Chapter 203: Silverblade Peak
Su Tianhao walked beside Su Mei in silence, deliberately keeping pace with her as she guided him away from Ashenveil Peak. The silence stretched between them—unhurried, neither comfortable nor hostile—and continued for several long minutes until the trial ground fell behind them and the main body of the Qingyun Sect rose ahead.
The moment they crossed back into the sect proper, a wave of spiritual energy swept over them like a warm current rising from deep water. The atmosphere shifted—alive in a way Ashenveil's thin air hadn't been, rich and natural and effortless. Su Tianhao drew a slow breath. Even the air itself was saturated. With his Clear Stream Body, simply breathing felt like passive cultivation. A small, satisfied smile curved his lips.
But it vanished the moment he glanced at Su Mei.
She walked a few steps ahead, her movements slow and rigid, shoulders tensed, fists clenched at her sides as though she were bracing against something only she could feel. There were many things she wanted to say. Why she had never returned home in seven years. Why she had never once checked on him—not even after word reached her of his fall a year ago. The guilt sat in her chest like a stone she couldn't put down.
Su Tianhao read those subtle shifts instantly and exhaled quietly. He knew better than to press her now. Duan Fei had chosen Su Mei for this escort deliberately—that much was obvious. The woman had already seen the tension surrounding his elder sister and decided, in her own quiet way, to give them a chance to work through it. He wasn't going to waste that. The answers he might have once desperately needed, no longer felt quite so urgent.
'I can't believe this is Little Tian...'
Su Mei's thoughts drifted before she caught herself, shaking her head slowly.
'No. I no longer have the right to call him that. What kind of elder sister am I?'
She tilted her head back and stole a glance. Su Tianhao was admiring the view ahead, his expression calm and unhurried, giving no sign he had noticed her stare. She looked away quickly.
'He's grown... In just one year, he reached 9th level Martial Adept Realm—without me, without any of us.' Like the rest of the Su family, she hadn't truly considered the possibility that Su Tianhao had only awakened recently. The more comfortable assumption—that he had been hiding his cultivation base all along, training in secret in Fei Wu Quarter—was easier to hold onto. It relieved them of certain things they did not have answer to.
"Good spiritual energy conductivity you have here." Su Tianhao's voice broke the silence without warning. "If this is the Outer Court, I can't imagine what the Inner Court looks like."
Su Mei flinched. She steadied herself and managed a smile. "You're right. I was just as impressed when I first arrived."
Su Tianhao hummed, his gaze drifting toward the cluster of buildings ahead—stone structures rising from the mountain in layered tiers, their rooftops half-dissolved by the mist that clung naturally to the Mistveil Mountains. "I heard from a senior that the Qingyun Sect's Outer Court spans two peaks. How is that possible on a single mountain?"
Su Mei's eyes lit up immediately, latching onto the question like a lifeline thrown across deep water. "That's because it isn't a single mountain."
"How do you mean?"
'Finally a chance to share my knowledge!'
"From a distance, the Qingyun Peak looks like one mountain—but it's actually two peaks connected at the base, close enough that they appear as one from the plains below. The valley between them is where we're standing now. The two peaks are the Silverblade Peak and the Jadeclaw Peak. This space in between is neutral ground."
"I see." Su Tianhao narrowed his eyes at the buildings ahead. "And those structures—they don't belong to either peak, do they?"
"Correct." Su Mei nodded. "Those are the sect's administrative buildings. They handle external and internal affairs—receiving visitors, attending to disciples' needs. More practically, they serve as a natural meeting ground where members of both peaks can interact without setting foot on rival territory."
As she spoke, the path widened and the stone stairways came into view—multiple broad flights rising from the valley floor, each wide enough for twenty men to walk abreast, their balusters worn smooth by decades of passing feet. Some curved right. Some curved left.
"The right stairways leads to Silverblade Peak," Su Mei said. "The left to Jadeclaw."
Su Tianhao absorbed that without comment, his gaze already tracking ahead. Su Mei walked past the staircases without slowing.
"Where are we going first?"
Su Mei pointed to a building directly ahead. It was wide and low-slung compared to the towers flanking it—built from pale grey stone with broad double doors of dark ironwood, the sect's insignia carved into the lintel above the entrance. Two stone lanterns flanked the doors, their spirit flames burning a steady blue even in daylight. A modest structure by any measure, practical rather than grand, but the steady stream of staff moving in and out of it gave it a quiet sense of importance.
"The Distribution Hall," Su Mei said. "Every new Outer Court Disciple comes here first to receive their uniforms and identification token. Older disciples can return if they need replacements, though those cost Cloud Points."
Su Tianhao's brow lifted slightly. "Cloud Points?"
Su Mei pointed eastward. Partially swallowed by mist, a second building rose at a distance—taller than the Distribution Hall, its entrance framed by a carved archway, the characters above it barely legible through the haze. Even obscured, something about its atmosphere felt deliberate, like a place that expected to be approached rather than stumbled upon.
"The Mission Hall," she said. "Open to all Outer Court Disciples regardless of peak. Missions are posted by the sect or outside parties who need assistance—completion earns Cloud Points, scaled according to the difficulty of the mission."
"Are missions the only source—"
"They aren't." Su Mei shook her head. "Disciples below the Martial Adept Realm who aren't qualified for field missions can earn points through sect labour—caring for tamed beasts and spirit mounts, assisting Elders or other officials—prominently at the Alchemy Pavilion or the weapon forges. There's also the Azure Cloud Ranking."
Su Tianhao's attention sharpened. "What's that?"
"A ranking list of the top hundred Outer Court disciples, drawn from both peaks. Defeating a ranked disciple earns you their position along with the rewards that come with it. Performing notable deeds for the sect can also earn points directly, at the Elders' discretion."
"Interesting."
"It keeps things lively," Su Mei agreed, the faint ghost of her usual warmth surfacing for just a moment.
They reached the Distribution Hall's entrance and stepped inside.
The interior opened wider than the exterior suggested—a long rectangular hall with a high vaulted ceiling supported by four rows of stone pillars, the spacing between them generous enough to prevent the room from feeling crowded even when it wasn't. The floor was pale flagstone, worn to a faint polish near the counters that lined the far wall. Behind those counters, staff moved with practiced efficiency between shelves stacked with folded uniforms, sealed token cases, and document ledgers. The air inside carried a faint trace of spirit ink and cedar—orderly, impersonal, and built to process large numbers of people without friction. Banners bearing the sect's insignia hung between the pillars, their edges stirring gently from the foot traffic below.
"This place is massive," Su Tianhao remarked.
Su Mei's expression eased slightly. "Month-end allowance distribution. Disciples from both peaks flood this hall at once—the space is deliberate. You don't want a hundred Martial Adepts packed shoulder to shoulder waiting for their stipend."
Su Tianhao considered that briefly. A fair point.
The hall was busy in the particular way of people preparing for something—staff moving between stations, ledgers being updated, shelves reorganised. Everyone occupied. Almost everyone.
One man sat behind the far-left counter with his legs crossed on the desk and a book propped against his shins, turning pages with the unhurried ease of someone with nowhere to be and no intention of finding one. He was giggling—quietly, and not in a way that suggested the material was wholesome.
"That one," Su Tianhao muttered. "He doesn't look busy."
Su Mei hesitated. Then agreed, with the expression of someone resigned to a headache.
They crossed the hall toward him. The man didn't look up. The cover of the book, now visible at closer range, confirmed Su Mei's suspicion immediately—one of the erotic novels currently circulating through both peaks, penned by some anonymous author whose identity had fuelled more speculation than most sect affairs. Most disciples who read it had the sense to do so privately. This one apparently hadn't received that particular piece of social guidance.
"Pervert!"
Su Mei's palm came down on the counter. The man lowered the book unhurriedly, a slow smile already in place—the smile of someone who had been caught before and found the experience more entertaining than shameful. He looked to be in his early thirties at a glance: curly hair, a clean shave, pristine white robes that sat in pointed contrast to everything else about him. His face was average in every measurable sense—not handsome, not ugly, entirely unremarkable. His cultivation registered at 3rd level Martial Soul Realm.
"Well, well." His voice carried the particular warmth of someone performing charm rather than feeling it. "If it isn't the Echoing Blade herself. What brings a top-ten Azure Cloud Ranking disciple to the Distribution Hall at this hour?" His gaze drifted to Su Mei with unconcealed appreciation. "Tell me what I can do for you. Anything at all~"
"You—" Colour flooded Su Mei's face. Su Tianhao's hand found her shoulder—a brief, light pressure. She exhaled, steadied, and pressed on.
"Zhou Wen, this is Su Tianhao—one of the new recruits, and the first-ranked among them."
"Oh." Zhou Wen turned to Su Tianhao, his eyes carrying quiet curiosity. But they widened the moment he reached out with his spiritual sense. Now that his cultivation was already known to the sect, Su Tianhao saw no reason to conceal it.
"Peak-stage Martial Adept Realm?!"
Zhou Wen jumped from his chair, startling the nearby staff. They all delivered heavy condemning glares before returning to their work—none of them even bothering to scold him aloud. Su Tianhao noted the absence of correction with quiet interest.
'A spoilt noble with considerable backing.'
Zhou Wen turned to Su Mei, all traces of his earlier flattery gone, his expression now entirely serious. "Are you sure he's a new recruit?"
Su Mei nodded once.
"Age and talent?"
There was a flicker of something in Su Mei's chest—not obligation, but a quiet pride she hadn't expected. "Sixteen. Broken talent."
"HEAVENS! ABOVE NINE STARS?!"
The exclamation came out at a volume Zhou Wen clearly hadn't planned for.
"Compose yourself, Idle Man Zhou. Some of us are working."
The voice came from an elderly man three stations down—broad-shouldered, grey-robed, with the unhurried authority of someone who had long since stopped needing to raise his voice to be heard. His aura surfaced briefly: Peak-stage Martial Soul Realm. The air in the immediate vicinity grew noticeably heavier.
"My apologies, Old Cao. It won't happen again."
"Hmph."
Old Cao returned to his ledger. The surrounding staff followed suit, their glares fading back into focus. Zhou Wen pressed a hand to his chest and exhaled.
"That nearly gave me a heart attack!" he muttered, then turned back to Su Mei with something approaching genuine disbelief. "You're not trying to prank me?"
"What a joke." Su Mei's expression was flat. "Why would I waste a prank on someone like you?"
Zhou Wen opened his mouth. The words dissolved unspoken as Su Tianhao's voice arrived.
"Can I get my uniform and token? We don't have all day."
Zhou Wen's eyes slid to him. Whatever calculation ran behind them reached its conclusion quickly—broken talent or not, Peak-stage Martial Adept at sixteen was not a wager worth taking. The shift in his manner was immediate and complete, like a curtain dropping to reveal an entirely different stage.
"Of course, young master. If you'll step a little closer, I'll take your measurements—"
"I'd rather my sister did it."
"Sister?"
Zhou Wen turned to Su Mei with a questioning look. Su Mei was momentarily stunned—the word landing somewhere she hadn't braced for. She recovered quickly, her voice coming out steady in a way that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Tianhao here is my relative by adoption."
The uncertainty in those eyes was plain. Zhou Wen caught it and left it alone. He produced a measuring tape from beneath the counter and handed it across without comment.
Su Mei worked quickly—measured, recorded, passed the paper back. Zhou Wen took it with his usual smile restored to partial function.
"I'll return shortly."
He disappeared into the shelving beyond the counter. Su Tianhao watched him go.
"He doesn't look old enough to be an Elder," he said. "He's barely past thirty."
"Elder my foot!" Su Mei made a sound that wasn't quite a laugh. "That man is a deacon, not an Elder, and he's well past forty. Cultivation does that."
"What exactly is a deacon? How do they differ from Elders?"
Su Mei straightened slightly, slipping into the cadence of someone who had explained this before and didn't mind explaining it again. "Deacons are sect officials ranked below Elders. Outer Court Disciples who fail to enter the Inner Court before thirty can choose to remain and serve the sect as deacons—they're typically at the Martial Soul Realm. But even the lowest-ranked Elder is at least a 1st level Martial Master. You can tell them apart by the insignia colour. Deacons wear azure. Elders wear blue."
Su Tianhao glanced back toward the counter. The azure insignia on Zhou Wen's robe was obvious now that he knew what to look for. He had simply assumed it was an aesthetic choice specific to the Distribution Hall's staff. Turned out he was wrong.
He made a quiet note to be more observant.