A week after the waterfall excursion, Li Heng found He Yu on their day off. “You need a weapon,” he said. There was a matter-of-factness to his words, a tone that suggested this wasn’t up for debate.

“Sha Xiang doesn’t use one. Ren Huang doesn’t either. I’ve never heard anyone talk about what kind of weapon Zhang Lifen uses, either.” He didn’t object to a weapon on principle. During Ren Huang’s lessons, he’d quickly learned that weapons offered a tremendous advantage over bare fists and feet.

It would cost him, though. He’d been saving points since arriving at the sect, but he didn’t want to spend them. They would better be used to purchase advancement resources, he felt. Especially now that he felt he was close to the late First Realm.

Li Heng held up a finger. “First, you don’t know whether or not Ren Huang uses a weapon. He could easily keep one in his storage treasure.” He Yu hadn’t thought of that. Most cultivators kept one. They usually took the form of a ring, or other piece of jewelry, allowing them to seemingly produce objects from thin air.

“What about Sha Xiang and Zhang Lifen?”

“Sha Xiang has that glove of hers. Had, I suppose.”

He Yu crossed his arms over his chest. That didn’t seem fair. A glove wasn’t a proper weapon, but that was beside the point. “And Senior Sister Zhang?”

“She’s an archer.”

“That’s perfect,” He Yu said. “A bow would allow me to stay out of the fight, but still contribute.”

“You’re not strong enough for a proper bow.”

“Zhang Lifen hardly looks that strong,” He Yu said.

“You think a peak Golden Core isn’t strong?”

He Yu was too busy bristling at Li Heng calling him weak to think about how strong Zhang Lifen might be. “What kind of weapon should I use then?” he asked.

“A spear,” Li Heng said.

He Yu’s hopes died before they’d even fully formed. It was a peasant’s weapon. Surely that was why Li Heng had suggested it.

“Easy to use. It has a good amount of reach, and it provides leverage. As your skill improves, the properties that compensate for your weaknesses turn into advantages. Besides, you can always learn other weapons later.”

He realized he wasn’t going to win this one. “Alright, let’s go find me a spear.”

He Yu had never actually been to the sect market before. Purchases had to be made with spirit stones, and he used most of his for cultivation. He could always purchase more stones with sect points, but what if he needed something from the manual pavilion? His weekly stipend from the sect had been the key to his advancement so far, and he was loathe to spend it on anything else.

As if reading his mind, Li Heng said, “Don’t think about the cost. Anything you buy right now won’t last beyond the Second Realm anyway. You wouldn’t be able to make full use of a treasure meant for higher realm cultivators even if you could afford one.”

“Like your jian,” he said. The silvery light that gathered around the blade had fascinated him, but he’d never found the opportunity to ask about it. One didn’t simply ask a cultivator about their treasures or techniques.

Li Heng nodded. “It was my grandfather’s, and it will serve me through Nascent Soul. But as I said, I can’t make use of its full power yet.”

A sword suitable for a Fifth Realm cultivator. He Yu couldn’t believe it. Li Heng’s jian must be worth more than the entire town of Shulin, and then some. “That’s amazing. No wonder it gathers light the way it does.”

For the first time since meeting him, Li Heng showed a flicker of genuine pride. “The light comes from my family’s Lunar Mirror Sword Art. It helped my grandfather earn his assignment as Marquis of the Western Passage. The source of the light is the art’s principle technique, the Winter Moon Reflection.”

A name was good enough for He Yu. It was honestly more than he would have gotten out of anyone other than Li Heng. He hadn’t even asked Chen Fei the name of her family art. And Tan Xiaoling—well, he wouldn’t dare raise the subject with her, although he was certain she had her own arts as well.

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The fact that his friends all had actual family arts passed down through generations stung. Maybe if he’d come from an established family with cultivator ancestors, he wouldn’t be at such a disadvantage. Even Chen Fei, for all her objections to conflict, was a Second Realm cultivator before she’d even been accepted to the Shrouded Peaks Sect.

“I don’t know how anything I can find here can compare to that,” He Yu said.

“It won’t,” Li Heng replied. “But it doesn’t need to. Like I said, you wouldn’t even be able to use a real treasure. Even if you had one, it would be no different than any other spear you found at the market at best. At worst, it could cause a backlash and permanently damage you.”

“It still doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to buy something that I’ll just replace as soon as I break through.”

“Why not? The dueling ban ends in a few more months. We’ll have plenty of resources then.”

“Nobody told me our stipends are getting increased,” He Yu said. That would be a welcome change.

Li Heng gave a soft chuckle. “No, we’re going to take them.”

He Yu suddenly felt rather uncomfortable. “Take them? Like, rob people?”

At least Li Heng had the decency to look affronted at that. “Rob them? Of course not. I’m just talking about the spoils of victory.”

That sounded an awful lot like robbing people. Though, in nearly every story victorious cultivators would take a token of victory from their defeated opponents. It usually took the form of some elixir or pill, or perhaps simply a minor treasure. If there was a particularly vicious grudge, the victor might take something of greater value. The stories always portrayed it as a just price exacted for unprovoked aggression. Now that he thought about it, there wasn’t much difference between what happened in the stories and what Li Heng had called it. Spoils of victory. He Yu wasn’t certain how he felt about that.

“I suppose we can sort that out when the time comes,” he muttered, not really wanting to wrestle with the implications just then.

When they arrived at the weapon seller’s stall, He Yu took a moment to let his eyes wander over all the pieces arrayed before him. The four basic weapons—the staff, the dao, the spear, and the jian—were all well represented, along with many others besides. The one that immediately drew his attention was a finely made guandao. The metal shaft, longer than he was tall by half a foot, was etched with formation characters. He Yu immediately reached for it, imagining himself standing victorious amidst his fallen foes like the God of War himself.

“That is the exact opposite of a good weapon for you,” Li Heng said.

He Yu grabbed the haft of the weapon and pulled himself off balance as he tried to lift it. “How heavy is it?” he asked, turning to Li Heng.

“Probably weighs more than you do,” the noble replied with an amused grin. “Most consider it more of a training tool than a proper weapon. That’s why it’s so heavy.”

He Yu hefted the guandao again. It would be a difficult weapon to use, but he wanted it. He wanted anything other than a spear, to be honest. Maybe it was his desire to be like the legends that inspired him. Maybe it was the indignation he’d felt earlier at Li Heng saying he was weak. Maybe it was the certainty that he’d grow into it as his cultivation improved. He didn’t know which it was, or if it were all of those things. All he knew was that this was going to be his weapon. It was a weapon suitable for a legendary hero if there ever was one.

“How much?” he asked the weapon seller, an older outer sect disciple with a build that reminded He Yu of his father.

“Ten low-grade stones,” came the answer.

After a brief haggling session, Li Heng managed to talk the dealer down to seven stones and a promise that he wouldn’t sell the guandao to anyone else. He Yu rushed to the commission hall to exchange some of his contribution points. With the weapon cradled in his arms—as much from necessity owing to its weight as from possessiveness—the pair headed back to the residential area.

“Can you teach me to use it?” He Yu asked.

“I know a couple of basic forms. You’re better off purchasing lessons.”

He’d been afraid of that. Outer sect disciples could purchase tutoring from inner sect disciples in exchange for sect points. Points he was loathe to part with, especially after using so many on his new weapon.

Li Heng gave him a sidelong glance. “If you want to be able to use that thing, you’ll need proper training. At the very least you’ll want a technique you can use with it. It’s just wasted spirit stones otherwise.”

As much as he hated to admit it, Li Heng was right. At the very least, he needed to learn the basic forms of the weapon. If he couldn’t rely on it in a fight, he may as well have just thrown his spirit stones off the mountain. “I just wanted to spend those resources on my advancement,” he eventually muttered.

“What do you think weapon training is, if not advancement? Sitting and meditating is all fine and good, but do you think Zhang Lifen got to where she is by sitting in a cave and absorbing qi from spirit stones? Do you think that’s all Sha Xiang is doing? No. Why do you think we spend half our day with Senior Brother Ren?”

As much as He Yu wanted to shoot back because of his injured pride, he knew that—as always—Li Heng was right. Martial training was just as much a part of his cultivation as meditation was, and it was a part he’d so far been neglecting outside Ren Huang’s lessons.

Sure, he’d been sparring with Li Heng, but there was only so much he could gain from that. Li Heng couldn’t use anywhere near his full strength. The gap was just too huge. The noble was right about one other thing, too. Sha Xiang certainly wasn’t neglecting her martial training the same way he was. He’d seen her sparring with the other disciples. She’d gotten faster and stronger.

He Yu sighed and resigned himself to spending even more of his contribution points. At least, he told himself, it was for a good cause.