The night was quiet, the kind of quiet that carried more weight than comfort. The courtyard lay bathed in a pale silver glow as the wind brushed softly against the bamboo fence, carrying with it the faint scent of pine from the mountain slopes. A lone crane's cry echoed in the distance before fading into the silence once more.
Duō Yī sat cross-legged on the cold stone mat, white hair falling across his shoulders like threads of moonlight. His expression was calm on the surface, but the stillness of his body betrayed the turbulence behind his eyes. He had been cultivating earlier, drawing threads of qi into his meridians, yet now his attention shifted inward, not on qi but on thought.
His eyes opened slowly, and with the faintest ripple of intent, a translucent status board appeared before him, floating in the night air.
[Name: Duō Yī]
[Race: Human]
[Status: Damaged Soul (X)]
[Realm: Qi Gathering Realm (3rd Stage)] [Mortal Flesh I]
[Life Span: 13/60]
[Abilities: HIVE]
[Skills: {Fundamental Elemental Fist}, {Qi Flow: Optimization Techniques}]
[Elemental Affinity: Null]
[Energy Reserve: 300/300]
[Current Replicas: 1/1]
[Current Qi: 700/1000]
His gaze lingered on a particular line.
"…Mortal Flesh." His voice was low, nearly lost to the night breeze. "It's displayed now. So once I advance, the board reflects it back at me. Realm and flesh, both recorded."
For a moment, silence. Then his thoughts sharpened.
"With me entering the sect, my first step is achieved. Now there are many paths ahead. Hei Lóng walks the body refinement road, while I tread qi refinement. But… if Hei Lóng grows too far in body realms, do I swap and become him? That would be a waste… yet I also need Hei Lóng's strong body. The benefits sound too good to let go."
The words escaped his lips in a whisper, hanging in the night air.
The dilemma gnawed at him. Distributing qi evenly between both forms would weaken his growth rate. At his current lifespan, halved progress might mean achieving nothing before his candle burned out. But to rely solely on Hei Lóng's flesh was to abandon the foundations he had built here. A flawed soul had little room for wasted effort.
Hours passed as he turned the thoughts over and over, weighing options, hunting for an answer that refused to come. At last, his eyes closed, and a long, heavy breath escaped his lips.
"…tch. I'll cross that bridge when it comes."
The night deepened. Wind brushed against the courtyard stones, carrying with it whispers of the mountains. Duō Yī sank into silence, not cultivating, but letting the stillness settle within him.
By morning, the White Crane Sect awoke with renewed vigor. Bells rang clear and crisp through the mountain air, while shadows of cranes wheeled gracefully overhead. Disciples in grey robes spilled into the courtyards and stone paths, voices mixing into a lively hum.
Duō Yī stepped from his quarters, his long white hair bound neatly behind him. The grey robe of an outer disciple hung straight across his shoulders, its sleeves rustling faintly in the breeze. His decision from last night weighed less heavily now; instead, a practical thought filled his mind.
I'll go to the Mission Hall. Perhaps seeing what lies ahead will sort out my thoughts…
The journey across the sect brought him through winding stone paths, where disciples hurried to their duties or conversed in tight circles. Some trained in open squares, strikes echoing like thunder against wooden dummies. Others tended small gardens, plucking herbs with patient care. The air was alive with motion, yet all of it flowed with a rhythm unique to the sect.
When the Mission Hall finally came into view, Duō Yī paused.
It was colossal. The building rose like a fortress, its obsidian-black walls polished to a mirror's sheen. Twin golden cranes, wings spread in eternal flight, were carved upon the titanic doors each nearly fifty feet high, dwarfing even the tallest disciple. Lanterns hung in neat rows along the eaves, their flames swaying in the mountain wind, casting warm light upon the vast stairway that led up to the entrance.
Stepping inside, the hall opened like a world unto itself. Vaulted ceilings soared above, supported by carved pillars etched with scenes of battle, flight, and cranes descending upon clouds. Hundreds no, thousands of disciples flowed in and out, their chatter echoing across the space.
The Mission Hall wasn't just grand; it was alive.
Snatches of conversation drifted to Duō Yī's ears as he moved through the bustling crowd:
"two days in the forest, and all we found was a half-dead fox spirit"
"Bah, I nearly lost an arm on that beast hunt, and you dare argue the reward is yours?"
"Herb gathering again? Better than getting mauled like him, look, he can barely stand."
A limping disciple, robes torn and bloodied, shuffled past with clenched teeth, while another group laughed boisterously near the mission board, bragging about their completed task. Every corner of the hall seemed to pulse with ambition, rivalry, and survival.
Duō Yī's steps carried him toward the towering mission boards at the center. Black walls were lined with scrolls and wooden plaques, each inscribed with neat calligraphy. Missions ranged from trivial errands, cleaning outer halls, carrying supplies to perilous undertakings: hunting rogue beasts in the forest, scouting dangerous territories, or escorting caravans through contested lands.
He was still scanning the listings when a familiar voice rang out.
"Brother Yī!"
Turning, Duō Yī saw Hú Lì weaving through the crowd toward him, his habitual laugh breaking free even before he stopped.
Hú Lì was tall and lean, his frame wiry yet well-proportioned, suggesting both agility and endurance. His unruly black hair fell just short of his shoulders, untamed no matter how it was tied back. Hazel-brown eyes shone beneath his brow bright, unassuming, carrying an easy warmth that drew people toward him. He too wore the grey outer disciple robes, though his belt sat carelessly loose at his waist, as if he had tied it in a hurry.
"Brother Yī," Hú Lì greeted again, his grin widening as he gave Duō Yī a hearty pat on the shoulder. "I was just thinking of you. Have you chosen a task yet?"
Duō Yī shook his head calmly. "Not yet."
"Perfect." Hú Lì leaned in slightly, lowering his voice just enough to sound conspiratorial. "Would you be willing to join me on my mission? Two others are already set to come along."
He paused, watching Duō Yī's face. Seeing hesitation, he chuckled and added, "Although team tasks take longer than solo ones, they grant far better rewards… resources, points, if we're lucky, all doubled or even tripled."
Duō Yī studied him for a long breath before finally giving a small nod. "Alright. I'll join."
Hú Lì's laugh rang out, bright and genuine. "Excellent! That makes you the last member we needed. Meet us at sundown, I'll introduce you to the others." With a final pat on the shoulder and a broad grin, he strode off into the crowd, humming cheerfully to himself.
Watching him go, Duō Yī allowed the faintest smile to tug at his lips. Then, turning back to the mission boards, he lingered a while longer, scanning through postings, not to choose, but simply to see the scope of what lay ahead.
When at last he had had his fill, he returned to his courtyard. Settling once more upon the stone mat, he closed his eyes not to dwell, nor to struggle, but simply to pass the hours in quiet meditation, waiting for the evening meeting.
Outside, the wind whispered against the eaves, carrying with it the cry of cranes echoing across the mountains.