Chapter 205: Stonehaven Grove
The residential section of the Silverblade Peak spread before them—hundreds of acres of mountain terrain folded into a living space that bore little resemblance to the ordered streets they had just walked through.
"This is—"
"The residential area," Su Mei confirmed. "But unlike the other levels on the mountain, it isn't a single section. It's multiple sections spread across a vast territory."
"How so?" Su Tianhao asked, his interest sharpening.
"It serves as accommodation for both Outer Court Disciples and Deacons. The Outer Court Disciples' portion alone is divided into three sections." She paused, watching him with a quiet smile. "But since they all still qualify as residential areas for Outer Court Disciples, there's only one stairway leading here—so you don't have to worry about wandering into a section you aren't meant to be in."
"Three sections?" Su Tianhao raised an eyebrow.
"It would be better to show you." Her expression steadied. "But first—remember the stairway that leads here. If you ever get lost on the Peak, go back down and find your way from the residential stairway. It's your anchor point."
Her tone turned more deliberate. "I should have mentioned this earlier—new recruits are only permitted to enter the Silverblade Peak through the residential stairway to begin with. It makes it easier to orient yourself. You explore the Peak outward from home, not the other way around. I took you through the entertainment section first because I wanted to show you around."
Su Tianhao nodded. He filed that away quietly.
"I noticed you didn't mention Elders when you were describing the residential areas," he said. "Do they not live on the Peak?"
Su Mei's smile turned wry. "Elders are particular about where they choose to live. The Peak Master grants them the freedom to build their abodes wherever they wish within the Peak—provided it doesn't disrupt traffic or the mountain's structure."
She paused, organising her words. "Some have built close to where they work. Those attached to the Alchemy Pavilion or Weapon Hall tend to live near those areas. Others have chosen to reside within the halls themselves. A few have carved out caves in sections with unusually high spiritual energy density. And one of them"—a slight pause—"decided to build his residence in the entertainment section. Acts like a city lord of some sort."
"Interesting."
"Indeed." Su Mei said it softly, and something quiet moved behind her eyes—a warmth she hadn't expected to feel, spreading without permission. Su Tianhao was talking to her like nothing had changed. Like the years of separation between them were nothing. She didn't deserve that ease, and the awareness of it only made the guilt heavier.
Su Tianhao could see it. The same dilemma he had watched move through Xie Ling's eyes, more times than he could count. He didn't press. Not yet.
"What are we waiting for?" he said instead. "Show me these three sections. I'm curious."
"Right!" Su Mei snapped back to focus, her eyes lighting with renewed energy. "Come with me."
She led the way. Su Tianhao followed, unhurried, at her side.
---
As they walked deeper into the residential territory, the cultivated stonework and ordered structures of the Silverblade Peak gradually gave way to something raw. The path widened into a vast natural expanse—untamed, unpolished, and entirely deliberate in its wildness.
Bamboo filled the valley ahead. Not planted in rows or trimmed into shape, but growing in the way bamboo does when left entirely to itself—dense and uneven, stalks crowding each other at odd angles, the canopy above thick enough to filter the light into long, pale shafts that shifted with the mountain wind. Mist drifted between the stalks in slow, wandering currents, and the air carried the faint green smell of living wood and damp earth.
Between the stalks, the shapes of houses began to emerge—close-set, low-roofed structures of split bamboo and rough timber, their walls uneven, their thatched roofs darkened by mountain weather. No carvings, no spirit lanterns, no decorative touches of any kind. Just shelter, reduced to its most basic function.
"This is the Wildbamboo Grounds," Su Mei announced. "The first section of the Outer Court Disciple residence."
"This is..." Su Tianhao paused.
"Primitive," Su Mei offered.
"Exactly." He nodded slowly. "It's not what I expected from a sect of this standing."
"It's not harshness for its own sake," Su Mei explained. "It's to ensure that weaker disciples don't grow comfortable in weakness. The Wildbamboo Grounds is home to disciples below the Martial Adept Realm. The conditions are meant to push them—to give them a reason to break through faster so they can earn better."
She gestured toward the houses. "There are five hundred bamboo houses in this section. Even so, it's empty most of the time. The sect only accepts disciples at the 7th level Martial Disciple Realm or above, with at least four-star talent. A disciple with those foundations who cannot break through to the Martial Adept Realm within a full year of sect support—resources, instruction, training grounds—simply isn't cut out for this path. Those who fail the threshold are asked to leave without exception."
"A one-year trial," Su Tianhao remarked. "A 9th, 8th, or even 7th level Martial Disciple with at least four-star talent and an entire year of sect backing who still can't advance... there's nothing more the sect can offer them."
"Agreed." Su Mei's gaze drifted over the bamboo structures. "Do you want to pass through or go around? There's another route to the next section, we can—"
"Let's go through," Su Tianhao said, before she could finish. "I want to see what I had to skip. Makes it easier to appreciate what I'll be getting."
Su Mei's eyes gleamed. "My father would be proud to hear you say that, junior brother."
Su Tianhao didn't answer. He simply smiled.
'Of course he would.'
---
The walk through the Wildbamboo Grounds was quiet and uneventful. No one was living in the bamboo houses. According to Su Mei, only five disciples had failed to advance from the previous examination cycle—all five had since been dismissed from the sect without ceremony.
As they moved through, Su Tianhao observed carefully and arrived at a single, quiet conclusion: this was a place no one would want to stay in any longer than necessary.
Privacy was an illusion here. The bamboo walls were thin enough that gaps between stalks allowed easy lines of sight into neighbouring houses. No formations sealed the sound—cultivation during daylight hours would be a constant exercise in filtering out the noise of the living mountain around you, and nights brought their own disruptions: insects, wind through the gaps, the persistent sound of crickets that no amount of focus could fully block. Most disciples, Su Mei mentioned, preferred to spend Cloud Points on time in the Cultivation Hall rather than attempt serious training in their own house.
But it only got worse. There were no personal bathing facilities or private sanitation within the houses themselves. Shared bathhouses served the entire grounds—one for men, one for women—but the arrangement had proven less than honourable on more than one occasion. Several male disciples had been caught attempting to peek the women's bathhouse from concealed positions, and the incidents only worsen the general reputation of the Wildbamboo Grounds among female disciples.
Although it was harsh, Su Tianhao couldn't help but admit it was effective. According to Su Mei, most disciples don't even spend up to a month in the Wildbamboo Grounds—especially those nobles. Many of them receive resources from their families to rapidly increase their cultivation speed, just so they could leave as fast as possible.
---
Beyond the Wildbamboo Grounds, the valley opened outward into something altogether different—a vast flourishing expanse of hundreds of acres where the mountain's wildness had been allowed to thrive rather than be contained. Fine grass spread across the open ground, broken by stands of tall trees whose canopies caught the light in shifting patterns of green and gold. And encircling all of it, forming a natural boundary that rose like a living wall, was a forest of pine trees—dense, dark, and ancient in the particular way of trees that have been left entirely alone for a very long time.
Su Tianhao's eyes moved across it steadily. "So the better settlement is inside a forest, but it's not so simple is it."
It was not quite a question. His tone was flat in the way it sometimes was when he was already working through the answer himself.
"I know junior brother can't be that short-sighted," Su Mei stated. The unconscious pride in her voice was something she didn't seem to notice herself.
Her expression shifted into something more composed. "This is the Ironpine Woods. According to old records, it was once a massive forest covering much of this Peak—home to thousands of spirit beasts across multiple grades. The sect cleared it out over the course of several generations. The beasts were either killed or, if exceptional enough, tamed and relocated. What remained of the forest afterward was shaped deliberately—almost completely stripped back, except for the perimeter, which was left standing and gradually sculpted into the circular ring you see now." She paused. "From above, this entire section looks like a settlement enclosed inside a ring of trees."
"Are there still beasts in the Ironpine Woods?" Su Tianhao asked. The training implications had already presented themselves.
"Not in the way you're imagining," Su Mei said, reading him easily. "But the Ironpine trees themselves are exceptionally dense and durable—hence the name. You can practice martial arts techniques against them without concern for doing the forest any real damage. And the terraforming left enough open ground and canopy clearance for movement technique practice without feeling cramped."
Su Tianhao was quiet for a moment. "Whoever designed this place thought carefully about it."
"They did," Su Mei agreed with a quiet smile.
"Let's go in."
---
The Ironpine Woods received them without ceremony. The moment they stepped beneath the canopy, the noise of the Peak above faded—not all at once, but gradually, absorbed by the density of the trees around them. The ironpine trunks rose in straight, dark columns, their bark ridged and silver-grey, hard enough that striking one bare-handed would tell you immediately why they had been named as they were. The ground between them was clean—no undergrowth to speak of, just a carpet of fallen needles that muffled every step and released a sharp, resinous scent when disturbed. Light came through the canopy in broad, shifting columns, clear enough to train by, soft enough that the forest never felt exposed. The air inside was noticeably cooler, and quieter in a way that went beyond the absence of sound—a stillness that had accumulated over centuries and settled deep into the wood itself.
They moved through without hurrying. The forest was wider than it appeared from outside—deep enough that the entrance disappeared behind them before the far side came into view.
When it did, Su Tianhao stopped mid-step.
Beyond the last line of ironpines, the ground dropped gently into a wide, open basin—a natural hollow in the mountain, as though the Peak itself had cupped its hands. And nestled inside it, spread across the terrain in quiet, unhurried arrangement, were stone cottages—more than Su Tianhao could count at a glance, dozens visible from where he stood and hundreds more suggested by the winding paths that disappeared into the basin's deeper folds.
Not built in rows, not arranged in grids—but placed in the way of things that had grown rather than been planned, each one set apart from its neighbour by the natural contours of the land. Moss-covered stone paths wound between them, following the slope rather than fighting it. Ancient trees—not ironpines but broad-leafed varieties, their roots lifting the earth into gentle ridges—rose at irregular intervals, their canopies wide enough to cast whole cottages into dappled shade. Small streams ran between the stones, fed by the mountain above, their sound constant and low. The spiritual energy here was noticeably denser than anywhere else they had walked—not overwhelming, but present in the way that good air is present: something you notice only because your body responds to it before your mind does.
Each cottage was modest—single-storey, built from the same grey mountain stone as the Peak's other structures, with narrow windows and a formation seal visible above every door. No decorations. No excess. But there was something settled about them, something that spoke of permanence rather than temporary accommodation.
It felt, above all else, like a place where serious people came to do serious work in peace.
Su Tianhao stood at the tree line and took it in.
"Welcome," Su Mei said beside him, "to the Stonehaven Grove."