The sun hung high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the lone figure making his way up the mountain. Clad in a simple white robe, Huan Ko ascended the ancient steps carved into the mountain's side. Each step, smoothed by centuries of use, wound upwards in a seemingly endless spiral, disappearing into the mist above. Small markers dotted the path, indicating every fifty-yard change in elevation, but Huan paid them little mind. His focus was on the goal that awaited him at the top.
Determination was etched into Huan's face as he continued his ascent. The first few thousand steps were manageable, his muscles, strengthened by years of labor and cultivation, carrying him with relative ease. But as he climbed higher, the strain began to show. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his breath came in labored gasps. The qi in the air grew denser, pressing down on him with an almost tangible force despite his relic, and every step felt heavier than the last.
He paused, leaning against the cool stone wall of the mountain, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. The silence of the mountain enveloped him, broken only by the distant rustling of leaves in the breeze. He had reached the altitude where birds no longer flew, and yet he was still too low to hear any sign of the other disciples that Zhi Hao had mentioned. But Huan didn’t linger long; he pushed off the wall and resumed his climb, his resolve unshaken.
As he neared the summit, the mist began to thin, revealing the formidable compound that housed the masters of the Tianyun Sect. His legs trembled with exhaustion as he finally reached the top, but after a brief moment of rest, they regained their strength—a small gift from his cultivation, even if he wasn’t very deep into it.
At the end of the stairs stood a tall, imposing gate made of ancient wood, its surface weathered but strong. Huan reached out, feeling the rough texture of the wood beneath his fingers as he pushed the gates open with surprising ease.
Beyond the gate, a large courtyard spread out before him, surrounded by towering trees whose leaves rustled softly in the mountain breeze. The entrance ceremony was in full swing, a gathering of elders and disciples, both new and old. At the far end of the courtyard stood the elders, their faces lined with age and wisdom, and among them, Huan recognized Long Li, his casual demeanor contrasting with the formality of the occasion.
Flanking either side of the courtyard were the disciples, standing in neat rows. Huan joined Mei, who was already standing in line, her eyes wide with awe as she took in their surroundings. Her excitement was infectious, and despite his fatigue, Huan found himself standing a little taller, pushing aside the weariness from the climb.
A stern-faced woman with hair as white as snow stepped forward from the line of elders. When she spoke, her voice carried across the courtyard with ease, commanding the attention of everyone present.
"Today, you stand at the threshold of a new life," she began, her tone solemn. "The Tianyun Sect has stood for centuries, a beacon of cultivation and wisdom. By joining our ranks, you take on the responsibility of upholding our traditions."
Her gaze swept over the assembled disciples, both new and old. Huan met her gaze, refusing to look away.
"Some of you will rise to great heights," she continued. "Others will fall by the wayside. Your fate is in your own hands. Work hard, stay true to our teachings, and you will one day stand among the greatest cultivators in the world."
The ceremony continued a blur of formal words and solemn oaths. Huan repeated the words as required, pledging his loyalty to the sect. As he did so, he had no doubt that he would assuredly fulfill his oaths despite his broken core. Heaven already decided his importance, and nothing would stop him from rising to its level.
With the ceremony concluded, the disciples began to disperse. Some returned to their training, eager to continue their cultivation, while others gathered around Mei, eager to see what the newcomer could offer. Huan, however, was largely ignored. The rumors of his inability to cultivate had already spread among the ranks, marking him as an outcast before he had even begun.
As Huan stood alone, a ripple passed through the crowd, and he turned to see Long Li approaching. The senior master moved with an air of authority, and the disciples parted to let him through.
"As I recruited you, you are my direct disciple," Long Li said, his tone matter-of-fact. "As a new disciple, you will be expected to contribute to the sect's daily operations. Your duties will include sweeping the training grounds, fetching water for the meditation groves, and assisting with the maintenance of the common areas."
Huan listened in silence, his expression neutral. It was clear that these tasks were typically reserved for servants or the lowest-ranking disciples. His status as an outsider, coupled with his broken core, had placed him at the bottom of the sect's hierarchy.
"You will begin tomorrow at dawn," Long Li continued. "Perform your duties diligently, and after you've completed them, you may make use of the sect's resources."
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With that, Long Li waved his hand dismissively, a gesture that Huan was beginning to recognize as his trademark. Huan bowed respectfully and made his way out of the compound, the journey through the crowd much more difficult than Long Li’s effortless path. His mind raced with plans, but his priority was to explore the sect’s resources and fulfill his promise to Long Li.
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The days that followed were a blur of activity. Each morning, Huan rose before dawn, his body aching from the previous day's labor. He began his duties by sweeping the training grounds, clearing away the dust and debris left by the other disciples. As he worked, he observed their training, studying their movements and techniques. Though he couldn’t practice them himself, he absorbed every detail, storing the knowledge away for future use.
After the training grounds were clean, Huan made his way to the mountain stream to fetch water for the meditation groves. The path was steep and treacherous, and the buckets were heavy, but Huan persevered. With each trip, he felt his body growing stronger, the high density of qi, though lessened by the relic, accelerating his physical development.
In the afternoons, Huan assisted with various maintenance tasks around the sect. He repaired fences, tended to the gardens, and cleaned the common areas. The work was hard, but it wasn’t unfamiliar to him.
Despite his efforts, Huan couldn’t escape the whispers and sideways glances from the other disciples. They saw him as a curiosity, a cultivator who couldn’t cultivate. Some pitied him, others mocked him, but most simply ignored him.
One particularly hot afternoon, as Huan carried buckets of water up the mountain path, he encountered a group of disciples lounging in the shade. One of them, a tall boy with a sneer on his face, stuck out his foot as Huan passed.
Huan saw the foot too late and stumbled, the buckets tipping over and spilling their contents across the path. Laughter erupted from the group as Huan sprawled on the ground, soaked and muddy.
"Watch where you’re going, useless one," the tall boy said with disdain. "Or are you too weak to even carry water properly?"
Huan slowly got to his feet, his face impassive. He said nothing, simply retrieving his buckets and heading back down the mountain to refill them. The laughter of the disciples followed him, even after he got out of the range of their voices, but he refused to show any of it on his face. He knew any sign of weakness would be exploited.
In the evenings, after his duties were complete, Huan made his way to the sect’s library. The library was vast, its shelves lined with slips detailing cultivation techniques, sect history, and arcane lore. Huan couldn’t practice the techniques, but he devoured the knowledge, studying the theory behind qi circulation and memorizing the meridian points in the human body. He pored over accounts of legendary cultivators, hoping to find something that might help him.
One evening, as Huan was deeply engrossed in a slip detailing advanced sword techniques, a shadow fell across the table. He looked up to see Zhi Hao standing there, a smirk on his face.
"Well, well," Zhi Hao said, his voice dripping with genuine confusion, " Tell me, Huan Ko, what use is all this reading to someone like you? You can't even circulate qi, let alone use any of these techniques."
Huan met Zhi Hao's gaze calmly, "Knowledge is never wasted," he replied simply.
Zhi Hao's mouth twisted into a sneer.
"Knowledge without implementation is useless," he spat, “A legless man that knows how to walk is no different from one that doesn’t.”
He continued, his tone turning sour, "You're wasting your time here, Huan Ko. You should quit now before you waste our resources.”
With that, Zhi Hao turned and strode away, leaving Huan alone at the table. Huan watched him go. For some, the doubt of others may cause a lack of confidence, but for Huan, it only served as fuel for the flame of his desire to prove them wrong.
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One day, as Huan was leaving the library he nearly collided with Mei. Her face lit up when she saw him.
"Huan!" she exclaimed, "I feel like I hardly see you anymore. How are you? Isn't the sect amazing?"
Huan managed a small smile. "It is. How are you advancing?"
Mei’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "Oh, it’s incredible! I’ve learned so much already. The elder teaching us qi circulation says I have a natural talent for it. I’ve already opened five of the twelve meridians."
As Mei continued to talk about her progress, Huan listened quietly, careful to keep his expression positive. He was happy for her, truly, but he couldn't help the twinge of envy that twisted in his gut.
Another fact that tugged at his mind as she spoke was the continual differences between the cultivation manuscript that was imprinted into his mind and the manuscripts he found in the library. Meridian count was one thing, but there were also differences in what stages were there and the cut-off of each stage.
"Oh!" Mei exclaimed suddenly, "Long Li spoke to me the other day. He said that I have the potential to become a Cauldron for him. Isn’t that exciting? He said it’s a role of great importance, but I’ll have to develop correctly over the next few years."
Huan's brow furrowed slightly. He had never heard of a "Cauldron" in the context of a person, only pills, but Mei's excitement was infectious, "That’s wonderful! I’m sure you’ll reach your goals," he said, trying to match her enthusiasm.
Mei beamed at him. "What about you, Huan? How are your studies going?"
"It's going well," he said, "I'm learning a lot from the sect's resources."
Mei's smile widened. "I'm so glad," she said, "We're so lucky to be here, aren't we?"
Huan nodded, forcing a smile. "We certainly are," he agreed.
As Mei waved goodbye and hurried back to her quarters, Huan watched her go, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. He was glad that Mei was thriving, but her success only highlighted his struggles. If she ever found out about those bullying him, wouldn’t she try to fight them? Heaven’s chosen can’t have a little girl fight his battles for him.
He may not be able to cultivate like the others, but he would find his own path. He would show them all that even a broken core couldn't hold him back.
With renewed determination, Huan turned and headed back to his quarters. Tomorrow was another day, another chance to prove himself. And Huan Ko was nothing if not persistent.