The Inner Sect was a different world.
The Qi was different. In the Outer Sect, the spiritual energy in the air was thin, gritty, and cold.
Here, it was thick. It was a palpable, gentle pressure, like moving through clean, cool water. .
Their new "quarters" were not a hovel; they were a small, private courtyard with two clean,
separate rooms and a tiny, moss-covered garden.
It was, for the first week, a honeymoon.
They were safe. They had status. They had privacy.
They trained in their garden, using their "Harmonious Resonance" not for desperate survival, but
for real, tangible progress. They ate at the Inner Sect dining hall, where the food wasn't gruel,
but rice, and sometimes, meat.
Li Mei... blossomed. The "shy, gentle" mask became... real. She was no longer a coiled spring
of paranoia. She was... happy. She tended their tiny garden. She hummed. She was the perfect,
devoted, loving partner. The "leash" on Ren Wei's mind was no longer a cold, melancholy
weight; it was a... a soft, warm hum. A constant, gentle reminder that she was there. It was...
almost... comforting.
Ren Wei, the "Head," had set the rules: "We are invisible. We are nothing. We are just two,
lucky, average disciples who are grateful to be here. We keep our heads down. We learn. We
don't... 'prune'... anything."
And she, the "Hands," had agreed. "Whatever you say, my love. We... we're home."
The honeymoon ended, as it always did, with the first day of class.
They were in the main lecture hall, a vast, open-air amphitheater. And they were, once again,
trash.
The other "new" disciples were... different. They wore robes of silk, not just cotton. They carried
ornate, spiritual-grade swords. They formed small, arrogant cliques, their Qi-presence burning at
a level Ren Wei couldn't fathom. These weren't second-stage cultivators. Many were already at
the third or fourth stage. They were the true "geniuses," the "chosen ones" from powerful clans,
who had merely passed through the Outer Sect as a formality.
Ren Wei and Li Mei, with their hard-won second-stage cultivation, were weeds again. But this
time, they were weeds in a garden of priceless, exotic flowers.
A girl with a silver-thread robe and a hairpin carved from pure, blue spirit-jade, sat in the row in
front of them. She glanced back, her eyes, the color of winter frost, flicking over their "cheap"
cotton Inner Sect robes.
Her look was not one of hatred. It was not one of anger. It was one of pure, bottomless, bored
disdain. It was the look a princess gives the mud on her boot.
Ren Wei felt Li Mei... tense.
He gently, under the cover of the wide benches, placed his hand on her knee. He gave it a
small, firm squeeze. 'No. Stay. Invisible.'
He felt her relax. She leaned her head, just slightly, onto his shoulder. 'Yes, my love. Invisible.'
But the problem was... invisibility... had a cost.
When they went to the Resource Hall to claim their monthly "stipend" as Inner Disciples... they
were given the dregs. The lowest-grade spirit stones. The most common, near-worthless pills.
"Your... 'contribution' level is... 'Pending,'" the clerk had sneered. "And your... 'talent assessment'
is... 'Low-Mid.' This is what you... 'rate.'"
The gilded cage had just revealed its bars. They were here. But they were... stagnating. Their
"better" Qi and "better" food was only enough to keep them... here. It was not enough to
advance.
To advance, they needed "Contribution Points." And to get those, they had to take... missions.
"It's... it's the Outer Sect all over again," Ren Wei said, his voice flat. They were back in their "perfect" little courtyard. "They've just... raised... the price of survival."
Li Mei was... unbothered. "It's okay," she said, mending his new robe. "We... we have this. We
have each other. We... we'll just... be... slow."
"No," Ren Wei said. The... ambition... he'd felt... the power... he'd tasted... it was still there. "I...
we... are not... slow. We... we are smart. We... we just... need... resources."
He went to the Mission Hall. It was a chaotic, loud, brutal place. The "good" missions—the
"patrols," the "escorts"—were all snapped up by the powerful cliques.
All that was left... was the trash.
He saw one. A "C-Rank" posting, on a dusty, forgotten board.
"Clear 'Shadow-Weaver' Spiders from the Old Jade-Mist Forest Cistern."
The pay was... good. Too good.
"It's a C-Rank," Ren Wei reasoned with Li Mei that night. "It's... spiders. It's dirty work. . That's...
that's why no one took it. It's... 'beneath' them."
Li Mei looked at the mission slip, her brow furrowed. "I... I don't like spiders, Ren Wei."
"It'll be fine, Mei," he said, cupping her face. "We... we are fast. We... we'll be in, we'll be out.
And... and we'll have enough points... for a month. No... two months."
"...Okay," she finally whispered. "If... if you... think it's... safe. Together."
"Together," he promised.