Within the quiet, heavily warded private office of the Wang Estate, the contract of the White Lotus Mining Initiative lay signed on the desk. Wang Zheng was just raising his tea cup, preparing to discuss the logistics of the mining initiative, when the heavy wooden doors of the office were violently pushed open.
"Young Master, please! You must not move!"
A panicked voice of a senior healer echoed down the hallway. A moment later, a figure stumbled into the room, gasping for breath.\
It was Wang Tian.
The young master was in a horrifying state. Wrapped in thick, blood-stained bandages, his face pale and limbs trembling, he had torn away the medical wraps holding his herbs in stasis. Pushing past the healers trailing behind him, he dragged his broken body across the polished wooden floor of the office, leaving a faint trail of crimson.
"Tian'er!" Wang Zheng gasped, his face turning pale. He rushed forward to support his son.
"What are you doing? You are in no condition to leave your bed!"
Ignoring his father's hands, Wang Tian focused entirely on Su Ming. With a final, agonizing exertion of will, he dropped onto both knees in the center of the office, lowering his forehead until it pressed flat against the cold floor.
"This junior, Wang Tian, pays respects to Peak Master Su," his voice was hoarse, yet it vibrated with a stubborn, unyielding pride.
"You punished that evil demonic cultivator Lin Fan, saving the fate of my Wang Clan and the entire Greenwall City. I feel deeply ashamed. It should have been my own sword that brought justice to my family and protected our city. Instead, I lay helpless while Senior bore the burden of our salvation. I refuse to hide in bed when I must personally pay my respects to my savior."
*Clang.*
Wang Zheng stood frozen, his hand shaking. The jade tea cup slipped from his fingers, shattering on the floor. Hot tea splashed across the rug and his boots, but the Patriarch didn't even blink. He stared down at his proud, crippled son kneeling in the dirt, his heart breaking at the sight.
"Tian'er..." Wang Zheng whispered, his voice caught in his throat.
Su Ming watched the kneeling youth, a silent trace of appreciation for the boy's grit flickering behind his calm, analysing eyes. It was easy to maintain pride when one was a genius, but to drag a shattered body from a sickbed to claim that pride in front of him was another matter entirely.
Deep within his soul, the Twilight Nether Lantern reacted. The microscopic drop of Samsara Resin harvested from Lin Fan's path in the Withered Valley dissolved, spreading a warm, clear sensation through his mind.
His Essence Sight flared, and the Lantern's Halo of Insight projected a fragmented vision of Wang Tian's internal structure.
He saw the destroyed dantian. Wang Tian had been a Foundation Establishment cultivator before, but his shattered dantian was held in some invisible and quiet harmony, yet it felt strangely incomplete.
It was as if it was almost there, but something crucial was missing. Within this ruined space, faint, incomplete spiritual lines were beginning to form, resonating with a deep, dormant sword rhythm within his very marrow.
'Something akin to a forged sword physique...'
The realization crystallized in Su Ming's mind.
It was the precursor to the Shattered Sword Physique, a legendary Sword Physique from the annals of history, which could only be built from the absolute ruin of a dantian. It was currently incomplete, waiting for the missing pieces to come together and forge itself.
Su Ming looked down at the kneeling youth. He had already formed a successful bond with the Wangs, but Wang Tian's seemingly useless talent was not the end. If Su Ming could help him regain his cultivation, he would gain both his and the clan's absolute loyalty.
So he decided. Even if it turned out badly, how bad could it be?
"I cannot promise to restore your dantian or your meridians. I cannot even promise you ordinary cultivation, nor the glamour of a typical genius."
Wang Tian was confused as he looked up, and he kept his head raised, his gaze locking onto Su Ming's with absolute refusal to submit.
"However, if you wish to walk a different path," Su Ming said, his voice echoing in the quiet office. "I will take you as my disciple. I promise you this in the name of White Lotus Peak. It is humble, not among the nine main peaks of the Heavenly Cloud Sect, but it is a place where we forge our own destiny."
Wang Tian did not wait. The fading spark in his eyes suddenly reignited with a fierce, burning light. He bowed his head to the floor once more, his forehead striking the wood with a clear, resonant sound.
"Disciple Wang Tian pays respects to Master! I will not disappoint Master's promise!"
"Good," Su Ming said.
"In a month's time, when you are in better condition and the sect competition is over, come and visit me there," he said, handing him a wooden token of White Lotus Peak. "We will make it official then."
"But for now, rest and let the healers stabilize your body."
Wang Tian bowed.
As the healers lifted the exhausted youth to carry him back, Wang Zheng turned to Su Ming, knelt, and bowed deeply.
"Peak Master Su, your grace is as vast as the heavens. To take my crippled son under your wing... we can never repay this. Please follow me. There is something I must offer you. Tian'er, come with us as well."
He gestured the elder to carry the young master along, leading Su Ming and Lin Yao behind a hidden bookshelf. Activating a concealed formation, the stone wall ground open, revealing a downward staircase lit by faint luminescent pearls.
They descended, the air growing colder and denser.
At the bottom, inside the family's deepest vault, a sealed jade box sat on a stone altar. Carved from dark jade, it was freezing to the touch and decorated with patterns of miniature swords pointing toward a star—ancient stances long lost to memory.
"For thousands of years, our ancestors preserved this box," Wang Zheng said quietly.
"Fragmented records hint we were once a branch of a powerful clan, but none of us has ever been able to open it. It only reacts to our bloodline with a faint glow, but remains sealed."
Wang Zheng turned to Su Ming. "I offer this box to you, Peak Master Su, for taking Tian'er as your disciple. Whatever secrets it contains, they are yours."
Su Ming stepped forward. He did not touch the box, but let his Essence Sight sweep over it.
Deep within his soul, the Twilight Nether Lantern flared, its quiet flame dancing with sudden, intense recognition.
'This isn't just an ordinary thing,' Su Ming realized, parsing the ancient spiritual lines. 'It is some sort of a key.'
Through the Lantern's guidance and his own knowledge of the lore, he realized this box was a key that needed to meet specific conditions to be used.
Su Ming turned to Wang Zheng.
"I will take it," Su Ming paused. "But Patriarch, this box ultimately belongs to Wang Tian. I will study it, but when his path is forged and he is ready, it will return to his hands."
Wang Zheng looked at Su Ming, his heart swelling with respect. To accept a crippled disciple and then refuse to steal his ancestral legacy, such a character was rarer than True Immortals in the cultivation world.
"Peak Master Su's integrity is unmatched," Wang Zheng said, bowing so low his chest almost touched his knees. "Our clan is honored to align with White Lotus Peak."
Su Ming placed the cold jade box into his spatial ring, nodding calmly. "Let us return."
They ascended to the surface.
***
Meanwhile, in a damp, lightless stone cell beneath the main Wang Estate, Lin Fan hung from the wall. Bound in heavy, rune-inscribed suppression shackles, his breathing was shallow, his face pale in the air smelling of mold and dried blood.
He was entirely unconscious.
But a terrifying mutation was continuing deep within his flesh. The scattered death qi from the formation, the survival instincts of the Heaven-Stealing Cauldron Art, and the residual dragon blood energy were stitching themselves directly into his marrow. Without a dantian, his physical body was becoming the vessel. His bones were turning metallic black, his cells rewritten to act as an organic furnace. The Heaven's chosen's path was interrupted, but his fate refused to let him die, warping him into something far more dangerous to overcome his current predicament.
***
The morning sun crested over the horizon, casting a warm, golden light across the bustling streets of Greenwall City. The gates were just opening, the guards yawning as they watched the first merchants pass through.
Su Ming and Lin Yao walked toward the city gates with steady, unhurried steps, their business concluded.
Su Ming felt a profound sense of satisfaction. The mission had been an overwhelming success. He had stopped a heaven's chosen's trajectory, obtained resources from the said protagonist, avoided conflict, secured the Wang family's secret heirloom, accepted a disciple with a unique sword physique, and established a passive revenue stream.
"Master," Lin Yao said as they stepped onto the dirt path leading back toward the sect. "That boy in the valley..."
Su Ming didn't let her finish. He spoke.
"There are many predators in this world, Lin Yao," Su Ming replied calmly, looking toward the distant peaks of the Heavenly Cloud Sect. "Some wear the faces of righteous heroes. Some hide behind tragic backstories."
Lin Yao was silent for a moment. "So what do we do?"
"We ensure they never get the chance to be the protagonist of our story," Su Ming said.
"In the cultivation world, talent is volatile. Today it can be there, tomorrow it can be taken away. But what cannot be taken is our path, the path that we walk, the path that we must follow in your journey to the peak of cultivation. The sheer will to survive and execute one's path when all external resources are cut off is what makes someone great."
"Wang Tian possesses that. That is why I accepted him. And soon he will join our White Lotus Peak and become your junior brother."
He smiled faintly, the morning light catching the cold, analytical glint in his eyes. "Now, let's go home. We have a peak to rebuild."