One week remained before the Inner Court trial at Xuǎn Xuān.
For some, a fleeting span.
For others, a threshold of fate.
—This was the week of cultivation for Xuán Chén and Shī Tóngbǎi.
—
Wind passed through bamboo.
Clear tones drifted.
Xuán Chén sat alone in the secluded stone chamber of the rear mountain.
This chamber, hidden for years within Àotiān Academy,
Its entrance veiled by vines,
Unseen without guidance.
Within lay the Boundary Array—
Few could enter.
With Headmaster Gǔ Líng's permission,
He chose this place.
To train in silence.
—
Now, within the chamber,
Eight floating sigils of gray-silver light
Intertwined.
Forming a stable field.
The Boundary Array glowed faintly on the floor.
Xuán Chén sat cross-legged within.
Hands sealed.
Mind condensed.
Qi veins like threads
Wove through his body.
Silver lines, flickering.
Around him, spiritual energy flowed.
Not loud,
But drawn by unseen law.
Circling him,
Like breath.
—
His body had long opened its marks.
Yet the academy's test, bound to Central Plains methods,
Could not detect the Western techniques—
The Triple Star Seal and Fivefold Qi Wheel.
This week, he no longer hid.
He began to convert the Western imprints
Into equivalent forms of the Central system.
—
Seven days passed.
Silent meditation.
Within his spirit platform,
The imprints of the Central system emerged—
Qi, Form, Guard, Meridian.
They resonated with his inner wheels.
The process drained his soul.
Shook his spirit.
But he crossed a threshold—
Understanding and fusion.
—
The four marks should have been gradual.
Yet he used Western arts to reverse the path.
Forced the connection.
Seven sleepless days.
Three times his breath nearly collapsed.
—
In silence, he traced the veins.
Memorized their cycle.
Without manifesting aura.
Thus, during the last test,
No imprint appeared.
Now, the four marks were stabilized.
Yet outwardly, still hidden.
—
Xuán Chén slowly opened his eyes.
Within them, star-charts seemed to turn.
"…The four marks are stable.
It is time to begin the fusion test of the fate-mark system.
If I follow this path alone,
I may be no different from the geniuses of the Central Plains.
But if I cultivate both veins together…
There may be a way forward."
—
He guided his breath.
Western consciousness conduits merged with the Central fate-mark method.
Gray light entwined with starlight.
At last, it sank into his dantian.
Became a single, rounded current of inner qi.
—
In recent days, few had approached the chamber.
Yet all who did spoke of its atmosphere—
Heavy as a mountain.
Oppressive even from afar.
Heavenly birds passing overhead
Veered away,
As if cowed by unseen pressure.
—
Seven days, the Boundary Array unmoved.
Yet on the academy's qi-chart,
It left a deep scar.
Headmaster Gǔ Líng watched in silence.
His voice low—
"This one… is no ordinary man."
—
Thus, seven days of stillness.
No one saw him move.
Yet he left traces like legend.
From then, whispers of Xuán Chén spread quietly through the academy.
—
Few knew—
On the night of storm and Sword Hall upheaval,
In another quiet hall,
One man sat alone.
Wind did not enter.
Lamp did not fade.
That man was Xuán Chén.
—
He did not appear.
Did not act.
Not from ignorance.
Not from indifference.
But because he was undergoing
A fusion and remolding
Between power and fate-marks.
Had he forced himself to act,
It would have brought chaos.
Two veins colliding.
Qi collapsing.
—
That night, he whispered—
"The wind… is in turmoil."
Not apathy.
But helplessness.
—
In stillness, he opened his eyes.
Spoke softly—
"…If I cannot share his burden,
Then at least I must guard the trust he placed behind me.
If I cannot even keep that…
What right have I to walk beside him?"
—
Outside, faint commotion stirred.
Students whispered.
Words unclear—
Yet fragments reached him:
"Inner Court trial,"
"Xiǎo Chén,"
"Night assault."
—
He rose.
Gathered breath and spirit.
With a sweep of his sleeve,
The ground's sigils vanished.
Turning, his gaze deepened.
He stepped forth.
His figure leapt like smoke,
Into bamboo touched by lingering daylight.
—
These days, his heart had never truly stilled.
What moved him most—
The faint trace of Xīnghén qi within Xiǎo Chén.
"If Xīnghén Sect was as Gǔ Líng said…
Then he is not merely a child of fate.
He may be the fire rekindled from ashes."
—
Xuán Chén opened his eyes.
His fingers stirred.
The hourglass dissolved into nothing.
—
Moments later,
Shī Tóngbǎi slipped near.
Peering, curious.
"Hm? Isn't this where Senior Brother Xuán Chén trained?
Could there be treasures or arrays inside?
I'll just take a look.
I won't touch anything."
—
He pushed the stone door.
Entered.
Stillness remained.
Air carried faint traces of qi.
His thought moved.
On the floor where Xuán Chén had sat,
He saw blurred sigils.
—
"This is… the Boundary Array?"
His eyes lit.
He sat cross-legged within.
Imitated Xuán Chén's posture.
Tried to circulate qi.
—
Seated in the array,
He began to breathe.
To his surprise—
His meditation deepened swiftly.
Almost at once,
He sank into silence.
—
In that depth,
He saw countless blue-white spheres.
Floating around him.
Like spirits of the spiritual realm.
Gentle.
Silent.
—
Just as joy rose,
The spheres flickered.
Vanished.
His mind wavered.
He startled awake.
Eyes opened.
Around him—
Empty.
Only quiet wind
Circling the array.
—
"It must be that I grew too excited,
My mind faltered,
And the breath was cut off…"
He whispered to himself.
Steadying his spirit,
He closed his eyes again.
—
The second time,
He was calmer.
Gradually, the spheres of qi returned.
He did not rush.
He murmured inwardly—
"Peace… peace. Do not hurry."
—
"Heh… these blue-white spheres,
It feels as if they are helping me train…"
He gently guided his qi.
The spheres, as if alive,
Circled around him.
Especially near his dantian and spirit sea,
Resonance began to stir.
—
He played as he trained.
Trained as he laughed.
Unknowingly, more spheres gathered.
Drawn ceaselessly.
He did not know—
This was the sign of the Spirit Eye opening.
Through the Boundary Array,
He was drawing purest qi of heaven and earth.
—
As the spheres converged,
He felt loosening deep within his spirit sea.
This time, cautious,
He calmed his mind.
He shifted to the heart method
Of the Flying Butterfly Sword Art.
—
Every strike of the sword
Required qi's support.
He let the sword's forms
Circle within his body.
Qi flowed like streams,
Washing barriers.
—
At the brink of breakthrough,
He summoned the strongest strike.
Sword intent coursed through his veins.
A muffled sound—
His spirit sea erupted.
Like a spring bursting into rivers.
Qi surged without end.
—
He opened his eyes.
Hands trembling.
Shocked—
"I… I broke through!
I truly… stepped into the entry of meridian marks!"
—
In that instant,
Countless memories flashed.
Since entering Àotiān Academy,
Born with seven seals,
Yet mocked as useless,
Ordered about,
Despised.
All weakness, humiliation, resentment—
Vanished in this moment.
At last,
He could stand proudly
Before the Inner Court.
To contend with all.
—
He thought of his father, Shī Wànqīng—
A man once proud of him,
Yet forced to sigh in helplessness.
—
At five years old,
His father summoned a famed physician.
The doctor said—
"Master Shī,
Though your son was born with seven seals,
A dragon among men,
His spirit veins are blocked.
His altar and dantian obstructed.
I fear… cultivation will be impossible in this life."
—
Shī Wànqīng was struck as if by thunder.
He asked urgently—
"Is there any chance of reversal?"
—
The physician replied—
"Only if two can be found.
One bearing pure yang,
One cultivating gentle yin.
Their minds in harmony.
One breaking, one guarding.
Then the veins may be opened,
Blood revived,
And fate reversed…"
—
From that day,
Shī Tóngbǎi never returned home.
He dared not speak of his father's hope.
At times, he wished to abandon all.
To drift through the academy,
And leave quietly.
—
Now, through the chance of the Spirit Eye,
He shattered destiny.
At last, he stepped forward.
—
"Hahaha!
Father, I can do it!
I am no longer worthless!
Wait and see—
This trial,
I too shall stand upon that stage!"
—
He rose.
Arms lifted high.
Laughter rang to the sky.
—
Outside the chamber,
The wind stirred faintly.
—
On the mountain peak,
Xuán Chén watched the eastern light.
His eyes narrowed.
He murmured—
"This boy…
He has given me a surprise.
Indeed, fate is not fixed.
So-called 'waste'—
If he can awaken the Spirit Eye,
Break old law,
Then he too may walk beside us."