Chapter 1 – A Quiet Union
Morning fog drifted through Cloud Veil Mountain, soft and cold as silk.
At the foothills, the outer settlement stirred awake—low-realm cultivators feeding spirit chickens, sharpening old blades, or boiling herb soup.
Life here was simple and harsh.
No one dreamed of glory; they only wished to survive another month.
Among them lived Long Tan, twenty-five years old, calm-eyed and quiet, a saber always at his side.
Most thought he was just another outer-mountain cultivator, but he came from another world.
---
The Boy from Another World
Fifteen years earlier, Long Tan had opened his eyes in this land of Qi and beasts.
He had been ten, a normal boy from a city of lights and machines.
There was no warning—only a blinding flash on a rainy street, then endless trees, strange skies, and a world ruled by cultivation.
In those early years he wandered hungry, watching people fly across the clouds, wielding power he couldn't imagine.
He swore he would reach that height too.
Luck—or fate—brought him a tattered cultivation scroll in a ruined valley.
It taught the Nine-Stage Qi Breathing Art, a basic method that could reach only the ninth level of Qi Condensation.
For a starving child, that was treasure.
He practiced day and night, sitting in rivers, breathing mist, swallowing bitter herbs.
But fifteen years passed, and his cultivation stopped at the third level of Qi Condensation.
No matter how long he meditated, his Qi refused to rise.
Low talent.
That was the truth the heavens had given him.
He learned to live with it.
If he couldn't climb high, he would stand firm on the ground.
---
A Death and a Beginning
Across the road lived Su Lan, a gentle-voiced farmer girl of twenty.
She had awakened her Qi only a year ago and stood at Qi Condensation – first level.
Her talent was poorer than his, but her heart was steady.
Most of her spirit stones and herbs had been spent caring for her sick mortal father.
When the old man's cough worsened, Long Tan often came to help—carrying water, chopping firewood, and bringing jars of low-grade healing wine.
But mortal bodies couldn't hold Qi for long.
On a gray morning the man finally stopped breathing.
Su Lan wept quietly as incense burned out.
Long Tan helped dig the grave under a pear tree, saying nothing.
Some pain had no words.
That night she sat outside her door, eyes hollow.
> "There's no one left for me now," she whispered.
Long Tan stood beside her, looking at the fading stars.
> "Then let's not walk alone," he said.
There was no ceremony, no red cloth—just two lonely hearts deciding to share the same roof.
A week later they were married.
---
Life under Cloud Veil
Their home was small but warm.
Su Lan planted herbs—Silver Leaf, Blue Stem, Spirit Moss—behind the hut.
Long Tan brewed healing wine from fruit, spring water, and spirit grass.
He wasn't an alchemist, only a low-grade wine master, yet his wine closed small wounds and restored Qi for outer-mountain hunters.
Together they earned enough to pay the monthly tax of three spirit stones.
At night they shared a single lamp.
Sometimes Su Lan would rest against his shoulder while he cleaned his saber.
Sometimes they just listened to the rain.
For two people who had lost everything, peace was enough.
But peace on Cloud Veil never lasted.
---
The New Tax
One afternoon a Cloud Veil Faction messenger rode into the square, robes fluttering, jade slip glowing in his hand.
Everyone gathered—hunters, farmers, minor cultivators.
He read in a loud, cold voice:
> "By order of the elders of Cloud Veil Faction, protection fees for the outer mountain shall increase.
Previous fee: three spirit stones per household per month.
New fee: ten spirit stones."
The crowd fell silent, then erupted.
"Ten stones? We'll starve!"
"They're squeezing us dry!"
The messenger ignored them and left.
No one dared to resist.
That night, Su Lan sat by the oil lamp, her brow tight.
> "Ten stones each month… we can't earn that much."
Long Tan kept polishing his saber.
The blade caught the firelight, gleaming faintly.
> "I'll hunt again. The beasts still have cores to sell."
> "It's dangerous now," she said softly. "There are thieves even among cultivators."
> "Then I'll go alone," he replied. "A man who fights alone can't be betrayed."
She looked down, fingers clutching her apron.
> "Come back early. Promise me."
He smiled faintly.
> "I will."
Outside, thunder rolled far away—deep, distant, like a growl waiting behind the clouds.
Before dawn, Long Tan tied his saber to his back, slung a gourd of wine at his waist, and stepped out the door.
Su Lan stood watching him, a single strand of hair caught by the wind.
He turned once, met her eyes, and nodded.
Then he walked into the forest.
The fog swallowed his figure, and the sound of his footsteps faded into the mountain.
Above, thunder murmured again—soft now, but growing.
Tomorrow, the storm would arrive.