The three returned to Far Lantern Peak in mixed spirits. It wasn't until Liu Yuming returned to his dwellings that he reflected on the past week's experience.
If Liu Tianjue hadn't been there, it might have been fine, he thought, staring into the dark rafters. But still, we underestimated those loose demonic cultivators. Even though Yujin has a sensory technique, the woman was still able to sneak up on him…
Yuming decided that from then on, he would avoid confronting people without gathering intelligence on them whenever possible. Who knew what trump cards they might possess, or how desperate they might be.
Yuming tossed and turned before finally falling asleep. The next morning, he had his usual combat training with Instructor Qiao.
The training ground at Far Lantern Peak was a bare platform of stone, its surface full of scratches and lumps. The children, including Yuming, stood in lines with their fists raised. Instructor Qiao paced meekly before them, her hands tucked into her robes.
"Again," she called out.
The children stepped and struck in unison. Liu Yufeng's punches had started snapping like whips, turning a few heads. Liu Yiyi had quieter footwork, but it had an effortless control that no other student could match. The initial unblocking of meridians had an obvious effect. Some of the less talented children, stuck in Flesh Tempering, panted and struggled, unable to keep up with the pace of the lecture, their faces red with effort.
Yuming stayed near the edge of the group, moving cleanly, keenly observing everyone else.
Then, Instructor Qiao halted suddenly. The children all froze, expecting to be corrected. But Instructor Qiao wasn't looking at them. Her gaze had lifted beyond the training ground, beyond Far Lantern Peak towards the distant horizon where mountain peaks pierced the cloudline.
After a moment, everyone else felt something. The air had changed, gaining weight, and invisible pressure settling over everyone present. Liu Yujin, at the front, stumbled half a step. "Instructor Qiao," he blurted, "something is moving—moving up there."
The shadow hanging over the courtyard lifted, light swept in faint pulses. On nearby trees, the originally green leaves began to yellow and curl at the edges, some leaves then withered, before suddenly regaining their vitality and then some.
"Everyone, stay calm," Instructor Qiao said seriously. Nobody disobeyed.
Yuming tried to match Instructor Qiao's gaze, towards a distant mountain peak, but he couldn't see the source of the phenomenon.
A sound rolled faintly across Mount Zhenyuan, catching Yuming's ear. It was a hush, as if a field had been harvested or a granary settled.
Then, a moment of silence and stillness, before an elegant but authoritative voice resounded across the mountain, coming from the direction of Instructor Qiao's gaze.
"I, Liu Wanxiu, have condensed my true spirit, refined my Twin Qis, found direction through Suffering, and established the immortal foundation—"Harvest Vault Art!"
The children erupted. Chattering and speculating about this genius Liu Wanxiu who had achieved Foundation Establishment.
"Instructor Qiao, what was she like at Far Lantern Peak?"
Instructor Qiao looked helpless. "I don't know, she never came here."
….
Above the clouds, where lesser peaks bowed like subjects, Myriad Streams Peak rose singular. Its summit pierced the membrane of the sky, adorned with mist and waterfalls, flowing upwards before vanishing in haze. At its crown sat a palace of white jade and vermillion tile—the seat from which ten thousand streams of authority flowed downward.
In the palace, a proud looking man stood smiling at a graceful young woman in front of him. The woman's mouth was shut, not daring to speak first.
Appreciating her demeanor, the man's smile grew wider. He was the Foundation Establishment Late Stage cultivator Liu Zhenyi—the current head of the Liu Family.
"Wanxiu, you have done well," the man said with a smile.
"This humble one, Xiu'er, is of meager abilities. This accomplishment belongs to the family alone."
Liu Zhenyi chuckled. "You don't need to be so formal with your grandfather. Work hard so that I have one less thing to worry about when I go into seclusion to break through."
"This junior understands!"
"You cultivate 'Harvest Vault Art.' Naturally, you will need access to abundant quantities of Harvest Qi. Harvest Vault Art does not fall into the Ember Fire or Abyss Water lineages that our Liu Family cultivates, so it will take some time to gather the resources." Thinking about this, Zhenyi sighed and rubbed his temple. "Have you researched the acquisition of Harvest Qi?"
Liu Wanxiu bowed, "This Junior has. There are two main local producers of Harvest Qi. The most well known is spirit paddies, but unless we pull all the paddies in Xia Prefecture together, the effect won't be enough, if I wish to aim for Dao Imprint."
Liu Zhenyi nodded. "And the second is?"
"Ancestral Trees."
Liu Zhenyi raised an eyebrow. He knew what Ancestral Trees were—old trees that grew near the center of clans, sharing certain bonds of destiny and bloodline with the clan. The Liu Family had one. "Will our Ancestral Tree be enough?"
Liu Wanxiu shook her head. "Initially, yes, but probably not enough to reach the Late Stage of Foundation Establishment, and certainly not enough for impacting Dao Imprint. There is a solution, but once the pieces are in place it will take decades to develop, so I humbly request we act quickly."
"And the solution is?"
Wanxiu showed a look of regret. "At first, I hoped we could just seize Ancestral Trees directly from various small clans. Alas, the forces of destiny and bloodline are too mighty for a meager cultivator like me to force." Hearing this, Zhenyi gave her a look of understanding. Wanxiu continued, "The key is to create a network of Ancestral Trees, having others bow towards ours, increasing its vitality. I was in seclusion for so long before breaking through to Foundation Establishment. The reason was that I was devising this."
As she said that, she handed Liu Zhenyi a jade slip. He scratched his neck as he glanced at the contents. "'Root-Bridge Covenant Art?' 'Creating a tributary channel, making one tree the trunk…very good, Xiu'er!"
Wanxiu smiled, explaining, "The key of this art is to not force the Ancestral Tree, but to change what it targets as kin. The problem is that we must set up formations around the branch trees, so the small clans must comply."
Zhenyi smiled. "That shouldn't be a problem, we'll give it a year or two then make up a reason. Those older Foundation Establishment families won't trust us, so give them some face and don't target them."
Wanxiu bobbed her head up and down, "This Junior wouldn't dare."
Zhenyi went on, "Your technique needs those without complete spiritual sense to act as intermediaries… I assume because of their lack of identity in the Sea of Suffering? Choose a few talented juniors. Oh, there's an interesting new junior who appeared after you'd gone into seclusion."
Wanxiu raised a brow, "Who?"
"His name is Liu Yuming, with an Earth-grade root, from a mortal branch."
"Earth-grade from a mortal branch?"
"Suprising, I know. The Zhan Branch has some designs on him, but it gives us some benefits too. You might want to look into him."
….
After the Foundation Establishment, the children of Far Lantern Peak didn't stop talking for hours. Even instructors were noticeably a step or two off for the rest of the day.
Foundation Establishment. Yuming had heard the term before, and he had met Liu Xuehan, who stood at that towering realm. But hearing a person declare it on the mountain—and hearing Heaven and Earth anser—was different. For the remainder of the day, Yuming couldn't shake the feeling that Liu Wanxiu had become heavier, and everyone else had become lighter in comparison.
That night, Yuming lay in bed staring upwards while his dormmates whispered outside. Some of the boys spoke with worship, others with jealousy. Yuming mostly felt anxious. Power is the right to exist as yourself, he thought. If Liu Wanxiu was acknowledged as real, what was he?
He finally felt the same sense of insignificance his father, Liu Dichun, had displayed day after day. But at least he had the ability to change, he could cultivate. And cultivation was about making yourself real.
But cultivation wasn't about just strength—it was about scarcity. But who truly deserved those resources? Even amongst cultivators, who truly deserved time?
Yuming's lips tightened as he thought to himself.
Mortals don't truly exist as independent beings.
Liu Xuehan had spoken plainly: mortals were the moon reflecting on the lake. The reflection might be beautiful, but if the waters churned, the reflection wouldn't endure. It would be foolish, then, for him to dive into the water grasping at the moon's dissipating image.
Yuming's chest rose and fell, his gaze turning cold.
The Sea of Suffering doesn't care about fairness, it cares about who can endure.
He had shown mercy to Liu Renshu, and it had earned him probation. He had called the demonic cultivators "benefits," but in truth he'd wanted to protect villagers who would never even understand what they owed him.
Even now, when he tried to cultivate, his thoughts drifted to Willowbank—to a mortal home that would one day crumble into dust—slowing him down, withering away his path of escape.
Yuming closed his eyes.
If he wanted to condense his identity and become real, he couldn't continue to scatter himself.
….
Three months passed.
During this time, the pond became familiar to Liu Yuming in a way nothing else on the mountain was. He came as soon as it was available, at the crack of dawn, when the air still tasted fresh. He came after work when his wrists were sore from copying contracts, or after training, when his legs trembled from combat drills.
In these three months, Yuming had discovered that opening the Ren Meridian was not a matter of talent. It was a matter of what he allowed himself to do.
On this morning, Yuming sat by the pond, his back straight and his robe folded neatly over his knees. He gently placed the tip of his tongue against the roof of his mouth, taking a deep exhale. Then a small inhale.
His awareness sank within himself. To the sternum, the solar plexus, the navel, the lower abdomen, each body part ached terribly.
Did I feel something? Was that coolness? Is it opening?
He stopped thinking, reminding himself not to resist. The Unbroken Ledger True Sutra didn't allow for grasping at straws, it was about allowing yourself to become.
He exhaled again, emptying his lungs, not forcing his breath. Then, a faint coolness pecked at the center of his sternum.
Reflexively, he almost seized the feeling. But he calmed his mind, told himself not to be greedy, and acted as if nothing had happened. He just received it.
The cool sensation slid down, to the solar plexus, then to the naval. Warmth pooled beneath his naval in response, causing his throat to tighten abruptly.
Without warning, he felt a surge of emotions. He saw the graying hairs of his father, the funeral smoke of Willowbank, his sister's trembling shoulders, his brother's plea not to forget them.
Yuming felt deep shame.
He wanted to reject, but the Ren Meridian was the Receiving Gate—it wouldn't open if things were refused. Yuming exhaled. He didn't deny his feeling of shame, nor did he indulge in it, he just let it sift through him.
The coolness began to drop. Warmth began gathering, spiraling towards a single point below the navel. Yuming felt it settle, and a latch close within him. A gate had formed along the front midline of his body, a road of reception.
Ren Meridian—opened!