Lin Mo's heart pounded like a drum as he stepped into the vast hall of the Red Nimbus Sect. The morning light filtered through the high windows, casting long shadows on the polished floor. Around him dozens of other recruits sat in neat rows, their faces a mixture of eagerness, fear, and boredom, he himself was the same, exited.
Okay, Lin Mo, he told himself, focus. No zoning out, no weird daydreams about—nope, not now. But the itch of those forbidden thoughts was already there, flickering in the back of his mind, he had always had these thoughts as well as every other young man. Why did cultivation have to be so serious? Surely, there was room for a little fun… even in a sacred sect.
An elder draped in flowing robes, the elder had a long beard almost drooping to the floor, he wore pale red and green robes, flowing as he carried himself with dignity. The smell of sandalwood and something faintly floral drifted over Lin Mo's senses. The elder's voice echoed through the hall, smooth and commanding.
"Welcome to the Red Nimbus Sect. You stand now at the threshold of the Dao of Clouds—the path of freedom, flight, and transformation."
Lin Mo blinked. Freedom? Flight? Transformation? The words sounded nice, he could not help himself imagining flying on a cloud impressing the pretty disciples, their robes fluttering gently. The Cloud Dao always feels so... airy, up in the clouds, so untouchable? Why did that make his thoughts spiral in strange directions?
The elder continued, "The Cloud Dao is not merely about power — it is a philosophy. To cultivate the Cloud Dao is to understand impermanence and adapt to change. Like clouds, you must learn to flow with the world, to shift without losing yourself."
Lin Mo's eyes flicked to the window, watching the mist swirl outside. The words echoed something inside him, an itch, a question. Could he ever flow like that, becoming a cloud.
Lin Mo shifted in his seat, tuning out the elder's droning voice as his thoughts began to wander again—this time to the sect itself.
The Red Nimbus Sect.
A minor sect, if he was being honest. Not one of the great clans or any legendary sword palaces where disciples rode dragons and meditated beneath ancient starfire trees. No, the Red Nimbus Sect was more... modest. Respectable, certainly. Old, traditional. But no one was writing poems and legends about them.
They were known for their mastery of the Cload Dao—a path all about lightness, movement, and freedom of spirit. Cloud-walkers, mist-blade wielders, those who could vanish like vapor in the wind. It sounded elegant, even noble, but kind of vague.
Freedom, flow, impermanence... Lin Mo frowned faintly. He'd read all the scrolls he could get his hands on back home. Supposedly, the sect taught its disciples to "cultivate clarity by becoming like the drifting clouds" and to "shed the weight of worldly attachment." But what did that even mean? Were they just supposed to float around being mysterious?
Still, the sect had a reputation for producing graceful fighters and brilliant escape artists. Not the strongest, but slippery, smart, impossible to catch. The kind of cultivators who slipped past you and then struck when least expected.
Not bad, Lin Mo thought. There are worse things to be known for than an escape artist.
He looked around at the hall again. Most of the other disciples were from small villages like him, wide-eyed and awed by the marble pillars and embroidered banners hanging from the rafters. No one here came from royalty or elite cultivation clans. That was the unspoken truth: the Red Nimbus Sect was one of the sects to go to if you didn't get picked anywhere else.
If the Red Nimbus Sect had one thing going for it, it was the Dancing Cloud Fairy.
An immortal, One of the few in the sect.
She was said to have ascended over a hundred years ago but still lingered within the sect, half-present, half-absent. Her beauty was the stuff of dreams: long silver hair that drifted like fog in the breeze, eyes that always seemed to be spaced out, red deep eyes, and robes that never seemed to touch the ground, of course as well as well as a good figure, the most important thing, especially the behind.
And her temperament — ah, that was something else entirely.
They called her air-headed, a little... off. Spaced out, even during high-level lectures. Some elders whispered she was "too far into the Dao of Clouds" — her spirit floating somewhere above the mundane world. But Lin Mo? He thought it was perfect, he accepted all women in the world.
She was always just barely there, walking like a dream, smiling like a mystery. Like a fairy in the truest sense — beautiful, distant, untouchable.
And of course, since part of the scriptures were from her and her take on Cloud Dao philosophy, alot of the female disciples inherited at least a sliver of that floaty, distracted aura. Always in thought, always drifting, always a little... vague.
This, Lin Mo decided, was a plus.
While other sects trained sword maidens or ice-cold warriors who glared daggers at anyone that so much as blinked too loud, here? Here, they glided, they giggled to themselves, they stared into the distance mid-conversation.
-
Lin Mo closed the heavy wooden door behind him, shutting out the murmurs of the hall. His small room smelled faintly of incense and old paper, the thin mattress pressed into the corner beneath a low window that framed the swirling morning mist.
He threw his stuff in a dusty corner unfolded a worn scroll the elder had given them earlier—a passage from the Cloud Path scriptures, passed down through the Red Nimbus Sect titled: Freedom of the sky. The delicate brushstrokes danced across the page.
The Cloud Dao, Lin Mo murmured, tracing the characters with his finger. It comes from the Sky Root — one of the Primary Daos, the root of all things above and beyond.
He remembered the basics from his lessons: the Sky Root Dao represented the vast expanse overhead—limitless, ever-changing, and intangible. It was the Dao of freedom, movement, and Expanse, the breath of the heavens themselves.
To cultivate the Cloud Dao was to learn how to harness the Qi of wind and water, to become weightless and elusive. It was about being free from the earth, shifting without resistance, and embracing the subtle currents of the world.
Lin Mo took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill his lungs. He closed his eyes and tried to imagine himself as a drifting cloud as stated in the scripture, light and unbound. The teachings said to calm the mind and relax the body—to open the channels and let Qi circulate gently.
But the restless energy inside him refused to settle so easily.
Focus, Lin Mo. Flow like a cloud, shift like the wind. Don't get lost in those distracting thoughts.
He placed his palms flat on his knees and began the slow breathing exercises from the scripture, trying to steady his mind.
Lin Mo sat cross-legged, palms resting lightly on his knees, eyes closed as the scripture instructed. He focused on his breathing, slow, deep, and steady—in and out, like a gentle cloud floating in the sky.
Flow like a cloud.
At first, the cool air filled his lungs and a faint warmth stirred in his chest. He felt a flicker of Qi begening to condense.
But then—his mind started to wander.
Why does that pretty girl in the yard always wear those short robes? Doesn't she realize how the wind loves to play—lifting skirts and teasing with every breeze?
He clenched his jaw. No. Focus. Don't think about that.
The warmth in his chest flickered and dimmed.
The elder said to open the channels. Let the Qi flow, calm the mind, relax.
But how could he possibly relax when the wind itself seemed intent on revealing those treasures—each playful gust offering fleeting glimpses from new, tantalizing angles?
I wish I was the wind. He sighs in his mind
A prickling headache started in his mind.
Maybe I should just quit? Just this once.
Frustration bubbled up like storm clouds. He opened his eyes abruptly, breaking the posture, rubbing his temples.
Damn it, he muttered. How is anyone supposed to master the Cloud Dao when the sect hands out robes like this? Is this some kind of secret test—to see who can keep their focus amid all the... distractions?
He glanced back down at the scroll. The brushstrokes seemed to mock him now—so calm, so elegant. But his mind was a tempest.
"Flow like a cloud..." he whispered bitterly.
Lin Mo leaned back against the wall, sighing.
Lin Mo sighed, as the bitter words left his lips. His eyes flicked again to the scroll, but his mind refused to settle, there was no way he could cultivate.
A strange pressure pressed against his chest—not physical, but spiritual. A flicker of darkness, a whisper in the depths of his consciousness. His restless desires, the scattered thoughts, and mounting frustration were transforming into something within himself.
What is this? he thought, blinking.
Before he could focus, a faint shadow flickered in his mind. It was a tiny lump, it was no larger than his palm, with a tiny pair of eyes.
Its eyes gleamed with mischievous hunger, for thoughts and desires.
Lin Mo's heart skipped. A heart demon? He'd learned about them —spiritual fragments born from the turbulence of one's emotions, feeding on desire and thoughts. Minor ones were harmless at first, but they could grow dangerous if left unchecked.
The little demon twirled lazily in the air, its voice a soft whisper inside Lin Mo's mind.
"Restless one... tangled thoughts... why resist? Surrender to desire, no need to be calm.
Lin Mo's mind whirled, wary of losing control.
"Stay back" Lin Mo muttered, focusing hard to suppress the dark energy.
The heart demon chuckled, flickering like smoke in the breeze.
"You can't ignore me forever. I am part of you."
Lin Mo clenched his fists. His first true battle was not with swords or storms—it was within himself.
-
Lin Mo stepped out into the courtyard, hoping fresh air might clear his swirling mind. But the heart demon was right there, a constant shadow on his shoulder—whispering.
"Look at her... see how that thin silk barely covers her skin? Imagine what lies beneath... that supple-"
Lin Mo flushed, glaring at the empty air. Shut up!
"That one in the outer yard? What if you just coaxed the wind to play a little… see what secrets it might reveal?"
He clenched his fists, trying to push the thoughts away. But the demon chuckled softly.
"Why fight it? Desire is natural. Just admit it—you've been imagining those curves since morning."
The demon wasn't wrong. Those fleeting images of swirling skirts and soft fabric had invaded his mind during the lecture, during meditation—always just out of reach.
"Focus!" he hissed. But the whispers persisted.
"What if you slipped away, found a pretty disciple alone? What if she smiled at you, invited you to share a moment... or more?"
His face burned. He spun around as if to catch the demon in the act. "Stop! Enough!"
The demon only laughed, slowly deepening it's roots.
"You're not rid of me that easily, Lin Mo. I'm part of you— always with you."
Lin Mo swallowed hard. The relentless voice was exhausting, but he knew ignoring it wouldn't make it vanish.
He rubbed his temples, eyes scanning the courtyard until his gaze landed on the sect library.
Maybe... I can find answers in there. He started walking toward the building, the demon whispering yet more vivid, distracting fantasies.
-
Lin Mo flipped through the dusty pages of the scripture, his eyes catching a passage about cleansing the spirit.
"Rest and relaxation can soothe restless Qi and calm wandering hearts," the text read. "Sacred springs are blessed with purifying energies that ease the mind and dispel demons."
He closed the book with a decisive snap and stood up, rubbing his temples to soothe his head ache.
Maybe this heart demon won't be so easily banished, he thought, but a soak in the hot springs might at least quiet the noise.
Lin Mo cast one last glance toward the courtyard, where the wind still teased the robes of passing disciples.
"Alright, heart demon," he muttered under his breath, "let's see if a soak in the bath can calm you down."
With that, he stepped out, the promise of warm waters and quiet thoughts leading him onward.