The summons came at dawn.
A single bronze bell echoed across the servant quarters, low and authoritative, its sound carrying the weight of final judgment. Xiao Li paused mid-step, the faint pulse of the void within him settling into stillness. He already knew what the summons meant. The sect did not call servants unless a decision had been made.
He did not resist.
The Hall of Azure Judgment rose like a monolith at the heart of the sect. White stone pillars etched with ancient Dao symbols stretched toward the heavens, each one representing laws older than memory. Disciples lined the outer courtyard, whispering quietly as Xiao Li passed. Their eyes lingered on him—some curious, some mocking, some indifferent.
A servant who had failed three times.
A name already written off.
Inside the hall, the elders sat in silence. Seven figures upon a raised dais, their robes flowing with restrained spiritual pressure. Spirit formations hummed faintly beneath the floor, designed to expose Qi flow, Spirit Roots, and cultivation alignment.
Xiao Li stood alone at the center.
"Xiao Li," Elder Qian spoke at last, his voice calm and cold. "You were tested three times. Your Spirit Root was found deficient, unstable, and ultimately nonexistent. You were given mercy beyond reason."
Another elder raised a hand. A Spirit Stone floated forward, glowing faintly. "Place your palm upon it."
Xiao Li obeyed.
The moment his skin touched the stone, the chamber waited.
Nothing happened.
No glow.
No resonance.
No rejection.
The Spirit Stone did not even crack.
It dulled—its light fading slowly, like a candle deprived of air—until it became an ordinary stone, lifeless and inert.
A murmur spread through the hall.
Elder Qian frowned. "Again."
A second stone. Then a third.
Each met the same fate.
The formations beneath the hall flickered, unable to register Qi flow, unable to detect meridian activity. The instruments designed to measure cultivation found nothing—no resistance, no deficiency, no presence at all.
As if Xiao Li stood outside the world's laws.
Silence stretched.
Finally, Elder Qian spoke again, his voice sharp now. "This is no longer a matter of talent. Your body cannot circulate Qi. Your meridians are collapsed. You are incapable of cultivation."
A pause.
"You are a cripple."
The word fell like a verdict carved into stone.
Xiao Li lowered his head and bowed.
"I accept the judgment," he said calmly.
That calm unsettled them more than defiance would have.
Another elder narrowed his eyes. "From this day forward, you are barred from all cultivation halls, formations, and sect resources. You will remain a servant until your service ends—or until you leave the sect."
No execution.
No exile.
No correction.
Because to the sect, Xiao Li was already finished.
They did not feel the void stir.
They did not sense the quiet pressure folding around him, hiding him deeper from Heaven's sight.
Xiao Li turned and walked from the hall without another word.
Behind him, the elders began arguing quietly—not about him, but about the Spirit Stones. About faulty formations. About anomalies that made no sense.
None of them said his name again.
Outside, the sky was clear. Disciples resumed their training. The sect continued as it always had.
But beneath the stone, beneath the halls, beneath fate itself—
Something shifted.
Far above the world, beyond clouds and stars, the Heavenly ledger flickered violently for the first time.
A correction was attempted.
And failed.
No name appeared.
No fate aligned.
No record formed.
Only an empty space where Xiao Li should have been.
In that vast, silent realm, something ancient stirred.
The Heavenly Executor did not awaken yet.
But it turned its gaze—slowly, deliberately—toward the mortal realm.
And for the first time, Heaven felt uncertainty.
End of Chapter 10