Lin Feng spent the first full day immersed in Regional Council documentation, learning the formal structures that would govern the hearing. The Council consisted of representatives from major and mid-tier sects across the eastern territories, rotating membership every five years to prevent any single faction from dominating. Current composition included twelve voting members, with decisions requiring two-thirds majority for formal rulings.
The procedural framework was complex—multiple phases of presentation, questioning, and deliberation. First, the complainant presented their case. Then the respondent offered defense. Council members could question both parties, introduce external testimony, or request additional evidence. Finally came closed deliberation followed by formal ruling.
Lin Feng mapped out Council member profiles with meticulous attention. Three were likely sympathetic—they represented sects with progressive approaches to cultivation philosophy and had history of supporting unconventional methods. Four were neutral, decision dependent on arguments presented. Five were potentially hostile, either conservative about sect founding protocols or aligned with factions that would benefit from Hollow Peak's weakening.
"Two-thirds majority means we need eight votes," he muttered, making calculations. "Three likely supporters, four swing votes, five likely opponents. We need to secure all four swing votes plus at least one hostile conversion."
Qingxue entered his study chamber carrying tea and additional documentation. "Grand Elder Bingxin agreed to testify. She's preparing formal written assessment of your character and cultivation stability, plus she'll attend the hearing to answer questions directly."
"That's significant," Lin Feng said, genuine relief cutting through his focused intensity. "Her credibility is unimpeachable."
"I also contacted Patriarch Cloud Heaven about historical precedents," Qingxue continued, settling beside him. "He found three cases where unfounded sects received provisional authority during establishment periods. Two succeeded and transitioned to full recognition. One failed due to internal collapse, not Council ruling."
"So there's precedent for what we're doing, even if it's uncommon." Lin Feng added that to his growing argument structure. "That addresses the procedural objection directly."
"The personal credibility challenge is harder," Qingxue said, her expression more concerned. "We can document your achievements, provide character testimony, demonstrate technical capability. But the fundamental question they're raising—whether advancement this rapid indicates instability—doesn't have objective answer. It's judgment call."
"Then I need to make the case that rapid advancement through perfect meridians and void cultivation inheritance is different from rapid advancement through reckless risk-taking or unstable methods," Lin Feng said, thinking through the argument framework. "One is leveraging exceptional circumstance with appropriate caution. The other is gambling with cultivation foundation for short-term gains."
"How do you prove the difference?"
"I show them the preparation that preceded every major advancement," Lin Feng said, his tactical mind finding solid ground. "Tournament victories came after intensive training. Breakthrough to Divine Domain Level Eight succeeded because I spent fifty days preparing with Grand Elder Bingxin's guidance and survived twelve hours of consolidation through methodical crisis response. Pocket dimension infiltration worked because I planned meticulously and coordinated with Azure Sky intelligence. Every success has documentation showing systematic preparation, not reckless chance-taking."
Qingxue's expression shifted toward approval. "That's compelling framing. You're not denying the rapid advancement—you're contextualizing it as prepared excellence rather than unstable desperation."
"I also need to address the servant origin directly rather than letting it remain unspoken concern," Lin Feng continued, momentum building as the argument structure clarified. "Some Council members will view starting as powerless servant as indicating questionable background or character. I frame it as demonstrating persistence despite circumstances—fourteen years working invisibly without recognition, maintaining hope of cultivation advancement even when it seemed impossible."
"That could resonate with some Council members," Qingxue agreed. "Cultivation community nominally values persistence and determination. Forcing them to acknowledge those qualities in your background makes dismissal harder."
Lin Feng continued working through argument layers, identifying potential counterpoints and preparing responses. The work was intellectually demanding but oddly satisfying—this was tactical planning applied to rhetoric and presentation rather than combat, but the fundamental skill set was similar.
On the third day, Scholar Feng arrived with updated translation materials and immediately noticed Lin Feng's divided attention.
"I can return another time if this is inconvenient," the scholar said, his social awkwardness evident.
"No, stay," Lin Feng said, recognizing an opportunity. "Actually, I'd value your perspective on something. You're familiar with Regional Council procedures from Golden Lotus's scholarly work?"
"Somewhat," Scholar Feng said cautiously. "Golden Lotus has petitioned the Council several times regarding preservation regulations and ancient text authentication protocols."
"What's your assessment of Council member decision-making patterns? Do they prioritize precedent, practical considerations, philosophical consistency, political relationships?"
Scholar Feng's expression shifted toward more comfortable analytical territory. "Varies by member, but overall the Council tends toward conservative interpretations of established protocols. They value stability and predictability over innovation. When precedents exist, they're weighted heavily. When precedents are ambiguous or absent, they defer to traditional approaches unless presented with compelling reason to deviate."
"So arguing that unfounded sects shouldn't hold coordination authority—that would resonate with their conservative instincts?"
"Yes, unfortunately for your position," Scholar Feng confirmed. "The burden of proof is on you to demonstrate why deviation from normal protocols is justified, not on Iron Peak to prove why traditional approaches should be maintained."
That was tactically significant information. Lin Feng adjusted his argument structure to account for conservative decision-making bias—he couldn't just defend Hollow Peak's legitimacy, he needed to actively demonstrate why traditional protocols were inadequate for this specific situation.
"Central Valley coordination framework is unique because three sects with historical territorial disputes agreed to cooperation enforced by neutral party," he said, working through the logic aloud. "Traditional protocols assume territorial disputes resolve through either exclusive control or unstable informal arrangements. Our framework creates stable cooperation that benefits all parties. That's not deviation from protocols for convenience—it's innovation that addresses situation traditional approaches can't resolve effectively."
"That's stronger argument," Scholar Feng agreed. "You're not asking Council to ignore protocols. You're demonstrating that protocols don't address the specific circumstances, therefore adaptation is necessary rather than optional."
Qingxue had been listening quietly, and now she added her own observation. "We should also emphasize that all three Central Valley sects agreed to this framework voluntarily. Iron Peak participated in negotiations, accepted the terms, and benefited from initial cooperation. Their complaint now, after accepting benefits, looks like bad faith rather than legitimate concern about protocols."
"That's useful angle," Lin Feng said, making notes. "It shifts focus from whether the framework was proper to why Iron Peak is challenging it after agreeing to participate."
Scholar Feng hesitated, then offered additional insight with visible discomfort at involving himself in political matters. "Golden Lotus's experience with Council suggests they respond well to evidence that decisions have been thoughtful rather than impulsive. If you can document the negotiation process—how many meetings, what concerns were addressed, how agreements evolved—it demonstrates serious diplomatic effort rather than hasty arrangement."
"Xiao Ling will have complete documentation," Lin Feng said, already planning to request comprehensive negotiation records. "She tracks everything."
By the fifth day, Lin Feng had developed comprehensive argument structure addressing both procedural and personal credibility challenges. But Qingxue raised a concern during their evening review.
"Your arguments are intellectually solid," she said carefully, "but they're also very tactical. Very focused on logical framework and evidential support. That works for some Council members, but others will be evaluating emotional and intuitive dimensions—whether they trust you, whether you seem genuine, whether your presence creates confidence or concern."
"How do I prepare for subjective evaluation?" Lin Feng asked, recognizing the limitation of his analytical approach.
"You practice presenting yourself authentically rather than performing a role," Qingxue said. "Some of the most effective moments in your negotiations have been when you spoke honestly about limitations and uncertainties rather than projecting absolute confidence. That authenticity creates trust because it signals you're not hiding problems or exaggerating capabilities."
Lin Feng considered that. His instinct was always to present optimal case, emphasize strengths while minimizing weaknesses. But Qingxue was right that calculated perfection sometimes created distance rather than connection.
"So if Council members question whether my advancement was too rapid, I should acknowledge the concern has merit rather than dismissing it?"
"You should acknowledge that their concern is understandable given the unprecedented nature of your progression," Qingxue clarified. "Then you explain why rapid advancement through perfect meridians and systematic preparation is different from instability. You're not agreeing with their conclusion, but you're validating that their question is reasonable. That creates collaborative discussion rather than defensive confrontation."
"That feels vulnerable," Lin Feng admitted.
"It is vulnerable," Qingxue agreed. "But vulnerability creates authenticity, and authenticity creates trust. Council members who are genuinely uncertain about you won't be persuaded by perfect arguments—they'll be persuaded by sensing that you're someone who can be trusted with significant responsibility."
Lin Feng practiced this approach over the next day, working with Qingxue to refine how he presented himself. The shift was subtle but significant—less about defending against attack, more about inviting examination and demonstrating nothing was hidden.
On the seventh day, the four senior disciples requested meeting with Lin Feng. He'd been maintaining minimal contact to preserve preparation focus, but their unified request suggested something important.
"How's training coordination proceeding?" he asked once they'd gathered in a small conference chamber.
"Smoothly overall," Sun Wei reported. "We've maintained the integration training schedule, addressed two minor conflicts between disciples, and kept everyone informed about your situation without creating excessive anxiety."
"But there's something you need to know," Liu Mei added, her expression serious. "Some disciples have been talking about the hearing. Not in problematic ways, but there's growing concern about what happens if the ruling goes against us."
"What kind of concern?" Lin Feng asked.
"Whether they should have contingency plans," Wang Feng said. "Whether their commitment to Hollow Peak will become meaningless if we lose territorial foundation. A few are wondering if they should maintain connections with their previous sects just in case."
That created uncomfortable tension. Lin Feng understood the practical reasoning—disciples protecting themselves against potential failure. But it also indicated fragility in cohort cohesion he'd been hoping wouldn't emerge.
"What have you told them?" he asked the four senior disciples.
"That uncertainty is normal and that having concerns doesn't indicate lack of commitment," Li Chen said. "But we thought you should know the mood is more anxious than it appeared on surface."
Lin Feng sat with that information for moment, then made decision.
"Gather everyone tonight," he said. "I'll address the cohort directly before the hearing tomorrow. They deserve honest assessment of the situation rather than protective silence."
That evening, all twenty-six disciples assembled in the main training chamber. Lin Feng stood before them without elevated platform or formal staging—just sect leader speaking to founding cohort about shared challenge.
"Tomorrow I present Hollow Peak's case to the Regional Council," he began without preamble. "Some of you are concerned about what happens if the ruling goes against us. That concern is reasonable, so I'm going to address it directly rather than pretending uncertainty doesn't exist."
He had their complete attention, varied expressions of anxiety and curiosity visible across the assembled group.
"If the Council rules against the Central Valley coordination framework, Hollow Peak's territorial foundation is compromised. We'll still found the sect, but from weakened position. Some of the agreements we've established with alliance partners might be affected. Our initial operations will be more constrained than planned."
Letting that reality settle, he continued.
"If that happens, we adapt. We find alternative territorial arrangements, rebuild relationships that depend on coordination authority, and continue developing Inverse Void Dao cultivation despite reduced resources. It will be harder, but it won't be impossible."
"What if the ruling is worse than that?" one of the younger disciples asked, voice tight with worry. "What if they forbid founding entirely?"
"That's extremely unlikely," Lin Feng said. "Council authority extends to territorial disputes and formal protocols, not to preventing sect establishment. Worst realistic outcome is loss of coordination role and reduced legitimacy, not prohibition of founding."
"But that could still destroy everything we've been building," Liu Mei said, her bluntness cutting through diplomatic phrasing.
"It could diminish what we're building," Lin Feng corrected. "It won't destroy it unless we allow diminishment to become excuse for abandoning our commitment. The question isn't whether we face setbacks—every cultivation journey includes obstacles. The question is whether we persist through difficulty or abandon effort when circumstances become challenging."
He paused, meeting eyes across the chamber.
"I understand if some of you are reconsidering your commitment. Founding a new sect always involves risk, and you're all making decisions about your cultivation future based on uncertain outcomes. If you need to maintain contingency plans or reserve options with your previous affiliations, I won't hold that against you. Pragmatic caution is reasonable."
The honesty seemed to surprise some disciples—they'd apparently expected reassurance rather than acknowledgment of legitimate concern.
"But here's what I need you to understand," Lin Feng continued, his voice carrying quiet intensity. "I've spent my entire cultivation journey facing impossible situations. Advancing from powerless servant when everyone said it couldn't be done. Winning tournaments against superior opponents. Surviving breakthroughs that kill most people who attempt them. Confronting threats that should have destroyed me. Every single time, people told me the challenge was too great, the odds were impossible, I should accept limitations and stop reaching beyond my grasp."
"And every single time, I succeeded anyway. Not through luck or inherited advantage, but through systematic preparation, tactical intelligence, and absolute refusal to accept 'impossible' as final answer. Tomorrow's hearing is another impossible situation. Iron Peak has formal complaint backed by Silver Moon resources. They're challenging my legitimacy, our coordination authority, the entire foundation we've built together."
He let silence stretch for heartbeat.
"I'm going to win anyway. Not because I'm magically powerful or because I have perfect solution—but because I've spent seven days preparing systematically, understanding the decision-making framework, developing arguments that address real concerns rather than dismissing them. Because I have Qingxue's support, Grand Elder Bingxin's testimony, alliance partners' advocacy, and evidence of actual achievement rather than empty claims."
"You've all invested three months of intensive training in Hollow Peak's founding," Lin Feng concluded. "That investment has value regardless of tomorrow's outcome. You've developed capabilities, deepened understanding, built relationships that transcend any single ruling. But if you're going to continue with Hollow Peak after tomorrow, I need you to understand what you're committing to—not guaranteed success, but persistent effort toward something worth building despite obstacles and uncertainty."
The chamber held profound silence after he finished speaking.
Then Sun Wei stood. "I'm committed. Whatever the ruling is, whatever adjustments we need to make—I'm staying with Hollow Peak."
Liu Mei stood next. "I'm staying. I didn't come here for guaranteed success. I came here because Inverse Void Dao philosophy resonates with how I understand cultivation. That doesn't change based on Council rulings."
One by one, disciples stood. Some quickly, some after visible deliberation. Within minutes, all twenty-six were standing, unified declaration of commitment despite uncertainty.
Lin Feng felt emotion tighten his throat—gratitude, responsibility, determination. These people were trusting him with their cultivation futures. He would not let that trust be misplaced.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "Now get rest. Tomorrow we find out whether systematic preparation can overcome political maneuvering."
Late that night, Lin Feng performed final preparation review with Qingxue. Arguments structured, evidence organized, responses to potential questions rehearsed. He was as ready as seven days of intensive work could make him.
"You're going to be exceptional tomorrow," Qingxue said, her confidence absolute through their bond. "Not because you're performing perfectly, but because you're presenting yourself authentically while demonstrating genuine capability. That combination is more powerful than any amount of tactical maneuvering."
"I hope you're right."
"I'm always right about you," Qingxue said with slight smile. "It's one of my more annoying qualities."
Lin Feng managed to laugh despite the tension. "Thank you. For everything—the preparation support, the perspective adjustments, the emotional grounding. I couldn't do this without you."
"Yes you could," Qingxue corrected gently. "But you don't have to, because we're partners. That's the point."
They settled into rest, formations dimming to darkness. Tomorrow would bring either validation of everything they'd built or forced adaptation to compromised circumstances.
Either way, Lin Feng thought as sleep approached, he would face it with systematic preparation, tactical intelligence, and support network that had proven reliable through every previous impossible challenge.
The hearing awaited.
He was ready.