The night was too quiet.
Lan Qingyun remained standing at the fractured spirit valley long after the disciples had retreated.
The mountain felt thinner now.
Like it was breathing through damaged lungs.
He could sense it clearly — the spiritual flow uneven, broken in segments, no longer nourishing the outer fields properly.
They would feel it within days.
Cultivation would slow.
Resources would shrink.
Morale would crack.
He exhaled.
"A hundred years," he muttered softly.
He had endured mediocrity.
He had endured departures.
He had endured watching prodigies leave.
He had endured slow decline.
Now even the foundation of the sect was wounded.
He almost laughed.
Almost.
"If there was ever a time," he said quietly to the empty sky, "it would be now."
Silence.
Wind.
Distant coughing from the inner courtyard.
Then—
Something snapped.
Not in the sky.
Not in the mountain.
In his mind.
A sharp, crystalline shatter — like glass breaking inside his consciousness.
Lan Qingyun stiffened.
Golden Core instantly rotated at full speed.
His aura flared instinctively.
But the sensation wasn't external.
It was internal.
A surge of light burst behind his closed eyelids.
Not blinding.
Not painful.
But overwhelming.
An endless golden horizon unfolded within his mind.
Lines of light stitched themselves together like constellations forming characters.
Symbols he had never learned — yet somehow understood.
A voice echoed.
Clear.
Young.
Annoyingly composed.
"Activation successful."
Lan Qingyun froze.
He did not speak.
He did not breathe.
The voice continued.
"Host verified."
His jaw twitched.
Slowly.
Very slowly.
"…You're joking."
A pause.
Then—
"No."
Silence.
The golden horizon shimmered faintly.
Lan Qingyun blinked once.
Twice.
Then looked around the valley.
Everything normal.
No heavenly signs.
No spiritual fluctuation.
Nothing.
Only him.
And the voice.
His lips parted.
"You."
"Yes."
His eyebrow twitched harder.
"You."
"Correct."
He inhaled sharply.
"…Now?"
"Timing appropriate."
He stared into the darkness.
"A hundred years."
"Yes."
"A hundred."
"Confirmed."
His eye twitched.
"You couldn't come at eighteen?"
"No."
"Thirty?"
"No."
"Fifty?"
"Still no."
His breathing grew heavier.
"You watched me wait."
"Accurate."
"And decided this—" he gestured vaguely in the air, "—was appropriate?"
There was a faint shift in tone.
Amusement.
"You are still alive. That is sufficient."
Lan Qingyun stared into nothing.
Then he laughed.
A short, incredulous sound.
"You are unbelievable."
"I am excellent."
He actually choked on air.
"…Excellent?"
"Naturally."
He pressed his fingers against his temple.
"You're smug."
"Observation accepted."
"I was dying out here."
"Incorrect. You are Mid Golden Core."
"That's not the point!"
"Clarify point."
He stopped himself.
"No. No weird wording."
A pause.
The voice adjusted slightly.
"…State your complaint plainly."
He pointed at the fractured valley.
"My sect is falling apart."
"Yes."
"My master is dying."
"Yes."
"My spirit vein is cracked."
"Yes."
"And now you show up."
"Yes."
He stared upward.
Then down.
Then upward again.
"…You're late."
Silence.
Then—
"…Perhaps."
He blinked.
"…Perhaps?"
"Minor delay."
"Minor?"
"One century is insignificant on a broader scale."
"I'm not on a broader scale!"
There it was again.
That faint tone.
Almost teasing.
"Your impatience is noted."
Lan Qingyun closed his eyes.
Inhaled slowly.
Exhaled slowly.
"You know what," he muttered, "fine."
He straightened.
"If you're here, then where's my newbie reward?"
Silence.
Then—
"…Denied."
He nearly slipped off the cliff.
"…Denied?"
"You are not a newbie."
"I just activated!"
"You cultivated for one hundred years."
"I waited one hundred years!"
"That is unrelated."
His eye twitched violently.
"I deserve compensation."
"You received activation."
"That's not compensation!"
"It is."
Lan Qingyun pointed accusingly at empty air.
"I want a starter pack."
"No."
"Lottery?"
"No."
"Heavenly sword?"
"No."
"Physique upgrade?"
"Absolutely not."
His jaw dropped.
"You are stingy!"
"You are old."
He froze.
"…Excuse me?"
"Compared to standard activation age."
"I am barely past one hundred!"
"Exactly."
He clenched his fists.
"This is discrimination."
"It is reality."
He stared into the darkness long and hard.
Then muttered, "I should have asked for you less politely when I was younger."
A faint pause.
Then—
"…That would not have changed anything."
He squinted.
"…So you admit you ignored me."
"I was not available."
"Oh now you weren't available."
"Correct."
He exhaled sharply through his nose.
"Fine. Fine."
He folded his arms.
"If no newbie reward, what do you actually do?"
The golden horizon brightened.
Lines of light rearranged into clear characters.
Sect Revival System
Lan Qingyun blinked.
"…Sect."
"Correct."
His expression shifted slightly.
Focused now.
"Explain."
The golden space expanded.
Structures formed.
Buildings.
Fields.
Formations.
Disciples represented as faint silhouettes.
Primary Objective:Restore Azure Wind Sect to Top Five within the Azure Wind Region.
He stared.
Then barked out a laugh.
"You show up a century late and give me homework?"
"Major Task issued."
"How long?"
Time Limit: 20 Years
He stared silently.
Then started laughing again.
"Twenty?"
"Sufficient."
"We just lost half our territory!"
"Noted."
"Our spirit vein is damaged!"
"Observed."
"We have fifty average disciples!"
"Accurate."
"And you think twenty years is sufficient?"
There was that faint smug tone again.
"If you cannot achieve this, activation was unnecessary."
He went quiet.
Very quiet.
That tone.
That challenge.
Something inside him straightened.
"You're provoking me."
"Yes."
He narrowed his eyes.
"Good."
The golden interface shifted again.
Major Task Reward:High-Grade Spirit Vein RestorationSect Grade AdvancementThree Random High-Tier Rewards
Failure:System Dormancy
He froze.
"…Dormancy?"
"If major task fails, I will leave."
"You'll leave?"
"Correct."
"You waited a hundred years to show up and you'll leave?"
"If you are unworthy."
His lips slowly curved.
"You really are arrogant."
"Confidence."
He shook his head.
"Fine. What else?"
Golden text expanded.
Minor Tasks Issued (10):
Stabilize the damaged spirit vein to at least 60% output.
Expand sect population to 1000 members
Produce 15 Foundation Establishment disciples.
Produce 1 Peak Foundation Establishment disciple.
Recruit 2 Low Golden Core elders.
Accumulate 1,000,000 mid-grade spirit stones.
Fully develop core sect facilities
Enter the Top 10 sect ranking
Repel one major external suppression attempt
Maintain masters life
He stopped at the last line.
"…Maintain master's life?"
"Yes."
"You can help with that?"
"Task reward available."
His chest tightened slightly.
"So you waited until he was dying."
"…Timing aligns."
He stared at the list.
Then muttered quietly,
"You're really something."
"Correct."
He smirked despite himself.
"Alright then."
He looked out over the wounded valley.
The cracked spirit vein.
The thin spiritual mist.
The quiet mountain.
"Twenty years, huh."
"Yes."
"You sure this place isn't too backward for you?"
There was a faint pause.
Then—
"…It is somewhat rural."
He snorted.
"Rural?"
"Spiritual density low. Development behind. Standards modest."
"You just insulted my homeland."
"Objectively."
He laughed softly.
"You're going to regret saying that."
"Doubtful."
He turned toward the inner courtyard.
Toward the faint coughing of his master.
Toward fifty uncertain disciples.
Toward a mountain that refused to die quietly.
His Golden Core rotated smoothly.
Steady.
Confident.
"A century late," he murmured.
"Minor delay."
He smirked.
"Fine."
His eyes sharpened.
"Let's see if you're worth the wait."
The golden horizon shimmered brightly.
For the first time in a hundred years—
Lan Qingyun felt something different.
Not destiny descending.
Not miracle.
But momentum.
And this time—
He wasn't waiting.