Alex's days on Righteous Peak were a relentless grind of qi circulation, herb grinding, and puppet beatdowns.
Senior Sister Shui Bing never let him slack.
She was the youngest Valley Master of Flood Redemption Valley, a Nascent Soul cultivator with eyes as cold as frost on jade.
Her whip cracked harder than any elder's scolding.
But there was warmth too.
After each bruising session, she always tossed him a qi pill—never smiling, never soft in words, but the intent clear.
He wouldn't have lasted otherwise.
Under her watch, his Foundation Establishment Late Stage cultivation finally stabilized after the Dark Forest disaster.
His qi flowed steady. His dantian pulsed with the slow nourishment of the Red Umbra Flower bound to him by vow, sealed inside its pouch.
At only sixteen, Alex felt stronger than ever. His shoulders broadened, muscles toned from endless drills.
But boredom gnawed at him.
Each sunrise was the same: meditation until his meridians burned, sparring against iron puppets until his knuckles split, carrying spirit water jars up and down jade steps until his back screamed.
By the seventh day of the cycle, even a mountain of discipline couldn't keep him from sighing.
One morning in the stone pavilion, the peak's qi humming like a slow song in the air, Alex wiped sweat from his brow.
He turned to Shui Bing.
"Senior Sister," he said, his voice carrying that familiar mix of resignation and defiance, "I've stabilized my base. The flow feels steady now. Can I finally leave the valley? I've got this flower to raise and heavens to… well, deal with."
Shui Bing's silver robes caught the morning light like frost on jade.
She crossed her arms.
Her Nascent Soul aura brushed the air, a cool breeze that made the nearby herbs sway.
Her face was impassive.
But her eyes flickered—appraisal, calculation.
"Leave?" she asked.
Her tone was sharp enough to cut.
"You've barely touched the Dao of the Sword. Master at least two techniques first, or I'll have you scrubbing the pavilion floors with your qi."
She tossed a sword manual.
The parchment landed in his hands with a soft thud.
"Don't rush," she added, almost quiet. "The world outside won't wait, but neither will your foundations."
Alex caught the manual, flipping through its pages.
He knew better than to argue outright—her whip had a way of ending debates.
But his mind was already racing.
"Three techniques, then," he said, trying to sound confident. "I'll learn them so fast you'll wonder why you didn't teach me sooner."
The whip cracked beside him.
The pavilion's runes flickered.
But Shui Bing's lips quirked—just slightly.
"Cocky as always. Let's see if your disasters match your words."
The pavilion buzzed with disciples from other valleys—Thunder Salvation, Inferno Redemption, and Medicine Valley.
They had wandered over during breaks, drawn by the hum of qi and the chance to watch Alex's training sessions.
They lounged under a jade tree, sharing spirit fruits and chatter.
Mei, the scarred outer disciple, leaned against a pillar.
She peeled a spirit apple with her dagger.
"Disaster Boy Alex at it again?" she said. "Bet he'll turn these techniques into something explosive."
Liang, picking at a plum, nodded glumly.
"Last time he tried a palm strike, he blew up the herb rack. I had to replant everything."
Fang, still damp from water drills, chuckled softly.
He splashed qi water into a puddle, making it reflect the light.
"He's got a knack for it though. Remember when he flooded the lower paths? Found that old qi gem in the mud."
Alex, overhearing, rolled his eyes.
But a grin tugged at his lips.
The disciples' talk was constant background hum—part teasing, part admiration.
It made the long hours feel less isolating.
The pavilion was no longer just a place of drills. It had become a gathering spot, where gossip flowed as easily as qi.
The first technique was Exploding Palm.
A mid-level art.
Qi condensed into a palm strike, releasing explosive force on impact.
Shui Bing demonstrated with calm precision.
Her hand glowed with azure qi.
She slapped a training rock.
Crack.
The rock crumbled to dust. Not a speck out of place.
"Focus qi in your palm," she said evenly. "Release on contact. Too much, and it backfires. Too little, and it's useless."
She stepped back, arms crossed.
"Try."
Alex circulated his qi.
It flowed like a steady river through his meridians.
His palm glowed faintly.
Hours passed.
The disciples muttered, sharing fruit, passing commentary.
"He's picking it up quick," Mei noted, tossing him a piece of apple.
Alex caught it without looking.
"For once, no disaster?" she teased.
Alex felt a surge of confidence.
He slammed his palm into the rock.
BOOM.
The rock shattered.
Shards flew everywhere.
Alex flew too—backward, crashing through a pavilion wall.
Thud.
Dust billowed.
The disciples coughed.
Then gasped.
Behind the broken wall was a hidden cache.
Dozens of spirit wine bottles, glowing with aged qi, perfectly intact.
Mei doubled over laughing. Her dagger clattered to the floor.
"He broke a wall and found wine? That's Disaster Boy Alex for you!"
Liang wiped plum juice from his chin.
"Those bottles are worth more than my year's allowance."
Fang splashed water to clear the dust.
"Bet Sect Master hid them for a reason. Didn't want us finding his stash."
Shui Bing stepped through the debris.
Her cold eyes widened—for a rare moment.
"You learned it too fast… and turned it into a catastrophe."
Her whip coiled at her side.
She inspected the wine.
"Duan Renyi's private reserve. He'll notice."
Alex rubbed his head, grinning despite the ache.
"Disaster Palm? Nah. Let's call it Exploding Chaos Palm. See, it's useful."
Shui Bing sighed.
She tossed him a healing pill.
"Rename it Disaster Fist if it suits you. But control the blast radius, or you'll destroy the peak."
The disciples cheered.
They passed qi tea, buzzing with gossip.
"He's gonna blow up the sect one day," Fang said.
"And find treasure in the ruins," Mei added, still laughing.
During a break, Alex sat with Mei and Fang under the jade tree.
They munched spirit plums, swapping valley stories.
"Thunder Salvation's drills are killer," Mei said. "Lei Zheng had us dodging lightning yesterday. I got singed."
"Flood Redemption's the same," Fang nodded. "Shui Bing made us swim rapids blindfolded."
Alex flexed his palm, still tingling.
"At least you don't blow up your own hand."
The qi hummed softly around them.
Snacks, laughter, training—discipline didn't feel so heavy anymore.
The second technique was Lightning Rage.
Heavenly lightning summoned through qi circulation.
Fury from the sky, controlled by will.
Shui Bing demonstrated.
Her hand crackled.
A bolt fell on a dummy.
Ash. Clean, precise, terrifying.
"Channel qi to call the heavens' wrath," she said. "Direct it, or it turns on you."
Alex took a deep breath.
He circulated qi.
The air tingled.
Crackling energy danced around his arm.
Then—
BOOM.
The lightning struck.
On him.
Arcs spread wildly, blackening nearby rocks.
Disciples screamed, scattering behind pillars.
Alex staggered, smoking.
"It… hit me!" he coughed.
The disciples peeked from cover.
Mei tossed a lotus.
"You rage the heavens at yourself! That's new!"
Liang choked on his tea.
"He's fried!"
Shui Bing tossed him a qi pill.
Her expression unreadable.
"Your chaos twists it. Control the direction, or it'll fry you first."
Alex's hair stood on end.
He grinned shamelessly.
"My special version—Lightning Self-Roast! Great for cooking turnips."
The pavilion roared with laughter.
"Turnip lightning!" Fang yelled. "Try it on my lunch!"
The third technique was Wind Slashing Sword.
His first sword art.
Wind qi channeled into sharp blades of air.
Shui Bing moved like flowing silk.
Her sword whistled.
Wind blades shredded a dummy with elegant force.
"Flow with the wind," she said. "Let it guide your blade."
Alex gripped his wooden sword.
He tried.
Qi surged.
He slammed the blade into the ground.
RUMBLE.
The backlash knocked him off his feet.
The earth split.
Craters swallowed the training dummies whole.
Dust and rock tumbled.
Alex crawled out, coughing blood.
The disciples gaped.
Then laughed.
"He turned it into Dao of Collapsing Heavens!" Mei shouted. She tossed a dumpling at his head.
"The ground ate everything!"
Shui Bing tossed him another pill.
"Your chaos… it's unique. But master it, or you'll bury yourself alive."
Alex wiped blood from his lip.
He grinned through the pain.
"Collapsing Heavens Sword! Perfect for traps."
The disciples cheered.
Liang muttered, "I'd have been swallowed whole."
By the end of the month, Alex had forced the three techniques into submission.
Bruised, battered, but stable.
The disciples held a "Disaster Technique Night."
They mimicked his mishaps.
Mei overcharged a palm strike and blew up a dummy.
Fang summoned a tiny lightning bolt that zapped her own foot.
Alex tripped during a slash and revealed yet another hidden qi gem.
The pavilion erupted with cheers.
Snacks, tea, laughter.
"Disaster Boy's a walking legend," Fang declared.
Shui Bing stood in the shadows, whip coiled at her side.
Her cold eyes softened.
"You've earned a break," she said. "But train more."
Alex, munching a roasted yam, looked around at the lively peak.
He Felt Warmth Which He never Had before.