundation makes you untouchable."
The duel began.
The youth moved first, his sword cleaving arcs of lightning through the air. Qi surged outward, crackling in jagged lines, the platform flashing white-blue. Li Wei stepped forward with Flowing Cloud Steps, his body blurring as his new qi carried him faster, smoother than before. He slipped past the arcs, each motion sharp, deliberate.
His blade rose, and Tempest Fang Slash answered. Where once it was a howl of wind, now it was a storm. Liquid qi poured through the strike, the crescent of force tearing through the air with weight that shook the platform. The youth's lightning was scattered, broken into sparks that fizzled out in the gale.
Gasps echoed from the crowd. "The strength..."
The youth gritted his teeth, pressing in. His blade thrust with precision, arcs of lightning trying to cage Li Wei in. But Li Wei's divine sense stretched outward, faint but sharp. He felt the strikes before they landed, sensed the rhythm of his opponent's movement. His own blade moved with ruthless efficiency, parrying one, slipping past another, then striking with surgical precision.
Whirlwind Slash cut upward, scattering lightning. Flowing Cloud Steps carried him inside the boy's guard. His sword flashed once, leaving a shallow line across the youth's sleeve. A warning. Li Wei did not need more to understand his new power. His techniques no longer strained against the limits of Qi Refinement. They bloomed freely now, liquid qi surging behind them, resonant and heavy.
He exhaled slowly. Enough testing.
With a single motion, he unleashed another Tempest Fang Slash. This time, he did not hold back. The storm of wind roared, crashing into the youth's defenses and shattering them. His opponent staggered, his sword torn from his grasp, body thrown to the edge of the platform.
The Stele flared. "Winner: Li Wei. New Rank: 148."
The crowd erupted—cheers, whispers, disbelief. Foundation Establishment was a wall most disciples dreamed of breaching. To see one of their peers reach it and then tear through a ranked opponent with such dominance—it was a shock.
Li Wei stood steady, his blade lowering. His chest rose and fell, calm. The duel had tested enough. His strength was real. His path was steady.
He sheathed his sword. The whispers around him meant nothing. Only the Stele, the Tournament, and the enemies beyond the sect mattered.