"Another day, another zero recruits," Alexei muttered, watching the city lights begin to glow as evening settled over Verdantree City.
He'd expected it, but disappointment was hard to avoid.
Qingxue was still absorbed in whatever she was reading, same as she'd been since early morning. She'd barely looked up all day, and every so often, he'd catch her cheeks flushing slightly behind her veil.
That was suspicious, extremely suspicious.
What kind of book could hold the attention of someone as normally reserved as Qingxue for an entire day? And more importantly, what kind of book made her blush?
He could rule out cultivation manuals immediately. Nobody got embarrassed reading about meridian circulation techniques. Which meant it was either something personal, or something embarrassing.
His curiosity was killing him.
"So," he said casually, not looking directly at her. "What're you reading?"
"A book," Qingxue replied, a bit too quickly.
"What kind of book?"
"A cultivation book."
"Uh-huh. Must be a really interesting cultivation book. You've been reading it for like eight hours straight."
She turned a page without responding.
Alexei leaned slightly to the side, trying to catch a glimpse of the cover. Qingxue immediately angled the book away from him, which only made him more curious.
"Come on. You can't just sit there all day reading something mysterious and expect me not to ask questions. Is it secret techniques? Forbidden arts? A—"
"It's about teaching disciples," Qingxue said firmly, cutting him off.
He blinked. "Teaching disciples."
"Yes."
"Like... a manual for being a master?"
"Something like that."
That actually made sense. Qingxue had taken him on as a disciple without any prior experience. Of course she'd want to learn the proper procedures, the traditional methods, the...
Wait.
"Why are you blushing if it's just a teaching manual?"
"I'm not blushing."
"You're definitely blushing. I can see it even with the veil."
"The book has some unconventional perspectives on the master-disciple relationship," she admitted, her voice getting quieter. "Some of the examples are highly inappropriate."
"Inappropriate how?"
"Just inappropriate."
"Like 'shouldn't do this' inappropriate, or 'this escalated weirdly' inappropriate?"
Qingxue was silent for a moment, then said, very quietly, "The latter."
Alexei stared at her.
"Did you accidentally buy cultivation world romance novels?"
"They were labeled as instructional materials!"
"How many did you buy?"
"...Five."
"And how many of them are actually instructional?"
Another pause.
"Parts of them are instructional," she said defensively. "The first few chapters are very educational. They discuss proper etiquette, appropriate boundaries, methods of encouragement..."
"And then?"
"And then the boundaries become less appropriate."
Alexei couldn't help it. He started laughing.
"It's not funny!" Qingxue protested. "The shopkeeper said they were the definitive guides to master-disciple relationships! He was very insistent!"
"I bet he was. What are the titles?"
"I'm not telling you the titles."
"Come on."
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
He gave up on that avenue and instead asked, "So wait, if they're inappropriate, why are you still reading them?"
Qingxue was quiet for a long moment.
"They're... compelling," she finally admitted. "In a horrifying sort of way. Like watching a cart accident. You know you should look away but you can't."
"That's the worst justification I've ever heard."
"I'm learning what not to do," she insisted. "That's educational in itself."
"Sure. Keep telling yourself that."
Before she could respond, a new voice interrupted them.
"Excuse me... is your sect still accepting disciples?"
Both of them turned toward the source.
Standing at their booth was a girl who looked about seven or eight years old, with dark hair pulled back into a simple braid. Beside her stood a woman in red robes who was clearly her mother. They shared the same facial structure and a similar bearing, although the older woman carried herself with the confidence of someone used to getting her way.
Alexei immediately perked up. Finally, an actual prospect.
He straightened in his seat, trying to look professional and not like he'd just been laughing at Qingxue's terrible taste in literature. The fox, which had been napping on his head, chittered in sleepy annoyance at the sudden movement but didn't wake up.
"We are," he said, gesturing to the qi-sensing stone on the table. "Would you like to test your aptitude?"
The girl glanced at her mother, who nodded encouragingly. She stepped forward and reached for the stone.
Her hand was barely an inch away when he noticed the stone beginning to wobble near the edge of the table. The table's broken leg struck again. He lunged forward to steady it.
The girl's hand made contact at the same moment.
The stone flared red.
Alexei stared.
Qingxue stared.
Even the mother looked surprised, which suggested she hadn't expected this result.
"Is that..." Alexei started, then stopped, because he realized he had no idea what different colors meant beyond "you have a spirit root" or "you don't."
Quan had explained the basic principle, but he'd never gone into specifics about what pure colors versus mixed colors signified.
Qingxue, fortunately, knew exactly what it meant.
"A pure fire spirit root," she said quietly, and there was genuine surprise in her voice. "Single-element, high clarity. That's extremely rare."
The girl pulled her hand back, looking between them uncertainly. "Is that good?"
"Good?" Alexei managed to shake off his shock. "That's better than good. That's the kind of talent that first-rank sects fight over."
Which immediately made him wonder: why was someone with this level of talent at their booth?
Most families who brought children to the recruitment ceremony had already done preliminary testing. They knew roughly what tier their kids were in. Someone with a pure elemental root should be aiming for top-tier sects, not...
He glanced at their sad little setup.
The mother seemed to understand what he was thinking.
"We've already visited several other sects. None of them felt right."
In other words, none of them had made offers she found acceptable.
Which was interesting. A pure fire root should have sects falling over themselves with generous offers. The fact that this woman had walked away from multiple recruitment booths suggested she was either very picky or shrewd.
Qingxue had already pulled a scroll from her sleeve. It was the sect registration document, and she spread it across the table with practiced movements.
"If you choose to join Aureate Summit Sect," she said formally, "you would write your name here. This contract binds both parties. The sect commits to providing housing, training, and resources for a minimum of ten years. In return, you commit to serving the sect's interests and following its rules for that same period."
---
The woman opened her mouth as if to speak, then stopped. As a Qi Refining cultivator, she understood perfectly what the color change in the qi-sensing stone meant.
A pure single-element spirit root.
The mark of genuine talent.
First or second-rank sects would accept her without question. Even ordinary third-rank sects would fight over someone with this level of aptitude.
She wanted to negotiate, to ask about terms and benefits and what exactly this sect could offer. But something held her back.
The veiled woman had a cold aura that made casual conversation feel impossible. She looked like someone who would respond to negotiations with a flat stare and nothing else. The young man beside her, on the other hand, seemed more approachable.
Before she could formulate her question, the girl spoke up.
"I've decided," she said with surprising firmness for someone so young. "I want to join this sect."
"Mengyao, wait..." the woman started, but the girl had already grabbed the brush from the table.
She had to stand on her tiptoes to reach the scroll properly. Her hand gripped the brush, and she began writing her name.
Yi Mengyao.
The moment the final stroke was complete, the red ink flashed with golden light and transformed into dark gold letters.
The disciple contract was official.
Alexei felt a small surge of triumph. It was their first recruit after a full week of sitting at the pathetic booth and watching people pass by with expressions ranging from dismissive to openly contemptuous. They had finally recruited someone.
And not just anyone, someone with a pure fire spirit root.
Qingxue picked up the scroll and examined it, her eyebrows rising slightly behind her veil.
"Yi Mengyao," she read aloud. "Your calligraphy is excellent. Very mature for your age."
Mengyao smiled slightly but didn't respond.
Qingxue's gaze shifted briefly to Alexei, and he could feel the unspoken comparison: Unlike a certain someone who can barely write legibly.
He resisted the urge to protest. His handwriting was fine. It just wasn't fancy.
The woman in red let out a quiet sigh. Now that the contract was signed, there was no backing out for ten years. The binding was absolute.
Qingxue produced a token from her sleeve. It looked ancient, carved from dark wood, with a single symbol engraved on its surface. The mark represented Aureate Summit.
"Keep this with you," she said, offering it to Mengyao. "When the recruitment ceremony ends, we'll come to collect you and bring you to the sect. Of course, if you prefer to leave with us now, that's also acceptable. The choice is yours."
Mengyao glanced at the woman beside her.
In her previous life, she would have left immediately. Why wait? Why waste time?
But this life was different. She'd spent the past two weeks with Hongyan.
"I'd like to stay until the ceremony ends," she said finally. "If that's acceptable."
Hongyan reached down and took Mengyao's hand, squeezing it gently.
"Of course that's acceptable," Qingxue said. "We'll find you when the time comes."
---
The walk back to Steadyroot Company was quiet.
Hongyan held Mengyao's hand, her thoughts tangled and complicated. On one hand, the girl trusted her more than she had expected and chose to stay by her side instead of leaving immediately with her new sect. It was genuinely touching.
On the other hand, she was deeply dissatisfied with the Aureate Summit Sect's arrangement. The booth was shabby, the location was remote, and there was no real presentation to speak of. Even so, Mengyao had insisted with absolute certainty that this was where she wanted to be.
They'd spent three days wandering the recruitment area, passing dozens of other booths with better setups and reputations. Mengyao had looked at each one, considered, and moved on. Then she'd seen Aureate Summit's pathetic table and made her decision instantly.
She didn't understand it.
Ah well, she thought. It's only ten years. If things don't work out, I can have that brat pull some strings and get her into his sect instead. With a fire spirit root, even a fifth-rank sect would take her in a heartbeat.
She didn't voice any of this aloud. Mengyao seemed content with her choice, and that would have to be enough for now.
----------
[POV: Yi Mengyao]
Mengyao kept her expression neutral as they walked, but internally, she was satisfied. Her choice had been impulsive, yes. Made in the moment without extensive deliberation.
But it hadn't been random.
In her previous life, the Aureate Summit Sect had been exactly like this. It was obscure, unremarkable, and easy to overlook.
For years, it remained that way. It was little more than a footnote in the Eastern Territories' cultivation world, a sect so low-profile that most cultivators forgot it even existed.
Until everything changed.
One hundred years later, or rather one hundred years in her previous timeline, the sect master of Aureate Summit revealed the sect's true strength. He was a Tribulation Transcendence cultivator.
He'd led three other Tribulation Transcendence elders and three Dharma Aspect elders in an assault that had completely annihilated the Ghost Sect, a demonic organization that had terrorized the Eastern Territories for decades with impunity.
It hadn't been a close battle. It had been an execution.
The Ghost Sect's headquarters, located in a naturally corrupted yin-aspected region known as the Shadowlands, had been transformed into a yang-aspected land through talismans and formations deployed by a scholar in white robes. The very geography had been rewritten through sheer force.
More than thirteen thousand members of the Ghost Sect had been sealed within barriers and left to die. Not a single one escaped. Even their secular influence had been uprooted by three Nascent Soul disciples from Aureate Summit.
After that, both sects had vanished from public view. No more Ghost Sect, obviously. They'd been erased. But also no more Aureate Summit Sect announcements.
They'd just gone back to being obscure.
The revelation of their strength had sent shockwaves through the cultivation world. Cultivators near Verdantree City had beaten their chests in regret, lamenting that they'd missed the opportunity to join such a powerful sect when it had been recruiting.
Four Tribulation Transcendence experts and three peak Dharma Aspect cultivators represented combat strength that exceeded most first-rank sects. And they'd only had three disciples total, all of whom had reached at least mid-stage Nascent Soul despite coming from completely ordinary backgrounds.
Those cultivators who'd previously left Aureate Summit to join other sects, and then badmouthed it to justify their decision, had rushed forward to "clarify misunderstandings" and "apologize for past mistakes," hoping to be allowed back in.
Nothing had come of it. Aureate Summit had ignored them all.
As for why the sect had destroyed Ghost Sect? Nobody knew. Theories abounded, but concrete information was nonexistent. Aureate Summit maintained such a low profile that even after accomplishing something that significant, the broader cultivation world knew almost nothing about them.
In her previous life, when Mengyao had first heard about the Ghost Sect's destruction, she'd been on the verge of a breakthrough and had barely paid attention. Just another piece of cultivation world news, quickly overshadowed by the opening of a secret realm a few days later.
That secret realm. The place where her trusted martial brothers and sisters had betrayed her, ambushing her during an expedition and leaving her for dead.
Her body had died. Her soul had been forcibly extracted and trapped by a technique, left to wander for more than two hundred years in a state of helpless semi-consciousness before finally managing to reincarnate into this new body.
But that was the past. This was a new life. A chance to do things differently. And Aureate Summit Sect was exactly what she needed.
----------
[POV: Qin Zhengxing]
Several hundred kilometers away, in a small cultivation chamber within a rented building, Zhengxing sneezed violently.
"Huh?" He rubbed his face, which felt oddly warm. "Am I getting sick? Can cultivators even get sick anymore?"
He shook off the thought and picked up the bucket of milk that Qingxue had given him before leaving for the recruitment ceremony.
This was the critical moment of his breakthrough, the transformation of his Golden Core into a Nascent Soul. The process demanded focus and could not be interrupted by something as mundane as catching a cold.
He had spent weeks preparing, gathering materials, meditating, and refining his understanding of the Dao of Alchemy. Everything was ready.
Everything except the final push, the insight that would let him take that last step.
He raised the bucket to his lips and drank deeply, expecting the milk to provide some minor boost to his spiritual energy, maybe help clear his mind.
What happened instead shocked.
The milk didn't just enter his stomach. It seemed to dissolve into pure energy, spreading through his entire body like a gentle breeze flowing through his meridians.
Old injuries from decades of cultivation, healed.
Clogged spiritual meridians from improper pill consumption. cleared.
Residual toxins from using lower-quality alchemical ingredients, purged.
His senses sharpened to a degree he'd never experienced. Colors became brighter, sounds more distinct, even his thoughts felt clearer and more organized.
And most importantly, the breakthrough that had eluded him for years suddenly became visible. The path forward, the method of transforming his Golden Core into a Nascent Soul, revealed itself like a map unfolding in his mind.
"What was in this?" he whispered, staring at the bucket in his hands.
Whatever it was, Qingxue had given him something extraordinary.
The breakthrough to Nascent Soul wasn't just possible anymore. It was inevitable.
He set the bucket down, settled into meditation position, and began the process with a grin spreading across his face.
----------
After successfully recruiting their first disciple, Alexei and Qingxue decided to stay at the booth a bit longer, hoping lightning might strike twice.
It didn't.
They sat there until the moon was high in the sky and the streets had mostly emptied before finally giving up and heading back to the inn.
Quan and Yan still hadn't returned, which wasn't surprising. Quan had mentioned he'd be back around noon tomorrow after finishing the sect registration paperwork. Yan would take longer, probably four or five days total.
The Alchemy Alliance exchange wasn't just lectures and discussions. It included practical demonstrations, with master alchemists opening their furnaces and refining high-grade pills in front of audiences. Some of those pills took days to complete from start to finish.
Think of it like a masterclass run by industry experts, except instead of business strategies or cooking techniques, you were learning how to create medicine that could extend someone's life by decades or regrow lost limbs.
Standard cultivation world stuff.
Not that their absence affected recruitment much. For an unranked sect like Aureate Summit, the recruitment ceremony's actual opening wouldn't matter anyway. They'd be stuck waiting until the very end, after all the prestigious sects had taken their picks.
Limited venue space meant a hierarchy. Top-tier sects got first access. Everyone else fought for scraps.
But even though they couldn't recruit during the official ceremony, they could attend as observers. And Alexei was interested in seeing what these so-called top-tier sects looked like in action.
If he got the chance, he wanted to try the advanced Spirit Testing Stele himself. Even if the results were disappointing, at least he'd know for sure. He'd heard an advanced stele didn't just measure spirit root quality, it could also detect special constitutions, unique physiques, hidden bloodlines, all that protagonist-material stuff that cultivation novels loved.
---
They climbed the stairs to their floor in the inn. Alexei headed toward his room, already thinking about getting some sleep before tomorrow's viewing.
"Alexei," Qingxue said from her doorway. "Do you have a moment?"
He turned back. "Yeah?"
She seemed to hesitate, then sighed. "I wanted to mention, I'll be reverting to my true form tonight. The pendant that conceals my fox features works well enough during the day, but maintaining it constantly is tiring. I hope the ears and tail won't disturb you if you happen to see me in the hallway."
Alexei blinked. "Oh. Uh, no problem? I mean, I've seen the fox already, so..."
She glanced down at the small fox in her arms, which was already half-asleep. "Yes. Well. Good night, then."
"Night."
He went into his room and closed the door, flopping onto the bed fully clothed. The fox thing was interesting, sure, but mostly he was just tired from a full day of sitting at that booth pretending to look welcoming while people walked past like they were furniture.
One recruit after a full week...
He stared at the ceiling for a while, thinking about tomorrow, then eventually fell asleep.
---
Morning came too early.
Someone was knocking on his door with increasing insistence until he finally dragged himself out of bed and opened it.
Qingxue stood there in her normal veiled appearance, the fox kit perched on her shoulder. "We should leave soon if we want good seats at the tournament."
"What time is it?"
"Early."
"How early?"
"Early enough that the crowds haven't formed yet."
He groaned but didn't argue. Fighting through packed streets sounded worse than just getting up now.
Twenty minutes later, after washing up and grabbing a quick breakfast from the inn's kitchen, they were ready to head out.
"So we're going to watch the sect competitions?" Alexei asked as they stepped outside.
"That was your plan, yes."
"Right. And I can't test my talent at the stele because...?"
"Because the lines will be absurdly long," Qingxue said. "By now, the queue probably stretches all the way outside the Immortal Alliance Plaza. Every family in the region brings their children for testing during the ceremony. We'd be waiting for hours just to reach the front. You could try later in the week after the initial rush dies down."
"Maybe."
The recruitment ceremony wasn't just about recruiting, apparently. It was a whole multi-day event with different components running simultaneously.
The three major alliances, Alchemy, Artifact Forging, and Formations, each hosted exchange conferences for registered cultivators. These were closed, invitation-only events where experts shared techniques and debated theory.
Separate from those were the inter-sect competitions. They were open to spectators and served as both entertainment and advertisement. Families with newly tested children would watch the matches, observe which sects performed well, and use that information when deciding where to send their children.
The competition requirements were simple. A sect had to be ranked ninth or higher within the Immortal Alliance, and all participants had to be under fifty years old. There were no restrictions on cultivation level.
Aureate Summit met neither requirement. The sect was unranked, and its youngest combat-ready disciple was still Alexei, who had barely been with the sect long enough to learn the "basics."
Not that it mattered. They were not here to compete. They had only come to observe.
"We should fly," Qingxue said, glancing at the street ahead.
It was packed. The crowd pressed shoulder to shoulder, all of them moving in the same general direction at a glacial pace. Parents shepherded their children along, merchants scanned the masses for promising talent to sponsor, and cultivators from smaller sects searched for prospects to poach.
"Normally I'd say we should just walk to avoid attention," Alexei said. "But that looks miserable."
"Indeed."
They took to the air. Qingxue summoned her sword, and the two of them rose above the crowd. From this height, the view was almost dizzying. A solid river of humanity flowed toward the Immortal Alliance grounds, so dense that individual people blurred together into a single mass.
"So many," Alexei muttered. "Are they all here for the recruitment?"
"Most of them. The ceremony only happens once every ten years in each region. Families save for years to make the journey."
"And most of these kids won't have spirit roots."
"No. But hope is a powerful thing."
They flew in silence for a while.
"Which arena do you want to watch?" Qingxue asked as they approached the Alliance grounds.
"I don't know. Which one's closest?"
"The eighth-rank arena is nearby. We could start there."
"Sure. Let's see what a ranked sect looks like in competition."
She adjusted their trajectory, and they descended toward a large building that dominated one section of the grounds. Even from a thousand meters away, they could hear the noise. A crowd roared, and beneath it rose a single voice, amplified by some kind of formation. It took only a moment to recognize it as a commentator addressing the audience.
But this was not just any commentator. He was deeply invested in his job.
As they drew closer, the words became clearer, and Alexei had to fight the urge to laugh.
"Ladies and gentlemen, our Bamboo Peak warrior still has energy to spare! Look at that stance! Look at that focus! Is he conserving his strength? Does he have another devastating technique waiting in reserve?! The tension is unbearable!"
A brief pause, then the voice exploded with excitement.
"There it is! Bamboo Peak's legendary ultimate art, Bamboo Sword Shadow! For those of you keeping score at home, this technique has a ninety-three percent success rate in inter-sect competitions and hasn't failed to impress in seventeen years!"
"Look at that form! Sword light weaving through the air like celestial silk! Each strike is faster than the last! They say this technique was created by observing a bamboo forest in a hurricane, and folks, I believe it! This is what peak eighth-rank sword cultivation looks like!"
"The Bear Mountain disciple is in serious trouble now! He's backpedaling... no, he's trying to block, but how do you block light itself?! This could be it, this could be..."
There was a sudden, confused pause. When the commentator spoke again, his voice had completely changed tone.
"Wait. Did he just... did the Bamboo Peak disciple's strike only cut through his belt? That's... that's not a vital point. That's not even close to a vital point..."
Another pause, longer this time. The crowd's roaring had died down to confused murmuring.
"The Bear Mountain disciple is, uh, currently standing in the middle of the arena in bright red underwear with his robes falling off around his ankles, and I have to say, he looks extremely confused about his current situation."
"The Bamboo Peak disciple also looks confused! His sword technique was flawless, his execution was perfect, and somehow the only casualty is his opponent's pants! This is... I don't even know how to score this! And now... oh, oh no... the underwear, I mean, the Bear Mountain disciple has realized what just happened, and if facial expressions were a cultivation technique, that man would be at Tribulation Transcendence! He is furious!"
"He's charging forward! Forget sword techniques, forget elegant combat, this man has decided that grappling is the answer! He's going for the tackle. How will Bamboo Peak respond to this unorthodox strategy?! Will his legendary sword techniques prevail against raw, pants-less aggression?!"
A brief scuffle, then...
"OH! OH WOW! Bamboo Peak disciple just got absolutely demolished in close combat! That's what we call a comprehensive reversal! When you practice the sword for twenty years and then someone just punches you in the face, sometimes all that technique goes right out the window!"
"The Bamboo Peak disciple is down! He is down! The match is... WAIT! STOP! Hey! Mountain disciple! The match is over! Your opponent is unconscious! You've won! You can stop hitting him now!"
The commentator's voice was getting increasingly desperate.
"Someone get a steward up there! He's not stopping! He's not stopping!"
"OFFICIALS! PLEASE! THE MAN IS ALREADY DOWN!"
By the time Alexei and Qingxue landed on the upper viewing platform, the chaos was already in full swing. Several yellow-robed officials were dragging a half-naked Bear Mountain disciple away from his unconscious opponent, even as the man continued to flail and throw punches. In the spectator sections below, two groups of disciples were on their feet, with Bamboo Peak clad in green and Bear Mountain in brown, screaming insults at one another.
"YOUR SECT'S TECHNIQUE CAN'T EVEN CUT THROUGH CLOTH!"
"AT LEAST OUR DISCIPLES WEAR PANTS UNDER THEIR ROBES!"
"THAT'S UNDERWEAR, YOU UNCULTURED BAMBOO SUCKER! GO SUCK YOUR BAMBOO SOMEWHERE ELSE!"
And yes, there was definitely a guy in bright red underwear being held back by three officials while gesturing wildly and shouting something about honor and embarrassment.
The moment they touched down, the noise around them dropped noticeably. People were staring.
Flying on swords marked them as cultivators of at least Foundation Establishment, which put them well above most of the spectators here. Qingxue seemed completely unbothered by the attention. She'd probably been dealing with this her whole life.
Alexei tried to look equally unbothered and mostly succeeded, though he was still grinning at the circus playing out below.
The viewing platform had tiered seating, with the front rows occupied by disciples from various participating sects, all wearing their sect colors and watching the arena. Behind them sat everyone else: wealthy merchants, successful martial artists, local city officials, anyone with enough money or status to afford decent seats.
For regular people, watching cultivators fight was probably the highlight of the decade. Watching cultivators lose their pants and then pummel each other? That was the kind of story you told your grandchildren.
Down on the arena floor, officials were frantically resetting the space for the next match. The previous fighters had been escorted off while workers spread fresh sand to cover the scorch marks and impact craters.
A formation array beneath the arena floor pulsed briefly, smoothing out the worst of the damage and, presumably, removing the torn clothing scattered across the combat zone.
The commentator cleared his throat.
"Well, that was certainly educational. Remember, in cultivation combat, it is not always the flashiest technique that wins. Sometimes you just need to commit to the fundamentals, like punching and refusing to let go!"
A ripple of laughter went through the crowd.
"Moving right along to our next exhibition of martial prowess, eighth-rank sects, second match! In the red corner, representing the Iron Sword Sect, known for their unbreakable defensive formations and blade techniques that can split mountains. And in the blue corner, the Heartseeker Sect, whose disciples train in the deadly art of precision strikes, targeting vital points!"
"Both sects bring decades of tradition to this arena! Both, and I cannot stress this enough, have confirmed that their disciples are wearing secure belts!"
Alexei grinned and leaned against the railing. He had a feeling this would be entertaining.