The Green Maple Realm was a tranquil, mid-tier world, one of thousands of similar realms that dotted the cosmos. Its spiritual energy was gentle and abundant, giving rise to vast, ancient forests of maple trees whose leaves shifted from a vibrant jade green to a fiery crimson with the passing of the seasons. Nestled in the heart of the realm's most majestic mountain range was the Thousand Sky Sect, a respectable power that had stood for over twenty thousand years.
Its current Sect Master, Li Qingyun, was a man who embodied the sect's spirit: stable, dignified, and cautious. He was a cultivator at the peak of the Void Amalgamation realm, a true powerhouse just one step away from facing his Dao Tribulation. His greatest pride was his ancestor, Li Tian, a legendary figure who had supposedly ascended to the upper realms after serving as a captain in the army of a great Heavenly Emperor during the Primordial War. It was a story passed down through generations, a source of immense pride and a goal that seemed impossibly distant.
On this day, Li Qingyun was in his private study, reviewing the sect's budget, when the world outside his window went silent. The chirping of spirit birds, the rustle of the wind through the maple leaves, the distant shouts of disciples training in the courtyards—it all vanished, replaced by a silence so profound it felt as if reality itself was holding its breath.
A figure appeared in the center of his study, not through a door or a portal, but by simply... being there. It was a woman of impossible beauty and grace, dressed in azure armor that seemed to be forged from the heart of a dragon. Her aura was suppressed, yet the sheer, ancient nobility of her presence made Li Qingyun, a peak Void Amalgamation expert, feel like a mortal in the presence of a god. He felt his soul, his very bloodline, tremble in a primal, instinctual submission.
It was Long Jing.
"Sect Master Li Qingyun," she stated, her voice calm and devoid of emotion, yet it echoed with the authority of a divine decree. "I am Long Jing. I come with a message from my Young Lord, Ao Xian."
Li Qingyun's mind went blank. The name 'Ao' was a sacred, almost forgotten character in his family's oldest, most secret records. It was the surname of the Heavenly Emperor his ancestor had served.
"My Young Lord has grown weary of the grand affairs of the heavens," Long Jing continued, her placid gaze seeming to pierce through Li Qingyun's very soul. "He has decided to experience the life of a mortal cultivator for a time. He finds your Thousand Sky Sect... acceptable. He will be joining as an inner sect disciple."
Li Qingyun felt his knees go weak. The heir of the legendary Heavenly Emperor, the supreme commander his ancestor had served, was coming to his humble, mid-tier sect? This was not a blessing; it was a terrifying, world-shattering honor. A single misstep, a single moment of disrespect, could result in his entire sect, his entire realm, being erased from existence.
"Of course! Of course!" he stammered, bowing so low his head nearly touched the floor. "The Thousand Sky Sect is honored! We are eternally grateful for the Young Lord's patronage! We will prepare the grandest welcoming ceremony! The entire sect will..."
"You will do nothing of the sort," Long Jing interrupted, her tone flat. "The Young Lord's identity is to remain an absolute secret. He is to be known only as Ao Xian, the heir of a distant, wealthy family who has used their connections—your family's ancient debt—to secure him a place in the inner sect. He has no talent for cultivation, and his entry is a pure backdoor transaction. That will be the official story."
Li Qingyun was stunned into silence. He was being asked to publicly announce that his sect was accepting a wastrel, a rich young master who had bought his way in? It was a blow to the sect's prestige. But he understood instantly. The Young Lord wanted a role to play.
"His cultivation will appear to be at the Golden Core realm," Long Jing continued. "You will not question it. You will provide him with the best, most secluded mountain peak, 'Jade Dew Peak.' You will ensure he is given the resources of a core disciple, but you will otherwise leave him to his own devices. He will not attend the mandatory lectures. He will not participate in the standard sect missions unless he chooses to. His attendants," she paused, "will be his four personal maids. They will reside with him on his peak. You will not question their presence, and you will instruct your elders and disciples to not disturb them. Is that understood?"
"Perfectly! Perfectly understood!" Li Qingyun said, his back still bowed, sweat beading on his forehead.
"Good," Long Jing said. "He will arrive in three days." With that, she vanished as silently as she had appeared.
The world outside the window returned to normal. The birds chirped, the wind rustled, but for Li Qingyun, the world had been turned upside down. He collapsed into his chair, his heart pounding a frantic rhythm against his ribs. The greatest opportunity and the greatest terror in his sect's history had just arrived, and he was the man who had to manage it.
Just as he was about to call for his elders, the air in his study grew cold, and an ancient, powerful presence manifested before him. A semi-transparent, ethereal figure of an old man in archaic battle armor appeared, his face a mirror of Li Qingyun's, but weathered by eons of war and time.
"Ancestor Li Tian!" Li Qingyun gasped, falling from his chair and kowtowing in genuine reverence.
"I felt the presence of the Dragon Clan," the ancestor's voice was a low, powerful rumble, filled with the weight of ages. "And I heard the name of the Young Lord. Tell me everything."
Trembling, Li Qingyun recounted the entire conversation. When he was finished, the ancestor was silent for a long moment.
"You have no idea of the magnitude of the being who is about to grace your sect," Li Tian finally said, his voice a mixture of awe and terror. "The Heavenly Emperor I served is a being who commands the very laws of the cosmos. His son is an existence of even greater importance. The fact that he has chosen your humble sect for his... 'game'... is a fortune so great it could shatter the heavens, or a calamity that could erase this entire realm from existence."
The ancestor's ethereal form seemed to solidify with a grim resolve. "You will do exactly as the dragon commanded. I will remain in a state of semi-awakening in the ancestral hall. I will act as a hidden guardian for the duration of the Young Lord's stay. If any elder or disciple 'without eyes' dares to truly offend him, I will personally erase them and their entire bloodline from the sect before they can bring ruin upon us all. Do not screw this up, Qingyun. The fate of ten thousand generations of the Li family rests on your shoulders."
With that final, chilling warning, the ancestor's form faded, leaving a terrified Li Qingyun alone in his study.
Three days later, a magnificent carriage, carved from pure, spirit-infused jade and pulled by six 'Cloud-Treading Stallions'—rare, Foundation Establishment-level spiritual beasts—descended from the sky and landed gracefully before the main gate of the Thousand Sky Sect. The arrival was ostentatious, a clear display of wealth, but not so powerful as to be truly shocking.
The disciples, both inner and outer, who had been gathered by a nervous Sect Master Li, watched with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. The rumors had already spread like wildfire: a rich young master, a backdoor disciple, had bought his way into the inner sect.
The carriage door opened, and Ao Xian stepped out. He was dressed in the fine, silken robes of a wealthy heir, a folding fan in his hand, his handsome face holding an expression of arrogant boredom. His cultivation pulsed at the peak of the Golden Core realm—a respectable level for his apparent age, but nothing compared to the true geniuses of the sect. Following him out of the carriage were his four maids, their beauty so breathtaking that it caused a collective gasp to ripple through the crowd of disciples.
Sect Master Li stepped forward, his face a mask of practiced, formal respect. "Welcome, Young Master Ao, to the Thousand Sky Sect. I trust your journey was pleasant."
"It was adequate," Ao Xian replied, his tone dismissive as he fanned himself. "So this is the place. It's... smaller than I expected."
The disciples in the crowd bristled at the insult. In the front rank of the inner disciples stood a young man with a proud, unyielding expression. He was tall, with sharp, sword-like eyebrows and a powerful aura that marked him as a half-step into the Nascent Soul realm. This was Zhang Tian, the sect's number one genius, a man who had reached his current level through pure talent and grueling hard work. He looked at Ao Xian, at his fine robes, his beautiful maids, and his arrogant demeanor, and his eyes filled with a cold, contemptuous light.
"So this is the 'heir' who bought his way into our sect," he muttered to the disciples beside him. "He has the cultivation of a commoner and the arrogance of an emperor. He is a disgrace to the inner sect."
Ao Xian, of course, heard him perfectly. A slow, amused smile touched his lips. A classic, hardworking, arrogant protagonist. This was going to be fun.
"Jade Dew Peak has been prepared for you, Young Master Ao," Li Qingyun said, ignoring the whispers. "Please, follow me."
As Ao Xian and his maids were led away towards the most luxurious and spiritually rich peak in the entire inner sect, the disciples were left to stare, their hearts filled with a mixture of jealousy, disdain, and, for the young male disciples, a profound envy.
The game had changed. The board was new. And Ao Xian, the celestial director, had just made his grand entrance as the most hated, most privileged, and most underestimated disciple in the history of the Thousand Sky Sect.