When Master Ji Lianyu's words fell, Jin felt as though the floor beneath him shifted. The Supreme Art of Samadhi Fire… nearly a thousand years without a single successful practitioner?
The weight of the revelation pressed upon him like a mountain. If no one had managed to cultivate this technique for centuries, what chance did he have? His foundation was shallow, his background unimpressive, and the meridians within his body still bore the scars of old wounds.
And yet, within the grand hall of the Soul-Suppressing Alliance, with dozens of keen eyes fastened upon him, he could not retreat. To shrink back now, to beg for an easier method, would brand him as cowardly, unworthy of the opportunity he had been granted. Among cultivators, reputation was often as vital as one's very life.
So Jin forced down his hesitation, clasped his hands, and bowed deeply.
"Many thanks to the Alliance Master. I shall accept this inheritance."
Ji Lianyu gave a single decisive nod. His voice resounded like a gavel striking stone:
"Then it is settled. The supreme inheritance of the Flame-Arrow Sect, the Samadhi Fire, shall be bestowed upon you—as a reward for your courage, and as acknowledgment of your merit."
A ripple of murmurs stirred through the ranks of elders and disciples. Some carried envy, others pity. Everyone present knew that the Samadhi Fire was both a gift and a curse. To cultivate it was to walk a path of fire that could burn one's soul to ash.
Jin felt their gazes pressing against his back, like invisible hands trying to pin him in place. He suppressed a bitter smile. A scorching burden indeed. If I cannot wield it, it will consume me.
---
Ji Lianyu's eyes shifted to another figure. His tone hardened.
"Lingyue."
The young woman stood and bowed. "Father."
"You acted with arrogance and recklessness, disregarding discipline, and injured your fellow disciple despite repeated admonishment. Do you acknowledge your fault?"
"I do," Lingyue replied calmly, her face betraying no fear.
Ji Lianyu's gaze turned to the west side of the hall.
"Lawmaster Lü Yan."
A tall, gaunt Daoist rose, his presence sharp as a blade. Jin recognized him—the very same who had overseen the recruitment in Yunyang City.
"At your command, Alliance Master."
"You preside over the Tribunal of Discipline. How should one such as Lingyue be punished?"
Lü Yan's expression flickered briefly as he considered. His eyes lingered on Lingyue for a moment before he answered in measured tones:
"Her actions were indeed improper. Yet the circumstances bear consideration. I would suggest a light punishment—one month of secluded reflection."
Ji Lianyu's brows drew together. His voice was cold iron.
"One month is far too light. A hundred days of seclusion. Let this serve as a warning."
"Yes, Alliance Master." Lingyue accepted the sentence with a steady voice.
Jin's heart clenched. She showed no complaint, but he could feel the storm beneath her calm exterior.
---
Ji Lianyu lifted his hand dismissively.
"Let the assembly be dismissed. Remain, boy."
The command was simple, yet the effect immediate. Elders and disciples alike rose to their feet, bowed, and began to withdraw from the great hall.
Jin stepped aside toward the grand doors, bowing his head as others passed. He tried to make himself small, but many stopped to speak.
The venerable masters murmured words of praise, some giving approving nods. Jin fumbled with awkward replies, feeling their expectations press against his skin like a weight.
The younger generation was far more effusive. A number of them, once suspicious and hostile, now approached him with sudden warmth. The very men who had whispered slander earlier now spoke as though they had been friends for years. To them, Jin's refusal to leverage Lingyue's affections for his own gain proved his integrity. Some even clapped him on the shoulder, grinning, their words laced with admiration.
Jin endured it with polite restraint, answering briefly, but his eyes strayed toward Lingyue.
She had already left. She passed him without a glance, her expression a mask of calm detachment. No pause, no word, no acknowledgment.
The rejection cut deeper than any blade. He knew why. She had risked everything for him—revealed her heart, stood with sword drawn against her own peers. And he, in his silence, had given her nothing in return. In the eyes of the Alliance, her dignity had been tarnished.
Now she walked away from him as though he were a stranger.
Jin lowered his head. I have wounded her pride. Perhaps more than that.
---
When the hall had finally emptied, Ji Lianyu returned to the master's seat and gestured toward Jin.
"Come closer."
Jin approached the dais but remained standing.
"Sit," Ji Lianyu said, pointing toward a chair.
"This seat is for elders. I dare not presume," Jin replied.
"You are wounded. Sit," the Alliance Master repeated, his tone softer but no less commanding.
Jin hesitated, then inclined his head. At a subtle wave of Ji Lianyu's sleeve, a chair slid from the side of the hall as though moved by invisible hands. Jin sat, back straight and wary, like a soldier awaiting judgment.
"Tell me," Ji Lianyu began, "why did you not consume the healing pill I bestowed?"
Jin withdrew the glittering pellet from his robes, setting it carefully upon the table between them.
"Such medicine is precious. Many within the Alliance need it far more than I. My wounds will heal with time."
Ji Lianyu's voice sharpened.
"What this old man gives, none may return. Do you mean to shame me?"
The weight of his authority pressed upon Jin like thunder. The young man swallowed, bowed, and reclaimed the pill.
"Good. Now tell me—how did you first meet Lingyue?"
Jin hesitated. "Surely she has already told you—"
"She has. I wish to hear it from your own mouth."
There was no evading such a tone. Jin recounted everything, from the ambush in the wilderness to the desperate battles with the revenants. Ji Lianyu interrupted often, probing into minute details, his sharp eyes watching for any tremor in Jin's voice.
When the tale was done, silence hung in the hall. At last, Ji Lianyu asked, "Did you encounter anyone unusual along the way?"
Jin frowned, caught off guard. "No. We avoided the main roads to nurse our injuries. We met no one."
"And those corpses that followed you? Why did they protect you instead of attacking?"
Jin stiffened. "They did not protect me. They merely… did not bite me."
"Why?"
"I do not know," Jin admitted, his voice low. "I have wondered the same."
Ji Lianyu studied him for a long moment, then smiled faintly.
Jin's pulse quickened. He realized then—someone had spoken of it. Feng Tianyu. Of course. A convenient slander, one that painted Jin as tainted by evil.
"Alliance Master," Jin said firmly, "I aided your daughter without thought of reward. Once I can walk freely, I shall depart."
"You mistake me," Ji Lianyu replied gently. "I do not doubt your sincerity. I only seek to know the truth of what occurred. Lingyue has spoken on your behalf, and I trust her word. Moreover, your kin—your uncle and his party—are five hundred li away. They will arrive within days. You may as well remain here until then."
Jin's heart wavered. He had intended to leave, to slip away quietly. But Ji Lianyu's words carried a quiet gravity.
"And consider this," the Alliance Master continued. "The Samadhi Fire is no ordinary technique. It refines the very soul, granting rebirth if mastered. But it is coveted by every crooked path and hidden sect. Alone, you would not last long. If you wish, you may join the Flame-Arrow Sect formally. If not, you may take up a minor office within the Alliance, and remain here under its protection."
Jin bowed his head. His resolve to leave faltered. Perhaps… perhaps staying would not be weakness.
"Very well," he said at last. "I dare not sully the Flame-Arrow Sect with shallow roots. Let me take up humble work instead. I will earn my meals honestly."
"Then so be it," Ji Lianyu said with a smile. "When your wounds mend, report to the Office of Affairs. They will grant you a steward's duty."
He rose, and from within his sleeve withdrew a scroll of pale silk. He held it out.
"This is my personal transcription of the Samadhi Fire. Study it well. Guard it with your life. And remember—pass it to none."
Jin accepted the scroll with both hands, feeling its weight far heavier than silk should allow.
Ji Lianyu's eyes grew distant. "Know this: I offer no guidance. For decades I myself have sought to comprehend this art, yet gained nothing. Were I to instruct you blindly, I might lead you astray. Tread carefully, with patience, lest fire consume you from within."
Jin bowed low. "Your kindness is beyond measure. I shall remember."
As he rose, a chill realization stole into his heart.
The Samadhi Fire was not a gift. It was a blade of burning iron pressed into his hands. A treasure to some, a curse to others. And to him… a burden too hot to hold.
A scorching burden indeed.