The unrelenting heat of noon pressed down over the bloodstained hilltop, illuminating the quiet burial site beneath the hilltop tree. The air was heavy with silence, the scent of turned earth mingling with dew. Hui's resting place stood still and solemn beneath the carved words etched into the bark, a quiet monument to a bond that even death could not erase.

  But there was no time left to mourn.

  Feiyin stood with his arms crossed, his gaze locked on the fading fading overhead, as the wind brushed past them like a whisper of everything they lost. Behind him, the others lingered in silence, their faces drawn with exhaustion and grief.

  They had killed a third-class outer disciple. The white-robed Shin, known and feared. And Kui Long, a subordinate of a powerful backer within the Joyful Union Branch. Their blood had barely dried beneath the tree.

  Feiyin exhaled slowly. "We can’t stay here."

  Ren looked up from where he had been seated on a stone, rubbing his temple. "You want to leave already? Hui’s... she’s just—"

  "We have no choice," Feiyin said, turning toward them. His voice held no edge, only firm clarity. "We killed a ranked disciple. If we stay as menial disciples, we’ll be executed for it. But if we pass the branch trials, we become outer disciples ourselves."

  Shen Mu nodded, his face pale but resolute. "And outer disciples can’t be punished by the sect for fighting other outer disciples."

  "Exactly." Feiyin’s eyes were tired but focused. "The sect only cares about strength and results. So long as we don’t damage its interests, it turns a blind eye."

  Yue stood quietly, hugging her arms around herself. Her eyes were still puffy and red. "It just feels wrong to leave like this. She’s gone, and we’re splitting up on the same day."

  Feiyin walked over to her, placing a steady hand on her shoulder. "I know. It’s not fair. It’s not right. But if we want any chance of surviving in this place, we can’t delay. Hui would’ve wanted us to live. She always made sure we had enough food, enough strength... enough warmth. She wouldn’t want that to go to waste."

  A beat of silence passed.

  Yue closed her eyes and nodded.

  Ren muttered, half to himself, "Didn’t you want to open your last two meridians first?"

  Feiyin gave a faint smile. "I did. I still plan to. But I’ll finish it in the Saint Alchemy Branch. I’ve come too far to let a bottleneck decide my fate."

  The wind blew again, rustling the tree leaves above Hui’s grave.

  "Then... what do we do now?" Shen Mu asked, his voice quiet.

  Feiyin looked at each of them in turn. "We make a promise. Right here. Right now. That we’ll keep growing. That we’ll rise through the disciple ranks. That we’ll survive—no matter what. Until we can come back here. Together."

  Ren’s lips pressed into a tight line. Then he nodded. "Deal. I’m not dying until I’ve pissed on Feng Liu’s grave."

  Yue let out a breath that was half a sob, half a laugh. "I promise. We’ll meet again. Stronger."

  Shen Mu pulled something from his belt and placed it gently at the base of Hui’s grave—a small wooden spoon she had once carved for tasting sauces. "I’ll make them pay, Hui. And I’ll be alive to see it."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Feiyin stepped back and gave a deep bow to the grave. "We’ll come back. Not as the same people we are now. But stronger, wiser. And when we do—we’ll be in a position where no one can touch us again."

  Then, without another word, they turned.

  The sect’s mountain range loomed in the distance—a series of jagged stone giants veiled in early morning mist. The menial disciple grounds had always been at the base of the outer cliffs, far from the true heart of the sect. But today, they would leave the outskirts behind.

  After fetching Bai Yu from his bed, Feiyin led them down the path, their steps falling heavy with lingering grief as they entered the dense forest. The towering pines formed a canopy that filtered the noon light into streaks of gold and shadow. Here, the air shifted—cooler, damper, laced with the scent of moss and earth, far removed from the dry heat that baked the menial disciples ground. It was as if they were passing through a threshold, leaving behind not just Hui’s grave, but a chapter of their lives.

  As they climbed higher, the air thinned gradually, each breath carrying a sharper edge. The forest grew quieter with every step, the calls of birds fading, replaced by the occasional rustle of unseen things moving among the underbrush. A faint sense of anticipation began to bloom in their chests, each of them feeling it differently—apprehension, determination, the quiet murmur of destiny approaching.

  The trail narrowed as it rose, winding through natural stone arches and along ridges that overlooked steep drops into misty valleys below. Despite their silence, they could feel the pulse of the mountain underfoot, ancient and unyielding.

  Finally, the path split.

  At the fork, they slowed to a halt. On one side, a path descended gently through a corridor of tall, silent trees, their bark pale as bone and their leaves whispering with secrets. The air was thick with mist, hanging low and shimmering like moonlight, though the sun still beat above—the path to the Saint Spirit Branch. Ren placed a hand on Feiyin’s shoulder, his usual smirk absent. "Don’t get killed before we meet again."

  Feiyin gave him a half-smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Only if you promise the same."

  Yue stepped forward, surprising Ren with a sudden hug. She buried her face in his shoulder for a brief moment. "You better come back in one piece. I’ll kill you myself if you don’t."

  Ren chuckled, though the sound was thin. "Wouldn’t dream of giving you the satisfaction."

  Shen Mu offered Ren a nod, then reached out to clasp his arm. "Don’t forget what we’re doing this for. Keep your head, keep your heart—and make it count."

  Ren grinned faintly, glancing at them all. "Alright then... let’s see who climbs the ranks faster. Whoever ends up highest owes the rest a feast."

  Feiyin nodded. "Deal. And you’re cooking. Hui would’ve wanted that much."

  On the opposite side, broad steps of stone curved upward along a terraced ridge where crystal-clear waterfalls cascaded between natural platforms. The air was humid, heavy with the scent of wet stone and flowering moss, and each level of the ridge pulsed faintly with a primal energy. It was a place for bodies honed to perfection, where strength was carved as much from will as it was from bone—the Saint Body Branch. Yue gave Feiyin one last look, then without hesitation, pulled both him and Shen Mu into a tight embrace. Her arms trembled as she held them close. "You’re both too stubborn for your own good. Don’t do anything reckless. Promise me."

  Feiyin gently returned the hug, his hand resting lightly on her back. "We’ll be fine. Just don’t let the Saint Body Branch turn you into a boulder."

  Shen Mu let out a faint breath of laughter, then added, "And don’t get used to being the strongest without us around."

  Yue managed a teary smile as she stepped back. "No promises."

  Farther along, the trail narrowed into a quiet corridor veiled by wisps of pale smoke and the sharp tang of herbs. The stone walls flanking the entrance were warm to the touch. There was no noise—only the faint hum of energy and the slow, pulsing breath of fire beneath the mountain—the path to the Saint Alchemy Branch. That was Feiyin and Shen Mu’s destination.

  And near a shallow valley cloaked in shadows, a wild, winding trail led through tangled roots and vibrant, oversized flora. The trees stood taller and stranger here, and hidden among their branches were luminous eyes and clicking beaks—beasts that watched without blinking. The air here was thick, instinctual, filled with the unspoken language of creatures who obeyed only those strong enough to earn their respect—the Beast Taming Branch. Yue’s final glance was toward that valley.

  They stood in silence.

  Then they each turned and walked.

  The group that had once shared meals, laughter, and hardship beneath the same roof now split, each path leading them into the heart of the sect, toward unknown futures.

  The mountain range swallowed them, one by one.

  And above them, the wind whispered through the leaves of a lone tree on a hill, where a grave stood facing the sunset.