Morning in Qinghe City arrived without ceremony.
Stalls opened. Disputes resumed. Cultivators flowed through the streets as if yesterday's rejections had never happened. For most people, failure was something to be swallowed quietly and forgotten as quickly as possible.
For some, it lingered.
The boy Shen Yuan had noticed stood near the city's outer well, sleeves rolled up, hauling buckets of water for a merchant in exchange for a few copper coins. His movements were steady, his expression blank—not resentful, not hopeful.
Just… controlled.
He didn't leave the city, Shen Yuan observed from across the street.And he didn't beg.
That alone eliminated half of the candidates Shen Yuan would never consider.
The boy's name, Shen Yuan learned later, was Lin Qiu.
No clan.No sect.No outstanding reputation.
He had been rejected three times.
And yet—he still cultivated.
Not publicly. Not efficiently. But every night, after work, Lin Qiu sat in the corner of his rented room and circulated Qi the only way he knew how: slowly, painfully, and incorrectly.
Shen Yuan watched.
He did not intervene.
Three days passed.
On the fourth, Shen Yuan followed Lin Qiu out of the city.
Not secretly.
Just… quietly.
Lin Qiu carried a small basket, heading toward a low hill where wild spirit grass grew. The grass was low-grade, barely useful, but it sold cheaply to alchemists who didn't care about quality.
Halfway up the hill, Lin Qiu stopped.
He looked around, eyes narrowing.
"I know someone's there," he said, voice steady despite the tension in his shoulders. "You can come out."
Shen Yuan stepped into view.
He did not hide his presence.
Lin Qiu stared.
Shen Yuan was calm, unarmed, and completely unthreatening at a glance—which somehow made him more unsettling.
"…Senior?" Lin Qiu asked cautiously.
Shen Yuan nodded once.
"Sit," he said.
Lin Qiu hesitated.
Then sat.
"You were rejected," Shen Yuan said plainly.
Lin Qiu's jaw tightened. "Yes."
"You know your aptitude looks low."
"Yes."
"You also know that if you follow your current method," Shen Yuan continued evenly, "your foundation will collapse within five years."
Lin Qiu's breath hitched.
"…Yes."
Shen Yuan watched his reaction carefully.
No denial.No anger.No excuses.
Just acceptance.
"Why do you keep cultivating?" Shen Yuan asked.
Lin Qiu was silent for a long moment.
Then he said, "Because stopping doesn't make me safer. It just makes the end quieter."
That answer settled something.
"Candidate alignment increasing," the Heavenly Sect Creation System noted softly.
Shen Yuan did not respond.
He was still evaluating.
Shen Yuan stood.
"I won't take you as a disciple," he said.
Lin Qiu's shoulders stiffened—but he did not plead.
"I expected that," he replied.
Shen Yuan nodded.
Good.
"But," Shen Yuan continued, "I will give you something else."
Lin Qiu looked up.
Shen Yuan reached into his sleeve and produced a simple slip of paper. On it were a few lines—no technique name, no realm description, no flourish.
Just instructions.
"Read this," Shen Yuan said. "Then decide."
Lin Qiu took the paper carefully, eyes scanning the words.
His breathing changed almost immediately.
"This… this circulation…" he whispered.
"It will destroy your current progress," Shen Yuan said calmly."It will be painful.""And for a long time, you will look weaker than before."
Lin Qiu swallowed.
"And if I don't follow it?"
"Then nothing changes," Shen Yuan replied. "You live as you would have."
Silence stretched.
Finally, Lin Qiu asked the only question that mattered.
"…Why give me this?"
Shen Yuan met his eyes.
"Because you didn't ask for mercy," he said."And you didn't blame the world."
That was all.
Shen Yuan turned to leave.
Behind him, Lin Qiu stared at the paper, hands trembling—not with fear, but with restraint.
"Senior," Lin Qiu called.
Shen Yuan stopped but did not turn.
"If I follow this," Lin Qiu said, voice firm, "and I survive… will you look at me again?"
Shen Yuan paused.
Then answered.
"Yes."
That night, Lin Qiu burned his old notes.
And began again.
"Subtask completed," the Heavenly Sect Creation System announced.
"First Disciple Candidate: Condition Met.""Observation Phase continues."
Shen Yuan stood at his window, looking out over Qinghe City.
He had not accepted a disciple.
Not yet.
But the foundation of a sect had taken its first, irreversible step.
Not with a ceremony.
But with a choice.