The bells rang out across the mountains like a divine decree.
Seven chimes.
The morning of ascension.
To most outer disciples, today marked the true beginning of their cultivation journey. The start of a path toward enlightenment, power, and prestige within the Ninefold Sect. The chance to one day reach the inner sanctums, to be seen, honored… even feared.
To Xian Lei, it was a farce.
A glittering lie.
He had lived the ending already—buried beneath betrayal, burned under the ruins of hope. He knew exactly what this sect offered the weak and the faithful: ashes.
But this time, he would not be prey.
He walked the same path, stood in the same robes, surrounded by the same faces—boys and girls wide-eyed with awe and terror—but his heart beat differently now. Cold. Focused. Ready.
I'm not here to climb the ladder, he thought. I'm here to break it.
The outer disciples stood in disciplined lines before the Jade Assembly Platform. The sun cast golden light over the polished stone, and banners flapped in the wind, bearing the sigils of the Ninefold Pillars: Heaven, Sword, Alchemy, Beast, Seal, Shadow, Spirit, Thunder, and Ice.
Nine core disciplines. Nine choices for cultivation paths.
And nine ways to be used and discarded.
Xian Lei's gaze swept the crowd. He recognized them all now. Ru Mei, still clutching her satchel nervously. Liu Shan, trying to keep a brave face. Zhao Hu, the loudmouthed boaster who would die in a cave raid next year.
Even Feng Zhu—already smug, already collecting sycophants—stood among them.
Xian Lei would not let them fall again. Not the innocents, at least.
The traitors?
He'd let them dig their own graves.
An elder floated onto the platform, robes shimmering with Spirit Marks. His voice echoed across the field.
"New disciples. You have passed the first gate. You stand now within the arms of the Ninefold Sect. You are Outer Disciples—dust in the wind."
The elder's smile didn't reach his eyes.
"You will be assigned dormitories, labor quotas, and training schedules. Each month, you may earn contribution points—if you survive."
Murmurs rippled.
"Three rules you must never forget," the elder said. "One: never disobey a superior disciple. Two: never question an elder. And three…"
He paused, eyes sweeping the assembly.
"…never forget your place."
Silence.
Xian Lei bowed with the rest, lips pressed into a thin line.
He remembered this man—Elder Si Feng. A coward wrapped in silk. The one who turned away when the inner sect hunted down weaker disciples for experiments. The one who laughed when Xian Lei's family burned.
One day, he would scream.
After the ceremony, disciples were split into groups and taken to their respective sectors. The outer sect sat on the lowest plateau of the mountain—hundreds of stone dwellings, practice yards, kitchens, and training halls sprawled across the terraces like a miniature city.
Xian Lei followed his assigned group—twenty disciples, led by a thin-faced inner disciple named Yu Qian.
He spoke quickly, bored.
"You get one meal a day from the kitchens. Sleep before the second bell. Meditate before dawn. Break any rule, and you'll be whipped or expelled. Probably both."
Someone asked, timidly, "What about our cultivation method?"
Yu Qian tossed him a scroll.
"Standard Qi Condensation scroll. You're not important enough for the special techniques."
Xian Lei caught his own scroll and didn't even look at it.
Garbage, he thought. They feed us scraps and hope we beg for more.
Last life, he had struggled to master this exact scroll for months before making a breakthrough. It was flawed. Inefficient. Designed to keep the outer disciples underpowered—just strong enough to do grunt work, but never a threat.
Now?
Now he had a better source.
System Notification:Bound Entity Emotion: Disdain (Low)+213 Qi Points Gained.Current Cultivation: Qi Condensation – Stage 4 → 5
Xian Lei smiled faintly.
While others flailed in ignorance, he quietly climbed.
His assigned dorm was a narrow stone room barely large enough for a bed mat and a shelf. The walls were cold. A crack ran through the ceiling.
He sat cross-legged on the mat, unrolling the scroll for show.
His real focus was inward.
The tether pulsed gently.
Yue Qianlan was nearby. Not close enough to see, but enough that her presence tingled like static along his spine.
He reached into the bond, carefully—not pushing, not probing, just listening.
Emotion Pulse: Fatigue. Irritation. Suppressed tension.
She was cultivating under pressure again. Probably forced into another performance duel for the elders.
Even in this life, they're already trying to mold her, he realized. Already pushing her past the edge.
He had seen it before.
It began like this. Overwork. Isolation. Constant elevation without support.
Then came the loss.
The betrayal.
The fall.
And the rise… into madness.
Not this time.
He couldn't warn her outright. Not yet. But he could change the atmosphere around her. Plant seeds. Disrupt the conditions that hardened her into a tyrant.
The sect turned her into a monster, he thought. I'll make sure the soil no longer rots.
The first trial came three days later.
A basic sparring evaluation—designed to rank new outer disciples and assign them to labor tiers. The strong would guard the herb gardens or work with beast tamers. The weak would clean latrines or carry water barrels up the mountain.
Xian Lei stepped into the practice arena, facing a boy nearly twice his size.
Chen Long. Muscle-bound. Brute-force cultivator. In his past life, Xian Lei had lost to him. Badly.
Now?
He waited.
The boy charged with a roar, swinging a training staff overhead.
Xian Lei sidestepped. Slid in. Elbowed the boy in the throat and swept his legs.
Chen Long hit the ground, choking.
The fight ended in less than ten seconds.
The spectators gasped.
The elder overseeing the match frowned. "Repeat the match."
Xian Lei complied.
He won again. Faster.
By the end of the day, he had risen to the top ten in his cohort.
Just enough to be noticed.
Not enough to be feared.
Perfect.
System Notification:Bound Entity Emotion: Mild Curiosity+197 Qi Points Gained.
The bond deepened. Slowly. Quietly.
Yue Qianlan had seen the roster update.
She had noticed his name.
That night, he walked alone to the moonlit meditation garden—a place he remembered from before. It was here that he had once seen her in secret, training late into the night, perfecting her Frost Lotus Form.
And sure enough… she was there again.
He hid in the shadows, breath shallow, watching her from a distance.
She moved like falling snow—sharp, delicate, beautiful, and deadly.
He could feel her emotions now, clearer than ever.
Emotion Pulse: Focused Discipline. Tranquility. Lingering doubt.
That last one struck him.
She wasn't sure of herself.
Even now, even at this stage, she doubted.
And he remembered.
She had once confided in a mentor—an alchemy elder—who later betrayed her during the Rebellion.
That was the day her trust died.
I can be that voice instead, Xian Lei thought. But not yet.
He watched as she finished the form and sheathed her blade.
She stood alone in the clearing, bathed in starlight, utterly unaware that a boy hidden in the shadows carried her future in his hands.
His fate. Her fate. The Sect's fate.
All bound together now.
Let the others chase legacy, he thought, eyes shining with quiet resolve. I will rewrite it.