The days that followed moved with the rhythm of breath and wind.
Cloudspire Sect rested upon three tiers of floating terraces — each one connected by stairways of white stone that glimmered faintly under moonlight. The air there was light, fragrant with pine and mist. Disciples rose before dawn, their chants echoing through the mountains like threads of morning prayer.
Lin Feng adapted easily.He kept to himself, listening more than speaking. Yet his calmness — that quiet steadiness — drew notice even among the restless novices.
On his third morning, he stood with the others around the Spirit Spring — a shallow pool whose waters shimmered with faint azure light. Each new disciple was to draw in spiritual essence through breathing exercises guided by the elders.
The others struggled; some coughed blood, others lost focus. But when Lin Feng began, the air around him grew unnaturally still.
Ripples formed upon the water's surface — moving toward him.
The elder overseeing the lesson frowned, muttering under his breath,
"Again… the world bends toward this boy."
Lin Feng opened his eyes, startled.
"Did I do something wrong?"
The elder only shook his head. "No. The heavens did."
A few of the watching disciples exchanged curious glances, but one lingered — a girl standing near the back, her expression caught between awe and worry.
Her name was Mei Yun, a second-generation disciple known for her gentle temperament and quick understanding of formations. She wasn't strong, but she was precise, and she noticed what others missed.
That evening, as Lin Feng sat alone beneath the lanterns outside the dormitory, she approached quietly.
"You draw qi differently," she said.
Lin Feng turned. "Is that a problem?"
She shook her head, sitting beside him. "It's… rare. Most of us follow the flow around us, but you seem to pull it in as if it recognizes you."
Her eyes met his. "It's as if the air already knows your name."
He smiled faintly, unsure how to respond. "Then perhaps I owe it a greeting."
Mei Yun laughed — soft, genuine. It was the first laughter he had heard since arriving here, and for reasons he couldn't name, it eased something in him.
They spoke little after that, but as she left, Lin Feng found himself glancing toward the parchment wrapped within his robes. It pulsed faintly once, like approval.
Above the Clouds
In the lower heavens, Arannis stood upon the balcony of the Mortal Observation Bureau — her new domain. The air was colder here, the stars dimmer, but through the great scrying mirrors she could watch fragments of mortal life drift like petals across water.
She saw Lin Feng that night, sitting beside the plum tree, his hand brushing faint blue light across the parchment's edge.
Her heart stirred.
"He's learning faster than the heavens intended…"
From behind her, a voice spoke — a cold, formal tone belonging to another watcher.
"You've taken an interest in one mortal. Dangerous habit."
She didn't look away. "Perhaps Heaven should take interest too."
The watcher's footsteps retreated into the mist, leaving her alone beneath the stars.
Arannis traced a fingertip along the mirror's surface.In its reflection, Lin Feng lifted his gaze — as if he'd felt her watching.
Their eyes met across an impossible distance.
------------------------
Morning mist rolled across Cloudspire's terraces like drifting silk.From afar, the sect looked serene — bells chiming, disciples in white and gray robes moving between pavilions. But beneath the calm surface, murmurs had begun.
It started after the third training session.Each time Lin Feng cultivated, the surrounding essence of the mountain would tilt — streams of energy bending toward him, as if the world itself remembered him.
By the fourth session, it wasn't just the air.The spirit stones embedded in the formation hall began to dim whenever he meditated.
Elder Huan, who oversaw the training ground, stared at the readings on his jade talisman and muttered,
"This is not ordinary resonance… it's a siphon."
That evening, Lin Feng remained unaware of the whispers spreading through the sect. He sat by the plum tree again, his breath steady, his mind quiet. The parchment lay before him, faint lines of script glimmering across its surface like starlight trapped in ink.
Every night, more words appeared — words he couldn't read but somehow understood.Not knowledge.Memory.
A fragment whispered in his thoughts:
"When Heaven severed the earth's song, even gods forgot how to listen."
He opened his eyes slowly. "The heavens… severed it?"
His voice was almost lost to the wind — except to Mei Yun, who stood behind the tree trunk, pretending to collect fallen petals.
"You speak to that thing often," she said quietly.
He didn't startle. Instead, he looked up, smiling faintly. "You watch often."
A faint flush rose to her cheeks. "You attract trouble often."
Her teasing tone faded as she caught sight of the glowing symbols. They pulsed like heartbeats, alive and ancient. Something deep inside her trembled — not fear, but reverence.
"That parchment… it's not mortal, is it?"
Lin Feng folded it away. "I don't know what it is. Only that it's waiting for me to remember."
She hesitated, then whispered, "Then be careful who hears you say that. Even the kindest elders bow to Heaven's rules."
He looked up at the drifting clouds, eyes distant. "And what if Heaven's rules are wrong?"
Mei Yun stared at him — that quiet conviction, so simple yet so defiant, lodged in her chest like a spark she couldn't extinguish.
The Heavenly Court
High above the mortal realm, the Hall of Echoing Jade shone like a palace carved from moonlight. Celestial officials knelt as the report from the Mortal Envoys was read aloud.
"Subject: Lin Feng. Mortal cultivation unstable. Parchment artifact resonance confirmed."
The Heavenly Judge's voice echoed coldly through the chamber. "Resonance? Explain."
A junior envoy stepped forward, trembling. "The artifact responds to him alone. When near, it draws ambient qi beyond mortal tolerance. It is as though the object… recognizes his soul."
The hall fell silent.
From the upper dais, Arannis watched — face serene, thoughts anything but.
The Judge's decree rang out:
"If the mortal ascends prematurely, the balance may fracture. Observe closely. Should resonance deepen, erase him."
A faint flicker crossed Arannis's gaze. She bowed like the others — but her hands trembled as she hid them within her sleeves.
Later, when the hall emptied, she stood before the great mural that recorded Heaven's wars. Beneath layers of gold and jade, she traced a forgotten carving — half-effaced, showing mortals and gods standing side by side.
"The Forgotten Era…" she whispered. "The parchment carries its breath."
She turned, voice barely a whisper to the empty hall.
"If Heaven truly fears him… perhaps Heaven once feared truth."
Her reflection wavered in the polished floor — two versions of herself gazing back: the loyal envoy, and the woman who had begun to question the skies.
And somewhere below, in a world of rain and petals, Lin Feng raised his head — feeling, faintly, that someone above the clouds had just chosen to defy the heavens for him.