Elder Yun was one of the revered masters of the Heaven Summit. Though he had known that Xauyan's cultivation was rooted not in the heavenly path, but in demonic arts, he never confronted him about it. Elder Yun was not one to discriminate between cultivators—so long as they did not bring chaos to the mortal realm.
Elder Yun himself was no stranger to hardship. He was born into the Yun family—a respected mortal lineage. His father was a simple man, a humble farmer, while his mother was a demonic cultivator who had fallen in love with a mortal. From birth, Elder Yun's existence was stained by whispers and scorn. He was called the "Demonic Son" by his peers and pushed away from many cultivation sects.
But he never gave up.
With sacrifice, discipline, and unwavering will, he carved his own path toward the heavens. He knew too well the sting of being judged before being understood. That was why, when he looked at Xauyan, he saw a reflection of his younger self—lost, misunderstood, yet burning with quiet fury.
And so, Elder Yun did not reject him. He invited Xauyan into his courtyard and asked, calmly:
"What brings you here, Xauyan?"
Xauyan lowered his gaze. "To learn the way of Heaven," he replied.
But it was a lie.
Deep down, Xauyan harbored hatred toward heavenly cultivators. He believed them all hypocrites—righteous in words, but cruel in action. He had seen what the 'righteous' could do. He only sought the Heaven Summit because he needed strength, and Ancient Rock, an artifact said to unlock true power.
Elder Yun, however, was not so easily fooled.
"If you want to learn the way of Heaven," he said gently, "then answer me this:
What must a cultivator truly have… when they cultivate?"
The question struck deeper than Xauyan expected. For a moment, the room faded. He was no longer standing before a revered elder, but lost in a memory.
He remembered Lian.
The one person who had believed in him. When he was nothing but an orphan scraping for food in the slums, it was Lian who reached out her hand. When the world mocked him, she stood by him. In her presence, he was someone worthy of love.
He spoke, not realizing his own lips were moving:
"When someone is hopeless… they need to know they're not alone.
To love… and to protect. That's what cultivation should mean."
Elder Yun smiled faintly. He had not expected such honesty—not from someone like Xauyan. He called out:
"Xauyan."
No answer.
"Xauyan."
Still silent.
"Xauyan!"
Finally, Xauyan blinked, pulled back from his memories. Elder Yun looked into his eyes and saw it clearly—the pain, the burden, the grief.
And the fire.
He nodded. "From today onward… you will be my disciple."
Xauyan bowed. His teeth clenched, heart heavy. He was not ready—not emotionally, not spiritually—but he had no choice. The Ancient Rock was somewhere in the Heaven Summit, and this was the only path forward.
"Thank you… Master," he said, the words bitter in his throat.
But Elder Yun said nothing more. He had planted a seed. Now, all that remained was to see whether light… or darkness would help it grow.
Just before the Heaven Summit, news spread:
Elder Yun had departed on official duty to the Jade Sky Immortal Pavilion.
Without his protection, Xauyan's status as a direct disciple was stripped.
At the Heaven Summit, all disciples were to assemble at dawn. They stood in lines according to their cultivation levels.
Xauyan stood among the beginner cultivators—those just stepping onto the path of cultivation. Above them, in elevated ranks, stood the elders and advanced disciples.
As he waited, Xauyan suddenly noticed Ruyin. For a moment, he forgot everything else. They had entered the sect together, but somehow she had advanced so quickly. He felt both joy and confusion.
"How did she pass the exam?" he wondered. "Could she have been hiding her true strength all along?"
Still, seeing her face brought him a kind of peace.
There, he saw Senior Tiansheng. The elder's piercing eyes were fixed directly on him.
"I don't have time for this..." Xauyan muttered under his breath, unease creeping into his chest.
At the assembly, an elder announced:
"Xauyan will now train under Senior Tiansheng until Elder Yun returns."
As Tiansheng walked past, he smiled thinly.
"Looks like you're under me now."
"I never agreed to that," Xauyan replied.
"Doesn't matter," Tiansheng said. "You don't get to choose."
Another elder's voice rang out across the assembly:
"Beginner cultivators, today you will receive instruction from one of our senior elders."
The crowd stirred.
"To guide the first cultivation group," the elder continued, "we have Senior Tiansheng."
The elder gave no further explanation. With a nod, elder turned and left the training grounds, his robes vanishing into the morning mist.
As soon as elder was gone
Senior Tiansheng stood before the gathered beginners, his voice calm but commanding.
"Today, you will learn how to control the sword using your own qi," he said.
"Not just to wield it with your hands, but to move it with your mind and energy—an extension of yourself."
He raised a hand, and his sword floated beside him, perfectly still in the air.
"Your qi must flow from within, into the sword. You must guide it—not with brute force, but with intent."
As the lesson began, Xauyan sat cross-legged like the others, focusing intently. He channeled his qi inward, letting it circulate through his meridians, just as he'd been taught. Beads of sweat formed on his brow. He raised his hand toward the sword on the ground in front of him—but it did not move.
Senior Tiansheng approached. His presence alone made the air feel heavier.
"You," he said, stopping before Xauyan. "Show me what you can do."
Xauyan didn't speak. He simply concentrated harder, pushing his qi, trying to connect with the sword. Still, nothing.
Tiansheng scoffed. "Just as I thought," he said with a cold smile. "Weak talent, weak will." Without another word, he turned and walked away.
I said nothing. I didn't need to.
I stayed behind when the others rested. My body ached, my qi was unstable—but I kept trying.
And then… something shifted.
The sword trembled.
In that moment, I understood.
To control qi, you cannot be distracted. But more importantly, focus is not about staring at something—it's about perceiving without attachment. I could see the sword, but I had to stop grasping at it. I had to let go.
Only then did the qi begin to form naturally—like water flowing down a mountain path.
As soon as I found that stillness, the sword rose gently into the air.
It flew.
Tiansheng stood at the edge of the platform, eyes narrowing as he watched from afar. His gaze lingered on Xauyan's sword as it hovered, in the air.
"How is he even lifting it?"
he thought, brows furrowing slightly.
"His qi… it's too weak. This must be a fluke."
Unable to let it go, he stepped forward, voice sharp and clear.
"Everyone," he called, drawing the attention of all the gathered disciples,
"observe closely. I'll show you how real sword control looks."
With a fluid motion, he raised his palm. His sword rose gracefully into the air, smooth and unwavering, dancing above him like it was alive.
The disciples gasped softly. Some murmured, impressed.
Tiansheng smirked. "See? This is the result of refined cultivation, not luck."
He let his gaze drift toward one person.
"Xauyan."
Xauyan looked up, silent.
Tiansheng's smirk widened. "Is there anyone here who thinks they can match this? Hm?" He paused. "How about you?"
Xauyan didn't respond.
Tiansheng asked. "You managed to lift a sword once and think you've touched the heavens?"
Still no reply.
Tiansheng's tone sharpened. "Come. Let's test that little spark of yours."
The crowd stirred, turning their attention to Xauyan.
Xauyan's fists clenched at his sides. He took a slow breath, eyes fixed on the ground. He didn't want this. But he couldn't ignore it either.
He stepped forward.
The circle widened as disciples made space. The tension in the air thickened.
Tiansheng chuckled. "Finally grew a spine, did you?"
Xauyan said quietly, "I just don't like person who think himself as superior."
"Oh?" Tiansheng raised a brow. "Then earn the right to be looked at."
Without warning, he drew his sword and sent it flying at Xauyan. The crowd gasped.
Xauyan raised his hand, and his sword jerked upward, barely in time to intercept. Steel clashed in midair with a sharp metallic cry.
The blow was powerful. Xauyan's sword trembled under the pressure, his arms shaking as he tried to hold control.
"Not bad—for someone with weak qi," Tiansheng mocked. "How long can you hold out?"
Xauyan gritted his teeth, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "Long enough… to shut you up."
Tiansheng laughed. "We'll see."
Xauyan focused harder, pushing his qi through his core. It was rough, not as smooth as the elder's—but it burned with purpose.
"I may not have your cultivation," he muttered under his breath, "but I have something you don't."
Tiansheng heard him. "Oh? And what's that? Blind confidence?"
"No." Xauyan's eyes flared with resolve. "A reason to fight."
The swords hovered in the air, locked for a moment. Qi flared between them Tiansheng's cold and refined, Xauyan's raw and burning.
Tiansheng's smile twisted into a sneer. "You should've stayed on the ground, Xauyan. You don't belong standing next to me."
Xauyan's sword shook violently. He could feel the strain in his body, the pressure of Tiansheng's overwhelming qi pressing down like a mountain.
But he didn't back down.
"I never asked to be next to you," Xauyan said through gritted teeth. "You think strength makes you superior. But I see the truth."
"Oh?" Tiansheng raised an eyebrow. "And what truth is that?"
"You're afraid."
The air fell silent for a beat.
Tiansheng's eyes narrowed. "Watch your mouth."
"You see someone weaker than you... and you attack first. You humiliate, challenge, and mock. But all that proves," Xauyan said, breathing hard but steady, "is that you're afraid of someone like me getting stronger."
A few disciples around the circle glanced at each other, surprised by Xauyan's words.
Tiansheng's voice dropped, cold and low. "You dare accuse me of fear?"
"I don't need to," Xauyan said. "Your actions speak louder than anything I could say."
With a surge of will, he centered his breath. The trembling in his sword began to steady. His qi, though not strong, flowed cleaner—guided by calm, not anger.
Tiansheng's expression twisted. "You think that's enough to stand in my way?"
"No," Xauyan said simply. "But it's enough to stand."
And with that, Xauyan's sword flashed—still trembling, but now moving forward, pushed not by force, but by determination.
Xauyan's qi flickered, his control faltering.
Tiansheng's sword surged forward, sharper and heavier with refined intent. In one final push, the senior cultivator sent Xauyan's sword spiraling out of the air. It struck the ground with a dull clang, skidding across the stone floor.
The circle of disciples gasped. A few flinched. The match was over.
Xauyan dropped to one knee, chest heaving. His limbs trembled, not from fear—but from giving everything he had.
Tiansheng stood tall, arms crossed, sword calmly returning to its sheath.
"I told you," he said, stepping forward, voice low so only Xauyan could hear, "that is your place."
He glanced down with a cold smile.
"The ground."
Xauyan looked up. His jaw tightened. For a moment, he said nothing.
But then—
"Brother Xauyan!" a voice rang out.
It was one of the junior disciples. A younger boy from the beginner ranks ran up, eyes shining with concern and awe. "That was amazing! You held your ground against a senior like that!"
"Yeah," another voice joined. "We saw how you blocked the first strike—that was real sword qi, wasn't it?"
Xauyan blinked, surprised. He hadn't even noticed the others watching so closely.
Tiansheng turned slightly, irritation flickering across his face.
Xauyan slowly stood, brushing the dirt from his robe. He picked up his sword with quiet dignity.
"I lost," he said simply.
"Maybe," the junior said, "but you fought like someone we want to follow."
Xauyan smiled faintly and looked toward Tiansheng.
Tianshe
ng's smile faded.
He turned and walked away—not in shame, but in resolve. Behind him, the younger disciples followed, some in silence, some whispering about what they had just witnessed.
Tiansheng remained still, watching the boy he tried to crush walk off taller than before.