The jade slip, though possibly a fake, had become Li Wei's talisman, a tangible link to the immortal path he was forging. Each night in his Mount Tai clearing, he meditated with it pressed to his forehead, chasing the fleeting visions of sword forms and whispered wisdom that seemed to emanate from its carvings. The warmth in his dantian grew steadier, a pulsing beacon that reassured him he was progressing toward Foundation Establishment. The Order of the Jade Dawn, his virtual sect, celebrated his acquisition of the slip during their weekly video calls, their faces glowing with shared excitement on his cracked phone screen. Zhang Wei, Liu Mei, and even the skeptical Wang Hao saw it as a sign that their collective pursuit of cultivation was bearing fruit. For Li Wei, the sect was more than allies—they were his family, bound by a dream of transcending the mortal world.
But the harmony of the Order was fragile, strained by distance and differing visions. Zhang Wei, the alchemy enthusiast, was obsessed with brewing potions, often pushing dangerous recipes that worried Liu Mei. Liu Mei, ever serene, focused on meditative purity, sometimes dismissing Wang Hao's physical training as "crude." Wang Hao, in turn, scoffed at their "mystic nonsense," insisting on measurable results. Li Wei, as the unofficial leader, tried to mediate, sharing the scroll's teachings to unify them. Yet, cracks were forming, and they surfaced in a way Li Wei never expected.
It began with a post in the "True Path Seekers" forum, the same online space where Li Wei had found his sect mates. A user named "DawnBreaker" shared a scathing thread titled "The Jade Dawn Delusion: A Cult of Wannabe Immortals." The post detailed the Order's practices—Li Wei's scroll, his boar encounter, the jade slip, even his meridian-opening ritual—mocking them as "fantasies of a delusional hermit." Screenshots of their private chat, including Li Wei's fervent descriptions of qi sensations and Zhang Wei's alchemical experiments, were leaked for all to see. The forum erupted with ridicule, users calling the Order a "cosplay club" and worse. Li Wei's heart sank as he read the thread in the village teahouse, using Old Chen's spotty Wi-Fi. The betrayal cut deeper than the hiker's laughter or the pain of his needles.
The traitor was obvious: Wang Hao, the gruff martial artist, had grown increasingly vocal about his doubts during their calls. He'd argued that Li Wei's "qi" was just adrenaline, that the scroll was a scam, and that their efforts lacked discipline. Li Wei had brushed it off, believing Wang Hao's skepticism would soften with time. But the leaked messages bore his blunt tone, his username barely disguised as "DawnBreaker." The others in the Order were furious. Zhang Wei raged in the group chat, calling Wang Hao a "mortal coward." Liu Mei, usually calm, sent a private message to Li Wei: "He's broken our trust. We must protect the sect."
Li Wei felt a mix of anger and heartbreak. Wang Hao had been a brother-in-arms, his physicality a counterpoint to Li Wei's spiritual focus. But betrayal was a wound the scroll had warned of: "Allies may falter, their hearts swayed by doubt. The cultivator must remain steadfast." That night, in his clearing, Li Wei called an emergency video meeting. The air was tense, the campfire's glow casting shadows across his face as he addressed the group. "Wang Hao has betrayed us," he said, his voice heavy. "He's exposed our path to mockery. The scroll speaks of severing ties with those who hinder the Dao. I propose we exile him from the Order."
Zhang Wei nodded vigorously, his dorm room cluttered with vials in the background. "He's a skeptic who never believed. Let him go." Liu Mei, her face lit by moonlight, hesitated but agreed. "His energy disrupts our harmony. We must cleanse the sect." Wang Hao, logged in from his gym, didn't deny the accusation. "You're all chasing fairy tales," he said, his voice gruff but tinged with regret. "I shared the truth to wake you up. This isn't cultivation—it's madness." Li Wei, his heart hardening, ended the call with a single command: "You're out."
The exile left a void. Li Wei sat by his altar, the jade slip in his hands, its faint warmth a small comfort. The scroll's words echoed: "The path is solitary, yet allies strengthen it. Choose wisely." Had he chosen poorly? He scribbled in his notebook: "Wang Hao banished. Sect purified, but trust shaken. Path continues." The next day, he doubled his meditation, chanting louder to drown out the sting of betrayal. He shared the scroll's next passage with Zhang Wei and Liu Mei, focusing on "unifying the spirit" to rebuild their bond. They vowed to keep their chats encrypted, their secrets guarded.
As the moon rose over Mount Tai, Li Wei felt the weight of leadership. The Order was smaller now, but purer, he told himself. The betrayal was another tribulation, a test of his resolve. The scroll had guided him through storms and demons; it would guide him through this. With Zhang Wei's alchemy and Liu Mei's serenity, the Order of the Jade Dawn would rise stronger. Li Wei closed his eyes, the jade slip pressed to his forehead, and visualized his qi burning away doubt. The path to immortality was his alone to walk, but he would carry his sect with him, betrayal or not.