The city of Lianmu shrank behind them with every step, its familiar rooftops and weather-worn gates slowly swallowed by the morning mist.
No disguises this ti. No caravans or shadows to blend into. Tian Shen walked the open road with his head held high, the serpent-lotus seal still tingling on his shoulder beneath the fabric.
Beside him, Feng Yin adjusted the strap of her travel pack, glancing sideways.
"You sure about this?"
"About not hiding anymore?"
Tian Shen asked, a slight smile tugging at his lips.
"Yeah."
Her eyes narrowed.
"We’ve drawn attention. Soone was watching, soone unfathomable. You sensed it too, didn’t you?"
"I did."
He tightened the grip on his sword’s hilt.
"But if we keep running, we’ll never grow strong enough to face what’s coming. If we want to survive the storm, we need to step into it."
Feng Yin exhaled through her nose, long and slow.
"So. No more back alleys and hidden inns."
"No more smallness," Tian Shen said.
They walked in silence for a while, the road stretching forward like a pale ribbon.
Hills rolled gently on either side, and in the distance, smoke spiraled from scattered villages.
As noon approached, they ca upon a crossroads where a wooden signpost pointed toward three destinations. One caught Tian Shen’s eye.
"Mount Feilun."
Feng Yin followed his gaze.
"That’s the sect territory, isn’t it?"
"Yeah. The Feilun Sword Sect. Mid-tier, but they recruit openly and often. The perfect place to strengthen ourselves."
"You really want to join a sect?"
He nodded.
"We need training grounds, resources, a place to sharpen ourselves. And most of all... information."
’And attributes.’
He inwardly added.
She paused.
"You an about the Honoured Ones."
Tian Shen nodded slowly.
"We’ve awakened the Sage’s legacy. But Master Gu made it clear—there were others. The Sage was just one piece of sothing bigger. If we want to understand what this power truly is... we need to find the rest."
Feng Yin’s expression darkened.
"Which ans, we’ll need to draw attention. Make waves, Ones that puts targets on our backs."
He smiled faintly.
"Good thing I have you to watch mine."
She rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it.
Eight days passed in grueling travel. They hunted their als, dodged occasional bandits, and kept their cultivation rotating day and night.
Each night, Tian Shen ditated. The seal pulsed like a second heartbeat, whispering fragnts of mory and sensation into his dreams—flashes of a group of people in golden robes, walking across a battlefield of gods, speaking to shadows older than ti.
Feng Yin, too, seed restless. She practiced talismans in the dark, her techniques growing more refined.
Once, Tian Shen saw her whistling softly while polishing a blade, her expression hidden beneath her bangs.
By the ti Mount Feilun rose into view—its peaks crowned in mist and the main gates carved into a stone cliff—they both looked less like wanderers and more like warriors.
Dozens of people were gathered outside the sect’s entrance courtyard when they arrived.
Young cultivators, many barely out of their teens, stood in anxious rows. So wore fine silks, others plain cloth and patched gear. But all had the sa glint in their eyes.
Desire.
Hope.
Fear.
A stern elder in grey robes stood before them, arms crossed. His beard was silver, and a long scar crossed his brow. Two inner disciples flanked him.
"You’ve all co to be tested for entry into the Feilun Sword Sect," the elder barked.
"Know this—failure ans rejection. There are no second chances. We do not accept cowards, weaklings, or glory-chasers."
Tian Shen and Feng Yin stepped into the back of the group without fanfare.
"First test," the elder continued, "is the talent test. Touch the stone and show us your talent."
A large stone slab was wheeled forward. One by one, hopefuls placed their palms upon it.
So made the stone glow blue—low affinity. Others triggered green or yellow—a sign of moderate potential.
A rare few made it shimr orange or red—high-grade talents.
When it ca to Tian Shen’s turn, he exhaled once and stepped forward. Whispers already chased his steps—his bearing was too calm, his gear too clean despite the road dust.
He pressed his hand to the stone.
The thing dimly lit up with yellow hue.
The crowd gasped, as they had high expectations from his clothing.
The elder’s eyes narrowed.
"Mid grade cultivation talent."
"Is that good?"
Tian Shen asked mildly.
The elder didn’t answer. Instead, he motioned.
"Next!"
Feng Yin stepped forward.
When her hand touched the stone, it flared an crimson radiance.
The elder blinked.
"High grade talent."
Feng Yin gave a short nod and stepped back beside Tian Shen.
"We pass?"
"For now," the elder growled. "Next test: practical combat."
The courtyard split into several sparring rings.
Inner disciples stepped forward, each one a trained cultivator in their second or third stage.
"You’ll face an inner disciple. Land a strike within ten breaths of ti—pass. Fail, and you’re out."
Many faltered here. Strong in theory, but weak in execution.
Then Tian Shen stepped into the ring.
His opponent was a lean youth with two curved swords. "Let’s not waste ti," the boy said with a sneer.
Tian Shen didn’t.
He moved like lightning—drawing his spirit sword and vanishing into a blur. His strike ca from behind, the flat of his blade touching the boy’s neck before he even turned.
The ten breaths hadn’t even started.
Stunned silence followed.
The elder nodded once.
"Pass."
Feng Yin’s battle was more subtle. Her opponent underestimated her. A single 3-star talisman brushed past his cheek—and he froze, sweat pouring as he realized how close to death he’d been.
"Poison talisman?" the elder asked coolly.
"Of sleep toxin."
Feng Yin replied.
The elder snorted.
"Pass."
By the end of the day, only ten of the fifty hopefuls had passed.
Tian Shen and Feng Yin were among them.
That night, they were shown their assigned quarters—a modest stone chamber on the outer edge of the mountain.
"I expected nothing better."
Tian Shen muttered, eyeing the hard beds.
Feng Yin smirked.
"Welco to sect life, again."
They lit a lantern and sat facing each other on the floor.
Tian Shen opened his palm, revealing a map—the one got from yhe evil serpent disciple.
"I think I found sothing."
He said.
Feng Yin leaned forward.
"What is it?"
"This mark here."
He tapped a symbol—like a broken crown.
"It matches a seal that appeared in one of my dreams. I think it’s connected to another Honoured One."
Feng Yin’s eyes lit up.
"Where?"
"West from here, i guess."
"But in that direction is the forbidden range."
She warned.
Tian Shen’s gaze didn’t waver.
"Exactly the kind of place the old legacies would hide."
She hesitated.
"You want to search for it now?"
"No. We build strength first. Train. Let the sect teach us what we’re missing. And when we’re ready... we hunt for the next inheritance."
Feng Yin leaned back, expression thoughtful.
"You’re not the sa as when we first t."
She said quietly.
"You’re much less dumber now."
Tian Shen rebuked.
"Hey, that’s provoking."
Feng Yin closed her eyes, whispering playfully.
"And what are you gonna do about it?."
Tian Shen grinned smugly
"I am gonna punish you for it, my wife."
"Kyaaa~, s-slow down."
...
Morning.
The next morning ca harsh and cold, the mountain air crisp as frost.
Tian Shen stood on a rocky terrace just outside the outer disciple quarters, staring at the rising sun.
The wind whipped his robe, tugging at the edges like invisible fingers.
He wasn’t alone.
"Can’t sleep either?"
He asked Feng Yin as she approached, her arms folded, two steaming cups of bitter leaf tea in her hand.
"Hmph, you have the nerve to ask after you did so roughly last night."
Feng Yin, pouting, turned away, but only after giving him his.
He took it without a word and sipped.
"It’s too quiet here."
Feng Yin nodded, her expression unreadable.
"It’s the calm before the storm. You feel it too, right? The sect isn’t as peaceful as it looks."
Tian Shen’s eyes narrowed.
"There are currents beneath the surface. The inner disciples are divided into factions. I overheard two guys gossiping yesterday."
"You planning to get involved?"
He shook his head.
"Not yet. But I want to watch."
Feng Yin smirked.
"You say that, but trouble tends to find you."
Before he could reply, a bell rang out across the mountain—deep and solemn.
The Trial Bell.
Both of them turned toward the sound. From all corners of the outer disciple courtyard, cultivators erged, whispering.
An outer disciple sprinted toward them, panting.
"New recruits! You’ve been summoned by Elder Xuan! He’s chosen a few of you to accompany an expedition into the lower training peaks!"
Tian Shen’s eyes glead.
"Already?"
Feng Yin arched a brow.
"That was fast."
"Apparently so spirit beasts have overbred in the ravine," the disciple continued breathlessly. "They’re sending us to help thin the herds—and to observe how well new disciples adapt under pressure."
A mission disguised as a culling. Tian Shen recognized the logic imdiately. It was a field test.
"Accept?"
Feng Yin asked, brushing windblown strands from her cheek.
"Of course."
He said with a grin.
"What better way to make a profit?"
Within an hour, they stood at the northern gate, equipped with sect-issued jade tokens and basic provisions.
Four other new recruits joined them—two boys with twin sabers and a girl who carried a massive staff taller than herself.
An inner disciple, dour-faced and silent, led them with a flick of his robes.
They descended into the ravine, a shadowed cleft in the mountain range that reeked of damp moss and beast musk.
The canopy thickened, and surrounding aura hung heavier in the air.
Tian Shen observed few footprints on the soil.
"They’re close."
Feng Yin’s hand moved into her robe, ready to withdraw talismans.
And then the growls ca.
Dozens of red-eyed spirit wolves erged from the undergrowth, fangs bared, claws tearing into the stone.
Tian Shen smiled.
"Let’s show them what we newbies can do."
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