The sound of a bronze bell echoed through the valleys, slow and heavy. Each toll echoed across the terraced fields, bouncing off the ridges until the whole valley was filled with the sound. Down below thousands of spirit beasts had began to exit from their dens, most were cattle mooing, others roaring faintly, their sounds waking the disciples.
On the slopes of the Golden Ox Sect, morning had begun.
The sect was a strange kind of paradise, half ranch and half fortress, rolling meadows sprawled between valleys, filled with fenced ranches and golden pavilions that gleamed under the dim, subterranean light. For this was the Underground Continent a world beneath the surface where the sky was made of stone and glowing fungi replaced the stars. Gold light had flowed between some crevices high above, casting a soft illumination on some of the land.
Disciples in brown and gold robes hurried between stables and training fields, their chatter filling the air.
"Don't forget to polish your beast token as well as wash your robes before the Elder's inspection!" A formation class disciple yelled.
Laughter rippled through the courtyards as well as steam rising from hot springs where spirit oxen soaked their hides with there masters, their horns glinting with faint golden light.
Lin Mo stood at the edge of the lower pastures, pitchfork in hand, watching a herd of two-horned ironback oxen push against the fences. He had been assigned to outer disciple duty again, feeding, cleaning and occasionally getting headbutted by an ox or two looking too play. His brown robe was patched and sweat-stained, he wore it like someone who'd accepted a life of quiet mediocrity.
Next to him waddled a round looking ox that barely came up to his waist, its face was smooth and soft, with two black dots for eyes and a small mouth that constantly chewed spirit grass, because of that everyone had called it Dumpling.
"You're feeding them too much" Lin Mo said, squinting at the bucket of grain Dumpling had just dumped out."No such thing as too much," the little thing replied in a muffled, cheerful tone. "Fat ox, happy ox. Happy ox, no stampede and no headbutts."
Lin Mo sighed. "You said that yesterday and they did stampede, I'm pretty sure you led the charge."
"Minor setback" Dumpling said solemnly, then coughed out a blade of grass. "You can't build a sect on an empty stomach."
Lin Mo chuckled despite himself, Dumpling had been the only ox that listened and had been able to talk to him ince he'd joined the sect two years ago. The creature was technically a low-rank beast, it had barely been considered as one, but through some strange quirk of fate, it had been spirit beast status after saving a drunken Elder from drowning in a manure pit, after it got fed lots of pills. Nobody quite understood how that worked, and most people didn't ask.
The sunstone lamps brightened as the morning deepened and Lin Mo's gaze drifted toward the distant upper terraces. There golden roofed building with golden halls glittered faintly. The Inner Sect where the real cultivation happened. He could faintly make out silhouettes of inner disciples practicing formation arts, their golden Qi forming horns to stab with.
One of them, a slim figure in pale robes, stood apart, hands clasped behind her back. Even from this distance, her movements were measured, graceful, deliberate. Sun Cui the pride of the sect's younger generation. She was rumored to have reached Strengthening Stage before turning twenty, and to possess a physique aligned with the Metal Dao, rare and powerful.
Lin Mo's eyes lingered on her for a moment then turned back to the ox pen. His own cultivation was nonexistent, Formation Realm remained a distant dream. Most outer disciples spent years, sometimes decades, just gathering the faintest sense of Qi to begin on there journey. He wasn't talentless, but somehow every meditation session ended the same way, wandering thoughts, restless body and an empty dantian.
A group of other outer disciples passed nearby, laughing. One of them, a broad-shouldered youth with a gold-toothed grin, waved his bucket at Lin Mo.
"Hey, Ox-Fodder Lin still dreaming of touching Qi?"
Lin Mo raised a hand in lazy acknowledgment, not rising to the bait, they laughed and moved on slapping each other's backs. Dumpling puffed up indignantly beside him.
"They mock you now, Brother Lin, but one day when we get stronger we'll ride into there ro –"
Lin Mo cut the ox off. "Into their rooms, what would I even do, stomp on their blankets?"
"Symbolic vengeance" Dumpling said proudly.
The morning continued quietly, disciples herded beasts to the water pits. The air filled with the mingled smell of hay, wet earth, and faint metallic Qi. Above them the underground "sky" pulsed faintly with golden light from the crevices.
Occasionally, the ground trembled, far to the east a massive ox bell tower chimed again, the signal for the Morning Mantra Recitation, a daily ritual that kept the sect's Qi formation stable.
The disciples all turned toward the mountain and pressed their palms together. Lin Mo did the same, his breath steady, his voice joining the chant:
"The Ox treads the world; its patience is strength. The Ox bears the heavens; its silence is might."
As they chanted the golden Qi became visible to the naked lines of light flowing towards the mountain with the bell. For a brief moment Lin Mo could sense it, the rhythm of energy flowing between heaven, earth, and beast, the heartbeat of the world itself.
Then the feeling slipped away, replaced by the dull ache of ordinary lungs and sweat.
By afternoon, the golden haze deepened .Outer disciples ate together in long wooden halls, the smell of roasted meat and hot soup filling the air. Dumpling was eating the straw under the table.
"You ever think we'll get promoted?" he asked between bites."To inner disciples?" Lin Mo asked."No," Dumpling said seriously. "To kitchen duty, that's where the real power is."
The table laughed, even Lin Mo smiled, though quietly.
At another table, some senior outer disciples discussed sect politics. Apparently, Elder Mu — one of the sect's immortals, had been missing for a month, and the Golden Butcher, the sect Immortal herself, had sent scouts into the Forbidden Valleys. The older disciples whispered about beast migrations, strange auras and flickering lights deep in the tunnels beyond the ranchlands.
Lin Mo half listened, half-dreamed. He'd always wondered what lay beyond those tunnels, the maps said they were just empty caverns full of dangerous beasts, but sometimes, when he did late night duty, he swore he saw a dim golden glow beyond the fences.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully beast tending, Qi lectures and endless chores. By evening, the valley grew dim, disciples gathered at the lakeside to wash off dust and dirt with there cattle and gossip before curfew.
Sun Cui passed by on the stone path, accompanied by two junior sisters. Lin Mo looked up briefly, she didn't seem to notice him or she didn't care. Her steps were light but firm, her robe embroidered with subtle golden ox patterns. Her expression was calm, distant, the kind of serenity born of talent and discipline.
Dumpling nudged Lin Mo's leg.
"You stare too long, the cattle will think you've gone soft."Lin Mo snorted. "You're an ox.""Exactly. That's why I know what I'm talking about."
That night, the sect settled into quiet. From his small wooden dorm, Lin Mo could hear faint moos from distant pens and the occasional snore from Dumpling, who slept curled on the floor like a round pillow.
-
Lin Mo lay on his narrow bedding eyes fixed on the ceiling. The bronze bell mantra still echoed somewhere in his chest, a phantom rhythm that had almost become real that morning. For an instant he thought he had finally grasped the meaning, then it slipped from him like water between fingers.
Now his chest only felt hollow.
A distant bellow rolled through the valley, it wasn't the ordinary complaint of a beast disturbed in its sleep, it carried a warped tremor, half-pain, half-fear.
Dumpling snorted from the floor, voice thick with drowsiness."Probably the night herders again, always stepping on someones tail."
Lin Mo kept listening, another roar, closer this time and in the far distance a glimmer flared against a valleys wall, faint and gold. He'd seen it before, once or twice, when he had to clean up the manure late at night, a light that pulsed where no lampstone should be.
He sat up.
"Brother Lin, don't" Dumpling mumbled, already sensing his intent, but his curiosity got the better of him, he rose, tied his robe, and reached for a small lampstone from the shelf.
A single rule hung in the mind of every outer disciple: Do not cross the final fence after dark,even some of the beasts obeyed it.
Yet the glow drew him like a moth to a flame, he slipped from the dorm, feet silent on the packed clay path. Dew clung to the air the smell of hay, rows of oxen lifted their heads as he passed, eyes glimmering faint gold in the half-light, none made a sound.
Dumpling waddled after him, grumbling, "If you die, I'm eating all the reserve hay and food."
The golden mist grew thicker the farther they went, pooling near the ground the warmth of the ranchlands was gone, replaced by a cool, damp stillness that made the hairs on Lin Mo's arms rise.
They reached the farthest fence, beyong the land dipped into a gorge where the light still flickered.
Lin Mo hesitated only a for moment before climbing over.
Beasts moved among the shadows, long-horned shapes, scaled tails, glints of gold in their eyes. They were restless, pacing, snorting, stamping.
"The ground smells wrong," Dumpling whispered. "Sweet… and sour."
They passed claw marks carved deep into stone, they were drawing nearer to the light it was somewhere ahead.
Then Lin mo's heartbeat quickened.
A roar shattered the silence.
From the mist burst a three-horned ironback, hide laced with cracks of glowing red. Spittle flew from its mouth as it charged, eyes wild, lin Mo froze for half a heartbeat, then realised what happened, then bolted downslope
"Run, you fool!" Dumpling squealed, bouncing like a sack beside him.
More shapes thundered from the fog—dozens, hundreds, the ground trembling beneath the weight. They weren't chasing him so much as fleeing something else, their fear radiating in there eyes
The path split, Lin Mo and Dumpling dove toward a side tunnel, breath ragged, heart pounding so loud it drowned the stampede. He stumbled over loose stone, barely keeping upright as Dumpling's hooves clattered behind.
The tunnel opened into a hollow chamber.
Golden mist pooled thick as honey, clinging to his skin. The walls shimmered faintly, etched with lotus-like patterns
And everywhere around them, beasts, dozens of species tangled together, snorting, panting, they were mating in a frenzy that bordered on madness. The air was alive with heat and musk, a raw current that seemed to press directly against his heart.
Lin Mo staggered back, dizzy. The Qi here was visible threads of molten gold spiraling upward, twisting together like smoke. His veins throbbed, beneath his ribs something hot coiled, rising until his vision blurred.
"Brother Lin… the air, too thick…" Dumpling wheezed, collapsing onto the glowing moss.
The chamber brightened as if in answer, light pouring from the lotus markings. A pulse rolled through the cavern deep, slow and intimate, as though the world itself drew a breath.
He tried to turn away, but the heat inside him spiked. His thoughts tangled, fear, shame, desire—until they blurred into a single searing ache.
The golden glow swelled, washing everything white.