Seven days passed in a blur.
Inside the wooden shed nestled in the secluded crevices of the mountain forest, Zheng Xie hadn't moved from his lotus position. He sat unmoving, cross-legged, with his back straight and eyes shut. No food. No water. No sleep. Only cultivation.
Within his dantian, the swirling maelstrom of Qi was approaching a state of critical compression. Like a storm coiling tighter and tighter, it circled, condensed, resisted, and surged again. Beads of sweat formed along his brow, rolling slowly down his face, but he didn't move. His body trembled, strained to the limit.
He was attempting the breakthrough.
A third core—a feat many cultivators at the Qi Condensation Realm struggled to achieve even after multiple years.
His face contorted with pain, but he grit his teeth, refusing to let go of his focus.
Time became meaningless. Minutes dissolved into hours. Hours into nothingness.
And then—
Boom.
An invisible pulse reverberated through the shed like a heartbeat of the world itself. A wave of Qi exploded outward before instantly being sucked back in. Inside his dantian, a third core—round, gleaming, and pulsing with vitality—took form beside the other two.
Zheng Xie's body relaxed for the first time in over a week.
He exhaled sharply and opened his eyes, a glimmer of excitement flickering in them. His voice came out raspy, but triumphant.
"Hah... Finally. After a whole year… I've broken through."
He was now at the third layer of the Qi Condensation Realm.
In the grand hierarchy of cultivation, it was a minor step—but not an insignificant one. Each breakthrough brought with it a rise in pure Qi, better meridian flow, stronger senses, and deeper control. For someone on a path as unorthodox and dangerous as his, every inch forward was invaluable.
Something was always better than nothing.
But the growth of his third core was only part of his gains during these seven days of closed cultivation.
Within his Sea of Consciousness, the changes had been even more profound.
His sea of consciousness, once a shallow lake barely capable of holding surface-level thoughtforms, had begun to deepen and stretch outward. The constant influx of fragmented memories, inherited experiences, and Dao insights from the soul he had absorbed gave his mind both depth and resilience.
He rose from his seated position, the joints of his body cracking slightly, but no fatigue lingered. His thoughts were sharp. His senses alive. There was only a lingering hum of joy in his soul.
'My insights into the Dao of Soul have advanced considerably,' he thought.
Before this, he had merely been dabbling at the edges—understanding fragments, chasing glimpses. Now, his comprehension had taken root.
From Novice to Adept.
He could now feel the flow of the Dao. Not wield it. Not yet. But his soul—his true soul, The Thousand Body Soul—was beginning to resonate with it. That alone meant the Dao had acknowledged his pursuit.
'If this pace continues… I might even attain a Soul Dao Mark.'
And that… would change everything.
A Dao Mark wasn't just a recognition—it was a transformation. It would allow his soul techniques to leap in strength. But that was a distant dream still. A dream not yet ready to be touched.
For now… the mountain breeze awaited.
Zheng Xie stepped outside the shed. The wooden door creaked slightly as it swung open. Cool air brushed against his skin, carrying the scent of pine and the sound of rustling leaves. Above, the sky was a canvas of endless blue.
He stood for a while, letting the wind cleanse the lingering Qi from his pores.
Then his gaze fell to the nearby patch of grass—now stained crimson and littered with crushed petals.
That was where Wu Zhu had fallen.
Where Zheng Xie had gouged out his heart and left his mangled corpse amidst the wildflowers.
But now?
There was no corpse.
Not even the heart remained. Only the blood-stained flowers told the tale of what had occurred.
Zheng Xie raised a hand to his lips, struggling to suppress the amused snort threatening to escape. But he failed.
"So, the child of heaven has finally crawled off somewhere to lick his wounds."
He chuckled, voice dry with disdain.
'If I'm right… that idiot's gone running back to Ling Xue. Hmph. Of course he would. He doesn't understand anything about the world except how to stumble into affection.'
He looked back toward the trees, the shadows dancing through the foliage like whispers.
"Maybe it's time I paid her a visit."
But not today.
Today, he had another priority.
It was time to return home.
The Zheng Clan's heir selection was drawing near, and while Zheng Xie had never been one to care for tradition or family politics, this one… mattered.
In the Zheng Clan, there was no scheming behind closed doors. No poison in tea cups. No daggers in the dark. Power spoke for itself.
There were four candidates: Zheng Shuheng, Zheng Baotong, Zheng Yanyue, and himself—Zheng Xie.
Shuheng was the eldest and by far the strongest. Thirty years old and already at the peak of Core Formation Realm, he was the natural choice for the clan's next patriarch. His talent was acknowledged, his accomplishments many, and his reputation as steady as a mountain.
The youngest two, Baotong and Yanyue, had never dared to compete seriously.
They knew better.
Choosing to stand against Shuheng was foolish. Choosing to provoke Xie was suicidal.
Neither were saints.
Shuheng was a juggernaut—unshakable, indomitable.
But Zheng Xie? Zheng Xie was cruel. A twisted soul molded by bitter truths and dark insights. He didn't win battles by overpowering. He won by devouring.
It was common knowledge: between the two older brothers, one would become the heir, and the other would become the shadow in the family's history.
Truthfully, Zheng Shuheng had expected more from Zheng Xie.
Not more strength—no, strength was something he never doubted Xie possessed in terrifying abundance.
But more... schemes. Tricks. Subterfuge.
He had anticipated some kind of hidden plot. Perhaps poison passed through shadows, or allies turned against each other. Maybe even a trap set with his own secrets as bait.
After all, Zheng Xie had never been the kind of man to play fair. Or clean.
Yet, when the matter of the Zheng Family heir was raised, Zheng Xie didn't move. He didn't manipulate. He didn't even speak. He simply stood back and watched the discussions unfold like a bystander with no stakes in the matter.
And when Shuheng finally confronted him in private, his response was immediate—and utterly sincere.
"Brother, my strength is far from enough to shoulder the position of heir.
And truth be told, I've no interest in it.
But if you ever have need of me—my wits, my blade, or my life—I'll be there. Always."
No ceremony. No drama. No resistance.
And just like that, Zheng Shuheng was chosen as the heir.
No blood was spilled. No battle took place. The war everyone had braced themselves for never came.
Instead… something strange happened.
The relationship between Shuheng and Zheng Xie flourished.
They laughed more. Spoke often. Sparred together. When one walked, the other followed. They weren't just brothers—they became true allies, willing to die for each other.
It disturbed the younger siblings greatly.
They didn't know which version of the story to believe—the one where the two were fierce rivals poised to tear each other apart, or the new reality where they looked ready to take on the world side by side.
The unpredictability of Zheng Xie unnerved them most.
That man… was never simple.
…
Seven days after his breakthrough, Zheng Xie finally made his descent from the Serene Flora Mountain.
He didn't hurry. He never did.
The mountain wind still clung to his robes, the scent of lotus and frost lingering faintly as he approached the familiar gates of the Zheng Estate. The guard at the front bloomed a smile upon seeing him and bowed deeply—but Xie offered only a slight nod, striding in without a word.
His boots tapped softly against the stone paths as he moved through the elegant courtyards, where vibrant flower beds bloomed and the gentle hum of spiritual arrays echoed faintly in the wind.
His first stop was the old training yard, hoping to perhaps catch one of his siblings in practice or meditation. But the area was silent. Even the echo of wooden dummies and sparring blades was absent.
So, he turned and made his way to the inner chambers—toward the heart of the home.
There, stillness spilled from the slightly open doors of the dining hall.
He stepped inside.
There they were.
His entire family gathered around the long table: his mother Zheng Mei Xiu, the ethereal beauty known as a fairy across the region, her presence as graceful as moonlight.
His father, Zheng Tianren, loud and broad-shouldered, the clan's patriarch known for his strange mix of wisdom and immaturity.
And of course—his siblings.
Zheng Shuheng, seated tall, expression calm and noble.
Baotong, the second brother, always smiling yet sharp beneath the surface.
And at the end, their youngest sister Zheng Yanyue, nibbling on sweets while pretending to eat healthy.
Zheng Xie didn't speak immediately.
He silently walked behind his parents and wrapped his arms around both of them, hugging them from behind.
His presence, calm and casual, drew a flicker of surprise from everyone—but none stopped eating. The only sign of acknowledgment was the way Shuheng's lip curled faintly in a half-smile.
Then—
"Did you two miss your favorite child?" Xie's voice was unusually cheerful. "Of course you did. No need to say it aloud and sadden my siblings. I understand. I feel your love, truly."
His arms tightened slightly, just enough to draw attention without making it awkward.
His mother let out a soft chuckle.
"Who gave you the confidence to declare yourself the favorite?" she asked, tone half-scolding, half-amused. "What have you done to earn such a title, hmm? Come, enlighten us. I'm curious."
Zheng Tianren burst into laughter before she could finish.
"Honestly, I'd say he is my favorite. His bluntness—hah!—it entertains me to no end."
Fairy Mei Xiu turned to her husband with a sharp gaze and smacked his arm gently.
"Is he a toy to you? Do you pick favorites based on who makes you laugh the most? That's not how you treat children."
Tianren raised both hands in mock surrender. "Fine, fine! My bad, my bad. I won't say it again. But—cough—it is the truth."
Seeing her husband's dramatic reaction, Mei Xiu could only sigh and shake her head, though a smile tugged at the corners of her lips.
Zheng Xie finally let go and took a seat beside Shuheng.
As if on cue, the servants approached and laid out dishes in front of him. Hot soup. Braised lotus root. Sweet lotus buns glazed with honey.
Home.
He glanced sideways at his parents and added with a smirk, "Mother, I'm always the one farthest from you. Obviously, absence makes the heart grow fonder. Father even said it once when he ran off after forgetting your birthday."
Tianren immediately choked on his soup.
His face reddened as he coughed, glaring at Xie with exaggerated betrayal. "You little—! You really have a death wish."
Across the table, Fairy Xiu snickered softly. "Maybe I need some distance from your father too. My love for him is diminishing rather hastily these days."
"Wife! Not in front of the children!" Tianren looked scandalized.
Before the banter could spiral further, Zheng Baotong intervened, raising his teacup.
"Mother. Father. You know how Brother Xie is. He does this on purpose. He thrives in chaos. This is his form of affection."
Zheng Xie raised an eyebrow at that. "You make it sound like I'm some sort of storm."
Baotong chuckled. "Aren't you?"
The entire table laughed then—an unspoken warmth blooming between them, subtle but real.
While scooping another bite of lotus root into his mouth, Zheng Xie rolled his eyes with an exaggerated flair, as though the very act was a performance.
"Don't say it like that, Baotong," he said between chews, tone dripping with casual mischief. "I like fun. You guys were so gloomy just moments ago—look at yourselves now. Cheerful. Lively. Practically glowing. See? Even Yanyue's trying so hard not to smile, she's shaking."
The moment the words left his lips, Zheng Yanyue, who had been keeping her head bowed and lips tightly pressed together, jolted upright as though stung. Her little shoulders tensed. She glared at Xie with puffed cheeks and narrowed eyes, trying desperately to maintain her pride.
"I was not smiling!" she declared, her voice rising a pitch too high to be convincing. "There was something on my leg—I was just checking, alright?!"
Xie blinked at her slowly. "Oh. Of course. Naturally. Definitely believable," he replied, each word dipped in sarcasm.
Yanyue's cheeks flushed. "Your tone doesn't sound like you trust me at all!"
She leaned forward, waving her arms in small, childish frustration.
"I dropped some food on my lap, okay?! I was just making sure it didn't stain my robes!"
Xie gave her a look of mock astonishment, then burst into laughter.
"Now she's making up lies on the spot! Unbelievable! I caught you, didn't I? Not just smiling—you were full-on laughing with your head down!"
He jabbed a finger at her triumphantly, doubling over in laughter like a madman who had uncovered some grand conspiracy.
Even Zheng Shuheng, the ever-composed heir, couldn't help but cover his mouth to suppress a chuckle. But his sense of responsibility kicked in before things spiraled.
"Enough, Xie. We're eating," he said, clearing his throat and gesturing toward Xie's bowl. "Chew before you choke on your nonsense."
Xie only grinned, but he complied. For a time, the teasing died down, and the table returned to the rhythmic clatter of chopsticks, soft chatter, and warm food.
Eventually, once the plates were cleared and the meal finished, the family drifted outside to the outer courtyard to take in the night air. The moonlight washed over the finely polished stone paths and flowering trees, silver and serene. The wind whispered faintly through the trees, carrying the faint perfume of night-blooming herbs.
The whole family walked together—parents in front, children behind, like an oddly chaotic procession of immortals-in-training.
After some idle conversation and remarks about the estate's renovations, Fairy Xiu finally turned to look over her shoulder at Xie.
Her gaze was soft, but curious. "Xie, what good news do you bring that has you so unusually energetic? You're always a spirited child, but tonight... you seem lighter. Different."
Zheng Xie rubbed his nose absently, a small smirk tugging at his lips.
His eyes flicked briefly to his younger siblings, then back to his mother.
"Mother. Father. You already know I entered the third layer of the Qi Foundation Realm—though that alone wouldn't warrant such joy. No, no. That's not the reason I'm glowing."
He placed his hands behind his back and began pacing with slow, deliberate steps, his voice dipping into that theatrical tone he used when he wanted to be extra irritating.
"The real reason…"
He paused.
He looked up at the moon. His lips parted.
Then he smiled mischievously.
"…is a secret."
A collective groan swept through the courtyard.
Even Shuheng let out an audible sigh.
"You truly have the personality of a demon," Baotong muttered, not unkindly.
Zheng Yanyue marched up to him and jabbed her finger hard into his ribs. "Brother, that's so mean! At least don't make us anticipate something and then just—just withhold it like that! You're terrible!"
Xie looked down at her with a smug smile. "Of course I am. That's what siblings are for, right? To irritate each other to the brink of madness?"
From ahead, their father Zheng Tianren scoffed. "Keep in mind, you're not just with your siblings right now—you're with your parents too. And filial children share their joys. Now speak. Or I'll have someone drag it out of you."
Zheng Xie tilted his head, mock innocence playing on his face.
"How exactly does being filial require me to reveal my secrets, hmm? Isn't that blatant manipulation? Admit it—you're just mad because I told Mother the truth about you running away on her birthday."
Tianren choked on his breath. "You ungrateful brat…"
He turned away with an overly dramatic flair. "Fine. Think what you want. But I won't accept a 'no.' Out with it, child!"
Fairy Xiu, ever the gentle wind to Tianren's thunder, smiled calmly. "Don't mind your father, Xie. He's just upset that his childish side still hasn't matured. If you don't wish to say it, don't."
Zheng Xie let out a genuine laugh this time, one hand lifting to cover his mouth.
"Thank you, Mother. But it's not that I don't want to say it. I just wanted to build the suspense. And besides—it's not exactly a secret… It's related to something Father asked me to investigate some time ago."
That got everyone's attention.
His father immediately stopped walking. His eyes glinted like a hawk spotting prey. "Wait… you don't mean…"
"—Yes." Zheng Xie's crooked smile widened. "It's about the Calm Pill Pavilion."
Tianren's face tightened in an instant. "Don't play games now. Did you find something? A weakness?"
Zheng Xie paused, then turned to fully face the group.
"I did. Or rather... I found someone who is the weakness."
He didn't elaborate.
But from the way his smile twisted, from the gleam of cunning that sparkled in his eyes—it was clear that the Calm Pill Pavilion had just become a house built on glass.
And Zheng Xie had picked up the first stone.