Chapter 36

Chapter 36: I Only Believe in This

After Li Chao Ge left, Shao Heng sat alone in her room, staring at the empty doorway as if it might explain itself.

She had barely returned to the sect when Gu Xuan was already waiting at the entrance of the Law Enforcement Pavilion. Now Li Chao Ge had been posted outside her door too, as if she’d been there all afternoon.

It didn’t feel like deliberate surveillance. For now, both Gu Xuan and Li Chao Ge had come with clear intentions and no obvious malice—and they didn’t belong to the same side.

More likely, it was the simplest reason.

There were too many outer sect disciples.

Wherever you went, once someone recognized you, they could send a message with a paper crane or a talisman. News spread like sparks in dry grass.

Shao Heng clicked her tongue softly. She ought to visit the market and see whether there were any disguise techniques worth buying. Life would be a lot quieter if she could move through crowds without being noticed.

With no one else in the room, she took out a timing talisman, set it, and lay back on her cushion. For a rare moment, she let her mind go empty, eyes unfocused on the ceiling.

Since stepping onto the path of cultivation, she refused to stop. She’d never slept even once, meditating through every night. Even resting like this—doing nothing, thinking nothing—had become unfamiliar.

A short while later, the timing talisman chimed like a bell.

Shao Heng pushed herself up, tucked the talisman away, and headed out.

Dan Yang Mountain lay on the edge of the True One Yuan Sect’s territory. If the mission went smoothly, a round trip at their cultivation would take two to three days.

First, she needed to go to the spirit field and replenish Duo Bao’s Azure Emperor spirit liquid. Then she had to return to the Law Enforcement Pavilion to hand in missions and register the new first-class token.

—

At the True One Yuan Sect’s mountain gate, winter daylight was already draining away. There was still a little time before You Hour, but the sun had sunk behind the peaks, leaving only warm orange cloud-banks at the horizon.

Li Chao Ge arrived, presented her token, and registered with the guarding disciple. As soon as she stepped outside, she spotted a gray-clad girl standing off to the side, completely absorbed in a small booklet.

Shao Heng.

For travel beyond the sect, Li Chao Ge had changed out of her disciple robes. She wore a sapphire-blue dress that softened her sharp features without dimming them.

“Junior Sister Shao Heng,” she called, walking over. “Have you been waiting long?”

Shao Heng closed the booklet. The cover read Face-Changing Art.

“Not long,” Shao Heng said. “I went to the market, bought what I needed, and came straight here.”

She was a little shorter than Li Chao Ge and looked younger when she lifted her chin like this, brows calm and eyes bright.

“Let’s go.”

Li Chao Ge nodded—and then, with the slightest flourish, she drew something from her sleeve.

A tiny, exquisite boat.

She tossed it into the air, formed seals with both hands, and poured in spiritual power. In a few breaths, the little boat grew hundreds of times larger, becoming a floating spirit skiff.

“A spirit-boat artifact?” Shao Heng’s eyes widened, sudden delight shining through.

She couldn’t help it. Spirit boats were notorious among First Grade artifacts.

A functioning spirit boat had to fly, defend, and counterattack, which meant carving multiple supporting formations into its body. And every time it flew, constant airflow wore at its structure. Without top materials, it wouldn’t last. Even the simplest First Grade spirit skiff could cost several hundred spirit stones, and they were rare to find on the market at all.

Li Chao Ge smiled, clearly pleased by the reaction. “Junior Sister Shao Heng, this is a Hundred Rapids Skiff. It’s fairly fast. If we ride it to Dan Yang Mountain, it’ll take about an hour and a half.”

Shao Heng nodded, eyes still on the skiff. “Then I’ll be taking Senior Sister Li’s ride.”

“Heh. Of course.”

They leapt up, using movement techniques to land lightly on the deck. Compared to the large spirit boat that had once carried Shao Heng from the Earth-Kun Domain, this skiff was small and open, with no cabin to shelter them from wind.

Li Chao Ge guided it with hand seals, and the skiff shot forward, slicing into the clouds.

Shao Heng kept her gaze discreet, but she noticed Li Chao Ge’s aura was only 117 furnaces—strong for early First Realm, but not enough to drive a spirit boat for long without strain. Li Chao Ge tossed several spirit stones into a hollow at the bow, feeding the skiff like fuel.

Shao Heng looked away, pretending not to have seen.

She took out Face-Changing Art again, crossed her legs, and started reading on the deck.

Night approached. The air grew colder, wind sharp against skin—but cultivators’ eyesight remained keen even in the dark.

Once the skiff’s direction was set, Li Chao Ge didn’t need to constantly control it. She pulled out a thick book titled Alchemy Essentials and began reading too.

The edges of its pages were curled and yellowed. Notes crowded the margins, fresh ink scent still lingering.

Shao Heng finished Face-Changing Art, closed it, and tucked it away. The technique itself wasn’t extraordinary, but the book also recorded matching disguise methods. Used together, it would be difficult for anyone without divine sense to see through.

She glanced over and found Li Chao Ge reading with unmistakable focus—almost enjoyment.

So Li Chao Ge studied alchemy too.

Achieving anything in the four cultivation arts could bring enormous benefits to a cultivator. But each craft was brutally difficult. Without talent and a teacher, decades of work could still amount to nothing. The barrier to entry was high, and the cost in time and resources was worse.

Shao Heng didn’t doubt her own ability to learn. If she truly wanted something, what couldn’t she master?

But she also understood her past speed came not only from talent, but from focus.

Any of the four arts was vast enough to swallow a lifetime. Until she entered the inner sect and her footing stabilized, she had decided long ago to prioritize cultivation and combat strength.

Li Chao Ge didn’t speak, and neither did Shao Heng.

Shao Heng pulled out several texts she’d borrowed from the Wondrous Dharma Tower. Under moonlight and stars, she read while comparing passages against the heavens above, so engrossed the wind might as well have not existed.

Time slipped.

Li Chao Ge finally closed Alchemy Essentials, leaned over the side of the skiff, and checked the terrain below. They were close to Dan Yang Mountain. She formed a hand seal and slowed the Hundred Rapids Skiff, guiding it into a lower, steadier glide.

Only then did she look back at Shao Heng and smile.

“I heard you had 13 bright points when you tested your aptitude,” Li Chao Ge said. “Everyone thinks they were stars.”

Her gaze flicked to the book in Shao Heng’s hands. “And you’re reading Star-Calculus Treatise. So it’s true?”

Shao Heng set the book down. “I don’t know what my aptitude was. I just noticed that when I use techniques, they feel stronger.”

She paused, then added more honestly, “Elder Zhao Tang said the test might have shown stars. I got curious, so I borrowed this.”

Her brows knit briefly. “I want to know what it is. People say it’s stars, but I don’t feel any special connection.”

Li Chao Ge considered. “You could try divination techniques. Maybe you’ll gain something.”

“Divination?” Shao Heng stared at her hands, palms up.

She’d been born into a marquis’s household. From the day she was born, diviners had read her face and her lines, each of them declaring she was destined for unmatched fortune and a smooth life.

Back then, she’d believed it. She’d been smug, proud, drunk on the feeling of being special—of being above others.

But when she ended up on the streets, what had kept her alive wasn’t a blessed palm.

It was these hands.

The hands that had driven off thugs. The hands that had snatched scraps before others could. The hands that had learned to fight, to claw, to endure.

Shao Heng’s fingers curled into fists.

From the moment she’d balled those fists and forced the first man to back away, she’d stopped believing in diviners and fate.

“I don’t believe in that,” she said, voice low.

She lifted her fists a fraction, just enough that Li Chao Ge could see the meaning.

“I only believe in this.”