In Xiaolong's five thousand years of existence, she had witnessed the rise and fall of dynasties, the birth and death of stars, and the complete geological rearrangement of entire mountain ranges.

  None of these cosmic events, however, had prepared her for the particular chaos of forty-seven cultivators attempting to pack for a five-day journey while simultaneously arguing about the optimal number of spirit stones one should bring to a prestigious cultivation conference.

  "Seventeen is the absolute minimum," insisted a junior disciple, clutching a pouch that clinked with the distinctive sound of crystallized spiritual energy. "Master Liu always says a proper cultivator should carry one spirit stone for each major meridian!"

  "Ridiculous excess," countered another, whose own pouch appeared suspiciously light. "The Cloud Summit provides ambient spiritual energy pools for all participants. Bringing your own spirit stones is like carrying a bucket of water to a lake."

  "A prudent cultivator prepares for drought even when swimming," interjected Li Feng with the automatic delivery of someone quoting a maxim they'd heard ten thousand times during their formative years.

  Xiaolong observed this exchange with the bemused detachment of a being who could, if necessary, generate enough spiritual energy to power the entire sect's operations for several centuries without noticeable personal depletion. The human preoccupation with resource scarcity continued to fascinate her—a fundamental difference between draconic and human existence.

  Dragons accumulated vast hoards not out of any practical need but as displays of status and territorial markers. The typical dragon could comfortably survive several millennia without external energy sources if necessary.

  The idea of carefully counting spirit stones struck her as similar to an immortal emperor meticulously tallying individual grains of rice.

  "What about you, Senior Sister Xiaolong?" asked a particularly earnest young disciple named Wei Lin, whose perpetually wide eyes gave him the appearance of someone continuously witnessing minor miracles. "How many spirit stones will you bring?"

  All eyes turned to her with the particular intensity cultivation disciples reserved for potential wisdom from mysterious seniors. She had somehow, despite her best efforts at maintaining appropriate distance, become something of a sect celebrity—the strange cultivator with unusual techniques who could make water dance, plants bow, and six-tailed fox spirits perform elaborate acrobatics.

  "I find that..." Xiaolong began, choosing her words carefully to avoid admitting she had never in her existence required a spirit stone, "...the journey itself often provides exactly what one needs, if one remains attentive to opportunity."

  This non-answer, delivered with appropriate mystical gravity, generated the expected murmurs of appreciation. In the cultivation world, saying absolutely nothing while sounding profound counted as a legitimate philosophical tradition.

  Ming Lian, who had been observing this exchange with barely concealed amusement, sidled up beside her. "Masterfully vague," he whispered. "You could write cultivation manuals with that level of helpful ambiguity."

  "I simply answered the question in a manner appropriate to the audience," she replied primly.

  "Of course." His eyes danced with mischief. "Much like how I 'appropriately' told Junior Sister Chen that fox spirit fur can predict rainfall if stroked in the correct pattern. Poor Hui Yun has been fending off weather-divination requests all morning."

  As if summoned by its name, the six-tailed fox bounded into view, looking decidedly ruffled. Three of its tails appeared to have been recently combed against the grain, while the others bore traces of what might have been ceremonial chalk dust.

  "Been getting poked all morning!" it complained, tails twitching. "Seventeen disciples wanting rain-telling! East council says proper weather magic needs three days of fancy prayers first!"

  "How unfortunate that the disciples were not properly informed of standard procedural requirements," Xiaolong observed with deliberately feigned sympathy.

  "Right? Poor me! Little Wei Lin tried really hard though—got candles and everything! Had to tell him something, so I said maybe rain for seven days, then probably not-rain after that."

  Ming Lian's expression suggested this was possibly the funniest thing he had heard in several cultivation cycles. "Seven days of rain followed by eventual cosmic clarity," he repeated with evident delight. "That covers essentially all possible meteorological outcomes for the rest of existence."

  "Exactly!" Hui Yun's tails swished with self-satisfaction. "Good fortune-tellers never wrong, just misunderstood!"

  Their banter was interrupted as Li Feng approached, his arms filled with scrolls detailing travel formations and sect diplomatic protocols. Xiaolong immediately noticed something concerning—a subtle flicker in his spiritual energy that manifested as nearly imperceptible unevenness in his normally flawless cultivation aura.

  "Li Feng," she said, her draconic perception automatically cataloging minute details humans would never notice, "your third and seventh meridians are displaying asynchronous circulation patterns."

  He blinked, momentarily surprised by this unusually specific observation. "You can perceive individual meridian circulation without diagnostic techniques?"

  An excellent question, and one that highlighted how easily her inhuman perceptions slipped through her carefully maintained fa?ade.

  "I... have specialized training in energy diagnosis," she improvised, cursing her carelessness. "Subtle fluctuation patterns suggest you've been pushing your cultivation advancement unusually hard."

  "Merely appropriate preparation," he replied with a dismissive smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "The Cloud Summit represents significant opportunity for the Azure Waters Sect. As an elder disciple, I must ensure optimal representation."

  This explanation would have satisfied most observers. However, Xiaolong had spent the past several months studying Li Feng with the obsessive attention that dragons typically reserved for particularly interesting cosmic phenomena.

  The slightly elevated temperature of his skin, the microscopically uneven dilation of his pupils, and the almost imperceptible delay in his spiritual response patterns all indicated substantial cultivation strain.

  "Water boy's got the wobbles," declared Hui Yun with unexpected seriousness, its fox senses apparently detecting what human cultivators missed. "East folks say important meetings need rest-time first! No practice-till-you-break nonsense!"

  For once, Xiaolong found herself in complete agreement with the fox's assessment, though she would rather swallow a mountain than admit it.

  "It's nothing significant," Li Feng insisted, his typically serene expression momentarily tightening with something resembling annoyance—a rare emotion from the usually unflappable water cultivator. "Slight adjustment period from practicing advanced techniques. It will resolve naturally by tomorrow."

  Ming Lian, displaying unexpected perceptiveness beneath his typically frivolous exterior, studied his friend with narrowed eyes. "You've been attempting the Waterfall Convergence methods, haven't you? Without proper foundation stabilization?"

  The flash of guilt across Li Feng's face confirmed this assessment, though he quickly masked it with cultivator serenity.

  "The Cloud Summit represents our sect's first major recognition opportunity in three decades," he said quietly. "Elder Wei specifically mentioned the importance of demonstrating advanced water manipulation techniques to counter the Golden Sun Sect's domination of elemental displays."

  Xiaolong recognized the subtle pressure dynamics at play—the expectations placed on promising disciples, the political maneuvering between rival sects, the constant push toward advancement that defined human cultivation.

  Dragons faced their own pressures, of course, but over timescales measured in centuries rather than mere seasons. The urgency that drove humans to risk their fragile bodies for momentary advantage continued to perplex her.

  "Impressive dedication!" declared a new voice, slicing through their conversation with the particular precision of a perfectly honed spiritual blade.

  Song Bai approached, her immaculate appearance and flawlessly controlled spiritual aura presenting stark contrast to Li Feng's subtle disarray. She carried a jade communication tablet—mark of her trusted position among Elder Wei's inner circle of disciples.

  "Elder Wei has finalized the delegation assignments," she announced, directing her words primarily to Li Feng while acknowledging the others with minimal courtesy. "You'll lead the junior disciples' procession demonstration, third formation sequence."

  The implications of this assignment weren't lost on Xiaolong. The third formation sequence represented the most technically demanding water manipulation display, requiring perfect control of multiple water sources simultaneously.

  Under normal circumstances, Li Feng would handle this with characteristic grace. In his current condition, it would push already strained spiritual pathways to potentially dangerous limits.

  "A prestigious assignment," Li Feng acknowledged with appropriate humility that masked whatever concerns he might have harbored.

  "Well deserved," Song Bai's expression softened momentarily, revealing the genuine admiration beneath her typically reserved exterior. "Though I've been assigned the closing moonlight reflection sequence, so don't expect to claim all the acclaim."

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  This represented Song Bai's version of friendly banter—competitive yet ultimately supportive. She turned her attention to Xiaolong with significantly more reserve. "Fellow Daoist Xiaolong, you and your... companion... will travel with the main delegation. Elder Wei suggests positioning near the formation's center to minimize any... unpredictable spiritual influences."

  The diplomatic phrasing thinly veiled the underlying concern—keep the unpredictable foreign cultivator and her chaos-generating fox spirit where they could be contained if necessary. Xiaolong found this simultaneously offensive and entirely reasonable, which created the peculiar emotional paradox she increasingly experienced during her reverse cultivation journey.

  "A sensible arrangement," she agreed with careful neutrality that neither accepted the implied insult nor acknowledged any awareness of it.

  "Very nice of them!" Hui Yun declared, bouncing in place. "Middle spot is best for seeing everything! East council says good watching spots beat fancy titles any day!"

  Song Bai regarded the fox with the particular expression of someone who has encountered an entity speaking a language that used familiar words in completely nonsensical arrangements. "Indeed," she replied with admirable restraint. "How... traditionally considered of them."

  The delegation preparations continued throughout the day, with disciples running to and fro in the elaborate choreography of organized chaos that preceded any major sect function.

  Xiaolong observed Li Feng with increasing concern as he guided junior disciples through formation rehearsals, checked travel supplies, and reviewed diplomatic protocols—all while maintaining the serene exterior expected of an elder disciple despite his clearly deteriorating condition.

  By evening, when most disciples had retired to final meditation before the journey, Xiaolong's draconic senses detected alarming changes in Li Feng's spiritual patterns. The subtle flickering had evolved into irregular pulses, while his normally cool water essence now carried traces of feverish heat—signs she recognized from centuries of observing human cultivators who pushed beyond their natural limits.

  She found him in a secluded courtyard, attempting to meditate beside a small reflection pool. Even in the dim lantern light, she could see the unnatural flush across his face and the minute tremors in his usually steady hands.

  "Li Feng," she said, dropping the usual formal address in her concern, "your condition has deteriorated significantly."

  He opened his eyes with visible effort, the normally clear blue now clouded with spiritual strain. "Temporary cultivation feedback," he insisted, though his voice lacked its usual certainty. "I've experienced similar reactions before when advancing to new techniques."

  The stubborn dedication to advancement despite physical warning signs represented another fascinating aspect of human cultivation that differed fundamentally from draconic approaches.

  Dragons typically advanced through natural accumulation over centuries rather than forced breakthrough methods. The idea of deliberately pushing one's essence to the point of physical distress would be considered incomprehensibly reckless in dragon society.

  "Allow me to examine your meridian circulation," she suggested, carefully framing this as casual assistance rather than the growing concern it actually represented.

  After a moment's hesitation, he nodded consent. Xiaolong placed her fingers lightly on his wrist, using this human diagnostic position as cover for her actual method—directly perceiving his spiritual essence with her draconic senses.

  What she found alarmed her significantly. His cultivation channels showed the distinctive pattern of Resonance Disharmony—a condition where advanced techniques implemented without proper foundation created destructive interference patterns within one's spiritual pathways.

  Left untreated, it could cause permanent cultivation deviation or meridian collapse.

  For a brief, dangerous moment, she considered using her draconic essence to simply repair the damage. It would be trivially easy—a minor application of cosmic energy could reconstruct his entire cultivation foundation to perfect harmony in moments.

  The temptation nearly overwhelmed her carefully maintained human limitations.

  Then she remembered with crystal clarity why such intervention would be catastrophic. Draconic essence operated on fundamentally different principles than human cultivation energy. Introducing it directly into human meridians would be like pouring molten iron into a delicate glass vessel—it might repair the cracks, but it would forever transform the underlying structure into something neither fully human nor properly draconic.

  In the best case, it would create permanent dependency on draconic energy for cultivation advancement. In the worst, it would corrupt his entire cultivation foundation with alien energy his system could never properly integrate.

  No draconic healing could help him without fundamentally changing what he was. And that wasn't healing at all.

  Her internal struggle must have shown on her face, because Li Feng asked with quiet concern, "Is it that serious?"

  Before she could formulate a response that balanced truth with appropriate restraint, an unexpected voice answered from the courtyard entrance.

  "Resonance Disharmony, third stage," declared Ming Lian, his typically playful demeanor replaced by unusual seriousness. "You've been attempting Waterfall Convergence techniques without completing the Nine Cycles Foundation, haven't you?"

  Li Feng's silence confirmed this assessment. Ming Lian sighed with exasperated affection. "Stubborn as mountain stone while preaching water's flexibility—you embody contradiction more faithfully than any philosopher could articulate."

  "The Cloud Summit—" Li Feng began.

  "—will have to proceed without your demonstration if necessary," Ming Lian finished firmly. "Meridian collapse tends to put a permanent damper on cultivation careers, not to mention the minor inconvenience of possible death."

  This blunt assessment hung in the courtyard air with uncomfortable weight.

  Xiaolong felt a strange emotion she eventually identified as helplessness—a sensation almost entirely foreign to draconic experience. As a cosmic dragon, she had never encountered problems she couldn't solve through overwhelming power or patient waiting. This situation offered neither option.

  "He needs proper treatment," she said, struggling to maintain appropriate human concern without revealing the full extent of her knowledge. "This has progressed beyond simple rest recovery."

  "Agreed," said yet another voice as Song Bai emerged from the shadows with surprising stealth. "I've already informed Elder Wei."

  Her presence had clearly been deliberate rather than coincidental, suggesting she had been observing Li Feng with similar concern. The implied care beneath her typically reserved exterior revealed layers to her character that Xiaolong had previously overlooked.

  "The situation is hardly that dire," Li Feng protested, attempting to stand and immediately disproving his own statement as his legs buckled beneath him.

  Ming Lian caught him with startling speed, lowering him gently back to the meditation stone. "Clearly just a minor inconvenience," he commented with pointed sarcasm. "Perhaps next you'll claim that gushing blood is simply 'enthusiastic circulation.'"

  "Fatigue and instability are expected components of advancement," Li Feng insisted with the particular stubbornness of a cultivator who had dedicated their entire existence to relentless improvement. "The Cloud Summit represents critical opportunity for both personal and sect advancement."

  "The Cloud Summit recurs annually," Song Bai observed with unexpected gentleness beneath her typically brisk manner. "Promising disciples who destroy their cultivation foundations through reckless advancement do not."

  As if summoned by the growing tension, Hui Yun bounded into the courtyard with the particular energy of a chaos-loving entity sensing prime opportunity for additional disorder.

  "Meridians all squiggly!" it declared, nose twitching as it sniffed at Li Feng. "Got the classic wobble-flow! West folks wrote a big book about it—seventy-three warning signs including hot-spirit, bumpy-flow, and essence going all topsy-turvy!"

  "Is there any specialized knowledge your eastern tributary council or western meditation conclave doesn't possess?" Xiaolong inquired with strained patience.

  "Lots! North mountain folks know special cushion-arranging secrets! South lake people have fancy—"

  "That was not a sincere inquiry," Xiaolong interrupted before the fox could launch into another elaborate fictional discourse.

  The discussion was cut short by Elder Wei's arrival. The senior cultivator took one look at Li Feng and made an immediate assessment with the swift certainty of centuries of experience.

  "Resonance Disharmony, approaching critical stage," he pronounced, his normally impassive features showing genuine concern. "This requires specialized treatment from Master Jing at the Eastern Retreat."

  "Elder Wei," Li Feng began, clearly preparing to argue his ability to continue with the delegation.

  "This is not a discussion, Disciple Li," Elder Wei cut him off with the particular finality of someone who had been ending debates for longer than most present had been alive. "Your condition requires immediate treatment. Master Jing's retreat lies a day's journey from our path. A small group will escort you there while the main delegation continues to the Summit."

  The elder turned his attention to the gathered disciples, assessing each with calculating efficiency. "Ming Lian, you will accompany Li Feng, along with Junior Disciples Wei Lin and Chen Yun." His gaze settled on Xiaolong with thoughtful consideration. "Fellow Daoist Xiaolong, your... unusual perspective... might prove valuable during treatment. You and your spirit companion will complete the escort party."

  This assignment created mixed feelings in Xiaolong. On one hand, she genuinely wanted to ensure Li Feng's recovery. On the other, Master Jin's specific request for her attendance at the Summit raised concerning questions about potential recognition of her non-human nature.

  "Elder Wei," Song Bai interjected with careful respect, "Master Jin of the Golden Sun Sect specifically requested Fellow Daoist Xiaolong's attendance at the Summit. Her absence might create diplomatic complications."

  "A valid consideration," Elder Wei acknowledged. "However, Master Jin's interest will keep for the next gathering. Li Feng's condition will not."

  The elder's prioritization of a disciple's wellbeing over political advantage struck Xiaolong as another fascinating aspect of human cultivation society. Dragon elders would sacrifice countless subordinates without hesitation if it advanced their cosmic standing even marginally.

  "I accept the assignment," Xiaolong said, finding herself genuinely relieved at the opportunity to remain with Li Feng during his vulnerability. "My unusual... techniques... may indeed prove beneficial during treatment."

  "Fox help too!" Hui Yun declared, bouncing in circles. "South healing folks say watching from different angles helps fix spirit-problems!"

  Elder Wei regarded the fox with the particular expression of someone who has lived long enough to recognize when ignoring commentary represents the path of greatest wisdom. "Prepare for departure at dawn," he instructed. "The main delegation will continue as planned, with Senior Disciple Song assuming Li Feng's demonstration responsibilities."

  This last assignment clearly pleased Song Bai, though her satisfaction was tempered by genuine concern for Li Feng's condition—another example of the complex emotional layering that humans exhibited with such natural ease.

  As the impromptu gathering dispersed, Xiaolong found herself alone with Li Feng, who had finally surrendered to the reality of his condition. His proud posture had given way to the slight slump of someone fighting continual discomfort.

  "I apologize for disrupting your Summit attendance," he said quietly. "Master Jin's interest represented significant opportunity for cultural exchange regarding your tradition's approaches."

  "Water flows where it is needed, not where glory awaits," Xiaolong replied, borrowing one of his own cultivation maxims with gentle irony.

  The smile this elicited lightened his strained features momentarily. "Using my own teachings against me? That seems unjust."

  "Merely demonstrating proper application of wisdom," she countered, finding unexpected comfort in their familiar conversational rhythm despite the concerning circumstances.

  As she helped him back to his quarters to rest before their dawn departure, Xiaolong found herself contemplating the fundamental irony of her current situation. She had embarked on reverse cultivation to experience human limitation firsthand—and now faced precisely that: the helplessness of being unable to solve a problem through sheer power.

  The universe, it seemed, had a particular sense of humor regarding cosmic dragons attempting to become more human.