Back in his cave, Su Yang sat on his meditation cushion and pulled out the ancient book.
Chronicles of Ancient Emperors: Volume Seven (Incomplete).
He had taken a few historical books with this one to study, alone in the silence of his cave, he opened it again and read every word. Slowly. Carefully. Letting the truth settle into his bones.
The Dragon Seal Emperor Body appears once in ten thousand years.
Copies any female spiritual body through dual cultivation.
Leaves a seal that connects all members of his harem.
Senses female spiritual bodies—even dormant ones.
Can awaken any female spiritual body through union.
Every Dragon Seal Emperor in history has been hunted and killed.
Su Yang closed the book and stared at the wall.
Ten thousand years. The last one had been executed thousands of years ago by a coalition of sects. Thirty-seven spiritual body cultivators in his harem. Thirty-six chose death rather than separation.
This is what I am now.
He had suspected it, deep down, ever since the heat had gathered in his lower abdomen. Ever since the urge had crashed over him—the overwhelming need for a female. But reading it, seeing the words written in ancient ink, made it real.
I'm a walking catastrophe. A threat to every sect in the world.
He took a slow breath and forced himself to think.
Panic would not help him. Fear would not protect him. He had survived the death of his parents. He had survived alone in a village that had no place for him. He had traveled across the province with nothing but hope and a doctor's letter of introduction.
He would survive this too.
First: I need to get stronger. Much stronger.
The book had said the Dragon Seal Emperor could not be suppressed forever. Eventually, his body would demand what it needed. Spiritual bodies would be drawn to him. The seal would begin to form.
But if he was strong enough—if he reached Foundation Establishment, or even Core Formation—he could protect himself. Protect the women who would inevitably become part of his harem. Protect them from the sects that would try to tear them apart.
Foundation Establishment. That's my first goal.
Captain Wei had said he'd been stuck at the eighth level of Qi Refinement for twelve years. Most cultivators took decades to reach Foundation Establishment. Some never made it at all.
But Su Yang was not most cultivators.
He had the Dragon Seal Emperor Body. His cultivation speed was already unnatural—three levels in a single night. If he pushed hard, trained smart, and avoided drawing attention, he could reach Foundation Establishment in months rather than years.
But I need to be careful. Too fast, and people will notice. Too slow, and I won't be ready when the secret comes out.
He set the book aside and stood up.
Plan: Train my body. Master the Earth Nourishment Method. Stabilize my current cultivation level before pushing further. And learn to fight.
His eyes fell on the Blackiron Pillar leaning against the wall.
---
The pillar weighed at least fifty pounds. Maybe more. It was nothing but a straight length of dark, unpolished iron—no edges, no techniques, no spiritual enhancements. Just weight.
Perfect for building strength.
Su Yang hefted it onto his shoulder and walked to the small clearing behind his cave. The morning sun was fully up now, painting the mountain in shades of gold and green. He could hear the distant sound of waterfalls, the faint hum of sect formations, the occasional shout of other disciples training somewhere on the peak.
He had no formal training in weapons. In his past life, he had never held anything heavier than a coffee cup. In this life, he had swung a farming hoe and carried bundles of herbs.
But he had read novels. He had watched movies. He understood the basic concept of a staff or pole: block, strike, sweep, thrust.
He planted his feet shoulder-width apart, gripped the pillar with both hands, and began to move.
The first swing nearly pulled him off balance. The pillar was heavier than it looked, its weight distributed differently than he had expected. He adjusted his grip, bent his knees, and tried again.
Swing. Recover. Swing.
Sweat beaded on his forehead. His muscles burned. But with each repetition, the pillar felt slightly less awkward. His body was different now—stronger, more responsive, honed by the awakening of his spiritual body. He could feel the difference in his tendons, his ligaments, the way his core engaged to stabilize each movement.
He practiced for an hour. Then another.
By the time he stopped, his arms were shaking and his uniform was soaked through. But he had learned something important: the Blackiron Pillar was not just a weight. It was an anchor. When he channeled even a trace of his earth-attuned spiritual energy into it, the pillar felt rooted, as if it had become part of the mountain itself.
There's a technique here, he realized. Something I can develop over time.
But that was for later. For now, he needed to rest and recover.
---
After a quick wash in the mountain stream, Su Yang returned to his cave and picked up the Earth Nourishment Method for Spiritual Flora.
He had read it twice already, memorizing the key points. But reading was not the same as doing. Tomorrow, he would have to stand in that empty field and make test seeds germinate using nothing but his earth spiritual energy.
He opened the book and began to practice.
The technique was surprisingly simple: channel earth-attuned spiritual energy into the soil in a slow, steady stream, avoiding sudden surges that would damage the roots. The energy needed to be warm but not hot, consistent but not forceful—like a gentle rain rather than a flood.
Su Yang sat on the floor of his cave, placed his palms flat on the stone, and tried to send his energy downward.
Nothing happened.
He tried again, focusing on the image of roots growing, of seeds splitting open, of green shoots reaching for the sun. He imagined his spiritual energy as water, seeping into dry earth, awakening dormant life.
The stone beneath his palms grew warm.
It's working.
He held the flow for as long as he could—ten minutes, then twenty. By the time he stopped, he was exhausted but exhilarated. The technique had felt natural, as if his earth root had been waiting for this exact purpose.
I can do this. I can master this.
He practiced for another hour, refining his control, learning to adjust the flow of energy without breaking concentration. By the end, he could maintain a steady stream for nearly half an hour without tiring.
Tomorrow, the test seeds. I'll be ready.
---
Su Yang did not cultivate that night.
The Deep Earth Resonance Method called to him, whispering of faster progress, higher levels, greater power. But he forced himself to resist. His body had undergone a dramatic transformation. His spiritual energy had jumped three levels in a single night. If he pushed further without stabilizing his foundation, he risked damaging his meridians or, worse, drawing unwanted attention.
Slow down. Condense. Stabilize.
He spent the evening meditating, cycling his existing spiritual energy through his meridians without drawing in new energy. He focused on compressing the energy in his dantian, making it denser, purer, more refined.
The heat in his lower abdomen—the hunger that came with his spiritual body—pulsed quietly in the background. He acknowledged it, accepted it, but did not act on it.
Control. I need control.
By the time he lay down to sleep, he felt more settled than he had since the awakening. His body was still changing, still adjusting, but the chaos had subsided. He had a plan. He had a path forward.
He closed his eyes and slept deeply, dreaming of dragons and phoenixes and golden light.
---
The next day, Su Yang went to the food hall for the first time.
He had been surviving on dried rations left in his cave, but those were nearly gone. The food hall was a large pavilion near the center of the middle peak, open to all disciples during designated hours.
When he walked in, the noise level dropped.
Not dramatically—not the kind of silence that follows an elder's entrance. But conversations paused. Heads turned. Eyes lingered.
Su Yang kept his gaze forward and walked to the serving line.
The concealment ring is working, he reminded himself. They're seeing my old face. My old appearance.
But the ring only hid his transformed features. It could not hide the changes to his bearing—the way he moved now, with unconscious grace and quiet confidence. It could not hide the subtle aura of authority that radiated from him, the Imperial Dragon Physique bleeding through even the illusion.
Or maybe it's the Dragon Seal Emperor Body. Maybe even the ring can't hide everything.
A group of female disciples at a nearby table were whispering behind their hands. He caught fragments of their conversation:
"—new disciple? I haven't seen him before—"
"—look at his shoulders—"
"—he's so handsome—"
Su Yang kept his expression neutral and filled his tray with rice, steamed vegetables, and a small portion of roasted meat. He found an empty table in the corner and sat down to eat.
He had barely taken three bites when a shadow fell over his table.
"Excuse me."
He looked up. A young woman stood before him, perhaps seventeen or eighteen, with delicate features and kind eyes. She wore the uniform of an inner disciple, and pinned to her collar was a small bronze badge—a mortar and pestle crossed over a flame.
An alchemist badge. Apprentice rank, if the color meant anything.
"I'm Liu Meixiang," she said, smiling. "I don't think we've met. Are you a new disciple?"
Su Yang set down his chopsticks. "Su Yang. New outer disciple. I joined with this year's cohort."
"Outer disciple?" Her eyebrows rose slightly. "You carry yourself like an inner disciple. Or higher." She sat down across from him without waiting for an invitation. "Where are you from? What's your spiritual root?"
The questions came rapid-fire, but her tone was friendly, curious rather than interrogative.
"A small village in the eastern province," Su Yang said. "Medium-grade earth root."
"Earth root." She nodded approvingly. "The herb fields need earth roots. Are you assigned there?"
"Yes. I start tomorrow."
"Then we'll be working near each other. I'm an alchemy apprentice—I process the herbs after they're harvested." She tilted her head, studying him. "If you need help with the Earth Nourishment Method, I know a few tricks. Senior disciples are supposed to guide the newcomers."
Su Yang bowed his head slightly. "I appreciate the offer, Senior Sister Liu."
"Just Liu Meixiang is fine. Or Meixiang, if you're comfortable." She smiled again, and he noticed two more female disciples hovering near the table, watching with barely concealed interest. "My friends are too shy to come over, but they wanted me to tell you that if you ever need anything—help with techniques, someone to show you around, company during meals—you can find us at the alchemy pavilion."
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."
Liu Meixiang stood, gave him another smile, and returned to her friends. The group dissolved into giggles and whispered commentary.
Su Yang returned to his food, acutely aware of the eyes still on him.
This is going to be a problem.
He had never sought attention. In his past life, he had been ordinary—unremarkable in a crowd. In this life, he had been the village smart kid, notable but not noteworthy. Now, even with the concealment ring hiding his true appearance, he was drawing stares.
It's the spiritual body. Even hidden, it affects how people perceive me.
He finished his meal quickly and stood to leave.
As he walked toward the exit, a group of male disciples at a nearby table watched him with cold eyes. One of them—a broad-shouldered young man with a scar above his eyebrow—muttered something to his companions. Suyang caught the words "new blood" and "thinks he's special."
He ignored them.
He had no interest in rivalry, in proving himself to jealous seniors, in playing the games of petty disciples. His path was larger than that. His dangers were greater.
He smiled politely at everyone who looked his way—the female disciples who whispered, the male disciples who glared, the neutral faces of those who simply observed. He kept his head high but his manner humble.
Don't stand out. Don't make enemies. Don't draw attention.
He left the food hall and walked back toward his cave, the afternoon sun warm on his face.
Tomorrow, the herb fields. Tomorrow, real work. And after that, more training, more cultivation, more steps toward Foundation Establishment.
One day at a time. One step at a time.
But as he walked, he noticed something: a faint warmth in his chest, pulsing in the direction of Li Ling'er's cave. She was there, cultivating or resting, her Blazing Phoenix body a beacon to his senses.
He wondered if she felt him too.
And he wondered, with a mixture of dread and anticipation, how long he could keep his secret before the dragon inside him demanded what it needed.
---
Back in his cave, Su Yang picked up the Blackiron Pillar and resumed his training.
Swing. Block. Sweep. Thrust.
The movements were becoming smoother, more natural. His earth spiritual energy flowed into the pillar with each strike, making it feel lighter when he wanted speed, heavier when he wanted power.
There's a real technique here, he thought. Something I can develop over time.
He practiced until his arms gave out, then practiced some more.
By nightfall, he was exhausted but satisfied. His body was adapting faster than he had expected. His control over his spiritual energy was improving. And his mind was clear, focused on the goals ahead.
He washed, ate a small meal, and sat down to meditate.
Tomorrow: the herb fields. Prove myself to the alchemy seniors. Earn my spirit stones.
Then: more training. More cultivation. Foundation Establishment.
And after that...
He didn't know what came after. The path was too long, the future too uncertain.
But he would walk it anyway. One step at a time.
He closed his eyes and let the quiet hum of the mountain carry him into a deep, restful sleep.