Chapter 8: Rising Slowly
The path from the martial arena was narrow and winding, with old pine trees on both sides.
Mo Yuan walked forward at a steady pace. The pouch of spirit stones at his waist clinked softly with each step.
"Mo Yuan! Wait!"
Mo Yuan stopped and turned. Lin Xia ran toward him, her cheeks red and her eyes bright with shock and joy. She stopped before him, bent over slightly, and placed her hands on her knees as she caught her breath.
"You… you really did it," she said between breaths, looking at him as if seeing him anew.
"I was so afraid. When you stepped into the arena, I thought your cultivation would be crippled."
She paused, eyes fixed on him.
"But that palm strike… Mo Yuan, how did you do it?"
Mo Yuan gave a small, calm smile.
"This is one reason I took so long to break through," he said.
"I was making sure every step was steady, that my foundation was stable and complete before moving forward."
Lin Xia's eyes widened. "You… you defeated a peak Stage Four… with just a Basic Azure Mist Palm?"
She stepped closer, voice dropping. "Did… did you find some secret treasure on the North Cliff?"
She leaned closer and lowered her voice.
"Did you? Did you obtain an inheritance there?"
Mo Yuan smiled faintly and shook his head.
"There was no inheritance, and no ancient treasure," he said calmly. "I only followed the proper path. When the roots are deep, the tree grows tall on its own."
Lin Xia's hands trembled slightly as she shook her head. "Even so… to reach that level through effort alone… most would give up long before." A small, awed smile broke across her face.
"Mo Yuan… you truly are extraordinary."
Mo Yuan's lips curved into a gentle smile.
"Thank you, Lin Xia," he said quietly.
Lin Xia's expression shifted, her tone growing serious.
"Either way, you're the talk of the Outer Sect now," she said, her eyes sharp.
"Be careful, Mo Yuan. Wang Wei was a bully, but he had friends. And the Top Five outer sect disciples… they never like it when someone upsets the balance."
"I'll keep that in mind," Mo Yuan said, bowing slightly."Focus on consolidating your rank, Lin Xia. Don't let your heart waver because of what you saw today."
She nodded eagerly, her face lighting up.
"I won't! I'm heading straight to the meditation halls. See you at the next lecture!"
As she hurried off, Mo Yuan watched her for a moment before turning back toward the North Cliff.
But he had barely taken a dozen steps when a cold, commanding voice echoed from the shadows of a nearby pavilion.
"Mo Yuan. can we have a word?"
Steward Gao came out of the pavilion's shadow, hands tucked in his wide sleeves. His face was expressionless, like stone, but his eyes were sharp, studying Mo Yuan as if weighing him down.
"Steward Gao," Mo Yuan said, bowing slightly.
"Follow me," Steward Gao commanded, turning and walking toward a private administrative hall without waiting for a response.
They entered a small, simple room, filled with the scent of sandalwood and old paper. Gao sat behind a heavy desk and motioned for Mo Yuan to stand before him.
For a long moment, neither spoke. The steward's eyes studied Mo Yuan closely, sharp and heavy with judgment.
Steward Gao's eyes narrowed. "The testing stone has cracked."
Mo Yuan said nothing, letting the silence stretch.
"It was forged for a peak Qi-Refinement cultivator," Steward Gao continued. "And yet… it broke under your hand."
Mo Yuan stood silent, unshaken under the steward's sharp gaze.
"About six months of stagnation," Steward Gao said slowly. "Then, in just one week, you rise to Second Stage, yet your strength seems to be stronger than that of a foruth-stage qi refinement cultivator. Some elders call it a late bloomer."
He leaned forward, eyes sharp as a blade. "I have seen countless disciples pass through these gates. None reach such depth through patience alone. Who has guided you on this path?"
Mo Yuan's eyes were calm, yet an unspoken depth shimmered beneath their surface.
"I have no master," he said softly, voice steady as mountain air. "But after reading the adventures of those who came before, I made my choice."
Mo Yuan's calm eyes didn't waver. "I will cultivate steadily, letting my roots grow deep before reaching for the heights."
The Steward's gaze sharpened, a trace of surprise hidden beneath his calm exterior. Few disciples ever spoke with such patience and resolve, untouched by the rush for power.
"The Sect Leader values swift progress and effortless grace," he said, voice steady yet carrying weight. "You, however, walk a path of patience and depth. It is rare in the Azure Mist."
Slowly, he reached into his desk and placed a small, black iron token before Mo Yuan.
"This grants you access to the first floor of the Hidden Pavilion. Your cultivation may be stable and your foundation strong, but mastering only basic palm techniques will not be enough. You must learn a proper offensive and defensive technique something that will aid you in the upcoming competitions."
Steward Gao stood up, his gaze softening slightly. "Go. But remember, no matter how solid your foundation, the higher you aim, the fiercer the challenges. The Inner Sect trials are in three months.
If you cannot reach the Fifth Stage by then, you will have no choice but to wait until next year to be promoted to an Inner Disciple."
Mo Yuan bowed slightly, his expression calm.
"Understood. I am grateful for this token and your guidance. I will make full use of it, cultivate steadily, and lay my foundation true, so that when the time comes, I may face the trials without regret."
As Mo Yuan stepped out of the hall and onto the winding mountain path, the cold weight of the iron token pressed against his palm. Around him, the world seemed to quicken, moving faster than he had expected.
His gaze shifted northward, toward the cliff where dark clouds were gathering, heralding an approaching storm.
'Three months…' Mo Yuan closed his fingers around the iron token.
The Fifth Stage was within reach but what really mattered was perfecting his foundation before stepping into it.