The sun rose over Green Lotus Town, casting golden light over rooftops and stalls as Xiao Xuan stepped into the street. The air was thick with woodsmoke and incense, but also something else — anticipation. Something inside him had shifted.
He walked with no clear destination. His body still bore the aches of rejection, but his mind moved with clarity. Every corner of the city reminded him of what he lacked — sect robes, spiritual power, wealth. Even children carried more than he did. But today, those reminders didn't sting. They clarified.
By the time he reached a small plaza near the alchemy district, the town was fully awake. Vendors shouted prices, disciples argued about pills, and the scent of spirit beast meat on skewers danced in the air. Xiao Xuan ignored it all.
He took a seat at the edge of a cracked stone fountain and closed his eyes. For the first time since arriving in this world, he wasn't overwhelmed. He understood the rules now: power ruled everything.
But brute power wasn't the only path. Legacy, loyalty, structure — these could form a fortress just as strong.
"I need a family," he murmured. "Not one I was born into — one I build."
He imagined a small sect, tucked in a quiet mountain. Disciples chosen not by spirit root, but by heart. A wife who chose him not for status, but conviction. Children trained with patience, not pressure.
He wanted to create something enduring. A name that wasn't feared, but respected. A place where people like him could rise.
His heart beat faster as the vision took form. He didn't need to defeat the Wind Lightning Sect. He just needed to make them irrelevant.
He left the plaza and wandered toward the city's edge. There, under the shadow of the east wall, a tattered merchant stall caught his eye.
The old man behind it was talking to a passerby. Xiao Xuan waited until they finished, then asked, "Do you know of any sect that takes people with no cultivation base?"
The merchant studied him. "Humble question. Ironwood Sect. Half a day northeast. Poor place. They accept laborers. Maybe you'll get lucky."
Xiao Xuan bowed. "That's more than enough."
That night, back at the inn, he opened his parchment again.
Objectives:
Join a sectGain access to a manualCultivate slowlyBuild trustRecruit
He folded the page carefully.
"Conviction alone won't lift mountains," he whispered, "but it can start the climb."
Tomorrow, he would walk to Ironwood Sect — and begin everything.### Chapter 6 – The Ironwood Path
Dawn crept slowly over the horizon as Xiao Xuan set out. His pack was light — only a waterskin, a few dried rations, and the parchment of goals he had written. But his steps were firm. He followed the directions the merchant had given, heading into the hills northeast of Green Lotus Town.
The walk was long and unremarkable. Dirt paths became rocky trails. Birds called from branches, and spirit beasts rustled in the undergrowth, though none approached. The further he traveled, the more the world seemed to quiet.
By midday, he reached a stone bridge arched over a stream. Beyond it, a simple wooden gate stood beneath a moss-covered archway — the entrance to Ironwood Sect. There were no guards, no aura of grandeur. Just a sign etched with three rough characters: Ironwood Gate.
A youth in rough robes approached, holding a broom. He blinked at Xiao Xuan. "Here to apply for handyman work?"
Xiao Xuan nodded. "Yes."
The boy pointed toward a small hall. "Speak with Elder Mu. Don't say anything stupid."
Inside, the air smelled of old wood and dust. Elder Mu was a middle-aged man with streaks of gray in his hair and tired eyes. He glanced up lazily as Xiao Xuan entered.
"You can cook? Clean? Chop wood?"
"I can learn," Xiao Xuan replied.
"You cultivate?"
"No."
Elder Mu grunted. "Doesn't matter. You'll be scrubbing floors and fetching water. You get food, a bed, and if you don't die of laziness, maybe a chance to observe a class. Interested?"
Xiao Xuan bowed. "Yes, Elder."
The man tossed him a hemp robe and a wooden token. "Then welcome to the bottom. Don't expect much."
And yet, for Xiao Xuan, it was everything.
He stepped into the servant quarters — ten small rooms tucked beneath the main hall. His was bare: a straw bed, a bucket, a lantern.
He placed his parchment list beside the bed, smiled faintly, and whispered, "Step one, complete."