The sky above Mount Qingyun was overcast when Li Tianyang made his way toward the meditation chamber the next morning.
A thin mist clung to the stone steps along the mountain path, and the air felt heavier than usual, as though holding its breath.
He walked without haste, each step measured, his thoughts clear and focused.
He had resolved not to attempt breakthrough, only to test the stability of the spiritual vein one final time before the Azure Cloud Sect inspector arrived.
When he reached the carved entrance of the chamber, he paused briefly and placed his palm against the cool stone surface.
The faint pulse beneath the mountain was present again.
It felt slightly stronger than the day before.
He entered.
The chamber was silent, the formation lines along the walls glowing faintly with residual spiritual energy.
He seated himself at the center platform and adjusted his posture carefully.
His breathing slowed, deepened, steadied.
He began circulating a thin thread of Qi, guiding it along the lower meridians with deliberate caution.
For several cycles, everything seemed controlled.
The spiritual vein fed a modest stream of energy upward.
Then the pressure increased.
It was gradual at first, like a river rising after steady rain.
He reduced intake immediately, attempting to disperse the external flow before it accumulated within his dantian.
The pressure did not lessen.
Instead, it pushed harder against his meridians, forcing the incoming Qi into channels he had not opened.
His brow tightened.
He halted circulation entirely.
The surge continued.
A sudden tremor passed through the chamber floor.
The formation lines along the walls flickered faintly.
He opened his eyes sharply.
The spiritual vein pulsed once, sharply and violently.
The next surge struck him before he could withdraw.
External Qi flooded into his meridians in overwhelming volume.
He attempted to redirect it upward, but the force was too great.
His channels strained under the pressure, and a burning sensation spread through his lower abdomen.
He clenched his teeth and tried to stabilize the flow.
For a brief instant, he thought he had regained control.
Then the final pulse arrived.
It slammed into his dantian like a collapsing wall.
There was no explosion, no flash of light.
Only a deep internal rupture.
The warm rotation at his core shattered.
Pain radiated outward in waves, tearing through every meridian at once.
His breath left him in a silent gasp as he doubled forward, clutching his abdomen.
He attempted to circulate even a fragment of Qi.
Nothing responded.
The warmth was gone.
In its place was hollow stillness.
He fell sideways from the platform onto the cold stone floor.
The surge ceased abruptly, leaving only silence within the chamber.
For several breaths, he lay motionless, struggling to steady himself.
Footsteps echoed from the entrance.
Elder Zhou and two formation specialists hurried inside, drawn by the disturbance.
Zhou knelt beside him and pressed fingers to his wrist, extending spiritual sense inward.
His expression changed almost imperceptibly.
"The dantian has ruptured," he said quietly.
The words did not carry shock, only grim certainty.
The formation specialists examined the walls.
"The stabilizing array failed at the lower node," one muttered.
"It appears as natural vein fluctuation," the other added.
Tianyang forced himself upright with effort.
"I did not attempt breakthrough," he said, his voice controlled despite the pain.
Zhou nodded once. "The surge exceeded your capacity regardless."
Disciples were summoned to carry him down the mountain path.
Whispers began spreading even before they reached the courtyard.
"Something happened in the chamber."
"Was it Tianyang?"
By the time he was placed within the eastern residence hall, Clan Patriarch Li Zheng had already arrived.
He dismissed everyone except Elder Zhou.
"What is the extent?" Li Zheng asked evenly.
Zhou's reply was measured. "The dantian has collapsed entirely, and the meridians have suffered severe scarring."
Li Zheng stepped closer to his son.
"Tianyang."
Tianyang opened his eyes.
"I cannot feel it," he said quietly.
He attempted once more to circulate Qi, if only to prove the diagnosis wrong.
Nothing stirred.
The warmth he had cultivated for years was gone without trace.
Li Zheng placed a steady hand on his shoulder.
"You will rest," he said.
Outside the hall, disciples gathered in subdued clusters.
Junhao stood among them, his expression composed.
He heard the whispered confirmation.
"His cultivation is finished."
A strange mixture of relief and unease passed through him.
This had been his intention.
Yet witnessing its finality felt heavier than imagined.
Su Meiling arrived shortly after, her face pale as she stepped into the hall.
She looked at Tianyang without speaking.
He met her gaze calmly.
Neither needed words to understand what had changed.
As afternoon faded into evening, the Li Clan estate grew unusually quiet.
The plum blossoms continued to fall beneath the fading light.
Within the eastern residence, Li Tianyang lay still, staring at the wooden ceiling beams above him.
His body remained strong.
His breathing steady.
But the center of his being was empty.
Cultivation had defined his path since childhood.
Without it, the future stretched uncertain and unmarked before him.
Outside, the mountain stood silent against the darkening sky.
Deep beneath its stone foundation, the spiritual vein pulsed once more, now perfectly calm, as though nothing had occurred.
But within Li Tianyang, something irreplaceable had fractured.
And the consequences of that fracture had only begun.