Morning arrived quietly in the outer disciple courtyard.
Mist drifted between the wooden residences, clinging to the ground like a living thing. The distant sound of flowing water echoed from somewhere deep within the mountains, steady and eternal.
Li Yuan opened his eyes before the bell rang.
He had barely slept.
Not because of excitement—but because of clarity.
In his previous life, mornings like this had been filled with nervous anticipation. He had worried about cultivation speed, about falling behind, about being overlooked. Every day had felt like a silent competition he was destined to lose.
Now, his mind was calm.
Because for the first time, he knew exactly what mattered.
Not how fast I grow, he thought, sitting up.
But what I create.
The bell rang.
Outer disciples poured out of their residences, forming loose lines as stewards began assigning daily tasks—fetching water, cleaning paths, tending herb fields, assisting inner disciples.
Li Yuan listened carefully.
"Outer Disciple Li Yuan," a steward called, glancing down at his list. "Herb Field Three. Basic maintenance."
Exactly the same assignment as before.
Li Yuan stepped forward and accepted the wooden plaque marking his task.
Herb Field Three was located on a lower slope of the sect, where spiritual energy was thinner and the plants less valuable. It was where outer disciples with mediocre performance were sent.
He walked there alone.
The path wound downward, away from the main peaks, past stone terraces carved into the mountainside. The air grew quieter with every step.
As he worked—pulling weeds, checking moisture, inspecting leaves—Li Yuan observed everything.
Which herbs were neglected.
Which plots received less attention.
Which disciples passed by often… and which never did.
Time passed slowly.
Around midday, footsteps approached.
Li Yuan straightened slightly, though he did not turn immediately.
"Li Yuan?"
The voice was soft, hesitant.
He froze.
That voice.
He turned.
A young woman stood a short distance away, wearing the same outer disciple robes. Her appearance was unremarkable—neither strikingly beautiful nor plain. Her eyes, however, were clear and steady, carrying a quiet persistence that Li Yuan recognized instantly.
Chen Yue.
In his previous life, she had been one of the few people who ever spoke to him without ulterior motives.
They had entered the sect in the same batch.
They had struggled at similar speeds.
They had failed at similar moments.
And then they had gone their separate ways.
Li Yuan felt a subtle tightening in his chest.
"So it really is you," Chen Yue said, offering a small smile. "I thought I recognized your name during roll call."
Li Yuan nodded. "Chen Yue. You were assigned nearby?"
She lifted the plaque in her hand. "Herb Field Four. Just uphill."
A pause followed.
In his previous life, this was where he would have smiled awkwardly, exchanged a few polite words, and returned to work.
This time, he looked at her carefully.
The system interface stirred faintly at the edge of his awareness.
No prompts.
No warnings.
Just… presence.
She matters, he realized.
Not because the system said so.
But because she was real.
"How has your cultivation been?" Li Yuan asked.
Chen Yue hesitated, then shrugged. "Slow. My root isn't great. But I'm not giving up."
The words echoed painfully close to his own past.
"I see," Li Yuan said.
They worked in silence for a while, occasionally exchanging short remarks about techniques, herb care, and the sect's rules. It felt natural. Familiar.
Dangerously so.
Because Li Yuan understood something now that he hadn't before.
Comfort can be a trap.
When the sun reached its peak, Chen Yue wiped sweat from her brow and glanced at him.
"Li Yuan," she said carefully, "do you ever think about the future?"
He looked at her.
"In what way?"
She hesitated, choosing her words. "I mean… beyond the sect. Beyond cultivation. About what kind of life you want."
In his previous life, he would have answered vaguely. Survive. Advance. Not be left behind.
This time, he spoke honestly.
"Yes," he said. "I think about it constantly."
Chen Yue seemed surprised.
Li Yuan met her gaze steadily.
"I don't want to fade away," he continued. "I don't want my life to end without leaving anything behind."
Her eyes widened slightly.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Chen Yue smiled faintly. "That's… ambitious."
"No," Li Yuan said quietly. "It's necessary."
Something shifted between them.
Not romance.
Not yet.
But recognition.
That night, Li Yuan returned to his room earlier than usual.
He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and summoned the system.
The interface appeared.
Eternal Progenitor System
[Marriage Bonds Available: 1]
A new line appeared beneath it.
[Candidate Detected: Chen Yue]
Compatibility: Stable
Bloodline Variance: Moderate
Long-Term Risk: Low
Potential Growth: Unknown
Li Yuan stared at the words for a long time.
This was not a command.
Not a quest.
Just information.
The first choice cannot be rewritten, the system had warned.
Chen Yue was not powerful.
Not special.
Not destined for greatness on her own.
But she was steady.
And stability… could support growth.
Li Yuan closed the interface.
He did not decide immediately.
Because this time, he would not act out of fear.
Outside, the sect lights flickered one by one as night fell.
Somewhere in the vast future, countless descendants would look back to this moment without ever knowing it existed.
Li Yuan opened his eyes.
"Tomorrow," he murmured. "I'll decide tomorrow."
The system did not respond.
But for the first time, it felt closer than ever.
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