Winter came and went once again. By the time spring came around in what was to be He Yu’s twenty-second year, Li Heng and Tan Xiaoling had both advanced to middle Golden Core. Just as Zhang Lifen had said, Yi Xiurong seemed intent on bringing all five of them up. He Yu, Li Heng, and Tan Xiaoling were routinely given authority over small teams and ordered to strike against agents of the Sunset Court. As winter dragged on, those assignments—and their accompanying rewards—came less frequently.

After the first snows dusted the grounds of the inner sect mountain, Chen Fei announced she was going to attempt a breakthrough into the Fourth Realm. Soon after, she left for the higher peaks to the north, and was gone nearly all winter. When she returned, the change was immediately apparent.

She’d always been taller than He Yu. And most everyone else, with only a handful of exceptions. She wasn’t any physically taller, but when she returned, she seemed to tower over all those around her. Her presence had been steadily becoming more solid as she advanced. Her cultivation of the White Mountain Body Art made her feel like a literal mountain. Now her spirit reached deeper into the earth and closer to heaven than ever before.

She also carried herself with a newfound confidence—a self-certainty that He Yu thought she wore well. It was a change he had experience with himself.

Chen Fei’s success was the sole bright spot of the season, unfortunately. The sect’s campaign against the Sunset Court continued apace, but they made zero progress in tracking the Emissary. When He Yu had asked Zhang Lifen about it, she’d simply told him they would discover his whereabouts eventually. As the resources doled out as rewards for suppressing the court dried up, He Yu felt the pinch once more.

“So, what do you think?” Li Heng asked, passing a jar of wine.

They sat together under a peach tree, just outside a now ruined training arena. Spring was in full bloom, and vibrant pink blossoms littered the ground all around them. It was one of those rare days when the mists of the Shrouded Peaks parted, and patches of blue showed themselves above. Unseasonably warm, a promise of the approaching summer. He Yu took a deep drink of the wine. The warmth that spread through him was as much an effect of the alcohol as it was the infused qi.

“I don’t know,” he said. “It’s hard to tell just how things will go. I’m willing to try, don’t get me wrong, but I guess I’m just not as certain as you are.”

Li Heng had grown increasingly insistent they go after Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu as spring approached summer. He Yu couldn’t blame him. The two late Fourth Realm cultivators had—“as punishment,” in their words—taken to choking Li Heng of resources as well. At least Li Heng could request cultivation resources from his father, unlike He Yu.

Over the winter and spring, both He Yu and Li Heng had been busy. Deprived of resources from regular jobs and with the spoils from the court now drying up as well, they’d taken to challenging other disciples more and more often. They’d both shot up the ranks. He Yu now held rank three hundred twenty-seven. Li Heng was ranked three hundred thirty-five. A week ago, Zhang Lifen had come and warned them to hold off on ranked duels for the time being. If they climbed too much higher, it would be increasingly likely Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu would move against them directly.

Which had resulted in the first of many discussions about taking revenge.

“What if we asked Tan Xiaoling?” Li Heng asked.

That honestly surprised He Yu. He wouldn’t have thought that Li Heng’s pride would have allowed him to suggest such a thing. Then again, their relationship was far from secret and Tan Xiaoling would likely jump at the chance if they asked. Her Way pushed her into ever more unbalanced fights. She lost about as often as she won, and her sect rank was the most volatile out of all of theirs.

After thinking about it for some time, he rejected the idea. “No,” he said. “As much as I’m sure she’d love to join in, this is our fight. Our debt.”

Neither he nor Li Heng had fought against any late Fourth Realms since that first encounter. They had fought plenty of middle stage Golden Cores, though. As they rose through the middling ranks of the inner sect, they each established themselves as emerging powerhouses. It had struck He Yu as a bit odd at first. Weren’t the other disciples just as driven as he was? Weren’t they just as talented? If the other disciples at his own level were any indication, no.

The success they’d had so far was the only reason they even considered this. That, and the fact they’d pushed Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu further than they’d any right to during that first encounter. Obviously, the sensible thing would be to wait. Wait until they’d reached the late stage, at least. If they could get their hands on more resources, maybe even reach the peak.

But He Yu had never been very patient.

“It’ll be tough,” he mused, finishing off the last of his wine.

“Just think what it will do for our reputation should we win,” Li Heng said. “Nobody would dare oppose us.”

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Although he could see the benefit, He Yu cared little for that. He just wanted to complete jobs again. The only thing he cared for were the advancement resources locked behind their adversary’s treachery.

“I guess it’s decided then,” he said, standing. “We’ll have to do it publicly, though.”

“That will make it just as risky for us,” Li Heng said.

Issuing a challenge, even an informal one, wasn’t the sort of gambit anybody would consider sensible. Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu had very little to lose. A bit of face and whatever they carried on them. He Yu and Li Heng were too low ranked to issue a formal challenge, so the sect wouldn’t recognize the duel.

He Yu and Li Heng would have far more on the line. With their current lack of resources, anything they lost would represent a far larger portion of their individual wealth. Challenging their seniors publicly like this, then losing the fight, would do tremendous damage to their reputations as well. They were, however, more or less backed into a corner. If they wanted to regain access to sect resources, they’d have to fight, eventually.

“Yan Shirong should be able to help track them down,” He Yu said.

With Yan Shirong’s help, it didn’t take them long to find where Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu spent their days. They were in a large, open square on one of the higher peaks. Small groups of inner disciples milled about, mostly ranked in the two hundreds and higher. Aside from He Yu and Li Heng, nearly everyone was in the late Fourth Realm. As was typical of more advanced cultivators, they mostly ignored the approaching juniors.

When they came within a couple of dozen feet of Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu, He Yu summoned his guandao. He slammed the metal end-cap into the flagstones. The sound crashed over the plaza like thunder, and in an instant the weight of dozens of cultivators’ attention descended upon him.

“Wang Xiaobo! Xin Lu! I declare you both bandits and cowards! You have spent over a year depriving your juniors of resources, weakening the sect in the process. You have pursued a petty grudge against disciples who are no threat to you. You have demeaned yourselves by bullying your juniors. Swear before us all that you will cease this pursuit, or defend your honor against those you have wronged.”

Wang Xiaobo laughed. He made no move to draw his weapon, or even right himself from where he leaned against a tree. “Cease your barking, peasant dog.”

Next to him, Xin Lu frowned. Unlike Wang Xiaobo, he did call forth his weapon. He planted the end of his double halberd on the flagstones and lifted his chin. With an unwavering gaze, he met He Yu.

“Then you admit your cowardice?” Li Heng demanded.

A murmur passed through the gathered disciples. With the obvious difference in cultivation, there was a certain amount of leeway that could be afforded here. Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu could wave off an insult or two. He Yu and Li Heng could make a declaration and simply leave if it weren’t answered. But should they continue to press the issue, the longer that the more senior disciples allowed it to pass, the worse they looked.

“I admit nothing,” Wang Xiaobo said. Now he pushed off the tree and took a step forward. “You dare accuse us? I will be gracious, as you are still young. Leave now, and we will forget this insult.”

Xin Lu leaned over and muttered something into Wang Xiaobo’s ear. Wang Xiaobo shot him a glare before turning back to Li Heng and He Yu. Those gathered mostly watched.

There were, however, a few jeers thrown at the two late-stage Golden Cores.

“You have deprived us of advancement resources because you fear what we could become,” He Yu said. “You push around your juniors because you were incapable of defending yourself against this disciple’s master. You scrabble in the grass because you lack the ability to reach for the heavens.”

“Wang Xiaobo,” came a shout from the crowd. “You would let this whelp speak to you like that? Teach them a lesson before they step all over your pride.”

A chorus of agreement rose from the gathered onlookers. He Yu had to fight back both his smile and his nerves. Now that the crowd had turned on them, Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu would have no choice but to answer the challenge.

“Fine.” Wang Xiaobo took another step forward, his jian falling into his hand. “Remember, Junior Brother He, you brought this upon yourself. You challenged our honor and our pride, and you demanded that we face you.”

Wordlessly, Xin Lu joined Wang Xiaobo, and four presences broke across the plaza.

Wang Xiaobo was a blade, gleaming in the diffuse light of the Shrouded Peaks. Metal and killing intent blended to the now-familiar cold and sharp sensation that marked the presence of many higher-level cultivators. Water rushed out from Wang Xiaobo, the secondary and lesser of his aspects. It was still powerful, as was only fitting for a late Fourth Realm expert.

When Xin Lu joined his sword brother, he brought fire and heaven with him. Once more, his double halberd took on the shimmering golden-red glow that it had previously, as he infused the weapon with his techniques. Heat radiated out from him, and arcs of heaven qi crawled over his soldier’s garb. The sensation of unfiltered rage was joined by his killing intent. It was clear that Xin Lu and Wang Xiaobo weren’t going to make this easy.

Except, He Yu thought, they both seemed far less intimidating than they had the last time. He couldn’t be certain. The rush of blood in his ears and trembling anticipation made him want to surge forward and throw himself against these two in a clash of techniques.

Li Heng’s presence brought the biting cold of winter. The sky flickered, turned black, and then the world was bathed in silver. Hoarfrost crept out from where Li Heng stood, coating the flagstones white. White like the snow-lit field of his spirit. The temperature dropped, and He Yu could swear that—for the briefest moment—Li Heng’s spirit actually overpowered Xin Lu’s. Some of the nearby onlookers backed off as the hems of their robes gathered a coating of frost. They had to flex their own spirits to hold back Li Heng’s expanding presence. Far above, He Yu thought he could almost make out an image of the taiji, slowly rotating in a dark starry sky.

Finally, it was He Yu’s turn. With his presence came the storm. The slate-colored sky over the sect turned black. The smooth, featureless mist churned and seemed to boil as the clouds became turbulent and violent. Rain pattered against the flagstones, and another chorus of murmurs arose from the onlookers. A jagged finger of heavenly qi reached down. It touched He Yu’s guandao, and the brilliance of heaven exploded with a roar of thunder. The wind howled and drove the rain. Heaven crawled along his clothes and his weapon.

With an explosion of power, the four cultivators met in a clash of techniques.