Gu Xuan fell to his knees, gasping as if he had just surfaced from a deep ocean.
His mind was a chaotic sea of golden characters, each one pulsing with a profound truth that threatened to shatter his understanding of the world.
His muscles ached, and a thin trickle of blood ran from his nose, a testament to the sheer mental force of the scripture's impartation.
He pressed his forehead to the cool earth, forcing himself to regulate his breathing, to cage the tempest in his mind.
The Primal Chaos Union Scripture.
It was not a sword art. It was not a Qi circulation method in any way the Unyielding Sword Sect would recognize.
Their path was one of domination—conquering the self, conquering the opponent, conquering the heavens with the unyielding edge of the sword.
It was a philosophy of harshness, solitude, and sharpness. A Yang path, through and through.
This scripture was its antithesis.
It spoke not of conquest, but of harmony. Not of solitude, but of union.
It was a path that required two halves to become whole.
A practitioner could not cultivate this art alone. It required a partner of the opposite polarity, a union of Yin and Yang, of flesh and spirit, to circulate Qi and comprehend the Dao.
Fear, cold and sharp, pierced through the awe. This was heresy of the highest order.
If any elder of the sect were to discover even a single verse of this scripture in his mind, he would be executed, his soul scattered to the winds.
But beneath the fear, a primal ambition ignited within him. The scripture promised power beyond his wildest dreams.
It described how a perfect union could not only accelerate cultivation at a terrifying rate but could also purify spiritual roots, heal shattered meridians, and break through impossible bottlenecks.
For a schemer like Gu Xuan, a serpent hiding in the reeds, this was the ultimate weapon. A power that no one would ever see coming.
There was only one problem. The most glaring, insurmountable problem.
He was alone.
With deliberate care, Gu Xuan re-sealed the hidden compartment, leaving no trace of his discovery.
He clutched the cool, unassuming jade slip in his sleeve and slipped back towards the Outer Sect dormitories, his mind racing.
He needed a partner. But who?
The thought was almost laughable. Trust was a commodity more precious than spirit stones in the sect, and he had none to spare.
He mentally scanned the faces of the Outer Sect disciples.
The arrogant ones? They would try to steal the technique for themselves.
The foolish ones? They would expose him by accident.
The well-connected ones? Their families would dissect him for his secrets.
He needed someone with no other options. Someone as isolated and desperate as he was.
He needed a fellow outcast.
As he neared the dilapidated courtyard that housed the low-ranking male disciples, he slowed his pace, melting back into the shadows as a pair of disciples walked past, their conversation drifting on the night air.
"Did you see Su Linyue at the training grounds today?" one asked, his voice a mixture of pity and something crueler. "She was just standing there, watching. It's been a whole year."
"What's to see?" the other scoffed. "A fallen phoenix is just a chicken. She was the pride of our intake, supposedly a once-in-a-generation talent. One failed breakthrough and it all turned to smoke. Serves her right for being so arrogant."
The first disciple sighed. "Still, it's a waste. They say the Frigid Yin Qi from the deviation not only shattered her Foundation Establishment attempt but is now slowly eroding her meridians"
"The sect's physicians can't do anything. In a few more years, she won't even be able to hold a sword."
The words struck Gu Xuan like a bolt of lightning.
Frigid Yin Qi.
He stopped dead in his tracks, the disciples' chatter fading into a distant buzz.
The scripture had a whole chapter, The Winter Plumb Blossom's Thaw, dedicated to special Yin constitutions.
It detailed how to harmonize with chaotic, destructive Yin energies, like those born from cultivation deviations.
It described such a condition not as a curse, but as a source of incredibly pure, potent Yin essence, if one had the Yang to match and the method to refine it.
For a practitioner of the Primal Chaos Union Scripture, a partner with rampant Frigid Yin Qi wasn't a cripple.
She was a treasure. A walking, breathing celestial pill.
Su Linyue. He remembered her. A girl with eyes as sharp as black ice and a talent that had burned so brightly it had cast a shadow over everyone else.
Now, she was a ghost, haunted by her past glory, isolated by the sect that had once praised her.
She was perfect.
She was proud, so she wouldn't talk. She was desperate, so she might listen. She was isolated, so no one would notice if he approached her.
And most importantly, he held the only key to the lock of her cage. He could offer her something no one else in the world could: a second chance.
A slow, calculating smile touched Gu Xuan's lips for the first time that night.
The terror from his discovery had vanished, replaced by the thrill of the hunt.
The scripture was the map, and he had just found his X.
The crippled phoenix of the Outer Sect had no idea that a serpent was now coiled at the base of her withered tree, ready to offer her a chance to soar once more.