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1.25 - The Heavenly Palace

With his jade stamp in hand, He Yu went to the outer sect manual pavilion for the first time since he’d arrived at the Shrouded Peaks Sect. As a First Realm outer disciple, he only had unfettered access to the ground floor. He would gain full access to the second and third once he advanced to Foundation and Body Refining, respectively. If he wanted to browse the floors beyond and the techniques they contained, he’d need dispensation of some sort. The easiest way to obtain that was to earn it by completing jobs for the sect.

Of course, this put him in a difficult position. At the middle stage of Qi Gathering, he had a rough time completing jobs other than simple chores. Without the extra resources, the only way he’d been able to keep pace with the other First Realm disciples was by burning through his weekly stipend along with any other spirit stones he could afford with the sect points he earned. Spending the precious few sect points he’d managed to squirrel away on his guandao had hurt, and it had taken him nearly two weeks to gather enough points to where he felt he could afford a basic art for the weapon. That he was the leader in total points collected mattered little to him, given how far behind he’d started in his cultivation.

He was looking over the admittedly limited selection of guandao arts when the sound of someone softly clearing their throat caught his attention. A man wearing black elder’s robes trimmed in white stood before him. His face was just beginning to show signs of age in the form of smile lines around the corners of his eyes.

He Yu immediately performed a deep bow, not daring to speak. The elder’s presence was uncanny—or rather, it was the lack of such. Every higher realm cultivator he’d encountered so far had some form of spiritual weight that followed them and pressed down on the world, even with their spirit restrained. Zhang Lifen gave the impression of fathomless, crushing depth. Ren Huang was an all-consuming blaze. Elder Wen was a timeless, ancient forest bursting with life. But this—this elder was empty. There was nothing to mark his presence.

“So this is the young man who has caught my disciple’s interest,” the elder said.

He Yu didn’t dare respond. The only possible reason he couldn’t grasp the elder’s spiritual presence must be that it was so vast and beyond him that it was simply impossible to comprehend.

Besides, he hadn’t been commanded to speak, and he had long since learned to keep his mouth shut in the presence of sect elders. Never mind that he was terrified. What reason would a sect elder of this power have for seeking him out personally?

“Have you no tongue? Can you not speak?” the elder asked.

There was something familiar about the way the elder spoke that itched at the back of his mind. “This one offers his humblest apologies, Honored Elder.”

“Stop that. I have no patience for your groveling. Nobody else is in this section, and I’ve made certain we won’t be disturbed. I am Elder Cai Weizhe. I’ve graced you with my presence, or at least a projection of such, so ask your questions.”

This was all too much. “What’s going on?” he asked before he could help himself. “This one offers his sincerest apologies,” he hastily added, giving another bow.

Elder Cai gave an impatient sigh, sounding very unlike He Yu’s image of an elder at that moment. “If the heavens are kind, Zhang Lifen will break you of that habit before you amount to anything I must deal with regularly.”

It took him a moment longer to piece everything together. The elder had initially seemed so familiar because he had the same disregard for formality that Zhang Lifen had displayed when the two of them were alone. That explained where she’d gotten it from. While she had never given the name of her own master, she had mentioned he was of the Eighth Realm—Divine Soul Apotheosis. That likely explained the projection and the lack of any spiritual weight to his presence.

“You’re Zhang Lifen’s master, then?” he asked, feeling at once a touch more at ease and considerably more nervous.

“I am,” Elder Cai said with a nod. “While I generally trust her judgment, I can’t say I agree with her choice in this case. I find you quite unimpressive. You have potential, that much anyone can see, but it yet remains untapped. As things stand now, you’ll be swept away once the grace period for new disciples ends. I suppose that’s why you’re here, aren’t you?”

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“I need an art to pair with my guandao. As a First Realm, I have hardly any techniques or arts besides the cultivation technique that I came here with. Senior Sister Zhang told me to cultivate the White Mountain technique instead, which I have.”

Elder Cai nodded. “At least you took her advice. I suggest you continue to do so, such that she is able to give. Now, the guandao…” Elder Cai let his voice trail off as he turned to the shelf next to He Yu. It was stacked with rolled-up bamboo scrolls, bound manuals, and jade slips. After a moment a manual flew from its place and into Elder Cai’s waiting hand. He handed it to He Yu. “The Five Crescent Winds. It is a suitable art for a First Realm to begin cultivating, but it will only reveal its true power when combined with other arts.”

As he took the volume, He Yu bit back a bitter response. He needed something he could use now—something that would give him an edge in the coming conflicts. This didn’t seem as though it would help until he was much further along his Way. “This one thanks the Honored Elder.”

“A strong house needs a strong foundation,” the elder said, clear displeasure creeping into his words. Unsurprising that an elder would sense He Yu’s dissatisfaction so easily. “While its true function is to support other arts, the Five Crescent Winds is more than capable of standing on its own. The sooner you begin your path to mastering it, the better it will serve you when you begin to draw out its potential.”

“Pardon my asking, Elder Cai, but why give me this?”

“Zhang Lifen has an unfortunate fondness for wagers. When she chose you for the sect, all that she stood to lose was some small measure of her reputation. Something a disciple of her talent can easily afford.” Elder Wen paused, then sighed before continuing. “However, the workings of the wider world continue to move, heedless of our desires. I now find it necessary to place my thumb on the scales, as it were. Come, follow me.”

Elder Cai turned and headed for the stairs that would take them to the higher floors, and He Yu silently fell in behind him. He had questions to be certain, but they were better left unvoiced as it seemed Elder Cai was intent on taking their conversation in a different direction.

“Make no mistake, I’ve provided you with a suitable art for your guandao more for my own disciple’s benefit than for yours. Barring some form of intervention, I have little doubt that you would not have made it much further in the outer sect. What I have prepared for your future advancement is something altogether different.”

Now that made He Yu’s imagination buzz with anticipation. “This humble disciple thanks the Honored Elder,” he said.

A second projection of the elder appeared next to him and rapped He Yu twice on the head with the back of his knuckles while giving him a disapproving glare. The first projection continued to walk and talk, hands folded behind his back. “While your qi is still diffuse owing to your low cultivation, it is trivial to glean your natural affinities. Wind and water are the strongest, so either could form the basis of your Way. Both if you wanted. Add to that your choice of weapon and the weapon art you already have in hand, and I have what I think will be the ideal art for you.”

As he spoke they passed the second floor and continued toward the third. The buzzing turned into a veritable roar. The third floor? That was reserved for Third Realm disciples. He wasn’t even certain a first-year disciple would normally be granted access at all. Unless they performed some great task far beyond the sect’s expectations. It seemed anything was possible if you had a sect elder with you.

They wound through the maze of shelves piled with techniques and arts gathered by the sect and deemed suitable for the outer disciples. There were noticeably more jade slips here than on the lower floors. That made sense, as the slips were ideal for storing the intricate knowledge of arts suitable for cultivators of higher realms. Only one question hung over their walk through the pavilion. What sort of art would be stored on the third floor, yet still be suitable for someone still at the Qi Gathering stage?

When they finally arrived at their destination, it was clear that this section was not visited often, except by whoever had the routine job of keeping dust away from the dark and forgotten nook. What few bound manuals were here looked positively ancient. Even the jade slips showed visible signs of age, with occasional nicks and chips at their edges, and obvious wear in the binding twine. Elder Cai plucked a jade slip from a particularly out-of-the-way shelf and handed it to He Yu.

“The Cloud Emperor’s Heavenly Palace,” he said. “While a Foundation stage disciple can begin cultivating it, disciples below the Third Realm will be unable to advance it beyond its most rudimentary techniques. Thus it would be unsuitable for you under normal circumstances.”

He Yu couldn’t help his frown. That was the second time Elder Cai had referred to some unusual circumstances motivating this visit.

As expected of an Eighth Realm cultivator, the elder had noticed his reaction and nodded. “Do not mistake this for a simple gift or great fortune. If Zhang Lifen is correct in her estimation of your potential, and you prove capable of mastering this art, it will carry you to the heights of cultivation. Should you fail to master it,” Elder Cai shrugged. “No great loss. You should begin to cultivate that art only once you achieve the Foundation Stage. Now, go.”

Elder Cai’s projection vanished, leaving He Yu standing alone in a forgotten corner on the third floor of the outer sect’s manual pavilion. Holding a jade slip containing an art picked specifically for him by a sect elder. An art that could carry him to the heights of cultivation—and bring him one step closer to forging his legend.