Despite the honor of her new title, Li Xiyan knew peace never lingered long in the cultivation world.
The day after the Sect Assembly, she found a note pinned to her courtyard gate.
No signature. Just a single line:
_"You've stolen what wasn't yours. Come to the Valley of Echoes at dusk."
She stood silent, the wind stirring her hair.
Mu Chen found her reading it, his jaw already tightening. "You're not going."
"I have to."
"It's a trap."
"Yes. And it will be sprung whether I attend or not. Better to face it directly."
He stared at her for a moment, then exhaled.
"Then I'm coming with you."
She shook her head. "If I'm to grow into this title, I need to face what it brings. Alone."
The Valley of Echoes was a hollow carved by wind and time, lined with sheer cliffs and silver-leaved trees. It was said to carry the thoughts of cultivators long gone.
Xiyan arrived just as the sun dipped below the horizon.
Three figures emerged from the shadows.
Yue Lan, dressed in storm-gray robes.
Two others—disciples of her faction.
"So the little flower came after all," Yue Lan said.
Xiyan remained still. "I came because hiding never solves anything."
"And yet you hide behind your false humility. Your gentle face, your soft words. But I see through you."
The two other disciples stepped forward, spiritual energy crackling.
Yue Lan drew her blade. "You want to play the noble healer? Let's see how you fare when no one's left to protect you."
Xiyan took a breath.
She didn't draw a sword. She had none.
Instead, she unwrapped the silk bundle at her waist—her healer's kit.
Yue Lan laughed. "You think medicine can stop me?"
"No. But compassion might."
She knelt, hands open, revealing vials.
"Your spirit root is damaged, Yue Lan. From overusing the Tempest Sutra. You've been in pain. Afraid. You don't hate me. You hate that I see it."
Yue Lan's eyes narrowed. Her grip faltered.
"You lie."
"I don't. I can help you. Not as a rival. As someone who understands."
The wind picked up, swirling petals from the trees around them.
The other two disciples hesitated.
One stepped back.
"Senior Sister Yue… she helped my brother when no one else would. Maybe—maybe this isn't right."
Yue Lan trembled.
Her blade fell.
And she collapsed to her knees.
Tears streamed down her face, not from pain, but from the release of years held in.
Xiyan approached, knelt beside her, and placed a hand over Yue Lan's heart.
"You don't have to carry it alone."
For a long time, there was only the sound of the wind.
And then—
A whisper, ancient and vast, rolled through the valley.
Xiyan.
A voice not hers.
A presence not mortal.
She looked up.
A figure shimmered above the cliffs—light-woven, robed in stars.
The spirit of an ancient cultivator.
Its voice echoed not in the air, but in the bones.
"You have done what swords could not. You have bent hatred with healing. For this, the Valley remembers you."
Suddenly, her core pulsed. Her spiritual sea bloomed.
And just like that—she broke through.
Mid Foundation Realm.
Power pulsed around her—not violent, but vibrant. Living.
The other disciples knelt instinctively.
Even Yue Lan.
When it passed, Xiyan stood, steady.
Yue Lan looked up at her.
"Why would you help someone who tried to hurt you?"
Xiyan offered a soft smile.
"Because pain never healed pain."
She returned to her courtyard under a rising moon.
Mu Chen was waiting, arms crossed. Xiǎo Bai sat curled on his shoulder.
"You're injured?" he asked.
She shook her head. "No. Just… a little tired."
He studied her, then nodded.
"I heard something stirred in the valley. An ancient guardian."
"It did more than stir," she whispered. "It saw."
And for the first time since arriving at Clear Wind Pavilion, Xiyan felt something greater than fear or hope.
She felt belonging.
_____
Interlude: The Seeds She Planted
Wind whispered through the bamboo groves that bordered Clear Wind Pavilion, carrying petals and secrets alike.
In a quiet courtyard beneath a willow tree, Yue Lan sat alone, her sword laid to rest beside her. It no longer hummed with the same thirst for combat. Instead, it seemed… subdued. Like its master.
She ran her fingers over the hilt, the calluses on her hands reminders of endless drills and battles fought not just with others, but within herself.
Xiyan's words lingered.
You don't have to carry it alone.
Yue Lan stared at her palm where Xiyan had laid her hand. The warmth hadn't faded. Not really.
She thought helping someone made you weak.
But that girl—no, that woman—stood unarmed against blades, and turned them aside with nothing but compassion. No technique. No threat.
It terrified Yue Lan.
It humbled her more.
At the northern edge of the Pavilion, Mu Chen sat on a rooftop, knees pulled up, Xiǎo Bai curled beside him. He stared at the moon as though it held answers he couldn't find in his sword.
He had followed Xiyan out of duty.
But now?
Now he found himself wondering what he would do if she asked him to leave everything behind.
She had this maddening way of turning the world upside down.
She forgave where others sought revenge.
She healed where others struck.
And it was working.
Not just on others.
On him.
Xiǎo Bai let out a soft mewl, sensing his restlessness.
He reached over, scratching behind the fox spirit's ear. "She'll be the ruin of me," he murmured.
But he smiled.
Deep within the Pavilion's Inner Sanctum, Elders from several sects gathered before the jade scrying mirror.
Mist swirled above its surface, showing the moment the ancient spirit appeared in the Valley of Echoes.
Elder Jin tapped his staff thoughtfully. "This Li Xiyan… she's no ordinary disciple."
Elder Mei, ever stern, narrowed her eyes. "A healer who walks without a blade. Dangerous in her own way."
"And wise," added Elder Qian. "She's uniting our disciples in a way none of us could. Not with rules or rank. But with grace."
They all turned as one when the Grandmaster finally spoke.
His eyes were closed, his aura vast.
"Let her grow. Protect her if needed. But do not interfere. The heavens are watching this one."
Far beyond the Pavilion, in a shadowed glade, a man in dark robes watched the stars flicker over the Valley.
His eyes shimmered gold.
"So, she's begun."
He rolled a crystal in his fingers—one pulsing faintly with Xiyan's spiritual signature.
A crow cawed on a branch above him.
"Let her gather all their hearts. In the end, it will only make it sweeter when I break them."
He smiled.
But even his darkness could not snuff out the warmth now blooming across Clear Wind Pavilion.
End of Interlude