Victory tasted not of triumph, but of cold, metallic tension. The uproar in the Arena of Ascension did not celebrate Li Yao; it buzzed with confused speculation and simmering outrage from the Orthodoxy Faction. He had not just defeated Hong Li; he had humiliated their symbol and exposed a philosophical crack in their foundation. The win was orthodox, but the implications were heretical.
He was escorted from the arena not by cheering disciples, but by a tense silence that felt more dangerous than any open hostility. The looks he received were no longer of pity or scorn, but of wary, calculating fear. He had become an unpredictable element, a paradox they couldn't process.
His reward for placing highly in the tournament was a substantial sum of contribution points and a single-use token to the "Ephemeral Lotus Pond," a legendary meditation site deep within the sect's restricted grounds, where a single lotus bloomed once every fifty years, its petals said to grant a moment of profound spiritual clarity.
It was a princely gift, and a transparent one. It was Elder Guo's way of both rewarding him and removing him from the spotlight for a while. A cooling-off period.
But before he could retreat, the summons came. Not from Elder Guo, but from the one person whose reaction he dreaded and anticipated the most.
Wang Zhong.
The meeting was in the same discreet tea house. The Captain of the Guard looked older, the lines on his face deeper. The success of his "investment" was clearly a double-edged sword.
"You have a talent for creating storms," Wang Zhong said, his voice a low rumble. He didn't offer tea. "My son is… stable. Your methods, however distasteful, have worked. He is a Core Formation cultivator, which is more than I feared after his accident." He paused, his gaze sharpening. "But the attention you draw is a blade pointed at my family's throat. The Orthodoxy Faction is wounded. Wounded animals are the most dangerous. They cannot strike at you directly after your very public display of orthodoxy, so they will look for leverage. They will look at those associated with you."
The threat was clear. Wang Jin was Li Yao's Achilles' heel, not because Li Yao cared for him, but because the Young Master's condition was a testament to Li Yao's forbidden knowledge. If the Orthodoxy Faction dissected Wang Jin, they would find Li Yao's spiritual signature woven through his core.
"What do you propose?" Li Yao asked, keeping his voice neutral.
"The Ephemeral Lotus Pond," Wang Zhong said. "Use it. Gain whatever clarity you can. Then, you will undertake a long-term mission. Far from the sect. The 'Silent Expanse' to the west needs surveying. It is a barren, Qi-thin wasteland, of little interest to anyone. You will be gone for a year. By the time you return, this tempest may have blown over, or found a new target."
It was an exile. A graceful, resource-funded exile, but an exile nonetheless. He was being put in a box and stored on a high shelf.
Li Yao knew he had no choice. To refuse would be to declare war on Wang Zhong, and he was in no position to fight the Captain and the Orthodoxy Faction simultaneously.
"Agreed," Li Yao said.
"Good." Wang Zhong stood. "One more thing. My son… he wishes to accompany you."
That was a surprise. "The Silent Expanse is a punishment detail. Its Qi is thin. It will slow his cultivation to a crawl."
"Precisely," Wang Zhong said, a grim satisfaction in his eyes. "It will remove him from the sect's gaze. And it will keep him under your direct supervision. Where you go, he goes. That is the condition."
The leash had been pulled taut from the other end. Wang Zhong was using the exile to further cement his son's dependency and to keep his dangerous asset contained and observed. It was a masterstroke.
"Understood," Li Yao said, his mind already calculating the implications. A year in a Qi-desert with his resentful, dependent prisoner/patient. It would be its own kind of tribulation.
The next day, he used his token to enter the Ephemeral Lotus Pond. It was a secluded grotto, hidden behind a waterfall of liquid moonlight. In the center of a perfectly still pond grew a single lotus, its petals the color of a dawn sky, radiating an aura of absolute peace.
He sat at the water's edge, the profound silence washing over him. This was not a place for cultivating energy; it was a place for cultivating understanding.
He opened his soul, letting the lotus's clarity wash through him. The events of the past months replayed in his mind—the spatial rift, the Soul-Devourer Mantis, the Blighted Grove, the duel. The constant pressure, the calculation, the cold decisions.
The lotus did not judge. It simply reflected.
And in that reflection, he saw the path ahead with stark clarity. The Soaring Cloud Sect was not his home; it was a resource node and a den of predators. His advancement here was capped. The true treasures, the secrets of the Law Path and beyond, lay outside. In ancient ruins, in forgotten realms, in the wild, untamed places of the world where heaven's laws were raw and unclaimed.
The Silent Expanse, a punishment to others, was an opportunity for him. A place with no prying eyes, no complex politics. A blank slate. A year was a long time. With the System, he could turn a Qi-desert into a personal laboratory. He could focus entirely on his soul tempering, on refining his spatial arm, on deepening his comprehension of the laws he had only begun to touch.
He had been playing a defensive game, reacting to threats. It was time to go on the offensive. Not against people, but against the limitations of his own cultivation.
He spent three days at the pond, not gaining a new power, but solidifying his resolve. When he left, his mind was clear, his purpose sharp.
He found Wang Jin packing a meager travel kit. The Young Master looked at him, his expression the now-familiar mask of resigned acceptance.
"So. The wasteland," Wang Jin said.
"The wasteland," Li Yao confirmed. "It will be a test of a different kind. Not of power, but of patience. Of foundation."
Wang Jin snorted softly. "My foundation is your creation. I am merely along for the ride, am I not?"
"For now," Li Yao said, meeting his gaze. "But a wasteland can also be a clean slate. Perhaps you will find something there that even I cannot give you."
A flicker of something—curiosity?—crossed Wang Jin's eyes before the shutters came down again.
They left at dawn, two figures departing the majestic, cloud-wreathed peaks of the Soaring Cloud Sect. One was a celebrated prodigy being quietly exiled; the other was his shackled shadow.
As they passed through the main gate, Li Yao didn't look back. He looked west, towards the barren, sun-bleached horizon of the Silent Expanse. The sect had been a furnace, tempering him in fire and conflict. The Expanse would be an anvil, where he would hammer himself into a new shape, away from watching eyes and whispering souls.
The Energy Path was not complete. The Soul Tempering Realm had just begun. But the chapter of sect life was closing. A new one was beginning—a chapter of solitude, introspection, and the relentless, personal pursuit of the Eternal Ascension. The slow burn was leaving the forge for the wilderness, where the fire could grow in silence, unseen and unbounded