The road curved along a rising ridge—and then, suddenly, the world opened before them.

  Zhang Tian squinted against the light, slowing without meaning to, breath catching in his throat.

  There—spread across the horizon like a vision out of some ancient immortal dream—stood seven colossal peaks, their tips vanishing into swirling silver mist.

  The Seven Serenity Peaks.

  Each mountain crowned with yers of jade-green terraces, waterfalls spilling from their sides like ribbons of light, feeding into a wide, radiant ke at the heart of the valley—the famed Rank 2 Spiritual Spring.

  The mist that rose from the ke wasn’t ordinary.Even from this distance, Zhang Tian could feel it brushing against his skin, soothing old bruises, easing the weariness from his bones.

  It was said that living beneath these peaks, breathing this air, drinking this water, prolonged life, strengthened the body, and deepened one's spiritual root—at least, for those lucky enough to be born here.

  At the very foot of the mountains, small vilges sprawled outward, nestled like pearls scattered by a zy god’s hand.

  But these weren’t common vilges.

  No random mortals happened to live here.These vilges had been built generations ago by the Water Serenity Sect itself—for the families, descendants, and retives of cultivators who had joined or served the sect.

  It was a rare gift.

  Mortals born under the peaks lived better, longer, and richer lives than those outside the sect's domain.

  Many would never cultivate themselves—but they prospered in health, craft, and peace, cradled under the protection of the sect’s influence.

  The spiritual water that trickled down the mountains lost some of its potency with each level, but even diluted, it was more precious than anything found beyond the bordernds.

  Above the vilges rose the outer sect grounds—orderly fields of training arenas, alchemy halls, and simple stone pavilions.

  Above those, the inner sect halls, where the stronger disciples lived and trained under stricter guidance.

  Above them, hidden in the swirling mists, the legacy disciples' domains and the private dwellings of the elders.

  And highest of all—so high they seemed like gods' paces perched on clouds—The Peak Masters held court, their estates blending into the heavens themselves.

  Somewhere, deep within the hidden heart of the mountains, guarded beyond mortal reach, the true source of the spring y—the main vein of the spiritual spring, watched over by the Sect Master and the oldest, most revered Ancestors of the Water Serenity Sect.

  Zhang Tian took it all in.

  The grandeur.The peace.The staggering weight of history pressed into every stone, every breath of misted air.

  And yet—

  As they marched toward the entry gates, it was impossible to ignore the contrast.

  Fresh groups of immortal seedlings gathered under banners ahead.

  Their robes were crisp.Their faces unmarked by terror.Their senior guardians rode clean beasts without blood-matted fur or broken limbs.

  Some groups even ughed quietly, trading casual jokes.

  By comparison, Zhang Tian’s group—what was left of it—was a parade of ghosts.

  Their clothes were torn.Their eyes were hollow.Their steps uncertain, dragged by exhaustion and grief.

  No one said anything.

  But the gnces from other groups—the pitying, curious, dismissive looks—cut deeper than any sword.

  Passing under the archway, Fang Chen muttered so low that only Zhang Tian could hear:

  "Luckless," he said. "We were cursed from the start."

  Later, gathered at the outer sect's provisional assembly field, the reinforcement leader found a quiet moment beside Xiao Fang.

  He hesitated, then asked softly:

  "Daoist Xiao Fang… Lin Xian.. and Jin Yuan?"

  She turned, her face shadowed and worn.

  For a moment, she didn't answer.

  Then, a single sharp shake of her head.

  "Dead," she said.

  No further expnation.

  No comfort.

  Just fact.

  The brightest fmes among them—snuffed out without ceremony.

  Zhang Tian swallowed, hearing this, saying nothing.

  Above them, mist rolled down the mountain slopes like a slow tide.

  Carrying whispers of those who survived.

  And of those who didn't.

  Slowly, from the provisional assembly field, a man stepped onto a raised ptform.

  His hair was silver, his eyes a deep, piercing crimson.His countenance was striking—sharp features, an otherworldly charm that made him seem almost untouchable.He stood upright, hands csped behind his back, his robes flowing gently in a rhythm only he seemed to know.

  The murmuring crowd gradually fell silent.

  When he finally spoke, his voice carried with ease over the field, calm yet commanding:

  "Welcome, young dragons and phoenixes," he said, a smile pying at the corner of his mouth."I am Immortal Huang Li, representative of the Water Serenity Sect. Today, I welcome you to the Seven Serenity Peaks."

  He gestured behind him at the towering mountains.

  "The peaks you see before you are ranked from shortest to tallest, reflecting the strength of their respective Peak Masters—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Each peak specializes in one of the sacred Hundred Mystic Arts:

  Red Peak: Talismans.Orange Peak: Formations.Yellow Peak: Sword Arts.Green Peak: Alchemy.Blue Peak: Healing and Herbal Arts.Indigo Peak: Illusions.Violet Peak... well, that is a mystery you must earn the right to uncover."His crimson gaze swept across the assembled juniors, noting the disparity among the groups—some fresh-faced, others battered and bloodied from long journeys.He sighed inwardly but continued without pause.

  "Each peak teaches all disciplines to some extent, but for deeper mastery, it falls upon your own comprehension, luck... and fate."

  He paused, letting the weight of his words settle over them.

  "But," Huang Li continued, voice dropping slightly, "arriving here does not mean you are true disciples of the Water Serenity Sect yet."

  A ripple of confusion and tension ran through the crowd.

  "You have merely qualified for settlement on the lowest levels—the vilges beneath the outer sect. There, you may live comfortably, supported by the sect, and even marry should you wish. Those who produce children with immortal roots will be generously rewarded. Their offspring given priority consideration for sect admission."

  At these words, many looked at each other uncertainly, some frowning, others calcuting. Some faces turned pale. Others steeled themselves with gritted teeth.

  Huang Li smiled faintly, reading their expressions with ease.

  "For those who wish a higher path, you may attempt to join the Outer Sect directly—above the mortal vilges. This will require deeper evaluation of your talent, perseverance, and potential."

  He let the silence stretch, his aura subtly thickening, pressing down on the field.

  Most of the juniors remained still, uncertain, but a few clenched their fists, determined.

  Huang Li coughed lightly into his fist before continuing, tone casual again:

  "Within the mortal vilges, minor inheritance practices exist, but spiritual resources are limited. If you choose this path, you must register as a citizen of the peak you select."

  He waved his sleeve, revealing a faint blueprint-like scroll of peaks and divisions.

  Huang Li’s voice remained steady, projecting effortlessly across the field:

  "Within the Outer Sect, disciples are assigned to various halls—each one vital to the life and strength of our sect."

  With a casual sweep of his sleeve, shimmering sigils of water and mist floated briefly behind him, forming faint emblems in the air.

  "You may be pced into:

  The Contribution Hall, responsible for refining materials, crafting artifacts, assisting alchemy bs, or cultivating rare herbs.The Mission Hall, where you will undertake tasks for merit—escort missions, beast hunting, artifact retrieval, and occasionally mortal world affairs.The Correctional Hall, charged with upholding sect rules—investigating infractions, mediating disputes, and enforcing punishments.The Logistics Hall, managing supplies, spirit beast stables, transport formations, and ensuring the daily functioning of sect life.The Intelligence Hall, gathering information from the mortal realms and rival sects, safeguarding our interests behind the scenes.The Records Hall, tasked with preserving manuals, recording breakthroughs, copying ancient scrolls, and maintaining sect history.The Outer Pill Hall, dedicated to supporting alchemists and tending the outer medicine gardens under the Green Peak’s guidance."He paused slightly, allowing the heavy reality of his words to settle over the crowd.

  "Understand," he said more slowly, "that all disciples—regardless of their talent—must contribute to the sect.This is not only duty. It is survival."

  He allowed the faint murmuring to fade before continuing, voice shifting slightly:

  "Beyond assignment to halls, another path lies open to those among you who are bold."

  He paused meaningfully, mist curling softly at his feet.

  "The Mentorship Programs."

  Another wave of whispers stirred the crowd.

  "Some of our Outer Sect Seniors—cultivators who have risen to the te stages of Qi Condensation—may take promising seedlings under their personal guidance."

  His voice remained formal, even as his crimson gaze swept over the juniors.

  "They will lead small teams on missions outside the sect, offer training, and provide direct experience."

  Excitement sparked in many eyes.

  "But," Huang Li continued, his tone sharpening like a bde drawn from silk,"do not mistake this for pure charity."

  He smiled faintly—a smile that did not reach his eyes.

  "Senior disciples, too, seek merit and status.Taking juniors into their fold benefits them as well as you."

  The mist thickened slightly around the ptform, lending an eerie weight to his next words.

  "Some seniors are steadfast in their guidance," Huang Li said smoothly."Others... pursue their own ambitions with determination."

  He let the words hang, smiling too faintly to be read clearly.

  "Choose carefully whom you walk beside."

  The mist curled low, the sigils behind him fading into nothingness.

  "And remember—should you tread a dangerous road under another’s banner," Huang Li said lightly,"the path—and its end—will be yours to bear."

  A few of the smarter youths began nodding thoughtfully.

  "And above the Outer Sect," he said, his voice firm, "is the Inner Sect, where disciples train under the strict guidance of Foundation Establishment masters."

  At this, the crowd visibly brightened—eyes shining with hope.

  Huang Li allowed himself a small chuckle.

  "Do not despair, those of you with weaker immortal roots. Through contribution, loyalty, and hard work, some of you may still ascend into higher ranks."

  He left unsaid that such cases were rare—exceptional, even.

  Inwardly, he mused coldly:

  'Those with weak roots exist mainly to breed the next generation of cultivators.'

  The higher one climbed in cultivation, the more difficult bearing descendants became.To someone like him, mortals and low-grade seedlings were simply necessary stepping stones.

  But his outward smile remained warm, unbroken.

  "Above the Inner Sect," Huang Li continued, "lies the Legacy Peak—home to the sect's true elites. The Legacy Disciples, the private halls of the Elders, the direct inheritors of the sect's deepest secrets."

  Just then, a young boy near the front shyly raised his hand, only for his guide to quickly try pulling it down.

  But Huang Li ughed lightly, raising a hand in indulgence.

  "Speak, young hero. What question lies on your heart?"

  The freckled boy, with bck hair and wide innocent eyes, asked timidly:

  "Immortal Senior Huang... at what level do you reside?"

  Huang Li threw back his head and ughed—a musical, charming sound that echoed across the assembly field.Several of the younger girls instantly blushed, their faces turning pink, lost in dazed admiration.

  A few boys stiffened with jealousy, clenching their fists behind their backs.A small but undeniable minority of boys, however, also blushed faintly—faces coloring before they quickly ducked their heads in embarrassment.

  The sight might have been almost funny—if the atmosphere weren't so heavy.

  But no one dared ugh openly.

  "You are bold!" Huang Li praised, the edges of his crimson eyes crinkling with amusement."Fear not. I am a Legacy Disciple under the Red Peak Master, specializing in the Way of Talismans."

  With a casual flick of his sleeve, he drew forth a glowing talisman—a mid-rank, first-tier artifact—and tossed it lightly toward the boy.

  The talisman floated gently into the youth’s hands, a soft golden shimmer trailing its path.

  A low murmur of envy rippled through the crowd.Some girls stared dreamily.Some boys gred daggers.

  The smarter few, however, squinted suspiciously.

  Because only a handful realized the truth:

  The boy was no ordinary newcomer.

  He was a pnt—pced there beforehand to elevate Huang Li’s benevolent image.

  By the end of the ceremony, he would vanish as quietly as he'd appeared.

  Huang Li smiled warmly at the crowd, standing tall against the misty mountains behind him.But beneath that handsome exterior, his thoughts remained cold, meticulous, and utterly calcuting.

  Not all smiles were kind.Not all opportunities were real.

  And the sooner these new seedlings learned that lesson, the better their chances of surviving what y ahead.