As Wu Yan sat, the air shifted. Her Qi spiked abruptly, like a dam bursting, then twisted inward, condensing into a whirlpool that surged around her. The wind bent to its pull, snow lifting from the ground and whipping violently in a miniature tornado.
It seed she had gained an insight after watching Song Song’s technique and after feeling the instinctual dread of a strike that targeted the soul. Though her breakthroughs were still a bit violent.
When I first t her, Wu Yan lacked this kind of talent. She hadn’t been born into a martial family; her foundations were shaky, and her practice was slow. But she was no longer that helpless girl.
A part of still struggled with that truth. Even as she rose toward heights that would soon leave behind, I couldn’t help but see her as fragile.
And worse, I feared she might be corrupted by the world. Wu Yan was the one person I considered pure of heart. She was kind and innocent, like a child.
Well, she was a child. Seventeen, if I recalled correctly. In my eyes, still just a kid.
I’d killed plenty of people her age for one reason or another. Yet watching her now, guilt gnawed at . If sothing were to happen to Wu Yan, it would devastate . Did the families of those I killed feel the sa? Did their brothers, sisters, or parents ache the way I would?
Perhaps so were stronger than I, hardened by loss. In this place it wasn’t too weird to lose soone close to you. Still, a brother was a brother, a son still a son.
I shook the thought away before it rooted too deep.
I couldn’t afford sentintality. The last thing I needed in a fight was to hesitate, thinking of Wu Yan, while an enemy felt nothing for in return.
I glanced at Song Song. She wore a proud smile, eyes alight with excitent. She’d never mistreated Wu Yan, but she had never truly seen her until now. That was just her nature.
Even at their first eting, Song Song had shown curiosity, but Wu Yan hadn’t carried the spark she searched for in people, or so she’d explained.
So people were difficult to love, weighed down by worry that they’ll be hurt, or that our choices will twist them into sothing else. But Song Song was easy to care for. Her unyielding personality felt unshakable, sothing I couldn’t ruin or change even if I tried.
She turned from Wu Yan and caught my gaze, nodding with a knowing smirk.
Hm? What was that supposed to an? Sure, we often understood each other without words, but it wasn’t as if I could read her mind. We didn’t have a telepathic bond.
For three hours, I stood by Wu Yan’s side. As her breakthrough unfolded, the worry gnawing at slowly eased.
The tornado of snow around her weakened, and so did her Qi’s surging tide, the clearest sign of success.
Song Song and Fu Yating lingered as well, though for different reasons. Song Song wanted to see what technique Wu Yan had forged, while Fu Yating stayed simply because she liked her. At least, that was the only reason I could think of. Fu Yating was never easy to read.
Despite her aloofness, she and I weren’t so different. Both of us changed only when it was convenient for us.
Watching Wu Yan grow felt like being a parent reluctant to shatter a child’s illusions about Santa Claus and hesitant to stain their innocent view of the world. Yet just like a child who learns the truth, Wu Yan would grow, and with growth ca disillusionnt. That was harder to accept than I wanted to admit.
Finally, Wu Yan’s eyes opened. Her Qi stilled, the snow settled, and before she could catch her breath, Song Song was already in her face.
“So, what new technique did you make?” she asked.
Wu Yan frowned, visibly uncomfortable but too polite to tell Song Song off. Her gaze flicked to instead, silently asking for help.
But the mont our eyes t, her face paled, and her stare turned icy cold. She looked ready to attack.
Then, just as quickly, her expression shifted. Realization dawned, and her gaze softened again.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Wu Yan shook her head with a smile. “Nothing.”
She turned back to Song Song, ready to explain her technique.
“Keep it brief,” I warned. “And don’t reveal your foundation techniques. Not to anyone.”
I trusted the people here. But trust wasn’t the sa as certainty. Who knew who might be listening? Song Song’s father almost certainly was. If not him, then one of his lackeys. He’d be a fool not to monitor the body he planned to claim.
Wu Yan nodded at my words. Song Song looked ready to argue, but whatever she saw in my eyes made her pause.
Fu Yating, too, glanced at once, as if she shared the sa suspicion that we were being spied on.
So truths were better left unsaid.
“I nad my new technique Internal Arrangent,” Wu Yan said.
“Boo, that na sucks,” Song Song cut in. “That sounds exactly like sothing Liu Feng would na if it dealt with the soul. Too… clean. How about Earth and Heaven Internal Reconstruction? That’s a good na.”
“That’s a long na,” Wu Yan replied ekly.
“Hey, let the girl na her own skills,” I intervened.
Song Song grumbled but stepped back, letting Wu Yan continue.
“My technique focuses on the soul,” Wu Yan explained, brushing aside that small skirmish. “Its strength is that it allows to manipulate my own.”
Manipulate. That was an interesting choice of words. Her elent was change, but the way she phrased it made it sound closer to control. A subtle difference, yet very crucial.
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Control ant bending a soul within its existing limits. But change went further. Change could redefine limits entirely. A monkey under control remained a monkey. Change was what made monkeys evolve into humans.
Wu Yan closed her eyes and exhaled slowly, gathering herself. Her presence dimd. It wasn’t just her Qi drawing in and it was as if her very existence blurred, like a candle behind frosted glass. Flaws lingered in her control, faint ripples betraying inexperience, but the resemblance to Song Song’s soul-concealing art was clear. Crude still, yes, but promising.
She was reshaping her soul.
The thought made my stomach tighten.
“Don’t practice this recklessly,” I warned. “Rember how your first art affected your ntality. Fix the shape and texture of your soul in your mory, so you can return to it when needed.”
Wu Yan nodded and released the technique at once.
Song Song looked disappointed, but with present, she didn’t push further.
With little left to do, we left her at her new ho and took flight. This ti, I encased the team in a square jade array and levitated it forward. Fu Yating was calr now as my craft didn’t shudder like a leaf in the wind. A far cry from the wobbling ride of her flying sword, where she was constantly shifting to find balance.
When we touched down in our green yard, wooden house on one side, stone on the other, I opened a door in the jade construct. Fu Yating stepped off the platform, steady at last.
“Ah, I have a new appreciation for this place,” Fu Yating said, glancing toward Speedy. “At least that guy isn’t so chaotic and he always keeps the peace around here.”
Humming a local tune from her hotown, she settled into the rocking chair on the porch, stretching her arms before sighing in relief.
“What was with that reaction right after your breakthrough?” I asked Wu Yan once we were out of Fu Yating’s earshot.
“I thought you were being controlled,” Wu Yan admitted. “Or maybe taken over. Your soul feels… strange. Like conjoined twins, where neither can live without the other. And it’s heavy, far heavier than most.”
I nodded at her reasoning. Logical, well-observed. Still, I had the feeling she suspected more about than she let on. Unlike Song Song, Wu Yan actually read diligently and followed instructions. She likely guessed I wasn’t from this world, but since I never ntioned it, she let the matter drop.
“You should be careful of people with souls like this,” I warned. “They may have abilities that don’t make sense.”
Wu Yan raised a brow but let the subject rest when I offered no more.
I ca from a world with no supernatural elents, or so I believed. As an ordinary office worker, I wouldn’t exactly be privy to hidden mysteries.
After bringing the girls ho, I returned to the library, the only place that cald .
I sat on the pagoda roof, feet dangling over the edge.
Now that I’d published a book with Song San, there wasn’t much left to challenge my academic pursuits. My thoughts drifted toward the schooling of the world. Seeing Wu Yan’s breakthrough only sharpened these beliefs. Perhaps having soone so much like a daughter softened again.
I thought of the countless young cultivators destined to die needlessly. They were still just children, despite the label of “cultivator” forced on them. The thought pressed heavy on .
I sighed, pulling a book from my storage ring to chase those feelings away. It covered curse arrays, a nearly lost craft I’d been studying.
Although not fully demonic, these inscriptions leaned in closely. They had faded from practice because modern formations prioritized efficiency with raw destruction, maximum effect with minimal Qi. By contrast, older curses were almost ritualistic.
So intrigued . One I’d dubbed the Vampire Curse would brand a person to appear monstrous under sunlight. With a larger formation, I could cast it over a whole area, affecting everyone inside.
At lower levels, they were almost useless. It was no wonder the craft had died out. But as pranks, they had potential.
…
Ti passed, and soon winter was on its last legs. Snow no longer fell in heavy curtains but in soft, lazy flakes that lted as soon as they touched the warming earth. Icicles thinned, dripping steadily into tiny rivulets that traced along rooftops and stone pathways. The biting chill in the air eased, replaced by the faintest whisper of spring with a breeze carrying the scent of thawing soil and blossoms yet to bloom.
It was the kind of change you didn’t notice all at once, but in subtler ways: how your breath no longer stead as much, how the morning frost lingered a little less each day.
I sat atop one of the rebuilt buildings beside the inner sect cafeteria, watching students dine in unthinkable luxury. Every dish carried the flesh of Core Formation beasts that were once unattainable even for elders before the beast waves.
At first, observing these youths eating felt unsettling, almost. But I got used to it. After all, one was only a creep if they got caught.
This had been my study subject for a while now: the disciples’ consumption of beast at and its effect on cultivation.
The results so far were underwhelming. The first week showed promise, but their bodies quickly adapted, flushing out most of the foreign Qi. It was as though their systems instinctively treated it as a toxin, rejecting more than they absorbed.
I tapped my chin, already outlining study plans for both inner and outer disciples.
And with spring’s arrival ca old thoughts, resurfacing. I couldn’t shake the idea of a new schooling system.
Logically, it was reckless. I was weak, just a Foundation Establishnt cultivator, and pushing for such reforms carried risks.
But my nature wouldn’t let it go. Almost against my own judgnt, the idea rooted itself deeper. So I sought perspective, turning to the few people I both trusted and respected.
First was Fu Yating. After explaining the matter in ticulous detail, she studied in silence, gears clearly turning in her head.
“You want to implent a new education system for the lesser disciples,” she repeated at last, “and use your new elder position to push it forward?”
I nodded.
Her eyes lingered on mine, as though weighing whether to say sothing she hadn’t yet decided I was ready to hear.
“Trying to dissuade you from this will probably be useless, since you’ve already made up your mind,” Fu Yating grumbled. “But keep in mind, you might end up creating stronger, smarter enemies in the future. And knowing you, you’ll probably succeed, which only makes that risk worse.”
Well, that was a nice dose of encouragent. But it wasn’t as simple as she made it sound. She seed to think that whatever I set my mind to, I would inevitably succeed.
“Having smarter enemies would at least make things more interesting,” I joked. “It gets boring fighting the sa arrogant fools over and over, just with different faces.”
Fu Yating gave a long look, then sighed.
“I have to water so flowers,” she muttered before walking away.
After that, I went to the second person I had in mind: Song Song. She was the opposite of Fu Yating when it ca to advice.
I found her cultivating atop her house, using the more efficient thod I had copied from Jiang Yeming. When she sensed approaching, she paused, smiled, and welcod as I landed on the roof of her white mansion.
I wasted no ti explaining the situation.
“Just do whatever you want, and I’ll back you,” Song Song shrugged, as if it were the simplest thing in the world.
“I ca for advice, not blind support,” I said. “Did you even listen to what I just told you?”
“No, not really. Once you started with that complaining tone, I tuned you out,” she admitted shalessly. “Bring a more exciting problem next ti, like assassins or conspiracies. Still, here’s my advice: do it anyway. You have one of the sect’s few Core Elders on your side now. No one will dare oppose you.”
Ultimately, after hearing from both of them, I made my decision.
Even if the idea proved unpopular at first and even if it ca back to haunt later, if it succeeded, it would an tens of thousands, maybe hundreds of thousands of cultivators thinking, creating, and developing new techniques.
Among them could be the next Einstein, Newton, or Tesla of the cultivation world.
Just the thought made my heart beat faster with excitent.
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