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Chapter 8 - Chapter 8 – Shadows of the Sect

The sect had grown tense. Days that once flowed with the dull routine of cultivation, chores, and

sparring now felt sharp-edged, every corner hiding watchful eyes. Jianyu sensed it as keenly as a blade

pressed to his throat. Wu Shifen's absence no longer lingered as rumor alone—it had fermented into a

quiet storm. Elders moved with increased frequency, their steps measured but heavy, their gazes

lingering on disciples with unspoken suspicion. Conversations that once carried the laughter of youth

had b...

For Jianyu, every breath became an act of discipline. He woke each morning before dawn, donned the

plain robes of an outer disciple, and joined the line of mediocrity. His hands, though steady with hidden

strength, carried buckets of water that sloshed clumsily, as though too heavy for his frail frame. During

drills, he swung his sword without vigor, his blade too slow, his footing too uneven. Other disciples

jeered, their contempt an old and familiar cloak. To them, he remained the same Jianyu, the ...

But beneath that fragile mask, a tempest brewed. His qi pulsed with vigor, strengthened by his recent

breakthrough. His body carried the vitality of someone who had torn down one wall and stepped firmly

into the second stage of Qi Refining. Every night, he slipped into the forest, devouring beast cores,

refining ambient qi, pushing his Heaven Devouring Art to the limits of its hunger. He knew better than to

grow complacent. The sect was restless, and danger pressed closer with each passing day.

The first signs of tightening control came when Elder Ming announced mandatory training sessions for

outer disciples. No longer were they left to drift in self-paced mediocrity. Instead, they were gathered on

the practice fields, rows upon rows of young cultivators lined under the morning sun as elders

observed. Blades flashed, qi circulated, bodies strained against wooden dummies. Elders with sharp

eyes moved among them, watching, judging, whispering among themselves.

For Jianyu, it was a battlefield of subtlety. He could not lag too far behind, lest he draw suspicion as

someone who was deliberately underperforming. Yet he could not excel, for excellence was an

invitation for scrutiny. He walked the razor's edge, presenting himself as mediocre, yet not dangerously

so. When ordered to demonstrate a basic qi circulation technique, he stumbled midway, coughing as

though blocked. The elder supervising frowned but moved on, dismissing him as just another

unremarkable dis...

Whispers circulated swiftly after each session. Disciples who once ignored the elders' presence now

worried about every misstep. "They're searching for something," one muttered. "Or someone," another

replied. Jianyu kept his silence, but his thoughts churned. He had buried Wu Shifen deep, erased all

obvious traces, yet suspicion was a poison that spread even without evidence. All it took was one gaze

too sharp, one slip too obvious, and his disguise could unravel.

The pressure mounted when missions were assigned. Disciples were sent out in groups rather than

alone, an unusual move for the sect. Elder Ming explained it as a precaution, but Jianyu saw the truth:

they wanted eyes on one another. Trust was fraying, and the sect was weaving a net to catch what

could not be seen.

Jianyu's group was sent into the outskirts of the forest to gather spirit herbs. A simple task, yet made

heavy by the presence of two inner disciples assigned to supervise. Their gazes lingered on every

movement, their questions casual yet prying. Jianyu kept his head bowed, his words clipped and

humble. He let others take the lead in harvesting herbs, fumbling clumsily when he tried, drawing

ridicule but not suspicion.

Yet in the shadows of the forest, danger prowled. A low-ranked beast, a horned boar, burst from the

underbrush, its eyes glowing with feral hunger. The group scattered in panic, blades flashing as

disciples shouted. Jianyu gripped his sword, heart hammering. The beast was nothing to him now; with

his strength, he could have crushed it swiftly. But too swift a kill would unravel his facade.

So he stumbled back, letting another disciple intercept. The clash was messy, steel against tusk,

shouts echoing. The beast wounded one, goring his leg. Jianyu's instincts screamed to end it cleanly,

but he forced restraint. Only when the beast lunged toward him did he move, his blade trembling as

though out of fear, striking weakly at its side. The wound was shallow, barely slowing it. Another

disciple finished the job, panting heavily, glaring at Jianyu with disdain. "Useless," he spat. Jianyu

bowed h...

On the return, the inner disciples questioned them. "Why did you hesitate?" they asked Jianyu. He

lowered his head. "Fear, seniors. I could not control myself." His answer earned scorn, but not

suspicion. They dismissed him as worthless, their gazes already shifting to others. Jianyu endured the

humiliation, but within, he burned. Every insult was fuel, every dismissal a stone upon which he

sharpened his will.

Back at the sect, the investigation deepened. Jianyu heard whispers of elders interrogating disciples

about their whereabouts on the night of Wu Shifen's disappearance. Questions were asked about rival

sects, about hidden grudges, about treasures. Some disciples returned from such questioning pale and

shaken, muttering of elders who stared too long, who seemed to pierce into their very souls. Jianyu was

summoned too, seated before Elder Ming himself.

"Jianyu," the elder said, his voice deceptively calm. "You were assigned to the same mission as Wu

Shifen, were you not?"

"Yes, Elder," Jianyu replied, his tone humble, eyes lowered.

"Tell me what you saw."

Jianyu spoke carefully. "We hunted beasts. I struggled to keep up. Wu Shifen moved far ahead. When I

tried to follow, I lost sight of him. I thought he returned before me. I… I did not see him again." His

words carried hesitation, just enough to match the image of a cowardly outer disciple.

Elder Ming studied him for a long moment, silence stretching heavy. Jianyu forced his breath calm, his

pulse steady. At last, the elder waved him away. "Go. Cultivate harder, if you can." Jianyu bowed low

and retreated, the weight of that gaze still pressing on his back.

Nights grew more dangerous. Jianyu no longer trained openly in the same places. He shifted from

grove to grove, wary of being tracked. The Heaven Devouring Art continued its endless hunger, pulling

in qi from beast cores and the world itself. He felt himself inching closer to the third stage, but restraint

was vital. Too swift a rise, and even the blind would notice.

One evening, while skulking through the shadows of the outer courtyard, Jianyu overheard two inner

disciples speaking. "Elder Ming is convinced Wu Shifen found something before he disappeared," one

said. "A treasure, perhaps."

The other nodded grimly. "If that's true, whoever has it will not remain hidden forever. Treasures reveal

themselves—through power, through arrogance, through fate."

Jianyu clenched his fists in the dark. They were right, in a way. Power left traces, even if one tried to

bury it. His only hope was to walk the line so finely that no one could grasp his secret until it was too

late.

The following days brought an announcement that made Jianyu's blood run cold. A sect-wide trial was

to be held, testing outer disciples on their progress. The elders claimed it was to encourage diligence,

but Jianyu understood its true purpose: to force hidden talents into the open, to see who had grown too

quickly, who might hold answers to Wu Shifen's fate.

Standing among the gathered disciples in the main square, Jianyu kept his face blank, but inside, his

mind raced. A trial meant demonstration. A trial meant exposure. He could not afford to shine, yet he

could not afford to fail too miserably either. The blade's edge grew sharper, the storm closer.

As Elder Ming's voice carried across the crowd, Jianyu whispered within his heart, "So be it. If this is the

path, I will tread it. Let suspicion deepen, let trials test me. I will endure. I will devour. And still, I will

rise."

The sect's eyes turned upon its disciples, and in the shadows of their scrutiny, Jianyu prepared for the

next step in his climb against the heavens.

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