Days ter, as the sun filtered softly through the trees and the faint scent of dew still clung to the earth, Senior Xiao Fang stood before the gathered youths. Her purple cloud-patterned robe billowed slightly with the breeze, and her voice was calm yet firm as she began the day’s lecture.

  “Before you are brought to the sect, there are things you must understand,” she said, sweeping her gaze over the group. “The cultivation world is not only about strength, but structure, tradition, and survival.”

  She began with the topic of seniority. “In the cultivation world, one must always be mindful of their standing. A mere outer disciple with two years more experience can hold seniority over you, and that standing must be respected unless one has the status—or the power—to oppose it. Disrespect, even if unintentional, can lead to lethal consequences.”

  After a pause, she tapped her jade slip and continued, “There exist what are called the Hundred Cultivation Arts. These are not literal in number, but refer to the wide variety of techniques and paths cultivators can follow—body refinement, soul arts, sword cultivation, talisman crafting, beast taming, pill refinement, and so on. Every sect, cn, and wandering cultivator walks their own version of this path.”

  She then turned to the subject of beasts. “You will encounter all manner of beasts on your journey. But understand their distinctions.”

  Common beasts are animals that have not cultivated essence.Spirit beasts are those that have begun cultivating essence and can dispy traits such as increased intelligence, element affinity, or minor magical abilities.Demonic beasts are spirit beasts that cultivate through killing and consuming blood essence. They are violent, cunning, and often deeply territorial.Earthly beasts are high-ranking beings, often capable of speech and deep understanding, typically at or beyond the Golden Core realm in strength.Heavenly beasts...” She hesitated a moment. “They are rare, almost mythical. Each is born under unique celestial phenomena and their very presence alters the world around them. Few in the lower realms will ever see one.”She gave them time to absorb this before continuing. “You may think yourselves lucky to be chosen, and you are. But do not forget—every one of you here is elite among mortals. This is not a charity.”

  She gestured at the nd surrounding them. “This is the Yellow Dragon River territory. For mortals, it is a nd of impassable wilds, mysterious mists, and beasts they cannot name. But for cultivators, it is a testing ground—harsh, but manageable. That you survived entry means each of you has potential. Martial talent, survival instinct, or sheer fortune.”

  Zhang Tian, sitting with his legs crossed, let her words sink in. He gazed out at the lush ndscape around them, taking in the rivers that coiled like silver threads through the mountains and valleys. This pce... it’s different from the cities and slums I knew. Everything feels... wider.

  Xiao Fang continued, drawing a rough map in the air with her finger using essence to sketch glowing lines.

  “To the west lies the Dead Wood Territory—a withered pce, dense with ancient trees and remnant curses. It is mostly avoided, though some cultivators go there to temper themselves. Beyond it, far beyond it, begins the true cultivation territories, nds soaked with essence veins, home to sects and hidden cns.”

  She looked at them seriously.

  “Understand this: while cultivation sects rarely interfere with the secur human world, they do not neglect it. Evil cultivators and dangerous forces are drawn to the wless edges of mortal nds. To prevent that corruption, the major sects station monitoring posts and recruit promising individuals from the mortal world.”

  Her eyes rested on Zhang Tian for a moment—just briefly—before moving on.

  Zhang Tian straightened unconsciously. So... that’s how I was found.

  He thought back to his past. Before all this, he had already climbed to the peak of the second martial rank—a feat few ever managed in the mundane world. Even now, some of the others here had simir stories: sons of guards who became unmatched spearmen, orphaned hunters who could run alongside wolves, girls born in mountain vilges who punched through stone. They were all exceptional, in their own ways.

  But even still... this world feels deeper than I imagined. Bigger. The edge of uncertainty that had once clung to him had dulled. In its pce, a faint, quiet hunger had begun to stir—curiosity, challenge... and perhaps even ambition.

  As the st glowing line of essence from Xiao Fang’s map faded into the air, she turned to face the youths again, her expression calm but firm.

  “You may be wondering,” she said, “why, despite being deep within the Yellow Dragon River territory—a pce considered deadly to mortals—you have not yet faced danger beyond the initial trial.”

  She raised her hand and drew a faint sigil in the air with a flick of her finger. A ripple of energy shimmered outward before vanishing again. “That is because this location is protected by several yered formation arrays.”

  The air around them suddenly felt heavier, more defined, as if something unseen watched from all directions.

  “These arrays are hidden to the untrained eye, but they form a protective net—concealing this area from outside detection, repelling weaker spirit beasts, and alerting nearby guardians to any intrusion.”

  Zhang Tian’s brows lifted slightly. That would expin the constant calm, even with beasts lurking in the region...

  Xiao Fang continued, “This temporary cultivation site is one of many scattered throughout our sect’s border regions. It is not only protected by formations, but also monitored and patrolled by senior disciples. While you train and cultivate, they clean the perimeter, eliminating anything that might pose a threat to juniors.”

  She looked across the group, letting her words sink in.

  “But do not mistake this safety for permanence. This is a courtesy extended only until you’re strong enough to defend yourselves. Once you reach the second rank of Qi Condensation, we’ll begin preparations to leave for the main sect.”

  There was a brief silence as the group processed this. Some exchanged gnces, others looked toward the horizon, perhaps imagining what y beyond these protected woods.

  Zhang Tian remained quiet, his gaze focused ahead. So this peace is temporary... That makes sense. This whole world is built around strength. Relying on others won’t st forever.

  Still, he found it comforting to know there were seniors keeping watch for now. A seed of appreciation nestled in his chest, a quiet acknowledgment of the unseen efforts that let them cultivate in safety.

  Xiao Fang gave one final reminder.

  “As always, do not wander beyond the boundaries marked with red talismans. Beyond that line, even formations cannot guarantee your safety. Stay within the array, stay focused—and don’t waste this opportunity.”

  Then, with a rustle of her robes, she turned and walked toward her small encampment near the stone pavilion, leaving the group to return to their cultivation and thoughts.

  Ten days passed, and the rhythm of training settled into a familiar routine. The air had grown thicker with the hum of Qi as the disciples focused their efforts on cultivating their spiritual energy. By now, many of them had crossed the threshold into the second realm of Qi Condensation, their bodies stronger, their connection to the world’s essence deepened.

  It was on the twentieth day that the first of them reached the second realm, a significant milestone marking the transition from mere novices to true cultivators. This was followed closely by the second, the third, and the fourth—each achieving the breakthrough in swift succession. The air seemed to vibrate with the growing strength around them, like a pulse of life, constantly renewing itself.

  Zhang Tian, however, remained focused on his own cultivation, undistracted by the accomplishments of his peers. He had always been a bit of a solitary figure, pushing himself beyond the standard limits with a quiet, relentless determination. When the breakthrough finally came, it was with a sense of quiet satisfaction rather than surprise.

  Five days after the others had reached the second realm, Zhang Tian felt the stirrings of power deep within him. His Qi surged, a new awareness blooming inside his mind—his Spiritual Sense had awakened.

  The first sensation was like the opening of his eyes after years of darkness. His connection to the world around him expanded, no longer confined to what he could see or touch. Now, he could sense the Qi flowing through the earth, the trees, the air around him, and even the subtle movements of his fellow disciples. But it wasn’t just a passive awareness—he could reach into things, influence them with this newfound sense.

  During one of the early training sessions, the disciples were given a series of practice dummies. These were not ordinary bags; they were hollow shells, specifically designed for cultivators to hone their spatial awareness. These “dummy bags” were imbued with weak space formation arrays, giving them a rudimentary version of the spatial properties that the real spiritual bags possessed.

  Zhang Tian sat with one of the bags before him, its exterior made of a coarse, tan fabric. He could feel the faint pulse of Qi within it as he focused his Spiritual Sense, trying to sense the formation inside. It wasn’t easy at first—his control over the new skill was still developing—but slowly, he began to perceive the subtle lines of the formation array inscribed within the dummy bag.

  The space inside felt like a hollow void, stretching far beyond what should be possible for such a small object. He could sense the faintest distortion in the air around him, an intangible feeling of emptiness that wasn’t really emptiness at all. This was the first step to understanding how these bags worked.

  The inferior space formation in the dummy bag allowed Zhang Tian to push his Spiritual Sense into the bag, probing deeper into its hidden interior. He could sense the faintest traces of Qi woven into the formation, and with a focused thought, he could manipute the Qi to alter the bag’s inner space—just slightly. It was nothing compared to the real spiritual bags, which could hold vast amounts of items with ease, but for now, this practice was invaluable.

  With a slow breath, Zhang Tian reached deeper, feeling the boundary of the space open just a fraction. The sensation was strange, like touching the edge of a fragile membrane. He could imagine how, with the proper mastery, the formation could expand to hold more items, making it possible to carry far more than any ordinary bag could manage.

  Despite the limitations of the dummy bag, Zhang Tian felt a quiet thrill as he experimented. This was just a glimpse of what could be achieved, and it was a step toward greater control over the mysteries of the cultivation world.

  He spent hours refining his control, allowing his Spiritual Sense to stretch further into the dummy bag’s formation. Each time he touched it, it felt a little easier, the process more intuitive. The potential of these items fascinated him. These formations were more than just tools—they were keys to unlocking more efficient ways of living, of exploring the world.

  With each subtle shift, Zhang Tian felt the world around him expanding. The dummy bag, humble as it was, was the first tangible reminder that he was not merely learning to wield power; he was learning to manipute the very fabric of reality itself. And though this was just a small exercise, Zhang Tian knew it was the beginning of something much greater.

  The more he practiced, the more certain he became: The cultivation world was vast, and he was only beginning to uncover its depths.

  As night fell several days ter, the forest y wrapped in its usual veil of mist and silence. Nearly two months had passed since Zhang Tian had entered this world—since he had stepped into the uncertain path of cultivation.

  That night, his sleep was deeper than usual, and within it, a peculiar dream took shape.

  He found himself standing in a vast, colorless void. All around him stretched a sea of gray fog, thick and endless, curling in silent, shifting swirls across an infinite expanse. There was no sky, no ground—only mist and stillness.

  And yet… not entirely.

  Far ahead, a shape broke the monotony of the fog. A titanic sb rose from the unknown ground, its sheer scale unimaginable. It was pitch bck in color, a monolith that extended beyond the heavens, disappearing into the gray sky above. The air around it thrummed with power, and despite its stillness, it exuded an ancient, immovable presence.

  Drawn forward, Zhang Tian approached the sb. As he came closer, pale golden runes stirred across its surface like veins of light. They pulsed softly, climbing upward in unknowable patterns—runes of a nguage he couldn’t read, yet somehow felt familiar.

  Embedded within the surface were what looked like massive frames—like carved windows in the obsidian monument. Within one of them, his breath caught.

  Inside that frame was himself.

  Or at least… a version of himself.

  He stared up at the image: a young man with jet-bck hair, sleek and flowing, eyebrows sharp as bdes, and a gaze that radiated serenity and confidence. His posture was poised, proud, and filled with youthful vitality—yet there was a calm strength beneath it, a presence that seemed to belong to someone who had seen far more than his years suggested.

  And yet, the image wasn’t fully formed.

  Half of it was vivid, shining with definition and life. But the other half… faded. As if the frame itself was undecided—unable to commit to his shape. That half blurred like mist, ghosting out into the surrounding stone.

  He stood there for a long while, staring up at himself, unsure what he was meant to feel.

  Awe?

  Doubt?

  Fear?

  Or perhaps… possibility?

  The golden runes pulsed again, more brightly now, and the frame flickered faintly, as if reacting to his presence. But before he could reach out, before he could understand anything more—

  The fog swirled violently, and the dream dissolved.

  Zhang Tian awoke with a sudden intake of breath.

  His heart pounded, and a fine sheen of sweat clung to his brow. The early morning mist drifted zily across the camp, just as it had the day before. Birds chirped softly in the distance. The warmth of sunlight crept slowly across the forest canopy, and the world felt unchanged.

  Just a dream... he thought.