The sun had long passed its zenith when Li Tian finally came out of meditation. His body was light, and his spirit clearer than the mountain air. Each breath seemed to fit in harmony into the world around him.
He walked along the winding stone path that followed the eastern cliffs of the Azure Cloud Sect, hands clasped behind his back. The sway of bamboo and distant waterfalls blended into one calming melody.
He wasn't searching for anything in particular—just walking.
But as he descended, he felt a gentle tug in his chest, as if some unseen thread was pulling him softly towards somewhere.
The sensation wasn't strong, but it pulsed with the same cadence as his heartbeat.
"Strange… " he murmured. "Where have I felt this before?"
He followed the sensation step by step, letting intuition take over. The stone path swerved toward a less-used trail, one which spiraled down to the woods beneath the sect's central peak—a place few disciples visited.
The air grew thicker there, full of the scent of moss and wet earth. Sunbeams penetrated the canopy overhead, sending shafts of light onto motes of dust that lazily swirled in the air.
And Li Tian felt comfortable.
The further he entered, the stronger that faint resonance was. His Heavenly Qi circulated faster on its own, as if excited at something unseen.
At last, he arrived at a small clearing next to a dried stream. The ground was uneven, with rocks scattered everywhere, and the vague shape of an old bridge broken.
It all looked ordinary—neglected, even.
But when he knelt and placed a hand on the ground, his Qi shifted slightly.
Something beneath the ground responded.
The Heavenly Qi within his body began to ripple. The air around him stilled, and for an instant, even the forest held its breath.
Li Tian closed his eyes and allowed his Qi to flow outward gently, percolating into the ground like silk threads insinuating themselves through water.
There was a resonance, a low humming.
It was not violent. It was not loud. It was subtle—like the playing of a instrument from ancient times from deep below the ground.
Li Tian's eyes slowly opened.
There, beneath the roots of an old tree by the stream, soft echoes of silver light trembled, entombed beneath centuries of dirt and years.
He moved in closer, peaceful in his heart, his actions compelled more by instinct than greed.
The light responded to his presence, flaring faintly before falling into a soft, rhythmic pulse.
Kneeling again, he gently brushed the earth aside. Inch by inch, the object was revealed—a jade slip, weathered by the years, but intact to decay.
The markings on it shone faintly, like stars seen through veil.
As he wrapped his hand about it, the Heavenly Qi within him moved once more, tuning itself in perfect concord to the jade.
It was as if Heaven itself had whispered: "This was always meant for you."
Li Tian looked silently at the artifact, a soft sigh escaping his lips.
He hadn't sought treasure.
He had only listened.
And Heaven had answered.
He sat by the stream, turning the jade slip over in his hand, feeling the warmth pulse beneath its surface. There was no pride in his eyes—only gratitude and silent understanding.
He did not rush to examine it. Instead, he smiled faintly and said to the wind,
"Even Heaven has its time. Let us see what it wants to show me."
The wind murmured softly through the forest in reply, scattering his words like a promise.
The sun began to set, coloring the sky with red and gold.
And there, in Green Cloud Mountain's quiet forest, Li Tian sat alone, lit by the glow of the evening dusk — unaware that this harmless find would be the beginning of a journey even immortals had long forgotten.