"One of our ancestors residing in the back mountains has watched your performance. He has sent this jade slip to be delivered to you through my hands. Both you and your disciple have reached the perfection stage of the Cloud Chasing Sword and received the qualifications to learn this."
"You should know that the Cloud Chasing Sword is actually the simplified, foundational form of our sect's Saint-level sword inheritance. The Sky Sovereign Sword Technique. This contains the first volume, passed down from the ancestor himself. Cultivate it well, but do not speak of his existence to others."
Su Ming's eyes narrowed slightly, accepting the second slip with a deep bow.
"Furthermore," Jun Tianya continued, his tone turning heavy. "With White Lotus Peak officially restored, you must take up your duties as a Peak Master. You will have to attend the sect councils, handle the resource paperwork, and guide disciples on missions. We need results."
He looked toward the high windows, his eyes filled with a rare trace of gravity. "Our Heavenly Cloud Sect urgently needs more Saint-rank powerhouses. We must build our strength before the storm hits."
Su Ming picked up the two jade slips, feeling their cool weight. He stood up and bowed deeply, his hands cupped. "White Lotus Peak will not disappoint the Sect Master."
"Go," Jun Tianya waved his sleeve gently.
Su Ming bowed and turned back to walk out of the chamber, his white robes rustling as the heavy wooden doors slowly closed behind him.
Inside the quiet room, the steam from the tea kettle rose in silent curls. Sect Master Jun Tianya sat still for a long moment, the warmth in his eyes completely vanishing, replaced by a deep, ancient coldness.
He turned his head toward the dark corner of the room, where the shadow of a grand folding screen rested in complete silence.
"So, Uncle," Jun Tianya said quietly to the apparently empty space. "What do you think?"
***
The small flying boat glided through the sea of clouds, its wooden hull vibrating gently as it cleared the boundary arrays of the core mountain range. Lin Yao sat in the bow of the vessel with her hands resting on the sheathed Cold Abyss Sword across her lap. The dark, iron scabbard radiated a visible, freezing mist, slowly coating her fingers in a thin layer of white frost. She did not flinch or pull away, quietly guiding a thread of her black Nether Flame to harmonize with the blade's aggressive chill, absorbing the cold to temper her own flame Qi.
Su Ming sat at the wooden table in the middle of the boat, his gaze fixed on two jade slips—one a grey jade slip containing the High-Mystic rank Myriad Soul Origin Scripture to temper his turbulent soul, the other a translucent blue first volume of the Sky Sovereign Sword Technique.
Sect Master Jun Tianya had bestowed these manuals to show favor, but they carried heavy expectations. The scripture was profound, but dangerous; one wrong rotation of his spiritual sense could fracture his sanity. Pocketing them, he decided to visit Illusion Moon Peak soon. But first, he had to check on his peak's new resident.
The boat landed on the secondary plaza of White Lotus Peak, where three Golden Qilin Peak deacons stood waiting beside lacquered chests. The moment Su Ming stepped off, the lead deacon bowed deeply. "Peak Master Su, the Sect Master's back-allocated spirit stones, peak master robes, and requested medical manuals have been delivered in full."
The deacon paused, glancing toward the secondary courtyard with lingering bewilderment. "Also... one youth from the Greenwall City's Wang family has arrived. Despite his poor conditions, he insisted on climbing the ten thousand stone steps entirely on foot. It took him two full days and nights of crawling up the path. He collapsed from exhaustion at the summit last night, refusing medical aid until he saw you."
Su Ming thanked them, and the deacons departed swiftly, wary after his unarmed victory over Li Heng. Lin Yao carried the chests toward the main hall, while Su Ming walked toward the guest pavilion.
'So he arrived during the tournament,' Su Ming realized as he crossed the courtyard. With the entire sect focused on the grand arena, the outer gate guards had been stretched thin. When the carriage from Greenwall City arrived, they had simply checked the White Lotus Peak token he had given the boy, registered his entry, and waved him through without sending a formal notification.
Wang Tian stood waiting by the pavilion pillars, his posture straight despite his trembling, sweat-soaked legs and chapped lips.
"Disciple Wang Tian greets Master," he said, bowing deeply.
"Get up," Su Ming walked over. "For now, settle on the White Lotus Peak and take rest. You are in no condition to push your body like that... Until then, slowly build your physical strength."
Wang Tian straightened slowly, his teeth gritted against the sudden cramp in his calves. His face was pale, his breath rattling in his throat, but his eyes remained stubbornly fixed on Su Ming.
Su Ming did not speak immediately. He focused his gaze, letting his vision slip into the familiar gray spectrum of Essence Sight.
'A high-grade healing elixir,' Su Ming analyzed, the Halo of Insight highlighting the glowing medicine in the boy's veins. 'Patriarch Wang must have paid an exorbitant price to obtain a medicine of that grade, hoping to speed up his recovery. But he did not wait for the medicine to settle.
He has worsened his own condition by at least by twenty percent.
Closing his Essence Sight, Su Ming looked at the boy's hands. They were calloused in specific patterns—worn patches along the index fingers and the base of the palms.
"You have held a real blade before," Su Ming noted, his voice flat. "Your posture is good. You are not starting from scratch."
Wang Tian looked down at his bruised palms, a look of quiet shame crossing his face. "I learned the Wang family's sword techniques since I was five. Before my dantian was shattered, I practiced the Iron-Crossing Sword Art."
"What rank?"
"A middle-level mortal rank technique," Wang Tian murmured. "It is simple, focusing mostly on heavy downward strikes and defensive blocks. But without Qi, I cannot channel the force. My strikes are... nothing but empty swings now."
Su Ming reached into his wide sleeve and withdrew a simple, bound paper scroll. He held it out to the boy.
"The Cloud Chasing Sword Technique," Su Ming said. "A foundational sword technique of the disciples in the Heavenly Cloud Sect."
Wang Tian accepted the scroll with trembling hands, his fingers tracing the ink characters on the cover. He looked up, his eyes wide with a mix of hope and confusion. "Master... even without Qi, I can practice this? An ordinary mortal can touch a sect's technique?"
"The sword begins with the hand, not the Qi," Su Ming replied. Stepping back, he drew the Crimson Heaven Sword and executed a silent, fluid downward slash. The tip stopped precisely three inches above the stone plaza, perfectly still.
"Master the precision. Rely on your bones and your grip. Lin Yao, show him to his quarters."
***
Ten days went by in a blur of quiet routine. Every morning, the sound of wooden slashes echoed from the training yard as Wang Tian practiced his swings with unyielding determination, his robes soaked in sweat.
Su Ming spent those days in seclusion in his study. With his Essence Sight and the Halo of Insight active, he read through the medical manuals at lightning speed. To create a reconstruction blueprint, he mapped and compared the meridians of three subjects: himself, Lin Yao, and Wang Tian.
He spent hours tracing these to compile a detailed comparative template.
Yet on the tenth day, Su Ming closed the final manual with a frown. 'These texts are far too basic,' he thought.
'They contain standard formulas for clearing minor Qi blockages and external wounds. There is no concept of deep anatomical reconstruction. Perhaps the core medical inheritances are kept under lock by the Medicine Peak and not distributed. In any case, these public manuals will not suffice.'
He needed to visit the Medicine Hall to consult Elder Lu and check on the two travelers they rescued. Putting on his formal Peak Master robes of white silk and silver lotuses, he descended the mountain steps.
As he approached the Medicine Hall, disciples cleared the path, bowing with hushed reverence; news of Li Heng's unarmed defeat had spread through the sect. A deacon hurriedly led him to the conservatory courtyard, where Elder Lu stood near a patch of Qi-Nurturing Grass and offered a salute. "Peak Master Su. Have you finished reading the basic medical texts?"
"I have," Su Ming returned the salute. "But they lack the depth I seek. So I came to consult you for more advanced records."
Elder Lu chuckled. "A sword Peak Master seeking to master medicine is unusual. But medical cultivation is a path of tedious observation."
"True," Su Ming replied. "Additionally, I wanted to check on the recovery of the two travelers I brought back. Have they shown signs of waking up?"
Lu's smile faded. "Their physical wounds are closing well, and the internal damage is no longer a threat. They are reacting well to the medicine, and their physical state has stabilized. However, their consciousness remains locked in deep slumber. The strain they endured was severe, and it will take some time for them to recover."