Restlessness gnawed at Jiuwei. A prickly energy made her fur itch, her paws twitch.

The inn’s cramped confines, the mortals’ incessant chatter—it all grated on her nerves, a symphony of mediocrity that chafed against her ancient spirit.

'Whispers of power, hidden agendas…' she thought, her golden eyes narrowing. She paced restlessly across the table, the faint scent of intrigue tugging at her senses.

'There’s more to this Conclave than meets the eye. More than feasts and low-level cultivator squabbles. Something deeper is at play, some truth not yet revealed.'

Fatty Wu stood by the small cooking area, his sleeves rolled up as he busied himself with a steaming pot. The rich aroma of braised pork and fragrant spices filled the air, a stark contrast to the tension that lingered among them. He hummed absentmindedly, his hands moving with practiced ease, chopping fresh herbs and stirring the simmering broth with the patience of someone who found solace in routine.

Lin Mei sat nearby, cradling a cup of wine between her fingers, her expression distant. She had barely taken a sip, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. The flickering lantern light cast shifting shadows across her face, accentuating the furrow in her brow. Every now and then, she would tilt her head slightly, as if listening to an unspoken thought, her grip on the cup tightening before she exhaled slowly, attempting to still the restless storm within her.

She glanced at Tian Hao. He was sprawled across a pile of cushions, snoring softly, his face slack, his breathing deep and even. An empty wine cup rested precariously on his chest, his hand still loosely curled around it as if he had fallen asleep mid-sip. Scattered dishes lay around him, remnants of their feast forming a chaotic display of indulgence. A half-eaten skewer dangled from his fingers, the grease soaking into the fabric beneath him, a testament to his utter lack of concern for decorum even in sleep.

’Foolish mortal,’ Jiuwei mused, her tail flicking dismissively. 'Oblivious to the currents swirling around him, content in their little bubble of indulgence. Though…'

A flicker of something akin to affection softened her gaze as she thought back on his unwavering loyalty. 'He does have a certain… charm. A recklessness that borders on brilliance, that makes his path almost as unpredictable as my own. Some shared essence that even my diminished form cannot ignore.'

Perhaps there was more to him than met the eye—a hidden strength, a nascent power waiting to be unleashed.

'Or perhaps,' she added with a sardonic twist, 'he’s just incredibly lucky.'

A sudden surge of impatience pulsed through her. 'I cannot sit idly by,' she decided, her golden eyes gleaming with mischief and determination. 'I am Jiuwei, after all. Guardian of Realms. My senses are sharp, my instincts honed by millennia of experience. I’ll uncover the truth myself. These mortals… they would only slow me down.'

With a swift, graceful leap, Jiuwei slipped out the window, her small form a blur of silver against the backdrop of the night. ’Let the games begin,’ she thought, her tiny paws barely touching the ground as she darted through the darkened alleyways, the city’s whispers now guides rather than mere distractions.

She moved like a shadow, slipping between pools of moonlight and darkness. The city's nocturnal symphony played around her—the distant murmur of hushed conversations, the rhythmic thud of hurried footsteps, the occasional burst of laughter. Each sound wove together, forming an invisible map of Skyveil’s hidden currents.

Her nose twitched. A faint scent curled through the air, subtle yet distinct. Qi lingered in every breath, some rich with vitality, others tinged with something more elusive. Each aroma whispered secrets, murmured hints of power and intrigue buried beneath the city's surface.

Jiuwei followed the trail, her senses honed, her instincts sharp. The city had its own language, and tonight, she would decipher it.

She found her path following not the well-lit thoroughfares, those brightly lit avenues of cultivation’s more public face but towards where the shadows gathered, towards the nexus where the city’s darker energy pulsed beneath the illusion.

An ancient building loomed before her, its weathered stone walls whispering of authority and secrecy. Unlike the bustling tea houses and merchant stalls surrounding it, this structure exuded a quiet, imposing menace.

Two guards stood at the entrance, their robes emblazoned with the Celestial Conclave’s insignia. Their faces were grim, their auras rigid with disciplined vigilance.

'Amateurs,' Jiuwei scoffed, her tail flicking dismissively. 'Their focus is outward, their senses dulled by routine. They see only what they expect to see, hear only what they think they should listen for.'

A slow smirk curled at the edges of her thoughts. 'They do not understand the true nature of shadows—the whispers that dance in the spaces between perception and reality.'

With a swift, effortless movement, Jiuwei slipped through a narrow gap in the gate, her small size an advantage they had not accounted for, her very presence a mockery of their careful vigilance.

She moved through the dimly lit hallways, her paws padding softly on the stone floor, her shadow a fleeting whisper against the intricate carvings that adorned the walls.

Each surface bore a depiction of the Celestial Conclave's past glories—scenes of legendary duels, triumphant cultivators ascending to higher realms, and ancient formations pulsing with power. The chiseled stonework seemed less like decoration and more like a lesson carved into history itself.

'So much history,' Jiuwei mused, her golden eyes scanning the engravings. 'So much ambition and so much… foolishness. These mortals cling to their traditions, their rituals, as though they hold the key to unlocking the universe’s secrets. They never realize that true power lies not in following the well-worn path, but in forging one’s own—in the whispers of what they do not dare consider possible.'

She came to a heavy wooden door, its surface carved with intricate symbols, a faint hum of spiritual energy emanating from within. 'This is it,' she thought, her senses tingling with anticipation. The door was slightly ajar, a careless oversight by those who thought themselves secure within this sacred space, and with a silent push, she slipped into the chamber.

An elaborate, crescent moon-shaped relic, its surface shimmering with a soft, ethereal glow, rested on a raised platform in the center of the room. The artifact's craftsmanship was exquisite, the silver metal intricately carved with symbols of power and ancient knowledge, its very presence radiating an aura of ancient, celestial energy.

Jiuwei’s eyes widened as she recognized the relic. It was a Moonstone Echo—a rare artifact capable of recording and projecting spiritual imprints, a tool used by high-ranking cultivators to preserve knowledge and transmit messages across vast distances.

Her curiosity piqued, she padded softly towards the relic, her gaze fixed on its intricate carvings, her nose twitching as she took in the subtle aroma of ancient power that wafted from it, clear to her Qi senses.

’Such a crude imitation of true celestial artistry,’ she mused, her tail flicking dismissively, though she couldn’t deny the allure of the relic. ’Still, for a mortal creation, it’s… not entirely without merit.'

As she leaned in for a closer look, her paw accidentally brushed against a stray ribbon of silk draped across the pedestal. The delicate fabric coiled around her leg like a snake, pulling taut just as she tried to step back. Off-balance, she stumbled forward, her nose knocking into the relic.

Panic surged through her as the Moonstone Echo wobbled. She lunged, tail whipping wildly for balance, only to slip on the polished stone floor. In a desperate bid, she hooked a claw onto the nearest tapestry, yanking it down with a muffled rip. The added weight sent her sprawling—and the relic teetering.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

It was a slow, agonizing moment. She scrambled to catch it, paws flailing, eyes wide with dawning horror. But gravity had already claimed its prize.

The Moonstone Echo tumbled, clattering against the stone floor. The impact rang out like a thunderclap, reverberating through the silent chamber like the heavens themselves had just passed judgment on her clumsiness.

Jiuwei clenched her teeth, a low growl rumbling in her throat. This was unacceptable. Once, she had soared through the heavens, her power vast, her presence commanding. Now, she was reduced to sneaking through hallways, tripping over fabric like some lowly street animal.

She lashed her tail in irritation, her frustration bubbling over. 'This is not who I am,' she thought fiercely. 'I am Jiuwei, Guardian of Realms. Not some bumbling, weak—' She cut herself off, the words tasting bitter. Because right now, that was exactly what she was. Diminished. Struggling. A shadow of what she had been.

Her golden eyes burned as she glared at the fallen relic, as if it were the source of her frustration instead of herself. She could feel the echoes of power thrumming in her veins, remnants of what she once was, teasing her with their presence yet always just beyond reach. The helplessness gnawed at her, a sensation she had not known in centuries.

But she would not let it consume her. No—this was merely a setback. A trial. One that she would overcome. She forced herself to breathe, steadying the turmoil within. Even if her strength was not what it once was, she was still Jiuwei. And she would find a way to reclaim what was hers. She had to.

A blinding light filled the room, its impact triggering a hidden mechanism. Jiuwei’s eyes widened as an ethereal projection shimmered into existence above the fallen artifact. It was the image of a stern-faced sect leader, his robes adorned with the insignia of the Celestial Conclave, his presence radiating an almost palpable aura of authority. He seemed to be addressing a small group of high-ranking individuals, their faces obscured by shadows.

The recording began to play, the sect leader’s voice echoing through the chamber. "The Celestial Convergence,” he declared, his voice echoing in the otherwise empty space, his gaze now fixed on the unseen audience, "is not merely a celebration. It is a key. A gateway to a realm of untold power. The sects who participate in the ritual will gain access to this realm—a realm filled with treasures, ancient knowledge, and the very essence of… ascension itself."

As the sect leader’s voice echoed in the chamber, the projection flickered, the image distorting as faint static-like energy rippled through it. The once-clear visage wavered, lines of energy crackling unpredictably along the relic’s surface. Then, without warning, the voice cut off mid-sentence, replaced by a hollow, fragmented hum.

A shallow crack ran along the artifact’s base, a clear sign of the impact’s damage. The ethereal glow that had once shone brightly dimmed to a weak, erratic pulse, as though struggling to maintain its form. Bits of fragmented voices sputtered in and out, words lost in garbled echoes, before the entire projection collapsed inward, vanishing in a brief flash of silver light.

Silence followed, thick and foreboding. Jiuwei’s ears flattened, her tail twitching. Whatever had been recorded, whatever secrets had been hidden within the Moonstone Echo, were now lost—or at least, damaged beyond immediate recovery.

Still, it was enough to know that this wasn’t just some black-market deal or a petty squabble between rival sects. She had stumbled onto something far worse.

The implications clawed at her mind. This sect gathering, these tournaments, it was nothing but a facade. Beneath the surface, something older lurked.

Celestial Convergence.

Whatever it was, the very name sent a shiver through her. Even in her diminished state, she could feel it, a resonance in the air. A hum, subtle yet inescapable, thrumming against her blood, as if her very being recognized a power far beyond her reach.

As the projection faded, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed from the hallway—someone had heard the noise. Jiuwei’s eyes darted towards the window, its narrow opening a sliver of hope against being discovered.

With a growl of frustration, she reached down with her teeth, tearing the silk ribbon from her paw. The delicate fabric resisted for only a moment before yielding, fluttering to the ground in a crumpled heap. "Useless mortal trappings," she muttered, giving it one last disdainful flick with her tail before resuming her escape.

She darted towards the narrow window, but hesitated for the briefest of moments as the guards’ voices grew louder behind her. Their footsteps echoed against the stone walls, each step a reminder that discovery was only heartbeats away. Her ears flicked back, muscles tensing. Then, with a final burst of speed, she launched herself forward into the night.

Just then, the door swung open, revealing two guards. Their faces were grim as they scanned the room, eyes sweeping across the chamber in suspicion.

Jiuwei dropped softly to the stone pathway below, pausing only long enough to cast a final, amused glance back at the room.

“What was that noise?” one of the guards asked.

“I swear, I heard something fall. Why has this thing fallen over?” He pointed at the artifact.

“Must be those blasted alley cats again. I told Commander Zhao we should seal these windows, they’re getting brazen. We’ve been tasked with protecting these things, not sweeping up their fur.”

“Cats? In here?” The guard scoffed, then sighed, rubbing his face. "Yeah, sure. Let’s go with that. If anyone asks, it was just some stray sneaking in. No need to make this more complicated than it needs to be."

The guard’s gaze swept over the room, settling on the fallen Moonstone Echo. “We need to get this cleaned up before the elders find out. If they think we’ve been careless, we’ll be on patrol duty in the lower districts for the next year.”

“I swear, we’re supposed to guard these things, not fix them every time something falls over,” the other guard muttered, rubbing his temples. “Come on, let’s get this upright and make sure nothing’s actually broken. If we report it before they notice, maybe we won’t get blamed.”

----------------------------------------

Back at the Humble Petal Inn, the night was supposed to be uneventful. Fatty Wu had just finished his late-night snack preparations, Lin Mei was attempting to meditate, and Tian Hao, for once, had stayed quiet, falling asleep after nursing a cup of wine. The weight of the day's events pressed down on them, unspoken but heavy in the air.

It was Fatty Wu who noticed first. He sat up abruptly, crumbs falling from his fingers as he glanced around with a frown. "Where’s Jiuwei?"

Lin Mei's eyes snapped open. "She was here earlier… wasn’t she?"

Tian Hao blinked, his drunken haze clearing slightly as he glanced at the empty cushion where the fox had been curled up before. "That little troublemaker… she slipped out?"

A cold weight settled in the room. With the recent events surrounding the Conclave, none of them could afford to take any risks. The anxiety, which had been simmering beneath the surface, surged forth in full force. Without another word, Lin Mei stood and moved to the window, her sharp gaze scanning the streets below. "We need to find her."

Just as they were about to step out, the window burst open with a sudden rush of air, almost hitting Lin Mei in the face.

Jiuwei landed on the table in a blur of silver, her breathing rapid, her eyes wide, her small body trembling from the near encounter.

“You’re back!” Tian Hao exclaimed, relief washing over him. “Where did you go? We were starting to think you’d… eloped with a street vendor selling candied spirit bugs.” He couldn’t help but tease, despite the obvious worry, and the way the little fox’s fur still seemed ruffled, her eyes still gleaming from whatever she’d just encountered.

“I found something,” she said, her tiny voice strained, urgent. “Something… important. Something that could change… everything.”

A hushed explanation followed as Jiuwei recounted what she’d witnessed in the restricted chamber—the secret ritual, the hidden realm, the sect leader’s pronouncements. She described the Celestial Convergence, the immense power it promised, the danger it posed.

Tian Hao nodded, a determined glint in his eyes. “You said this recording mentioned a ritual, a hidden realm. What else do you remember?”

Jiuwei shook her head slightly, still trying to piece together the fragments of knowledge she had gathered. Ancient lore, whispered secrets, the echoes of celestial forces—something in what she overheard resonated, though the full picture remained elusive.

“They spoke of a gateway to immense power,” she murmured, her voice low with thought. "A way to access a hidden realm. But it’s not just about power or knowledge—it’s something more. Something... greater."

Her golden eyes flickered with an unreadable emotion, her tiny paws flexing as though she could feel the pulse of the words she had just spoken. "The ritual requires artifacts, celestial alignments—perhaps even more. There's a pattern to it, a design I have yet to fully unravel."

She exhaled sharply, frustration clear in the flick of her tail. "I need to remember more. There’s a connection here, I know it."

She shuddered, her eyes narrowing as if something dark had brushed the edges of her own memory. She looked towards Tian Hao, her gaze sharpening, "It’s all connected somehow.”

Tian Hao's eyes widened slightly. "This isn't just about inter-sect rivalry anymore, is it? It’s far more complicated."

He glanced at Lin Mei, the weight of his decision settling upon him. The past few days had already entangled them deeper than he ever intended, but this—this was no longer about personal grudges or minor sect power struggles.

“If we want to protect our sect, or anyone here, and not just Lin Mei’s family,” his voice dropped, his gaze hardening, “we have no choice but to act. The Iron Talon Sect—they aren’t just gathering information or playing politics. They’re setting something in motion. Something bigger. Something that could shatter the balance between all of the sects.”

He exhaled, shaking his head. "Great. Because drawing their attention last time went so well for us. Maybe next time, we should just send them an invitation?" He ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "Still... we can't ignore this."

Lin Mei’s hands tightened around her cup, her earlier worries momentarily forgotten. Yet, as she stared into the swirling liquid, a thought coiled in the back of her mind. If the Celestial Convergence was as significant as Jiuwei claimed, then what did that mean for her own place in all of this?

A shadow of uncertainty flickered in her eyes, her grip on the cup tightening as the weight of the unknown pressed against her chest. "You're right. This isn't just about survival or reputation anymore. If we don't uncover the full extent of their plans, we could be walking straight into a far larger disaster."

Tian Hao nodded grimly. "Then we still go to the Silken Shadows Parlor. That’s where we’ll find our answers."