Chapter 5

Chapter 5: Something Strange in the Qi Sea

Shao Heng finally let it out. The bitterness that had been jammed in her chest for years spilled free in a single breath, and the release was so sharp it left her almost lightheaded.

Not enough.

Lu Yuan fell silent, his face tightening into something complicated and unrecognizable, as if that one phrase had yanked the past out of its hiding place and dropped it between them.

When Shao Heng was still in swaddling clothes, she could already copy characters with a brush. A female tutor had shown her once, just once, and the child had repeated it as though she’d been born knowing. As the years passed, the gift only sharpened—she never forgot anything she saw.

Back then, when the little Shao Heng decided her tutor couldn’t teach her anything else, she had climbed into Lu Yuan’s arms, hooked her hands around his neck, and begged to sit in on the lessons he’d hired a great scholar to give Lu Shao Jia.

He had laughed as if it were adorable nonsense. “My Heng Er, why waste your mind on those tiring things?”

Later, when she noticed her brothers each had two shadow guards at their backs, she’d demanded the same—fairness, protection, proof that she mattered.

Lu Yuan had smiled and patted her head. “Heng Er, don’t worry. Your father and mother, and your brothers too, will protect you well. Shadow guards are useless to you. I’ll have your mother add a few more maids to attend you.”

Words wrapped in softness. A cage built out of love.

Now, faced with the grown Shao Heng and her calm, merciless Not enough, Lu Yuan had nothing to say.

Jiang Yun Jiang’s body trembled. She lifted a hand and pointed at Shao Heng, her voice shaking so hard she couldn’t form a full sentence. “You… you…”

Lu Shao Jing finally tore free of Jiang Yun Jiang’s grip like a dog snapping its leash. Rage flooded his face as he charged, fist already swinging.

“You’re the greedy one!” he shouted, curses spilling out with his breath. “Sneaky, vicious—everything that happened is your own fault, Lu Shao Heng!”

His eyes were red as he spat the words that hurt more than the punch he meant to land. “I don’t have a sister like you!”

Shao Heng didn’t flinch.

It was true she hadn’t trained hard these past few years. Her foundation in martial arts wasn’t as solid as it could have been. But talent still mattered, and she’d always had too much of it—too much memory, too much understanding, too much instinct.

She knew his patterns the way she knew her own pulse.

Lu Shao Jing’s fist cut through the air.

Shao Heng stepped aside first. Her body turned with the strike, avoiding it by a hair, and her leg snapped out in a whip-like arc. Her foot hit hard and clean, sweeping into his weak point with the kind of precision that didn’t need brute strength.

Lu Shao Jing went down with a choked grunt. The impact rattled the deck beneath them.

A cold voice cut through the moment.

“Enough.”

The four sect disciples who had overseen the test were still nearby, not yet returned to the spirit ship. Yan Ci stood among them, expression flat, gaze sharp as a blade.

“No more fighting,” Senior Sister Yan Ci said. “Anyone who breaks this rule again will lose their chance to enter the sect.”

As she spoke, her right hand lowered.

An invisible pressure slammed down on Shao Heng’s shoulders. It was as if a mountain had been dropped onto her spine. Her knees threatened to buckle.

And then—something rippled beneath her navel.

A pulse rose from her lower abdomen and spread outward like a quiet wave. The crushing weight vanished as if it had never existed.

Shao Heng’s breath caught.

She had read countless medical texts in the marquis’s libraries. She knew every acupoint and meridian by name, could trace the pathways blindfolded. The ripple had come from the space below her navel—Daoist writings called it the qi sea.

In Bao Pu Zi: Di Zhen, it was written: “The lower dantian is the Guanyuan point on the Ren meridian. Three cun below the navel lies the place where essence is stored.”

Shao Heng kept her face carefully arranged. She let her expression twist into pain and forced her voice to sound strained, as though she were still being pressed down.

“I will follow Senior Sister’s guidance,” she said, as if she had to drag the words out.

Only when she saw Lu Shao Jing grudgingly swallow his fury—only when his face eased the tiniest bit—did Shao Heng finally allow herself to breathe.

She had said what she came to say. The shackle had snapped.

She didn’t look at the Marquis of Pacifying the South’s household again. Without a backward glance, she walked to the meditation cushion that had originally been reserved for Marquis Liu, sat down, and closed her eyes.

A moment later, a beam of soft white spiritual light fell over her.

It was gentle, carrying no malice. The glow washed across her ragged clothing, and the grime dissolved like dust in water. Even her oily hair turned clean, spilling loose down her back in dark, glossy strands.

Shao Heng turned her head.

Yan Ci stood there, still as stone.

“This is the most basic Dust-Cleansing Technique,” Senior Sister Yan Ci said. “Once you enter the sect, you’ll learn it.”

Shao Heng dipped her chin. “Thank you, Senior Sister.”

Half a shichen passed—neither long nor short.

Unlike Shao Heng, who had drawn a clear line and cut ties cleanly, the others clung to the edges of their old lives. They rushed to family and friends, voices breaking as they exchanged promises and sobbing farewells.

Then a dull boom rolled through the heavens.

The clouds parted.

The spirit ship revealed its true form—a massive long vessel, black and green as deep forest shadows, its surface carved with mysterious patterns that seemed to shift when you stared too long. Great sails were already raised, stirring wind that wasn’t there.

The four sect disciples formed hand seals and cast their arts. Nine beams of light caught the nine new recruits and lifted them into the air, carrying them upward in a clean, relentless arc.

“My child!”

“Ni’er!”

The cries rose from below like hooks, desperate and useless.

Shao Heng’s feet hit the deck. Weightlessness lingered in her bones, strange and unpleasant, but she steadied herself and gripped the railing.

A translucent film of light wrapped the hull, blocking the violent airflow. Even so, clouds tore past in streaks, and the speed made her stomach turn.

[So this is something from the cultivation world.]

She turned—and finally saw the ones truly in charge.

Three elders stood at the bow, solemn and imposing. Their presence pressed down on the air itself. The leading old woman held a vermilion staff carved with phoenixes; the detail was so fine it looked like living feathers.

She struck the staff once against the deck.

The sound was not loud, yet everyone’s attention snapped to her like a string pulled tight.

“This elder is from the True One Yuan Sect,” the old woman said. “An outer sect elder. My name is Zhao Tang. You may call me Elder Zhao.”

Her silver hair was combed to perfection. Her face was aged, but her pupils were clear, black and white, with not a hint of cloudiness. She stood in severe dignity, and not a single person dared breathe too loudly.

“It will take two more days to return to the sect. You nine may each choose a cabin on the Cloud-Piercing Vessel as your place to rest.”

She paused, gaze sweeping over them.

“Now that your aptitudes have been tested, I will explain the sect’s rules.”

“Any new disciple with Lower Grade aptitude must enter the outer sect first. Those with Mid Grade or High-Grade aptitude may enter the inner sect directly. The resources you can claim each month will be very different.”

At that, even Shao Heng couldn’t help glancing at Jiang Yun Jiang.

From the test results, Jiang Yun Jiang was the only one who qualified to enter the inner sect immediately.

Elder Zhao continued, voice steady. “The True One Yuan Sect accepts disciples every September. Newly accepted outer sect disciples must take three months of lessons under a teaching elder. You will be granted a Lower Grade manual: Origin-Nourishing Qi-Raising Art.”

“After another nine months—once you’ve been in the sect for a full year—you will participate in the outer sect grand competition.”

“The top ten may enter the inner sect to cultivate. Those with outstanding performance may even be accepted as disciples by an inner sect elder.”

Hope flared across Lu Shao Jia’s face and the others’. Their eyes brightened as they stared into imagined futures.

Jiang Yun Jiang’s expression barely shifted. Calm through honor and shame, she only wore that faint, composed smile.

Elder Zhao lifted her staff again. With a casual wave, nine beams of spiritual light scattered and fell into the hands of the nine recruits.

Shao Heng looked down.

A rectangular jade slip lay against her palm, warm and finely textured.

“This is a spirit tablet used to store information,” Elder Zhao said. “Press it to your forehead to read what is inside.”

“It contains basic knowledge of the cultivation world, and the key points for sensing spiritual qi.”

Her eyes sharpened. “Remember: you have not truly cultivated yet. Your spiritual sense is weak. Read it slowly. If you rush, the backlash may injure you.”

Shao Heng had already pressed the jade slip to her forehead.

Information poured into her mind in a cold, clear rush. She skimmed it—more than a hundred thousand words—and felt no discomfort at all.

Elder Zhao’s voice carried on, unhurried. “We are near the edge of the Mortal Realm. Heaven and earth qi is growing richer. The higher your aptitude, the stronger your ability to sense it. Over these two days, practice according to the tablet’s key points so that when we reach the sect, you can enter the Qi Induction Realm as soon as possible.”