The pervasive mist curled lazily over the stone pathways of Silvermist Ravine Sect, clinging to the hem of Han Wei’s robes as he walked through the inner sect’s main plaza.

  The central plaza was alive with the busy daily traffic of disciples, both inner and outer, making their way around the sect. Disciples moved in practiced formations, their movements sharp and disciplined, while others meditated beneath ancient trees, their auras pulsing faintly with nascent power.

  Han Wei observed them with a quiet tension in his chest. He was passing through as part of his new effort to be seen patrolling the sect after his agreement with Elder Mei. But his stomach twisted with the deception.

  All his previous deceptions were for the purpose of protecting himself and felt victimless. He needed to stay in the sect to give himself the best chance to heal, and who was he harming? Even with his lowered cultivation he was easily able to guide cultivators who had barely started on the path.

  But now he was being relied on to sniff out demonic influence and he didn’t have access to his divine sense - not while maintaining his disguise technique at least. And he wasn’t about to drop the technique when it was the only thing keeping his position in the sect safe.

  Was he putting innocents at risk by not admitting his weakness?

  The thought sent a shiver through his cultivation base. Prioritising oneself above all else was not the way of the dharma.

  A voice cut through his thoughts like a blade - sharp and deliberate.

  "Elder Han! How fortuitous to find you here."

  Han Wei turned to see Elder Zhang approaching, his dark robes embroidered with silver sigils of discipline. Beside him, face impassive, was Elder Liu who calmly watched the interaction.

  Here comes trouble. Thought Han Wei decisively. And Elder Zhang is always in the middle of it.

  Han Wei inclined his head slightly, maintaining the serene composure expected of an elder. "Elder Zhang. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

  Zhang’s smile was all teeth. "I merely wanted to catch up, it has been so long since we last talked. Word has reached me of your… unorthodox training methods. Truly fascinating. I am always interested in new training techniques, won’t you regale me with how you came up with your methods?”

  “I’m flattered by your interest. I’m sure that my methods, unusual though they may be, do not compare to your own. I have heard much of how effective they are on those who successfully endure them.”

  “How kind of you.” Elder Zhang easily accepted the deflection. “But surely to see how our methods compare, we would need our disciples to actually meet. Yes, what a wonderful idea Elder Han, let us measure our new disciples against one another. A friendly exchange, of course."

  The area around them had gone quiet. Nearby disciples had paused in their exercises, watching the exchange with keen interest.

  Han Wei’s jaw tightened imperceptibly. A trap. If he refused, it would be seen as cowardice - proof that his methods were flawed, that he lacked confidence in his own disciples. But if he accepted…

  "An interesting proposal," Han Wei said smoothly. "However, I currently have three new disciples under my tutelage. It would be an unfair test to pit them against yours when you only selected two - if I remember correctly."

  Before Elder Zhang could respond, another voice joined in.

  "Then let us even the numbers."

  Elder Liu stepped forward, his expression unreadable. At his side stood a wiry youth with cold, calculating eyes. "My disciple, Jiang Rong, is at the same cultivation level as Xiao Lan. He would be honored to participate."

  Han Wei’s stomach tightened. Liu is in on this - whatever this was.

  Elder Zhang clapped his hands together. "Excellent! Then it’s settled. A series of exhibition matches - one for each disciple. Let the sect witness the fruits of your teachings, Elder Han."

  There was no refusing now.

  Han Wei exhaled slowly, then nodded. "Very well. We shall arrange the matches in three days' time."

  His mind was already calculating the risks. Xiao Lan, Lan Feng, and Tie Zhu were talented, but they were still inexperienced. Elder Zhang’s disciples, on the other hand, were thrown into brutal training as soon as they were selected. It was well known that Elder Zhang had his best performing disciples ruthlessly train any new selections to beat out any weakness and winnow out the lesser talents.

  And then there was Liang Rong - Elder Liu’s disciple. Han Wei didn’t trust Elder Liu’s motives, but he had no choice but to play along.

  Elder Zhang’s grin widened. "I look forward to it."

  As the two elders departed, the whispers of the disciples rose like a tide. Han Wei remained still, his mind already racing.

  Xiao Lan, Lan Feng, Tie Zhu… They were strong - stronger than they knew. But were they ready to face Elder Zhang’s handpicked prodigies in front of the entire sect?

  The news spread like wildfire amongst the younger generation in the sect. And it quickly got back to Xiao Lan who dealt with the news by dragging Lan Feng out shopping for supplies.

  The sect market bustled with activity, disciples haggling over spirit herbs, talismans, and low-grade artifacts. Xiao Lan strode ahead, her bladed fans tucked neatly into her sash, while Lan Feng trailed behind, his gaze darting nervously between the stalls.

  "We should stock up on recovery pills," Xiao Lan said, inspecting a vial of Qi-Replenishing Elixir. "If we’re going to be humiliating Elder Zhang’s disciples in front of the entire sect, we might as well be prepared to take a few hits."

  Lan Feng opened his mouth to respond when a voice cut in, smooth and mocking.

  "Oh? And who, exactly, is going to be humiliating who?"

  They turned to see Zhang Wei leaning against a nearby stall, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his lips. He was tall for his age, his robes finer than most disciples’, embroidered with subtle silver threads - unconsciously echoing Elder Zhang’s styles.

  Xiao Lan remembered him from the disciple selection ceremony - she had made note of all the disciples selected by sect elders. She doubted that the shared surname with his master was a coincidence.

  Xiao Lan’s eyes narrowed. "Zhang Wei. Here to waste our time?"

  "Just making conversation," he said, pushing off the stall and stepping closer. "I heard about the little exhibition matches and thought I’d take a closer look at who I’ll be winning against."

  Xiao Lan scoffed. "Please. I’d be happy to teach you the error of your ways right here."

  “We’re not intimidated by you.” Added Lan Feng attempting to back her up.

  Zhang Wei looked him up and down and laughed. “You’re the one with the fox bloodline, aren’t you? I heard it’s more of a curse than a blessing. Tell me, do you even know how to control it? Or are you just a liability to your master?”

  Something snapped within Lan Feng. His vision blurred and a strange warmth spread through his veins.

  Xiao Lan jumped to his defense. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Our master chose us all for our talent and potential, I wonder if your master can say the same?”

  Lan Feng felt like he was watching the exchange happen from under water.

  Zhang Wei’s smirk deepened and became cruel. "Cute. But let’s be honest - your master is a guest elder. A temporary fixture. Rumor has it he won’t even last long enough to finish training you."

  Xiao Lan stiffened, her face twisting in anger. Lan Feng could feel the outrange pouring off her, could feel it amplifying, could feel it building in Zhang Wei.

  "Watch your tongue," Xiao Lan snapped, her fingers twitching toward her fans. "Elder Han is twice the cultivator your pathetic ancestor will ever be."

  Lan Feng’s breath hitched. The air around them felt heavier, charged with something raw and unseen. His pulse roared in his ears, and for a terrifying moment, he felt something stir inside him - an ancient, wild presence, unfurling like shadows at dusk.

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  Zhang Wei’s expression turned black. "You dare insult Elder Zhang?"

  A wave of oppressive emotion crashed over them - anger, fear, pride - magnified tenfold. Xiao Lan’s face twisted into outright fury, her fingers now fully gripping her fans. Zhang Wei’s sneer turned vicious, his hand dropping to the hilt of his sword.

  Even the expressions of the watching crowd grew ugly, arguments starting up around them from those not watching the scene.

  "You want a fight right here?" Zhang Wei yelled, barely holding himself back. "I’ll gladly put you in your place."

  Xiao Lan bared her teeth, trembling in anger. "Try it."

  Lan Feng’s vision swam. The emotions weren’t just theirs - they were his, bleeding out uncontrollably, feeding the hostility between them. Panic clawed up his throat.

  I have to stop this!

  With a desperate gasp, he forced the strange energy back, sealing it away deep inside him. The pressure lifted abruptly, leaving both Xiao Lan and Zhang Wei blinking, as if waking from a trance.

  "Enough," Lan Feng said hoarsely, grabbing Xiao Lan’s wrist. "Let’s go."

  She hesitated, glaring at Zhang Wei, but allowed herself to be pulled away. Behind them, Zhang Wei called out, "Three days. Don’t disappoint me."

  Lan Feng didn’t even hear him, focused on keeping the energy inside and getting away.

  His Wild Fox Spirit bloodline had awakened and he had no idea what to do.

  While his disciples worried over the news of the exhibition match, Han Wei had retreated to the newly accessible Alchemist’s herb library. Hoping to distract himself from his worries by throwing himself into a new project.

  The Wide Roots Library was silent and Han Wei sat hunched over an ancient manual, his fingers tracing the faded ink.

  Soul Seeing Lotus…

  The text before him detailed its uses - both as an alchemical reagent and by itself. Most cultivators who found such a thing would simply absorb its essence directly into their souls, fortifying their spiritual foundations. But buried in the margins was another possibility: refinement.

  If he could extract and refine the lotus’s innate sensory properties instead of consuming its power outright, he might forge a temporary substitute for his crippled spiritual senses. A gamble, but one that could give him an edge in the days ahead.

  His fingers tightened around the manual. He was no treasure refiner or spiritual smith - even if he had been the principles only loosely applied - and failure could not only destroy the lotus but cause him significant harm.

  If I fail, then I waste a treasure that could strengthen my soul directly. But if I succeed…

  He exhaled sharply and stood, tucking the manual into his robes for further study. It was nearly time for his disciples to return for training - he had little time to waste agonising.

  Back at the courtyard, Tie Zhu was waiting for the other two when they returned, his spear resting across his shoulders. He took one look at their expressions and frowned. "What happened?"

  Xiao Lan threw herself onto a stone bench, arms crossed. "Zhang Wei happened."

  Lan Feng sat heavily, his hands trembling. "I… I lost control. My bloodline - it flared up. I almost made them fight."

  Tie Zhu’s frown deepened. "That’s bad?"

  Xiao Lan blinked. “That was you?”

  "Yes!" Lan Feng’s voice cracked, answering both of them. "What if it happens during the match? What if I—"

  "Calm down." Xiao Lan cut in, though her usual confidence was strained. "You stopped it this time. You’ll get better at controlling it."

  Tie Zhu hefted his spear. "Doesn’t matter. We fight anyway."

  “I thought it was Zhang Wei,” Xiao Lan mused, “trying to provoke me into dishonouring myself. It wasn’t until it ended that I even realised that I’d been affected.

  “I can see how it could be beneficial in a fight, she continued, “to encourage an opponent to make mistakes. You might even be able to use it to help even the odds in the exhibition fights.”

  Tie Zhu snorted in derision. “We don’t need to ‘even the odds’. We are an elder’s direct disciples the same as them. We should be good enough without any additional tricks.”

  Xiao Lan sighed, letting worry show on her face for the first time since they’d heard about the matches. "Elder Zhang is known for producing some of the strongest disciples in the sect."

  "So?" Tie Zhu shrugged. "We just have to be stronger."

  Lan Feng looked between them, his chest tight. Xiao Lan was afraid of losing - of proving Zhang Wei right. Tie Zhu was too stubborn to admit doubt. And him? He was terrified of failing them.

  The doors to the main courtyard opened, and their master stepped in, his expression unreadable.

  "I take it you’ve heard the news," he said calmly.

  Silence.

  Then—

  "We’re going to win," Tie Zhu declared.

  Han Wei’s lips quirked. "Alright. Then we have a lot of work to do."

  Their training schedule turned punishing. His disciples were either training martial arts, cultivating, or recovering. Nothing else was allowed.

  Still, what was a punishing pace for a Qi Refining and two Qi Gathering disciples left Han Wei with far too much time to think. He found himself musing on how much easier it would be to train them with free access to his spiritual senses again, and how much simpler interacting with other Elders would be.

  And he kept coming back to the possible demonic infiltrators. Keeping his divine sense blocked might be a violation of his moral duty. He was aligned with the heavens. He was a Dharmic cultivator. He was a righteous warrior. Or the old Elder Han was.

  He found himself regarding the faded notes in the manuals’ margins once again while waiting for his disciples to rest. It felt like a war was raging inside him - between the parts of him that wanted to make the attempt and the parts of him that warned against it.

  And it wasn’t like the memories and remnants of the previous Elder Han were saying one thing while his present self said another. Both sides of him could argue for both choices. The remnants of Elder Han said that all cultivation carried risk, bold choices were the only way to advance. They also said that a cultivator stood alone and all focus needed to be on increasing one’s strength, that he should simply absorb it to reinforce his spiritual body.

  His own experiences mirrored Elder Hans. He had promised to look for demonic activity and this could let him - he always held to his promises. And if you couldn’t risk yourself for your principles then they were not principles at all. But similarly his thoughts told him that this was not his world - he needed to act with every caution possible - to not do anything rash that might make his situation worse.

  The Soul Seeing Lotus glowed faintly in the dim light of Han Wei’s private chamber, its petals shimmering like captured moonlight. He had placed it atop a formation circle etched into the floor, its lines pulsing with subdued energy.

  Courage.

  He knelt, pressing his palms against the outermost ring of the formation. With a slow breath, he channeled a faint touch of spiritual energy into the array. The lines flared to life, threads of light weaving around the lotus like a spider’s web.

  "Refinement," he murmured.

  The lotus trembled.

  A searing pain lanced through his meridians as the first strands of its essence were pulled free - not as nourishment for his soul, but as raw sensory energy. His vision blurred, then shifted. For a heartbeat, he saw not with his eyes, but with something deeper - a fleeting glimpse of the world in strange hues of spiritual pressure, so unlike his divine sense, and yet somehow still familiar.

  Then—

  Snap.

  The connection broke. Han Wei gasped, doubling over as the backlash rattled his already weakened soul. The lotus remained, but its glow had dimmed, its petals slightly wilted.

  Not enough.

  He clenched his teeth. He had extracted a fraction of its power, but the process was unstable. If he continued, he risked destroying the lotus entirely - or worse, damaging his soul further.

  But the brief glimpse had been intoxicating. He was certain he had seen spiritual energy once again, even through the impenetrable barrier of his disguise technique.

  How long he stayed lost in his thoughts he didn’t know, but a knock at the door pulled him back to the present.

  "Elder Han?" Xiao Lan’s voice, sharp with concern. "The disciples are ready for your instruction."

  Han Wei quickly concealed the lotus and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Enter."

  The door slid open, revealing Xiao Lan, Lan Feng, and Tie Zhu. Their expressions were a mix of determination and unease - no doubt still rattled by the encounter with Zhang Wei.

  Tie Zhu’s eyes flicked to the fading glow of the formation circle. "Master?"

  Han Wei forced a smile. "Merely researching a technique. Come. We have much to prepare before the matches."

  As they filed out, his awareness reached out to his storage ring and the lotus within.

  Do I dare try again?

  The disciples trained under the cold light of the moon, their movements sharp, their focus unyielding. Han Wei observed them, his mind still half-lost in the possibilities of the lotus.

  Xiao Lan spun her fans with lethal precision, slicing through the air in arcs of silver. Lan Feng practiced his footwork, his steps technically perfect but still uncertain. Tie Zhu endured strike after strike against a wooden dummy, his body bruising under the strain while his cultivation method worked constantly to reinforce his strikes.

  They need me at my best.

  His fingers brushed against his spacial ring again.

  But what if I’m wrong?

  A voice in the back of his mind whispered: What if you’re not?

  Han Wei couldn’t help it. It wasn’t the wise choice. It wasn’t the choice Elder Han - cold, calculating, ever in control - would have ever made. But he couldn’t let it go.

  When his disciples were at the point where their training was doing more harm than good, he sent them to rest. He found himself frozen in place with his attention on the innocuous jade box in his ring.

  Han Wei pulled his courage together and knelt before the array circle once more.

  He brought forth the slightly wilted lotus, and regarded it solemnly. He took a moment to appreciate its beauty, cradling it in his palms and tracing the delicate veins of its essence. Then he began.

  His will lashed out, seizing the essence of the Soul Seeing Lotus, forcing it into submission. The energy fought back, writhing like a live thing rejecting the impetus to change and be refined.

  The essence was alien to his very existence. It did not know how to be human, it did not want to be human.

  He pulled it into his crown meridian while it burned like acid. Like molten steel pouring into his veins as their natures clashed.

  His meridians screamed, his spirit veins threatening to rupture under the strain. But he did not stop.

  Gritting his teeth, he scraped together the last shreds of his will, forcing the foreign energy deeper, merging it with his own.

  He was losing.

  His vision darkened at the edges. He felt himself faltering. If he failed now, there would be no recovery. No second chance.

  Stopping now was death.

  Desperate he reached throughout his entire being for something, anything, that would keep him strong.

  It felt like the old Elder Han reached up in response to his desperate summons.

  Words spilled from his lips - ancient, inevitable and deeply familiar. As if that part of him was simply reminding him of a familiar truth.

  “Everything changes - the heavens, the hells, the worlds, the sky. To cease to change is to cease to be.”

  The First Mark of Existence as taught to him by his master so long ago. It reverberated through his bones, its truth resonating deep within. The lotus’s energy shifted, ever so slightly.

  He gasped - his first breath in who knows how long. And he pressed on.

  “Attachment is suffering, but life without attachment is not life.”

  The Second Mark of Existence, and pain erupted anew, white-hot and blinding - yet the lotus’s essence bound itself to him deeper, weaving into his core like roots through stone.

  “The self is an illusion, I am and I am not.”

  The Third Mark of Existence echoed through his being and something deep inside him shattered.

  Whatever it was that had broken, he felt his own energies shift this time. It felt like a barrier had broken down between himself and the lotus’ energy, as if a dam had burst inside him allowing the energy to truly flow for the first time.

  His own nature had changed. Just slightly. The tiniest amount. But enough that the foreign energy inside him no longer felt like poison.

  A heartbeat. A breath.

  Han Wei opened his eyes.

  Then - he opened his senses.