The lightning tribulation had left Li Wei scorched and exhilarated, his singed hair and tingling skin a testament to his survival. The warmth in his dantian pulsed with a new intensity, as if the storm's energy had fused with his qi, pushing him closer to the elusive Foundation Establishment. The scroll, now slightly frayed but still his guiding star, spoke of "sacred grounds" where cultivators could deepen their connection to the Dao. Mount Tai, with its ancient spiritual aura, had served him well, but Li Wei felt a restless urge to explore further, to find a place where the veil between mortal and immortal was thinner still. The betrayal of Wang Hao and the physical toll of his trials only strengthened his resolve—he needed a sanctuary, a hidden realm to anchor his cultivation.
The morning after the storm, Li Wei packed his meager belongings: the scroll, the jade slip, his tattered notebook, and the last of the "Spirit Root Herbs," their silvery leaves now wilted but still sacred in his eyes. His body ached, the burns from the lightning tender, but the warmth in his core urged him onward. The scroll hinted at "valleys of eternal mist" where qi flowed like rivers, and Li Wei, inspired by tales of hidden grottos in cultivation lore, decided to search Mount Tai's uncharted slopes. He left his familiar clearing, its stone altar a silent witness to his progress, and ventured deeper into the mountain's wild heart.
The terrain grew rugged, the trails fading into tangled underbrush and rocky crags. Li Wei navigated by instinct, his senses sharpened by months of meditation. The forest was alive with whispers—the rustle of leaves, the distant call of a hawk, the trickle of unseen streams. He imagined these as signs, the mountain guiding him to its secrets. Hours passed, his legs burning from the climb, his stomach protesting the lack of food. He nibbled a bitter berry, ignoring the faint nausea it brought, and pressed on, driven by the scroll's promise of a sacred place.
As the sun dipped low, casting golden rays through the pines, Li Wei stumbled upon a narrow crevice between two towering cliffs. Mist curled from its depths, glowing faintly in the twilight, and a cool breeze carried the scent of moss and something sweeter, almost ethereal. His heart raced—this was no ordinary valley. The scroll described such places as "conduits of heaven's breath," where qi pooled like water in a basin. He squeezed through the crevice, his backpack scraping against the rocks, and emerged into a hidden valley that took his breath away.
The valley was a world apart, a bowl-shaped hollow cradled by sheer cliffs draped in vines. A small waterfall cascaded into a crystal-clear pool, its surface shimmering with refracted light. Ferns and wildflowers carpeted the ground, their colors unnaturally vibrant, as if infused with life beyond the mortal realm. At the center stood a massive, ancient tree, its gnarled roots twisting like dragons, its branches heavy with blossoms that glowed faintly in the fading light. Li Wei's skin prickled, the warmth in his dantian surging as if responding to the valley's energy. This was the sacred ground he'd sought—a place where the Dao itself seemed to breathe.
He set up camp near the pool, using rocks to form a new altar, grander than the one in his old clearing. He placed the scroll and jade slip at its center, arranging the wilted herbs in a protective circle. The valley felt alive, its air humming with a subtle vibration that made his meditations deeper, his qi more vivid. He sat cross-legged by the altar, chanting the scroll's incantations, and felt the warmth in his core expand, weaving through his meridians like threads of light. In the silence, he swore he heard whispers—not the mocking voices of his inner demon, but soft, ancient murmurs, like the echoes of long-gone cultivators guiding him.
Li Wei spent days in the valley, losing track of time. He meditated beneath the ancient tree, its blossoms falling like stars around him. He drank from the pool, its water sweet and invigorating, convinced it was infused with spiritual essence. His notebook filled with entries: "Hidden Valley found. Qi flows like a river. Whispers of immortals guide me." He shared photos with the Order of the Jade Dawn during a rare trip to the village for Wi-Fi, earning awed responses from Zhang Wei and Liu Mei. "It's a spirit realm!" Zhang Wei typed, while Liu Mei urged caution: "Such places are powerful but dangerous. Respect its energy."
One night, as he meditated under the tree, a vision gripped him. He saw himself floating above the valley, his body radiant with qi, the tree's blossoms swirling around him like a celestial dance. The whispers grew clearer, chanting words from the scroll: "Harmonize with the Dao, and the heavens shall open." He awoke with a start, his heart pounding, the jade slip warm in his hands. Was this the valley's gift, a glimpse of ascension? Or was it another delusion, born of hunger and isolation? Li Wei chose belief, as always.
He scribbled in his notebook: "Valley is my new sanctuary. Qi purified, visions granted. Path to immortality lies here." The valley's mist curled around him, the tree's blossoms glowing in the moonlight. Li Wei felt closer to the heavens than ever, but a small part of him wondered if the valley's beauty was blinding him to its dangers. The scroll warned of trials in sacred places, and Li Wei, with his sect's support and his unyielding faith, prepared to face whatever lay ahead in this hidden realm.