What was Fire?

A process, a chemical reaction producing bright light, heat, and smoke. But it consumed materials from the physical world, burned in the physical world, and ended in the physical world.

So, what constituted a fire which came from the soul itself?

“Senior Brother, how come the vile Ah Fang has not been punished for her crimes?”

Those words broke me out of my thoughts, and I suddenly became aware of my surroundings again. Of the white paved road beneath my feet, bristling with fallen vegetation, the color of fire.

Of the imposing trees on each side of the pavement, thickened by a dissipating mane of fiery red leaves, sliding with the wind to the ground by the minute. Further, the sound of water flowing on a bed of rocks echoed in the background like a gentle whisper and ahead: the door.

Ebony curved tiles sitting atop of an imposing and tall crimson door, made out of what I assumed were the most extravagant materials. Supporting the structure, long and thick pillars of wood, reaching well above even the tallest of creatures and carved by delicate hands to depict wingless dragons along the rising length. Their fierce heads were to the sky and their fire threatened to break through the clouds made out of wool hanging by thousands of strings to the edge of the peeking tiles.

Growing left and right from the door, tall walls stretching onto the horizon like they never ended, the color of ashes and topped with the same curved tiles as the door itself.

If I had to give any point to the sect, it would be to the decorators.

“Senior Brother?”

“Hmm?” I turned to the one walking alongside me. Shoulder-length black hair sitting above a thin and somewhat feminine face, coupled with green and narrow eyes looking at the world like it was meant to be beneath him. In that case, his height and his physical build would have given him a semblance of credibility in my old world.

Here? He used to be a pebble in a desert—barely noticeable and slightly above average.

Until he broke through, that was, and looked like he went underneath medical surgery for his entire body. Again and again. Becoming one of the most handsome faces of this sect step by step.

No matter how beneficial breakthroughs were, they did not rearrange bone structure past adulthood. Even I knew as much from the memories of this body. Neither did they make people taller once your body was fully grown.

Except for him, Tian.

His background was even more ridiculous. An orphan, parents killed in a brutal demonic invasion, the kind this continent had never seen in thousands of years, and a once-in-a-lifetime genius who started getting recognition after being spat on for most of his life. And for cultivators, a lifetime was a very long time.

Once he was kicked out of his old sect, he disappeared for a while before coming back as the rising monster he is right now. Breaking through the ranks established by generations of cultivators existing before us—most who already ascended to a higher realm—like it was a joke.

He was changing the definition of genius just by existing.

And it obviously had nothing to do with the ring he always tried to hide from public view, but still kept wearing no matter what. The same one who lit up occasionally and that nobody, very conveniently, spoke up about.

I felt the urge to roll my eyes when his oily smile widened, muscles in my temple twitching from irritation and confusion.

“Do… do you plan on punishing that girl Ah Fang?” he asked, his eyes glinting with a light I didn’t like.

Ah Fang?

“Why?” I raised an eyebrow at his question. I knew who he was talking about, but I could not piece together why he was talking about punishment.

“Obviously, for her transgression towards esteemed Senior Brother!”

I paused, my feet coming to an abrupt stop.

“Maybe simply teaching her a lesson in bed would do?”

The wind rose and coiled against my skin, bringing a couple of leaves with it.

“...” Excuse me?

“Or a cauldron instead?” he continued, his eyes going to the bright sky while his left hand finding his chin in a thinking motion. “Making her a slave would be a fitting punishment for what she did, but… Ah, I must be foolish, what use does she have as a cauldron to the great Senior Brother? She’s a commoner after all…”

My eyes were wide open, fixing the door ahead of us.

“When you talk about Ah Fang... do you mean the girl who yesterday, by inadvertence, bumped into me...?” I said slowly, to internalize each word I uttered.

“Exactly!” He nodded.

“...” I stared at him.

He took my expression in and sighed to himself. “If you wish, I can take care of the rather annoying task of making her pay for what she did…? I must apologize for my oversight, I did not realize how time-wasting it would be for you to deal with those matters as an inner disciple of the sect.”

“...” My mouth opened, but I had nothing to say.

This was my clue. No more indecision.

It was time to get the hell out of here.

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The elders are nothing but fools, was the thought rolling around in Ping Bao’s mind, sitting with his legs crossed in the room dedicated for his usage while he was in the sect.

Rising anger forced one of the pillars of this sect to take deep breaths, not understanding why those at the top refused to see the value in the young boy.

Ping Bao, after calming down, took a sip and looked around his office. A rather austere one, he had no need for decoration. He spent little time in the sect anyway, idle paintings and still engravings gathering dust would serve little purpose. A desk, a library, and a clock were all he needed, the white cushioned pillows—made out of the body of a famous monster sheep defeated centuries ago—under him were the only component of this room he allowed himself to splurge on. His eyes lurked around, following each fiber of the wooden walls.

The treated wood was sturdy and could endure effort like no other.

Ping Bao sighed, bringing his cup to his lips again. Effort was far from being enough to create a sect.

Someone entered the vicinity, making him pause. The Qi presence moving through the corridors was approaching, and Ping Bao followed it. When a knuckle came in contact with the door sitting opposite of his desk, he was expecting it.

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“You may enter.”

And when the door opened, sliding to the right, revealing Liu Wei, he was also expecting it.

“What can I do for you, Disciple Liu Wei?” he asked, gazes joining as he lifted his head to look at the young man.

The light coming from the opened window behind him revealed inner turmoil on Liu Wei’s face. His gaze was intense, and his jaw was tightened. Impatience maybe? Ping Bao made no assumptions of the sort, Liu Wei had proven many times to be one willing to take the long way, even if it offered meager rewards in exchange for his training.

“I apologize for the disturbance,” said Liu Wei, bowing and clasping his fists in front of him—a formal greeting. “I came to learn if my request had been answered,” he said, a confident smile covering his face once he lifted it.

Bold.

Ping Bao smirked.

Before long, however, the corners of his lips lowered, a thin line appearing in the stead of the smile.

“Disciple… Liu Wei…” The clock chimed, striking within each pause in the older man’s speech. It rang loud enough that Liu Wei found his eyes wandering away from his face to go look for it.

When he located it, standing at his right, between the door behind him and the bookshelf, filled with books, each pulsating with qi, and with covers made of coarse leather, he was met with Ping Bao’s stern gaze once more.

“Finished?” the man asked; his temperament like his voice—showing age through its seriousness.

Wei nodded.

Bao’s finger was stabbed into his half-empty cup of tea, swirling while he never broke eye contact. The steam rising from the hot liquid obscuring the face of the older man.

“You are an oddity, Disciple Liu Wei,” he said, pausing in favor of sipping at his tea, still steaming hot.

Wei kept his hands behind his back, which was as straight as an arrow, unwilling to back down from Bao’s gaze.

“Joined the sect at twelve, became a certified disciple at thirteen, only to hit the inner circle at twenty and plateau ever since…”

“That is correct,” agreed the disciple. No emotions could be felt in his tone.

“Quite frankly, you hold no value to us.” Bao’s sipped again, watching the documents in front of him, stacked on the desk. “While it is applaudable of you to reach this level with no talent to speak of, it is also arrogant of you to think you have what it takes to create a sect. Determination, discipline… those are accessories, here to embellish what is shining—talent, and resources.”

“That is… correct.” The same answer. The same confidence.

Bao’s eyes rose again, meeting Wei’s, staring into the green pupils, trying to pierce through them.

“Both, extremely important for the creation of a sect,” continued the older man. “On the other hand… what do you think of the masses’, the commoner’s thoughts when they see a young man struggle at every turn of his life, fight desperately, and scrape everything, to pursue a greatness that should have been denied to him? And then, succeed at the end, achieving it?”

Wei’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. He squared his shoulders at the same time. “I do not know, Senior Brother.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

“...They think it’s exemplary. They think it’s grandiose. Fools, the lot of them… but it is not my place to judge. And it certainly isn’t my place, to take that away from them,” said Bao, pointing a finger towards Wei.

This time, a wrinkle appeared between Wei’s brows.

“In the end, though they possess eyes, Mount Tai still hides from them, far above their reach. They cannot see the limit you should have hit. And that makes your popularity unchanging, thus usable for... us.”

The clock ticked again. Twice this time. Two ticks between which Bao sipped at his tea. Wei stood still, fixing the older man with a newfound intensity, eyes narrowed.

“Though, the techniques the sect gave you are nothing but parlor tricks, able to entertain the crowd at best. Nothing to threaten anyone with,” he followed with.

Wei’s eyes widened, but he didn’t budge. “If so—”

“It also means, you are not a danger to our secrecy and integrity, were you to leave.”

“...Indeed.” Was Wei’s simple answer. His shoulders relaxed, and the tension in his temple released.

“The elders, they do not see your value, Disciple Liu Wei.”

“I see,” said the young man, his lips curling slightly.

“In the end, one making their sect at such low cultivation isn’t unheard of—for a sect master. Though hard, it is your own path to take, your own destiny to seize, and the elders… share the same sentiment.”

“I am eternally grateful,” said Wei, bowing once more. He stepped back, ready to turn around and leave. Before he could take another step, he heard the older man speak from behind.

“If I may, is there a reason behind your sudden change? Though I was not personally invested in you, it seemed your will to create your path, away from the Crimson Phoenix Sect, took everyone by surprise.”

“...”

“If it is something too personal, then forget my request—”

"A dream.” His tone turned wistful.

Bao finished his tea, before pointing out, “Rather vague.”

“Yes…” Wei sighed. “You are right. But it’s a dream nonetheless. One... not even mine, to begin with.” He turned around, the gaze he held telling everything the senior needed to know. “But one I shall venture anyway, to see if I can make a change.”

“I see.”

The clock’s toll echoed once more.

“You are determined.”

“Yes,” nodded Wei.

“With no resources to draw upon, no backing to rely upon, and no reputation to speak of?”

“Yes.”

The disappointment in Wei’s reckless ambition showed in his thinned lips. However, the trail of thoughts continued, giving way to wood’s natural enemy—and the core element of the Crimson Phoenix Sect.

Fire…? Ping Bao mentally considered. He pondered for a moment on the matter, his eyes narrowing into slits.

“...Disciple Liu Wei, have you ever thought about what fire is?”

One side of Bao’s lips curled into a quiet smirk, shifting his original let-down face to something else. Mayhap Liu Wei was far more suited to wield the beauty of fire than he had first imagined.

Wei’s hands tightened behind his back, while he sighed, gaining a sad smile like he was close to something seemingly so far away. His mouth opened, silent words slipping by his lips, but the only ones he gave voice to were, “I have.”

The older man fixed the younger for a moment, trying to gauge him, but his smile did not falter. After a moment, Ping Bao replied, “You may rejoice, Liu Wei, from now on, you are no longer a disciple of this sect.”

“I shall no longer waste your time either—my feet will find themselves out of the compound immediately.”

Still from his seated position, he nodded to the young man. “May the Heavens favor you, Liu Wei, for only the Heavens know whether your dream shall burn bright or burn you.”

Liu Wei’s smile turned into a smirk. He bowed, turned around, and left the room.

Right as he was about to close the door behind him, Bao added, “Oh, and congratulations on your breakthrough.”

Wei’s lips twitched, then they stilled.

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That smirk disappeared rather quickly. The busy and loud crowd came and went. We weren’t in one of the main streets of this city, yet the sound was deafening, and the throng made it difficult to navigate through the streets and alleys of the Darkmoon City. I craned my head around, not completely turning my body, and watched the passing people for a moment.

It was an ocean of flat and wide parasols. The forms were the same, but most looked very different from one another, making for a rather diverse ocean—both in color and in patterns. I wrinkled my nose more than once, the subtle stench of sweat tickling my nostrils, I could hear the puffs and I could almost feel the uncomfortable headaches from the populace. And it wasn’t hard to guess the reason why: the sun was burning up this place.

I even spotted an old man, wearing a long robe—just like most here did—falter for a moment and fall to a knee. A young boy next to him caught him… and I couldn’t see the rest of the scene—washed away by the sea of people.

I hoped he was fine.

If it wasn’t for my constitution as a cultivator, I probably wouldn’t have been able to stay underneath the bright blue sky for long either. Even if it didn’t do anything to me, at least nothing I could tell, the heat on my nape when I turned my back to the burning star was still noticeable, and only kept climbing as I stayed.

It was with a sigh that I returned to my more important matter.

“...” I watched the wooden board in front of me. On it, properties. Pictures, which I’d stop trying to learn how they managed to take them—concluding on cultivation bullshit. From empty land to recent constructions, and everything in between.

I glanced at the prices under each possession around the city. No, rather, I stared at it. And then I stared at the pouch in my hands. My brows furrowed, a wrinkle appearing between both.

This is going to be difficult…

Who would have thought my first tribulation in this world, of all things, would be finding a decent place to start my sect in.