The Cloud River Sect left without bloodshed.
That alone told me one thing with certainty, they would return.
Cultivators like them did not retreat because of mercy or righteousness. They retreated because something did not sit right, because their instincts warned them of unseen resistance. Such warnings only sharpened their curiosity.
And curiosity, in the cultivation world, was often answred with violence.
So the days that followed were quiet.
Deliberately so.
I did not announce plans. I did not gather the villagers to deliver speeches. I did not declare the founding of anything. To do so would have been foolish. A sapling that grew too fast attracted axes.
Instead, i prepared.
Slowly.
Every morning, my routine continued as it always had.
Breathing first.
Movement second.
Work third.
Ling Yang's body was improving not dramatically, but consistently. The chronic ache in my jints faded into a manageable stiffness. I could walk for hours without collapsing. I could carry moderate loads, dig shallow trenches, and stand upright without my vision darkening.
Mortals did not need explosive growth.
That lesson echoed everywhere.
I refined the villager's daily routines subtly. Not commands suggestions. Simple adjustments to posture while working, breathing patterns while resting, spacing between houses to allow better airflow. Even the way tools were stored mattered.
The Dao of Living was meticulous.
And it rewarded patience.
Xiao became indispensable.
He moved through the village naturally, helping where help was needed, listening where listening mattered. People trusted him. Children followed him. Elders spoke freely around him.
He was without realizing it, becoming a pillar.
"Vice" the system had labeled him.
He did not know that word yet.
But he was earning it.
"You think they'll come back soon?" He asked one afternoon as we repaired a fence together.
"Yes." I replied.
"How soon?"
"Soon enought to test us. Not soon enough to crush us overnight."
He frowned. "That's not comforting."
"It shouldn't be"
He sighed. "What do we do if they force the issue?"
I tightened the last rope know and stood. 'We don't force anything back."
"That's it?"
"That's everything."
He stared at me, then shook his head. "I still don't understand how you scared them off."
"I didn't" I said. "I reminded them of themselves."
That answer did not satisfy him.
It didn't need to.
Three days later, I went to the bar.
Calling it bar was generous. It was a wooden structure leaning slightly to the left, with warped tables and perpetually damp floor. The air smelled of cheap alcohol and old laughter. It was the l=kind of place cultivators never noticed too mundane, too mortal.
Which made it perfect.
I sat near the back where the light was dim and conversations blended int a low hum. Xiao joined me, looking slightly out of place.
"You sure this is neessary?" He asked.
"Yes."
"For what?"
"To listen."
We ordered the cheapest liquor available. I took only a small sip, this body sitll couldn't tolerate much. Xiao barely touched his.
That was when I noticed her.
She was sprawled across two chairs, boots on the table, a clay jug dangling loosely from her fingers. Her hair was dark and messy, strands clinging to her flushed cheeks. Her clothes were worn but strange, travel stained, yet reinforced in places most mortals never bothered to protect.
She laughed loudly at nothing in particular, then took a deep swig. Alcohol spilled down her chin. And beneath the overwhelming scent of liquor.
Qi.
Not raging.
Not refined.
But dancing.
Unstable. Erratic. Free.
Drunken cultivation.
Rare.
Dangerous.
And powerful in its own way.
My fingers tightened around my cup.
Interesting.
She noticed my gaze immediately.
Sharp eyes, despite the drunken haze.
"What?" she slurred, squinting at me.. 'You judging how I drink, pretty bo?"
Xiao choked on his breath.
I smiled faintly. "No. I was judging how you sit."
She blinked. "What?"
"You lean too much to the left,' i continued calmly. "You center of balance is off. That's why your qi keeps slipping."
Silence fell at our table.
Her expresion shifted, not anger, not mockery, but focus.
Then she laughed.
"Hah! You're funny," she said, staggering to her feet and wobbling toward us. "Say that again."
"You lean too much to the left." I repeated. "And breathe too shallow when you drink."
She stared at me.
Realy stared.
Then she sat down uninvited.
"Name's Mornye," she said, lowering her voice. "And you're either a lunatic... Or you know exactly what you're talking about."
"Ling Yang." I replied. "This is Xiao."
Xiao nodded awkwardly.
Mornye sniffed. "You don't smell like a cultivator."
"I'm not."
She snorted. "Good. Cultivators are boring."
She took another swig. Then frowned. "Huh."
"What?" Xiao asked.
"My qi" She muttered. "Its settled."
I said nothing.
The Mortal Dao System Pulsed faintly.
We talked.
Not about cultivation at first.
About roads, villages, bad alcohol, worse people. Mornye spoke in half-laughs and sharp observations, drunk but not dull. She was wandering, she said. No sect. Mo master. She had offended one too many elders and ecided the world was safer when she was moving.
"Drunken cultivation's a pain." She admitted. 'Everyone thinks it's a joke until you punch them through a wall."
'Why choose it?" I asked.
She shrugged. "Because it doesn't lie. When you're drunk, you are what you are."
There was wisdom there.
Buried.
"You're running from something." Xiao said before he could stop himself.
Mornye grinned. "Aren't we all?"
Her gaze flicked back to me. "You're building something..."
I raised an eyebrow. "Am I?"
'You sit like a sect master without a sect," She said. "And you look at people like they're foundations, but what makes me curious is, your young..."
I chuckled. "That's an odd compliment."
"Means i'm interested." She repleid.
The system stirred.
[Detected: Dao-Compatible Individual]
Name: Mornye Tan.
Path: Drunken Dao (Unbound)
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Potential Role: External Pillar / Unofficial Protector
I took a slow breath.
"You should leave town before the Cloud River Sect returns." I said.
Mornye froze mid sip.
"They already sniffed this place?" She asked quietly.
"Yes."
She studied my face, searching for fear.
She didn't find any.
Then she grinned.
"Well," she said, lifting her jug. "Thats inconvenient timing."
"You don't have to stay." Xiao said quickly.
She laughed. "Oh, I know"
Then she leaned closer.
"But I want to."
That night, as we walked back under the stars, Xiao was unusually quiet.
"You trust her?" He finally asked.
"No," I said. "But I understand her."
"That's worse."
"Sometimes," I agreed.
The Mortal Dao System pulsed again.
[Preparation Phase Initiated]
Threat: Cloud River Sect (Local Influence)
Status: Imminent Return (Estimated: Days to Weeks)
Available Assets:
-Village stability: Growing
-Xiao (Latent Cultivator, Loyal)
-Mornye (Unbound Cultivator, Unpredictable)
-Host Influence: Low but expanding
Recommended Actions:
-Establis rules
-Secure external Variables
-Solidify mortal authrority.
I looked at the sleeping village.
No walls.
No formations.
No sect flags.
Just people.
Living.
Breathing.
Trusting.
The cultivation world would never understand this place.
Which meant-
They would underestimate it.
And that, I knew was our greatest advantage,
And for the first time since my reincarnation-
I felt certain.
The storm was coming.
But this time, I would not meet it with lightning.
I would meet it with roots.