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Chapter 70: Ch-70: Sect Announcement
The sunlight filtered through thin clouds as morning descended upon the Feilun Sect.
Tian Shen stood at the edge of the alchemy courtyard, his robes fluttering gently in the breeze.
The fragrance of herbs filled the air, pungent yet oddly refreshing, as if the entire sect were breathing through leaves and flowers.
The path before him was not one of swords or bloodshed today, but one of cauldrons and fire essence.
Behind him, Feng Yin adjusted the satchel slung across her shoulder and raised a brow.
"Going to cook pills again? Don’t blow up another furnace."
Tian Shen snorted lightly, "The cauldron was just too weak, not my fault."
Feng Yin clicked her tongue, clearly unconvinced.
"Good luck then, Master Alchemist. I’ll be at the Talisman Hall—my instructor promised to teach me the Thunderweave Script."
Tian Shen watched her saunter off, her slender form weaving through sect disciples. Even now, a few of them spared jealous glances in his direction.
The rumors about him and the talented new talisman maiden were already flying, but Tian Shen couldn’t care less. Let them talk.
He turned and stepped into the alchemy courtyard.
...
The Alchemy Courtyard was a circular complex, its center marked by a towering ancient tree whose roots intertwined with the earth like veins of life.
Cauldrons of all shapes and sizes lined the outer walls. Sect disciples moved from one workstation to another, flames dancing beneath iron bellies, herbs simmering, spiritual mist rising.
Tian Shen found his assigned station. It was modest—just a basic mid-grade cauldron, a stack of wood essence logs, and a cabinet of common spiritual herbs.
But that was fine. He wasn’t here to impress; he was here to practice.
He had reviewed the basics from the sect’s library—especially the Pill Condensation Manual written by the previous sect alchemy elder. Today’s goal was simple: a Qi Recovery Pill.
He began by sorting his ingredients—Clear Spirit Grass, Ironroot Leaf, Jade Stem Flower. Each shimmered faintly with spiritual energy.
He ignited the cauldron, channeling his internal flame qi into a thin strand and adjusting it beneath the vessel.
The herbs went in one by one.
Control. Temperature. Stirring. Patience.
The first batch fizzled halfway through, turning into greenish sludge. Tian Shen didn’t flinch.
He simply dumped the waste and began again. Failures didn’t faze him; they only meant experience.
He smirked slightly, tying his hair back and breathing deeply. Again.
This time, he tweaked the sequence—slightly longer roast time for the Ironroot Leaf, shorter infusion for the Jade Stem. The cauldron hissed, and then a sweet aroma wafted into the air.
A golden light shimmered at the lip of the cauldron.
Pop.
Three round, golden pills bounced gently into the receiving tray.
Tian Shen grinned.
"Not bad."
As he reached for them, a familiar voice cut in.
"Even pills answer to you, huh?"
He turned to find Feng Yin, hands on her hips, her talisman robes smudged with gold ink.
"And I thought I had a good morning," she added, raising an eyebrow.
"How was the weaving?"
He asked.
Feng Yin sighed dramatically.
"Hard. The strokes require insane control. It’s like trying to draw lightning with a feather."
She pulled out a rolled-up talisman from her sleeve and unfurled it.
It glowed faintly. The script shimmered in layers, overlapping like concentric waves.
"Is it done?"
Tian Shen asked, impressed despite himself.
"No," she said bitterly, "but I didn’t burn my hair off this time."
He chuckled.
"Come," she said, nudging him with her elbow. "There’s an open terrace near the Whispering Brook. We can eat. I made something edible this time."
...
The Whispering Brook was calm today, its crystal-clear waters gurgling quietly under the afternoon sun. 𝒏𝒐𝒗𝒑𝒖𝙗.𝒄𝒐𝒎
Birds chirped overhead, and young disciples sparred lightly in the distance, their robes fluttering as swords clashed with dull clangs.
Tian Shen and Feng Yin sat on a wooden platform overlooking the stream. She had brought steamed buns and roasted spirit beast jerky—basic but hearty fare.
"You know," Feng Yin said between bites, "I used to think sect life would be constant fighting and drama. But this... this isn’t bad."
"Peace has its own power," Tian Shen said, biting into a bun. "If we train steadily, grow stronger each day, we’ll be prepared when chaos returns."
She looked at him for a moment, then nodded.
"Mm. That’s surprisingly philosophical. Almost makes me regret calling you a pill-cooking maniac."
"Almost?"
She smirked.
As they ate, Tian Shen’s eyes wandered toward the sparring disciples, watching the ebb and flow of footwork and swordplay. There was a rhythm to it, like breathing.
Life here had a different cadence, but one he was growing to enjoy.
"Tell me something," Feng Yin said, stretching her legs out. "Why alchemy? Not not Talisman making, you are better at it, aren’t you?"
Tian Shen leaned back, arms behind his head.
"Alchemy’s not about memorizing recipes. It’s about understanding energy, adapting to it. It’s like fighting with herbs instead of blades."
"Poetic," she said with a playful glance. "Maybe I should start calling you Herb Tian."
He groaned.
"Please don’t."
Later that evening, Tian Shen returned to the courtyard to collect more experience by watching others work.
The place was nearly empty now, just the bubbling of distant cauldrons and the hum of spiritual energy.
He moved slowly, observing techniques, timing, and pacing. He spotted one girl struggling with temperature control, her cauldron sputtering wildly.
He stepped over casually.
"Too much fire. Let it breathe."
She blinked, startled, but followed his advice. The flames steadied.
"Thanks," she mumbled. "I’m Mei Lian."
"Tian Shen. Good luck."
She gave a small, grateful nod.
Afterward, he stood under the ancient tree, watching the last rays of the sun fade.
Somewhere in the sect, Feng Yin was probably drawing talisman strokes under lantern light.
The quiet warmth of progress, of shared daily life, made Tian Shen’s heart feel oddly... full.
He wasn’t chasing power for revenge or glory.
Right now, he was living—and growing—with people worth protecting.
..
A few days later.
The warm morning light filtered through the clouds, painting the outer peaks of Feilun Sect in hues of gold.
Birds chirped between the high pines, and disciples flowed from dorms to training grounds like ripples of energy—some yawning and stretching, others already practicing stances with rigid intensity.
Within the courtyard of their shared abode, Tian Shen and Feng Yin sat across from each other.
A faint mist of spiritual energy wafted through the air, tinged with the crisp scent of herbs and ink.
Feng Yin wiped the edge of her ink brush and carefully traced the last stroke on a pale-blue talisman paper.
"Whew... finally stabilized this version of the Spirit Repulsion Talisman. Took me nearly a week."
Tian Shen, meanwhile, finished transferring the pill fire from his palm back into a jade bottle. Inside it, a cluster of fragrant red pills shimmered faintly.
"Refining the Meridian Reconciliation Pills went smoother than I thought. It helps that the furnace here doesn’t explode like the one last time."
Feng Yin gave a dry laugh.
"I don’t miss the scent of charred robes. At all."
Just as they relaxed, a commotion broke out down the slope near the outer sect plaza.
The sound of heavy bells echoed thrice through the peaks, followed by a gust of spiritual pressure that made even the trees rustle.
Feng Yin raised a brow.
"That bell..."
Tian Shen stood up, already pocketing the pill bottle and adjusting his robe.
"Announcement from the inner sect. It’s rare they ring it three times. Something important’s about to go down."
The two made their way to the plaza, joining a growing crowd of disciples—outer, inner, and even a few elders perched on flying swords above, observing with folded arms.
A long platform emerged from the center of the courtyard as if summoned by a formation.
Upon it stood a sharp-eyed elder in black and gold robes, Elder Duan, one of the core administrators of Feilun Sect.
With a wave of his sleeve, the air quieted.
"Disciples of Feilun," Elder Duan began, his voice steady and deep.
"It has been three years since the last Sect Competition. Now that the outer turmoil has calmed and the internal peaks have stabilized, the time has come for our disciples to hone themselves through combat, not just seclusion."
A wave of murmurs broke out.
Sect Competition. The grand internal tournament held every few years to determine ranking, talent, and promotion within the sect.
For many, it was the only opportunity to leap from mediocrity to recognition.
Elder Duan continued, "The Sect Competition will be held in three weeks. It will include participants from both the inner and outer sects. The top five from each category will receive spirit stones, personal guidance from elders, and eligibility to enter the Celestial Training Pavilion."
At the mention of the Celestial Training Pavilion, Tian Shen’s eyes narrowed slightly.
That place... It was one of the few areas in the sect that remained sealed under heavy formations.
Rumor said it housed legacies from previous sect masters of the sect. He may even get some clues about his honoured one legacy.
