The mountain path stretched upward into the mist.
Stone steps climbed along the cliffside, uneven and worn, as if they had been carved by time rather than by human hands. Cold wind swept through the valley now and then, brushing past sleeves and hair, carrying the faint smell of pine and damp soil.
Li Chen walked steadily among the crowd.
Around him, youths of similar age struggled to keep pace. Some were already breathing hard, their faces flushed red. Others clenched their teeth and forced themselves onward, unwilling to fall behind at the very end.
This was the last stretch.
Above the clouds stood Qingyun Sect.
Li Chen had heard that name since he was young. In the villages at the foot of Qingyun Mountain, people spoke of it with a mix of reverence and distance. It was not the strongest sect in Tianyuan Jie, nor the most famous, but it had stood for generations.
For ordinary people, that was enough.
As long as one could enter Qingyun Sect, their life would no longer be limited to fields, floods, and failed harvests.
The mist thinned.
A tall stone archway appeared ahead, its surface weathered and cracked. Two large characters were carved into the rock, their strokes simple and restrained, carrying a quiet authority.
Qingyun Sect.
Beneath the arch stood two young cultivators in grey robes. Their expressions were calm, almost indifferent. A faint aura surrounded them, subtle but unmistakable.
They were Foundation Establishment realm cultivators.
Li Chen felt a slight pressure settle over his chest as he approached. It was not oppressive, but it made the gap between them painfully clear.
One of the cultivators glanced at the line.
"Tell your Names and Origin."
The voice was flat.
One by one everyone told their names and origin.
When it was Li Chen's turn, he clasped his hands lightly.
"Li Chen. From Shuanghe Village."
The cultivator checked a jade slip, then nodded.
"Outer disciple candidate. Go in."
No extra words.
Li Chen stepped past the archway.
The moment he crossed the threshold, he felt it.
The air changed.
Not sharply, not dramatically, but enough that his breathing unconsciously slowed. The chill faded, replaced by a faint warmth that brushed against his skin.
It was Spirit qi.
Thin and scattered, but real.
Li Chen did not stop walking. He simply remembered the feeling.
Beyond the arch lay a wide stone platform. Buildings clung to the mountainside ahead, connected by narrow paths and suspended bridges. Spirit fields spread across gentler slopes, their soil dark and neatly arranged. Far above, peaks pierced the clouds, their summits hidden from sight.
This was Qingyun Sect.
An elder in pale blue robes stood at the front of the platform. His hair was streaked with white, but his back was straight and his eyes were clear.
"From today onward," he said calmly, "you are outer disciples of Qingyun Sect."
His voice was not loud, yet it carried easily across the platform.
"Outer disciples cultivate, labor, and learn. Those with talent may advance. Those without will still have food and shelter."
He paused briefly.
"Qingyun Sect does not promise immortality. It offers opportunity."
With a wave of his sleeve, jade slips flew out, landing accurately in each disciple's hands.
"For now take Clear Heart Breathing Method. Robes will be distributed later. Your duties will be assigned before sunset."
He turned and left as if nothing more needed to be said.
The platform grew lively at once.
Whispers spread. Some youths stared at the jade slips in their hands as if afraid they might disappear. Others looked around eagerly, eyes shining as they took in their surroundings.
Li Chen lowered his gaze.
Clear Heart Breathing Method.
It was a basic cultivation technique which was stable but ordinary.
He did not feel disappointed.
If anything, he felt reassured.
Before sunset, the outer disciples were led down a winding path toward the lower slopes. A stern-looking cultivator assigned tasks one by one.
"Spirit field maintenance."
"Herb drying."
"Water transport."
When Li Chen's name was called, the cultivator glanced at him briefly.
"Lingxi Field. Western edge."
Li Chen accepted the wooden token and nodded.
The Lingxi Field lay far from the main buildings. The path narrowed as it descended, passing through wild grass and scattered stones. Compared to the inner areas, this place felt quiet, almost forgotten.
Rows of spirit crops covered the slope. Their leaves were green, but dull, lacking the vitality described in manuals.
Li Chen rolled up his sleeves and began working.
He moved steadily, loosening soil and clearing weeds. When his hands pressed into the earth, he paused.
The soil felt… different.
Not warm to the touch, but responsive, as if something faint stirred beneath the surface.
Li Chen frowned slightly and focused.
There it was again.
A thin, disordered current flowing through the soil.
Spirit qi.
Too weak to nourish cultivators properly, barely enough for crops.
No wonder this field was left to outer disciples.
He continued working, committing the sensation to memory.
By the time the sun dipped behind the mountain ridge, his clothes were damp with sweat. When the overseer called an end to the day, Li Chen returned to the outer disciple quarters.
The rooms were simple stone chambers, four people to a room.
After a plain meal, most of the youths collapsed onto their beds, exhaustion quickly overtaking excitement.
Li Chen sat cross-legged on his straw mat.
He took out the jade slip.
Clear Heart Breathing Method.
He pressed it lightly to his forehead.
Information flowed into his mind, not overwhelming, but precise. The technique emphasized calm breathing and steady circulation, avoiding forceful qi gathering in favor of gradual harmony.
Li Chen exhaled slowly.
He began.
Breath in, Breath out.
Qi stirred faintly within his dantian, responding to the rhythm. It was weak, barely perceptible, but it did not scatter.
Time passed quietly.
Outside, the night wind shifted.
Deep within the Lingxi Field, thin strands of spirit qi drifted through the soil, responding to a rhythm they barely remembered.
Li Chen opened his eyes.
He felt no excitement, no sudden joy.
Only a quiet sense of smoothness.
He lay down and closed his eyes.
Above Qingyun Sect, clouds drifted slowly across the moon.
No one noticed anything unusual.
Yet somewhere within Tianyuan Jie, something incomplete stirred for the briefest moment.
Then fell silent once more.