A month had passed in the blink of an eye.
In the heart of Shuihua, the capital of Linhua, life had resumed its tranquil rhythm. The scent of plum blossoms floated on the breeze, children ran through sunlit streets, and merchants filled the markets with cheerful noise. No trace remained of the plague's grip nor the shadows of war. The city bloomed like spring after a bitter winter.
But beyond the calm, in a secluded mountain valley veiled in mist, three youths were training beneath a roaring waterfall.
Zhang Wei, robed in white, sat cross-legged under the crashing water. His eyes closed, his body unmoving, he endured the relentless force without the aid of qi only raw physical strength and tenacity. Beside him, Pan Qiang stood firm. His once-scrawny frame now carried a robust build, muscles carved from hardship and perseverance. Yet every few moments, a sharp "Agh!" would ring out as he toppled into the shallow pool below not from lack of strength, but from losing focus.
The third was Han Yu , the prince of Linhua, his posture graceful and unwavering, his aura subtly refined. Of the three, he had advanced the furthest, having broken through to the middle stage of Qi Foundation Realm. His breathing was rhythmic, and a faint trace of qi shimmered around him, repelled naturally by the waterfall's pressure.
High above them, perched atop a large rock with crossed arms, sat Yu Wenshan. His eyes half-lidded as if drowsy, he picked up small pebbles from a pouch and flicked them casually at the boys. The rocks came like arrows, aiming for temples, shoulders, or knees, not to injure, but to disrupt their stillness.
Plink!A pebble struck Zhang Wei's shoulder. He didn't even flinch.Plink!Another flew at Han Yu's forehead. With a flicker of qi, it deflected.Thunk—SPLASH!
Pan Qiang stumbled again with a loud yelp and fell backward into the pool.
Yu Wenshan let out a dramatic sigh. "Concentration, Pan Qiang! Even a mountain crumbles without a still mind."
Pan Qiang surfaced with a frustrated groan. "Teacher, you try keeping calm when you're being pelted like a melon at market!"
Han Yu chuckled lightly, and even Zhang Wei's lips curled into a rare smile.
Despite the constant pressure, both Zhang Wei and Pan Qiang had reached the Upper Completion stage of the Body Tempering Realm. Zhang Wei's body had grown leaner, harder, like a blade still in the forging flame. Meanwhile, Pan Qiang's Titan Pulse continued to awaken, his frame thickening with each passing day, his potential beginning to show its terrifying depth.
After the intense morning beneath the waterfall, Yu Wenshan finally clapped his hands and called out, "Enough. Get changed and meet me in the garden, we have matters to discuss."
The trio obeyed at once. Zhang Wei wrung water from his white robes before heading off. Pan Qiang grumbled, rubbing the sore spot where yet another pebble had struck him. Han Yu, silent but curious, led the way back toward the familiar garden, the one shaded by blossoming trees and fed by a winding stream.
When they arrived, Yu Wenshan was already waiting beneath the tree, sipping calmly from a clay teacup. His gaze was heavier than usual.
"This will be your first assignment," he began, placing the cup down. "Not as students, but as cultivators walking the path."
Zhang Wei and Pan Qiang exchanged a glance. Han Yu's expression turned serious.
"There is a village near the western borders," Yu Wenshan continued. "Lotus Village. It has recently been plagued by bandit attacks. Several lives lost. The roads are unsafe. Crops are stolen. At first, no one paid attention but something changed."
He paused, eyes narrowing.
"The large sects have begun to move. Each has sent disciples to investigate, not for charity, but because they believe something more sinister is behind these bandits. The royal family cannot act directly there. Our authority doesn't extend to where the great sects hold sway. That's why I'm sending you three, as observers, healers, and warriors, undercover."
Han Yu nodded. "It's a test of both our strength and our judgment."
Without further delay, the trio prepared and set off, dressed as wandering cultivators. Their journey stretched across days, following winding paths through forest and marshland. Zhang Wei, as always, paused to heal those in need children with fever, elders with weak pulses, even animals when they limped with injury. His heart could not pass by suffering untouched.
Pan Qiang carried supplies and often cracked jokes, earning smiles from the villagers they passed. Han Yu, noble yet silent, ensured their pace remained steady.
By the seventh day, they reached the outskirts of Lotus Village.
Nestled in a quiet valley, the village was surrounded by rice paddies and low hills. Mist hung over the fields, but smoke curled from broken rooftops. The signs of struggle were everywhere—burned fences, trampled crops, and watchful eyes that peeked from behind barred doors.
Bandits had made life here harsh. But Lotus Village bore another tension—the presence of outsiders.
Han Yu led them up a hill, where a camp of cultivators had been pitched. Flags fluttered in the wind, each bearing the insignia of a great sect.
"Let me introduce you to the players on this field," Han Yu said, halting atop the slope.
He pointed to a group of white-clad youths with sharp eyes and sword-shaped pendants.
"The Sword Sect.""Masters of sword cultivation. Ruthless precision. Their disciples train from childhood and are taught to strike only when necessary—but never miss. That girl there is Liu Qingyue, she's their top disciple under twenty. Cold as ice, but unmatched with a blade."
He gestured next toward a trio of robed cultivators seated near a cauldron, quietly refining pills with qi flickering between their fingers.
"The Divine Cauldron Sect.""Alchemists, poison masters, and spiritual healers. That man with the red sleeves is Wu Sheng. He's famed for concocting pills mid-battle. Dangerous even without a sword."
Finally, his gaze fell upon a dark-robed group standing apart, their presence oppressive like storm clouds.
"The Heavenly Cult.""Not technically a sect, they're an ancient order. Their cultivation borders on forbidden. They worship an ancient celestial being, and their methods often clash with both sect and state. That masked youth is Yan Mo. No one's seen his full face, but his cultivation is already in the Qi Core Realm."
As the trio looked down upon the various sect disciples, Zhang Wei crossed his arms thoughtfully and asked, "Among them who's the strongest? Can you beat any of them?"
Han Yu's expression didn't shift, but he responded calmly, "Liu Qingyue of the Sword Sect is fast deadly in a duel. But sword cultivators rely on clarity of intent and linear precision. I've sparred with similar styles before. If I stay calm, my odds of winning are high."
He turned his gaze toward the Divine Cauldron Sect.
"Wu Sheng is tricky. He uses poisons and pills mid-combat. But his raw strength is lower than mine. I'd need to be cautious, but in a direct battle. I'd say seventy to eighty percent in my favor."
Zhang Wei raised an eyebrow. "And what about the one in black?"
At that, Han Yu fell silent for a moment. His voice dropped a little, more serious.
"Yan Mo is different. I've never fought him directly, but I've seen what he can do. He hides his cultivation well. It's likely he's already in the Qi Core Realm. His techniques are strange, powerful, and hard to read. If I were to face him, it would be a coin toss. Fifty-fifty. One misstep, and I'd lose."
Pan Qiang let out a low whistle. "So that guy's dangerous, huh?"
Han Yu nodded. "Very. He doesn't talk much. But his gaze it's like being stared at by something ancient."
Zhang Wei kept his eyes on the camp below, his thoughts racing. The world of cultivation wasn't just about healing, knowledge, or kind intent. It was a world of power, where one's place was forged through strength, wisdom, and will. And they were standing at the edge of that world now.
As the sun began its slow descent behind the mountains, the trio finally arrived at Lotus Village.
Despite the troubles that plagued it, the village still held a quiet beauty. Nestled between gentle hills and misty woods, the place was dotted with lotus ponds and winding dirt roads. Wooden homes stood humbly, weathered by time, and the villagers moved about with cautious eyes—wary of the dangers that lurked beyond their fields.
A group had already gathered at the main square. In the center stood a white-bearded man in long hemp robes clearly the village chief, surrounded by villagers and several cultivators, each dressed in distinct attire.
The village chief stepped forward with a respectful bow. "Honored guests, welcome to Lotus Village. Though we are simple folk, we are grateful for the protection your sects have extended to us. Please, allow us to host you during your stay."
One by one, the sect disciples stepped forward.
First came a graceful young woman in sky-blue robes embroidered with sword patterns. Her long hair was tied with a silver thread, and a cold air surrounded her.
"Liu Qingyue, inner disciple of the Sword Sect," she said simply, her voice like a blade, clean, sharp, and emotionless.
Next was a broad-shouldered youth in emerald green, his sleeves filled with alchemical fragrance.
"Wu Sheng of the Divine Cauldron Sect," he said with a smug grin. "You may call me Alchemist Wu. Try not to get poisoned."
Then stepped out a tall youth in dark robes, the insignia of a flame-wrapped moon on his chest. His face was unreadable, pale and still like a mask.
"Yan Mo," he said, nothing more.
The three turned toward Zhang Wei, Pan Qiang, and Han Yu, as if expecting something more refined. Han Yu stepped forward, hands clasped politely.
"We are wandering cultivators," he said smoothly, "passing through this village on the recommendation of our master. I am Han Yu, these are my companions Zhang Wei and Pan Qiang."
Wu Sheng chuckled. "Wandering cultivators? Country bumpkins, you mean."
His lips curled with arrogance. "Let me guess, you cultivate in chicken coops and bathe in river mud? You better stay out of the way. This mission is beyond farmhands playing immortal."
Pan Qiang's hands tightened into fists, but Han Yu smiled faintly. "You're not wrong. We do cultivate in the wilderness. But even mud can hide a dragon, just pray the mud doesn't splatter when the dragon stirs."
Wu Sheng's face twitched, the smirk wiped clean by a flash of anger. "You—!"
Before he could snap further, the village chief raised a hand.
"Please, honored guests. The safety of our people is what matters most. You may all come from different sects, but here, in Lotus Village, you are all equally welcome. We will prepare rooms and food for everyone. Let us not forget our purpose."
The tension dissolved barely as the cultivators turned toward the guest houses assigned to them. But even as they walked away, Zhang Wei could feel the air bristle with silent rivalry.
This mission had only just begun.