As the week drew to a close, an ornate invitation arrived from the city lord's manor: a grand reconciliation feast, inviting all major clans to "heal divisions and usher prosperity." Neutral ground, lavish preparations promised—music, rare wines, martial displays.
Lin Zhantian studied the scroll. "The city lord mediates to maintain balance. But with Wang involvement..."
"It's an opportunity," Lin Chen said. "Show unity, deter further schemes."
Su Qingyao added, "And observe. If Wang Teng attends, his actions will reveal intent."
Decision made: attend in force, but cautiously.
Preparations filled the day. Attire selected—Lin Chen in deep blue robes embroidered with subtle dragon motifs, Su Qingyao in flowing silver-white, frost patterns shimmering. Gifts prepared: fine spirit tea, talismans. Escorting disciples chosen for experience.
The city lord's manor was opulent—gardens lit by glowing stones, halls vast with silk banners. Dozens of guests mingled: minor heads, merchants, wandering cultivators. City lord greeted warmly at entrance.
"Patriarch Lin! Young Master! Miss Su! Your presence brings honor."
Wang party arrived shortly after—Patriarch composed, Wang Teng bandaged subtly, eyes averted but burning.
Seating arranged neutrally—Lin and Wang opposite, city lord central.
Feast began: delicacies served, wine poured. Music from guqin and flute filled air. Toasts to "harmony," "prosperity."
Performances followed—disciples from various clans demonstrating forms in central arena. Polite applause.
During a lull, Wang Patriarch rose. "Past conflicts arose from youth's rashness. My son overstepped; Young Master Lin defended justly. Let grudges end here."
Wang Teng stood stiffly. "Indeed. No lingering enmity."
Words polite, but tension lingered. Eyes on Su Qingyao—her beauty drawing whispers.
City lord smiled. "Excellent! To new beginnings!"
As evening deepened, guests mingled. Wang Teng approached under friendly guise, cup in hand. "Young Master Lin, a toast? For closure."
Lin Chen accepted neutrally. "Closure benefits all."
But Wang Teng leaned closer to Su Qingyao. "Miss Su, the earlier... misunderstandings. Perhaps a private word on cultivation? Wang library holds ancient ice scrolls—"
She cut coolly. "My path aligns with Lin Chen's. Thank you."
Wang Teng's smile strained. "Stubbornness limits potential. A sacred body like yours deserves—"
Lin Chen's voice low but firm. "Enough. Her choice is made."
Nearby guests noticed, murmurs rising.
Wang Patriarch intervened swiftly. "My son speaks from admiration. No offense."
But later, in a side garden, Wang Teng cornered a young Lin disciple alone—subtle bribes offered, threats veiled.
The disciple escaped, reporting immediately.
Lin Chen confronted in a quiet alcove. Dragon pressure faint but pinning. "Your games weary me."
Wang Teng paled. "You think fear stops us? Father has—"
"Nothing left," Lin Chen finished. "Your raids failed, schemes exposed. Push further, lose everything."
Released, Wang Teng fled to his father.
Whispers reached city lord. He mediated privately—warning both sides.
No outbreak. Feast continued politely.
On return, Lin scouts confirmed: Wang internal chaos—retainers deserting, assets shifted defensively. Wang Teng isolated in rage; Patriarch suing for true peace.
Next day, formal missive: Wang ceded mining rights, pledged non-aggression, withdrew claims on Su Qingyao.
Conflict dissolved—not in blood, but submission.
Lin family celebrated quietly—feast with disciples, toasts to endurance.
Lin Zhantian addressed all. "We've weathered storms through unity. Now, eyes forward—Tianxuan awaits."
Preparations intensified: selecting traveling party (ten promising disciples, elders for escort), packing artifacts.
Evenings sweeter. Under plum tree, Su Qingyao and Lin Chen planned.
"Sect trials will test us," she said.
He held her. "We'll pass—together."
Kisses deepened; bond unbreakable.
The final week in Qingyun City passed in a whirlwind of preparations and bittersweet farewells. The Lin estate, once shadowed by years of decline, now thrummed with life and anticipation. Servants bustled with packing—spatial rings filled with spirit stones, medicinal pills, talismans, and scrolls of family techniques. Carriages were reinforced with defensive arrays, spirit horses groomed and fed essence grains for the long journey. Disciples selected for the trip trained with extra fervor, their eyes bright with dreams of the wider world.
Lin Chen oversaw much of it personally, his presence a steady anchor. Mornings began with group meditation in the main courtyard, where he guided the traveling party—Su Qingyao, five promising disciples (Lin Feng, Lin Xue, and three others at Postnatal peak), and two elders—in harmonizing their qi. "The road will test endurance," he said, voice calm as golden dragon traces faintly shimmered around him. "Build foundations now—breath steady, mind clear."
Lin Feng, sweat beading on his brow during circulation, grinned through the effort. "Young Master, with your guidance, I'll breakthrough to Innate before we arrive!"
Lin Xue, practicing a sword form nearby, added breathlessly, "And I'll master the frost sword Big Sister taught me!"
Su Qingyao smiled encouragingly, her ice qi weaving gentle patterns to aid their focus. "One step at a time. The sect values persistence over flash."
Afternoons shifted to practical lessons. Lin Chen demonstrated travel survival: identifying spirit beasts by tracks, foraging safe herbs, setting concealed camps. Elders shared maps of the route—through forested hills, past trade towns, avoiding known bandit lairs. "Tianxuan Sect controls a vast territory," one elder explained over a spread parchment. "Outer mountains like an academy for broad teaching—thousands of disciples in structured classes, trials for resources. Inner sect more traditional—master-apprentice bonds, secret transmissions."
Lin Chen nodded thoughtfully. "Academy-style outer for volume, sect-style inner for elites. We'll start outer, rise quickly."
Su Qingyao traced the map with a finger. "I've read scrolls—outer sect has lecture halls, mission pavilions, even competitive arenas like schools. Points earned for pills, techniques."
Excitement rippled among disciples. Lin Feng's eyes widened. "Like a grand academy? With classes on alchemy, formations?"
"Exactly," the elder confirmed. "Tianxuan blends both worlds—academy efficiency for masses, sect depth for geniuses."
Evenings brought emotional gatherings. Family feasts stretched long: spirit wine flowing, dishes piled high—roasted phoenix chicken, essence-infused vegetables, desserts from rare fruits. Stories flowed too—elders recounting Lin ancestors' sect glories, patriarch toasting the travelers.
Lin Zhantian raised his cup one night, voice thick. "Chen'er, Qingyao—bring honor, but return safe. The family holds here because of you."
Tears glistened in many eyes. Cousins hugged disciples; children begged for sect souvenirs.
Lin Chen and Su Qingyao slipped away often for private moments. Under the old plum tree, now bare in late autumn, they sat wrapped in a shared cloak.
"It's strange," she murmured, head on his shoulder. "Leaving home for the unknown. Excited, but... this tree, these gardens—they're part of us."
He stroked her hair. "We'll carry memories. And make new ones—at lecture halls, mission fields, perhaps a quiet peak for dual cultivation."
She blushed faintly. "The sect has couple pavilions for bonded disciples, scrolls say."
He laughed softly. "Then we'll claim one."
Kisses followed—tender, lingering, qi intertwining warmer each time. Her Mid-Innate consolidation, his Late peak edge—progress mutual.
A small ceremony marked the night before departure: family altar offerings for safe travel. Lin Chen knelt with Su Qingyao, incense smoke curling. "Ancestors watch over us," he whispered.
Dawn arrived crisp, sky pale blue. Gates open, carriages ready. Entire family assembled—hundreds now with retainers.
Lin Zhantian embraced Lin Chen tightly. "My son... dragon among men."
"Guard home well, Father. We'll return stronger."
Su Qingyao hugged cousins tearfully. Lin Xue clung longest. "Big Sister, become a core disciple! I'll train hard here!"
Waves, cheers, banners waving as carriages rolled out.
City streets lined with onlookers—respectful bows, whispers of luck. Gates passed; open road stretched.
First day peaceful—hills rolling, air fresher. Camp evening: fires crackling, stories shared.
Lin Feng asked eagerly, "Young Master, tell us about Tianxuan! Is the outer sect really like a vast academy?"
Lin Chen nodded. "From scrolls—thousands in outer, classes on pills, arrays, beasts. Points system like school merits—missions earn them for resources. Inner sect smaller, masters choose apprentices personally."
Su Qingyao added, "Blends academy scale with sect heritage. Perfect for us."
Disciples buzzed with dreams.
Night watch rotated; Lin Chen and Su Qingyao shared a tent, qi dual practice under stars.
Journey's promise filled hearts.
Qingyun faded; Tianxuan called.
The journey's second week brought varied landscapes—dense forests giving way to open plains, spirit qi thickening noticeably. Carriages rolled steadily, spirit horses tireless. Group routine solidified: dawn cultivation, midday travel, evening camp lessons.
Lin Chen led advanced sessions—sparring with disciples, correcting flaws. "Anticipate, don't react," he advised Lin Feng during a palm exchange, redirecting force effortlessly.
Breakthroughs came: Lin Xue reached Mid-Postnatal, ice qi purer from Su Qingyao's tips.
"Big Sister, your guidance—it's like having a personal master!" she beamed.
Su Qingyao smiled. "We'll have real masters soon. But bonds like ours matter more."
Trade towns dotted the route—stops for supplies, news. One bustling market town, rumors swirled of Tianxuan recruitment: geniuses converging, sacred bodies spotted, even a phoenix bloodline girl from south.
"A mix of academy and sect draws all types," a merchant shared over tea. "Outer like grand school—lectures, dorms, point rankings. Inner traditional—peaks for lineages, master-disciple oaths."
Lin Chen listened intently. "Competition fierce?"
"Deadly in outer—trials for promotion. But fair—merit over background."
Excitement grew. Disciples practiced harder.
A minor bandit ambush tested them mid-week—ten Postnatal raiders eyeing carriages.
Elders handled most; disciples gained experience. Lin Chen disabled leader with one strike—mercy shown, warning given.
"Strength deters," he told the group later. "But compassion builds karma."
Su Qingyao bandaged a scratch on Lin Feng. "You fought well."
Boy blushed. "For the family!"
Nights deepened intimacy. Shared tent: talks of sect life—imagining classes, missions, perhaps joint trials.
"I'll protect you in arenas," Lin Chen teased.
She poked him. "I'll freeze enemies first."
Laughter, then kisses—qi merging, cultivation leaping. Her Late Innate approach; his peak solid.
Town inn stop brought local young master interest in Su Qingyao—gifts, invitations.
Declined firmly; he backed off at Lin Chen's aura.
"Jealousy follows beauty," she sighed later.
"And strength ends it," he replied, holding her.
Plains turned mountainous—spirit qi rich, beasts occasional.
One evening camp near a lake, group fished with qi lines. Stories flowed: elders on past sect visits, "Academy outer has libraries vast as palaces, sect inner hidden grottos with ancient inheritances."
Lin Feng dreamed aloud. "I'll earn points for dragon manuals!"
Lin Chen smiled. "We'll all rise."
Su Qingyao leaned on him by fire. "From small city to this... thank you for bringing us."
He kissed her temple. "Thank you for staying."
Stars wheeled; journey bonded them closer.
Far ahead, the Tianxuan Mountains rose against the sky.