Some people are born to soar above the clouds, while others are destined to crawl through the mud and Li Xiuying had tasted enough dirt to last a thousand lifetimes.
The morning bell of the Azure Phoenix Sect rang across the mountain peaks, its bronze voice echoing through courtyards where disciples in pristine white robes gathered for their daily cultivation. Li Xiuying knelt in the servants' quarters, scrubbing dried spiritual herb residue from ceramic bowls with fingers that had long since forgotten what softness felt like.
"Still here, trash?"
The voice cut through the morning air like a blade. Li Xiuying didn't need to look up to know who spoke—Chen Weilong, an inner disciple whose cultivation had reached Foundation Establishment at merely nineteen. His spiritual pressure pressed against her shoulders, a reminder of the vast chasm between them.
"This humble disciple greets Senior Brother Chen," she murmured, keeping her eyes fixed on the grimy bowl in her hands.
Chen Weilong's laugh was sharp enough to cut stone. "Humble disciple? You've been stuck at the first level of Qi Refinement for three years, Xiuying. Most children breakthrough within months. At this point, you're not even worth calling a cultivator."
Heat flashed across her cheeks, but Li Xiuying forced her breathing to remain steady. She'd learned long ago that reacting only fed their cruelty. "This one will work harder."
"Work harder?" Another voice joined in—Liu Meihua, a fellow outer disciple whose Foundation Establishment breakthrough last month had elevated her status considerably. "Sister Xiuying, some people simply aren't meant for cultivation. Perhaps you should consider returning to your village?"
The suggestion hung in the air like poison. Return to her village as a failed cultivator? She'd rather die.
"I'll breakthrough soon," Li Xiuying said quietly, hating how the words sounded like begging even to her own ears.
Chen Weilong crouched beside her, his voice dropping to a mock whisper. "You know what I heard? Elder Wu said you have spiritual roots so weak they barely register on the testing stone. The sect only keeps you around for menial labor. Face reality you'll never advance beyond Qi Refinement."
They left her there with their laughter echoing off the stone walls. Li Xiuying's knuckles had gone white around the bowl, but she didn't speak until their footsteps faded completely.
"Bastards," she whispered to the empty courtyard.
The worst part was knowing they were probably right. Three years of meditation, breathing exercises, and spiritual herb gathering had yielded nothing. While others absorbed spiritual energy like starving plants drinking rain, she could barely sense the faintest wisps of qi floating around her. Every breakthrough attempt ended in failure, leaving her drained and humiliated.
But tonight would be different. It had to be.
After completing her chores, Li Xiuying slipped away to her secret cultivation spot—a small cave hidden behind a waterfall in the sect's outer territories. She'd discovered it during her first year, and it had become her refuge from the constant mockery and judgment.
Settling into lotus position on the smooth stone floor, she began the breathing technique Elder Wu had taught the outer disciples. In through the nose, hold for seven counts, out through the mouth. Feel for the spiritual energy in the air. Draw it into the dantian. Circulate it through the meridians.
For an hour, she followed the familiar pattern. Sweat beaded on her forehead from the mental strain. Her muscles ached from maintaining perfect posture. And yet, as always, the spiritual energy remained just out of reach like trying to grasp smoke with bare hands.
"Why won't it work?" she gasped, opening her eyes in frustration. "What's wrong with me?"
The cave offered no answers, only the steady drip of water and her own ragged breathing. Li Xiuying slammed her fist against the stone floor, welcoming the sharp pain that shot up her arm. At least physical pain was real, honest. Not like the ethereal promises of cultivation that always slipped away.
As she nursed her bruised knuckles, something caught her eye. Her strike had loosened a section of the cave wall, revealing a gap behind the stones. Curious despite her mood, she pried at the loose rocks until they tumbled away.
Hidden in the small alcove was a scroll, its silk covering yellowed with age but somehow untouched by moisture. Strange symbols covered its surface not the familiar characters of the sect's cultivation manuals, but something far older. The moment her fingers brushed the ancient silk, a chill ran up her arm.
Li Xiuying unrolled the scroll carefully, squinting at the archaic text. Most of it was illegible, but certain phrases seemed to burn themselves into her mind: "The Eternal Cycle... death and rebirth... forbidden by the heavens..."
And then, at the bottom, written in more recent ink: "The Dao of Reincarnation. To those who dare walk the path of infinite lives—beware. Each death brings power, but power always demands payment."
Her heart hammered against her ribs. The Dao of Reincarnation? She'd never heard of such a cultivation path. Why would it be hidden here, marked as forbidden? And yet, as she stared at the strange symbols, they seemed to shift and dance before her eyes, forming new meanings, new possibilities.
Before rational thought could stop her, Li Xiuying pressed her thumb to the scroll and whispered the words that seemed to echo from somewhere deep in her soul: "I accept the path of infinite deaths."
The scroll erupted with blinding light.
Pain lanced through her skull as something vast and alien crashed into her consciousness. The cave disappeared. The waterfall's roar faded. Her body felt like it was dissolving, scattered across time and space like dust in a cosmic wind.
And then, impossibly, she was somewhere else entirely—standing in the body of a woman she'd never been, holding a bloodied sword in a battlefield she'd never seen, with memories that weren't her own flooding her mind like a tsunami.
The reincarnation trial had begun.