Night fell over Broomstick Peak like a slow curtain drawn across a forgotten stage. The spirit tree pulsed gently, its soft green glow keeping the shadows at bay. Crickets chirped, fireflies danced, and somewhere in the dark, Lin Xun was boiling a potato in a cracked pot over an uneven flame.
"Senior Brother," Li Yao asked, "is this really dinner?"
Lin Xun stirred the pot solemnly. "It's a sacred potato. Cultivated with qi-infused manure and watered with regret. Every bite is a spiritual lesson."
Wei Qing, sitting nearby with his broken sword beside him, raised an eyebrow. "What's the lesson?"
"Don't trust a man who claims to be a sect master but can't cook rice," Lin Xun muttered.
---
🍲 The Sect of Strange Dinners
Dinner, if it could be called that, was modest: one small potato split into three. Lin Xun made a show of presenting each piece with exaggerated ceremony, complete with poetic nonsense:
"To Li Yao, the one who swept demons and stole my fish."
"To Wei Qing, wielder of a legendary toothbrush—I mean, sword."
"To myself, bearer of divine indigestion."
The disciples couldn't help but laugh, even if their stomachs groaned in protest.
Yet beneath the jokes, something had changed. The atmosphere wasn't just light-hearted—it was bonded. Even if their sect boundary was barely wider than a small house, even if their meals were tasteless and their robes still smelled of fish oil, they were a family now.
---
💤 Night Whispers
Later that night, Li Yao couldn't sleep. Her dream from the night before still haunted her. She sat outside, legs pulled to her chest, staring at the spirit tree.
Wei Qing emerged quietly and sat beside her. He didn't say anything for a while.
"You saw something," he finally said.
She looked at him, surprised. "How'd you know?"
"I've seen people who dream like that. My mother used to say there are two kinds of cultivators—those who chase power, and those who are chased by it."
Li Yao hesitated. "Which are we?"
Wei Qing's answer was soft. "I think we're the third kind. The ones who stumble into power, trip over it, and land face-first into trouble."
She laughed, despite herself.
He offered her a roasted grasshopper.
"…What is that?"
"Emergency rations. Got a jar full under my bed."
She accepted it and took a cautious bite. "Crunchy."
"Terrifying," he corrected. "Like Lin Xun's cooking, but alive."
---
🌀 The System Awakens
Lin Xun, meanwhile, lay flat on his back in his bamboo hut. He stared at the ceiling, half-expecting it to collapse. Suddenly, a familiar ping rang in his mind.
> 🔔 [System Update Complete] 🎉 [Congratulations! You have 3 disciples. Sect has entered Tier 1.] 🏡 [Unlocked: Minor Peak Formation]
"Huh?" Lin Xun sat up. "Minor Peak Formation?"
> 📜 [You may now assign disciples to personal peaks. Each peak allows the disciple to cultivate independently and generates additional spirit qi within the sect.]
A small map appeared in his mind, showing Broomstick Peak at the center. To the east and west, two miniature peaks flickered into view—potential disciples' quarters.
"Oh… oh this is good."
He rushed out of his hut, waking both disciples in the process.
"Everyone up! We're building mountains!"
"…Is he having a stroke?" Li Yao asked, rubbing her eyes.
"I hope not. I'm just starting to understand his humor," Wei Qing yawned.
---
🏔 The Peaks Begin
The next morning, Lin Xun gathered his disciples in front of the spirit tree.
"We're splitting the sect into peaks," he announced, drawing lines in the dirt with a stick.
"This," he said, pointing at a bump in the soil, "will be Wind-Swept Peak. Li Yao, it's yours."
"…It's literally just a bump."
"Visualize harder."
"And this," he drew another circle, "is Frostblade Peak. Wei Qing's."
Wei Qing looked at his patch of dirt and bowed. "I will honor its legacy."
Li Yao stared at him. "You're serious?"
"He bowed to a broom, Yao," Lin Xun reminded her.
Each disciple received a tent, a meditation mat, and a name plaque carved by Lin Xun himself (which looked suspiciously like he used a fish bone to scratch it into bamboo). They began clearing their own areas, setting up small zones of cultivation.
---
📚 Seeds of Growth
Within days, changes took root.
Li Yao's Wind-Swept Peak seemed to call the breeze. Her movements became more fluid, her spiritual energy aligning with the wind naturally. Even her voice softened, now less bark and more song.
Wei Qing, meanwhile, sat for hours beside his broken sword. On the third day, a line of frost appeared on the blade. He smiled for the first time.
Lin Xun, despite still living in a hut patched with seaweed, was pleased.
Yet even as the sect grew stronger, his thoughts kept circling one thing.
Li Yao's dream.
The golden staircase.
And a message he'd received from the system just before dawn.
> 🔍 [Warning: Spiritual Signature Detected Outside the Barrier] 👁 [Origin Unknown. Watching.]
Someone—or something—was paying attention.
---
🧓 The Stranger on the Ridge
That evening, Lin Xun left a talisman at each disciple's tent.
"If it glows red, hide. If it glows green, come find me. If it glows blue, run screaming."
"Blue?" Li Yao asked.
"That's the 'we're all going to die' color."
At midnight, the tree pulsed once more. This time, it wasn't calm—it flickered, panicked. Lin Xun stood beneath it, watching the ridge across the valley.
There, in the moonlight, stood an old man.
He had no eyes.
And yet he smiled.
Lin Xun stepped forward, but the moment he crossed the boundary of his sect—the edge of his domain—his body weakened. Muscles trembled. Breath grew shallow.
The old man took a step forward.
"Not yet," the man whispered.
Lin Xun's talisman glowed blue.
He ran.
---
End of chapter 5
--to be continued