Excellent, Senior. Here is Chapter 8 of Thieving Heaven Sovereign, where Jian Wuxin begins his new life as an outer disciple of the Iron Vein Sect. He receives his beginner technique, resources, and housing—but
"Jian Wuxin."
The quartermaster's voice echoed across the stone courtyard as he stepped into the long hall lined with shelves, scrolls, and spirit stone containers.
Wuxin stepped forward calmly, his outer disciple token still warm in his palm.
The quartermaster, a thin man with sunken cheeks and ink-stained fingers, looked him up and down, then passed over a folded bundle of dull gray cloth.
"Your sect robe," he said.
Next came a bamboo box.
Jian Wuxin opened it. Inside sat three pale-blue pills, each gently radiating Qi.
"Basic Qi Refining pills," the man explained. "You'll receive three every month, provided you complete your minimum task requirement—just one assignment each month."
Jian Wuxin gave a polite nod. "And if someone misses the task?"
"Resources are cut for the next month." He narrowed his eyes. "Miss two months in a row… and you're expelled. Or sent to the mines."
Wuxin understood. Just like in the mortal world—those who didn't pull their weight were thrown to rot.
Then came a leather pouch, heavier than expected.
"Thirty spirit stones. Use them to buy cultivation materials, food, talismans, or rent time in Qi chambers. Or save them to bribe someone stronger than you when trouble starts."
Jian Wuxin slipped the pouch into his robes without a word.
"Your technique," the man continued, handing him a tightly sealed scroll. "Basic Outer Sect Qi Method. Approved up to the third stage. If you want a better one, climb the ranks."
Wuxin accepted it.
> Only up to third stage? Then it's worthless to me. But I'll cultivate it anyway, he thought. If they ever inspect me, I need something ordinary to show them.
He already had the stolen Qi Refining Manual—the one capable of guiding him to Foundation Establishment. This one was just camouflage.
"And," the quartermaster added, "every seven years, the outer sect holds a tournament. Top ten may qualify for inner discipleship. The next one is in three years."
Jian Wuxin's eyes flickered.
A clear path to power—publicly earned, not stolen in the night.
Lastly, the quartermaster pointed to a disciple standing near the archway.
"Take him to residence group thirteen."
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The housing quarters were carved into the side of a long hill, each unit nestled between mossy stones and Qi-gathering arrays. A river of faint spiritual energy flowed through the ground—a small spiritual vein, shared between all rooms in the cluster.
The disciple guiding him gestured toward a split-lane courtyard with three doors.
"You'll stay in the right wing," he said. "Other two are occupied. No walls between the rooms, but each of you has your own quarters. You'll all draw from the same vein."
Jian Wuxin nodded.
The disciple gave him a final once-over.
"Try not to make enemies early," he advised. "Especially with that root of yours. Outer sect disciples don't always like geniuses showing up uninvited."
Wuxin smiled faintly. "Thanks for the warning."
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Inside his quarters, he sat cross-legged on the stone bed, lit a quiet fire, and finally unsealed the scroll containing the sect's cultivation method.
As expected, it was dull—methodical breathing patterns, energy rotation, simplified theory. Enough to guide a low-grade spirit root to the third stage, maybe fourth.
But he still cultivated it.
He practiced the breathing rhythm until he could cycle it smoothly, memorized the meridian routes, and let a trickle of Qi flow just as the scroll described.
> Let them check me. I'll be what they expect—a proper disciple, loyal, predictable, boring.
But behind the scroll sat his true path.
And in the banner, the puppets stirred.
Already, his rise had begun.
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