The weeks after the Glacial Lotus Trial were like a storm of fortune for the Moon Lotus Sect.
Delegates from rival sects who once sneered at their "all-female rules" now came bearing gifts and flattering smiles. Courtyards that had once been quiet now bustled with visitors, their banners fluttering awkwardly as they begged for "mutual cooperation."
"The Flame Dragon Sect wishes to exchange manuals."
"The Ironwood Sect sends tribute in spirit stones."
"Even the Snow Shadow Sect… has sent envoys."
Disciples, once shy and modest, now walked with their backs straight and heads held high, whispering gleefully:
"Did you see their faces? They used to mock us—now they bow."
"Senior Haotian's name alone silences them!"
"I heard the Flame Dragon genius nearly choked when Master Yinxue rejected his 'alliance proposal.'"
Haotian himself remained quiet in his sanctuary, refining pills as always. But even there, lines of disciples formed daily outside his courtyard—some to learn, some to gossip, some simply to sigh dreamily in his presence.
Ziyue only smiled slyly when she saw the chaos. "Fame was inevitable, boy. Even if you hate it."
Far away, the Cold River Sect's council chamber was heavy with silence.
Elders sat grim-faced, their knuckles white against the armrests of their chairs. The Glacial Lotus Trial replayed in their minds: Haotian's spear scattering disciples, his dao crushing Nascent elders, his pills fueling the Moon Lotus Sect's rise.
Shame burned like fire.
"Do you see?!" one elder shouted. "That boy should have been ours! Instead, we are the laughingstock of the entire region!"
"Not just that—we sent assassins after him, and he still lives. Now he thrives. Every sect knows."
"If his fame grows further, Cold River Sect will be eclipsed!"
The council devolved into bickering, voices sharp with desperation.
But Elder Bai, sitting at the far end, let out a long, scornful laugh.
"You pathetic fools," he sneered. "You sowed the seeds of your own humiliation. You called him demon, you mocked him, you sent assassins—and now you dare to complain? Haotian's dao is steady as a mountain. While you squabbled, he surpassed all of you."
The chamber went silent, his words cutting deeper than any blade.
The Sect Master finally spoke, his tone cold. "Enough. Not one of you will make another move against him. Do you not realize?" His voice dropped, heavy with warning. "Sect Master Yinxue of the Moon Lotus Sect has broken through to the Soul Transformation Realm. She is no longer beneath me. If you strike at Haotian again, you will not face only him—you will face her."
The elders stiffened, fear flickering in their eyes. Soul Transformation—power enough to shatter mountains, to change the fate of sects.
Elder Bai leaned back, his smile faint and mocking.
"Yes. Continue plotting, if you wish. But know this: every scheme you weave will only tighten the noose around your own necks. The heavens already chose him. And you—" his gaze swept the chamber with contempt, "—you chose to throw him away."
The Moon Lotus Sect was no longer the quiet sect it once was. Courtyards rang with laughter, the clang of weapons, and… the endless chant of a single name.
"Senior Haotian! Lead us to glory in the next competition!""Senior Haotian, if you are there, the heavens themselves cannot stop us!""Senior Haotian, correct my sword art first! No, correct my movement technique!"
Disciples, emboldened by their breakthroughs in the Frozen Vein Spring, had begun training with fiery zeal. But everywhere their training ended with the same chorus: calls for Haotian to lead.
Even the outer sect disciples had started carving wooden tokens with his likeness—an embarrassing phenomenon that spread through the sect like wildfire.
Haotian, meanwhile, sat in his courtyard, refining quietly, as if none of this chaos existed.
Late that evening, Elder Ziyue herself stepped into his courtyard. Her violet robes swayed lightly in the lantern glow, her eyes narrowed in their usual sly amusement.
"You know, Haotian," she said softly, "the entire sect is in an uproar. They want you to lead them in the next great competition. I daresay even our Sect Master is tempted."
Haotian glanced up, his expression calm as ever. "Competitions are noisy. But if the sect wills it, I will comply."
Ziyue chuckled, stepping closer. "You speak as if the world is a nuisance. Yet the world cannot stop speaking about you."
She leaned in slightly, her voice taking on a faintly teasing, almost seductive tone. "I must admit… I, too, find myself impressed. Talent like yours… it shines. And light draws moths."
Haotian met her gaze, his expression unchanged, like still water.
Ziyue paused, tilting her head with sudden curiosity. "Or perhaps… you remain so unshaken because you are already bound."
Her eyes glinted slyly. "Tell me, Haotian—do you already have a lover? A wife? A family you've left behind?"
For the first time, Haotian's hand paused mid-motion over the cauldron. He was silent for a moment, then exhaled softly.
"…No." His voice was calm, but carried a faint weight. "I have only the dao before me. The cauldron. The spear. No distractions."
Ziyue studied him closely. She had expected denial, even irritation. Instead, what she saw was not repression, but true serenity—a man with no cracks to exploit.
And to her own surprise, instead of frustration, she felt… a faint pang. A warmth curling in her chest that she quickly smothered beneath a sly smile.
"I see…" she murmured, straightening. "Then perhaps that is why you shine brighter than the rest. No chains to hold you."
She turned to leave, her expression unreadable in the lantern light.
But as she walked away, one thought whispered in her heart:
Or perhaps, one day, I will be the one to bind you.
The lanterns had long burned low when Haotian finally returned to his quarters. The clamor of disciples and Ziyue's probing words faded behind closed doors, leaving only silence and the faint hum of the night wind.
He sat cross-legged, the Fenglong Spear resting against the wall, and stared into the stillness.
Outwardly, he was the same—calm, unshaken, unreachable.
But inside, his heart wavered.
Lianhua… my child…
His hand curled slowly into a fist. The image of her smile, of a child's small fingers, haunted him. He had buried it deep beneath cultivation and discipline, but the memory was not gone. It never would be.
"I must recover," he whispered. "I must return. No matter the storms here, I will cross them all to see you again."
He swallowed a Recovery Pill and a Meridians Nourishing Pill, feeling their warmth spread through his battered channels. Then, closing his eyes, he began to circulate the Heaven Sundering Trinity Scripture.
At once, agony struck.
His body convulsed as icy qi tore through blocked pathways, the half-shattered circuits of his second meridian threatening to collapse entirely. It was a pain beyond blades and flames—a searing, twisting torment that hollowed the marrow and crushed the heart.
Sweat poured down his face. His jaw clenched until blood welled between his teeth.
More than once, he nearly collapsed.
Give up, the pain whispered. Stop before it breaks you completely.
But in the abyss of torment, two images shone:
Lianhua, her gentle eyes watching him with unyielding faith.A child's laughter, bright as spring wind.
Haotian's breath steadied, even as his body trembled violently.
"For them…" His voice rasped like gravel. "…for them, I will not yield."
Hours passed. Hours that felt like centuries.
The scripture tore through his veins, forcing open channels that had been dormant since his last injury. Each surge of qi was a blade cutting through bone. Each circulation was death and rebirth.
Then—at last—his heart core flared.
A dull flicker at first, then a steady glow, pulsing like a second heartbeat in his chest. The broken flow stabilized, the shattered paths knitting themselves under the relentless pressure of his will.
Boom—!
His aura steadied, frost qi resonating with a faint golden light. The second meridian revived, and his heart core shone steadily once more.
Haotian gasped, his chest heaving, every muscle drenched in sweat. Relief swept through him like a tide.
"…Stable… finally stable…"
But the toll was heavy. His vision blurred, darkness clawing at the edge of his sight.
He swayed once, then collapsed backward onto the floor.
The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the faint glimmer of his heart core, pulsing like a promise.
Wait for me, Lianhua. Wait for me, my child. I will return.
Haotian lay unconscious, his breathing shallow, his body slick with sweat from the strain of forcing open his second meridian.
Elder Ziyue rushed into his quarters, followed by several alarmed disciples.
"Quickly! Move him to the bed!"
They obeyed, carefully lifting him and laying his limp form upon the sheets. His robe clung damply to his body, each breath labored and uneven.
Ziyue's eyes narrowed. "The robe will only hinder the flow of my qi."
Without hesitation, she tore the garment open, stripping it away in one swift motion.
The room froze.
The disciples' eyes went wide, their faces turning crimson all at once. A collective gasp escaped like steam from an overheated kettle.
"KYAAH—!""E–Elder Ziyue, you—you undressed him!!""B–blessed heavens, Senior Haotian's body—""Like carved jade… muscles, perfectly balanced…!"
One disciple actually swayed, clutching her chest. "I… I think I'm going to faint…"
Ziyue's own cheeks burned, but she forced herself to remain calm, pressing her palm firmly to Haotian's chest to send her qi into him. "Quiet, all of you! His meridians are unstable—if I don't act now, he could die!"
But the disciples' whispers didn't stop.
"She's touching him!""Not just touching—look at how long her hand is lingering!""No… no wonder Elder Ziyue came running first!"
At that exact moment, the door slammed open.
"Ziyue, what is—"
Sect Master Yinxue stepped in, Lan Yin Shuyue right behind her.
The sight before them stopped both in their tracks.
On the bed: Haotian, topless, unconscious, muscles gleaming in the lamplight.Beside him: Ziyue, flustered but stubbornly pressing her palm against his chest.All around: disciples red as cherries, clutching their faces and whispering furiously.
Shuyue nearly squeaked herself hoarse. "S–Senior Haotian?! E–Elder Ziyue?! What… what is this?!"
Sect Master Yinxue's lips twitched, her face struggling between composure and disbelief. She coughed sharply. "…Elder Ziyue. Explain. Immediately."
Ziyue opened her mouth, but no words came out. The disciples, however, exploded at once.
"She stripped him as soon as we put him down!""And then she touched his chest!""And then—"
The noise filled the room until the Sect Master's frosty glare silenced them all.
But by the next morning, silence was impossible.
"Senior Haotian was undressed by Elder Ziyue herself!""The Sect Master and Shuyue both saw everything!""No, no—you're wrong. The disciples all stayed in the room. They all saw everything too!"
The sect was chaos incarnate. Disciples blushed and swooned, elders whispered behind sleeves, and even outer sect servants began carving lurid versions of the tale into their gossip chains.
Through it all, Haotian sat quietly in his courtyard, now fully clothed, expression calm as the frozen river.
But deep inside, he sighed heavily.
Not assassins. Not politics. Just endless gossip. Why can't I have peace?
The Emergency Meeting
The Moon Lotus Sect's main assembly hall had never been so full. Disciples crammed shoulder to shoulder, elders seated at the front, all buzzing with excitement.
At the head, Sect Master Yinxue sat with an expression colder than frost.
"Silence," she commanded. Her voice was calm, but the pressure in the air froze every giggle instantly.
"The matter of last night will be addressed. Elder Ziyue did not 'pounce upon' Senior Haotian. She was saving his life. There was no impropriety. You will not repeat wild tales."
Dozens of disciples turned bright red, bowing low.
"…Yes, Sect Master!"
"Forgive us, Sect Master!"
But as they shuffled out, whispers still trailed.
"She stripped him in one move though…""And we all saw it…""…Doesn't that count as fate?"
Yinxue pinched her brow. This sect is chaos.
Later, in the quiet of the snow pavilion, Yinxue met privately with Ziyue.
"So," the Sect Master said softly, "you examined him closely?"
Ziyue hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. His condition was critical. I sent my qi into his meridians… but what I found was beyond comprehension."
Her eyes sharpened, her voice low. "His meridians are not like ours. They are… layered, almost as though weaving two separate systems. Interlaced, impossibly complex. And within him…"
She paused. "…Two cores. Not one. Two. And the paths of his meridians suggest that a third may exist, yet dormant."
Yinxue's hand froze over her teacup. "Three… cores?"
Her breath caught, eyes widening. "Impossible. No mortal body should endure it. Even two cores alone… should tear a cultivator apart."
Ziyue's gaze was steady. "Yet he endures. More than endures—he thrives. His dao, his spear, his alchemy… all of it makes sense now. He is no ordinary prodigy. He is something else."
Yinxue's fingers tightened around her cup, knuckles pale. She sat in silence for a long moment before exhaling softly.
"This cannot leave this room." Her voice was sharp, commanding. "If word spreads, the world will not leave him in peace. He will become prey to every sect, every clan, every hidden monster that covets heaven's blessings."
Ziyue nodded slowly. "I understand. What shall we tell the sect?"
"Nothing," Yinxue said firmly. "This is his private secret. It belongs only to him. We will guard it until he chooses to reveal it himself."
Her gaze hardened, sharp as ice. "Haotian is no longer simply a blessing. He is the pillar upon which this sect will rise. To lose him… would be to lose our future."
Meanwhile…
Far below the pavilion, in his quiet courtyard, Haotian sat once again with his cauldron, the light of runes flickering across his calm face.
He had no idea what Ziyue had seen, nor of Yinxue's decision.
Haotian's courtyard had always been quiet. Birds perched on the eaves, incense smoke curled lazily, and the soft hum of formations kept out distractions.
Not anymore.
Every morning, without fail, a crowd of female disciples gathered outside, clutching flowers, gifts, or cultivation manuals.
"Senior Haotian, please consider me as your Dao companion!""No, me! I'll even bring spirit stones every month!""Hah! I'm stronger than both of you—I'll protect him while he refines!"
They pushed and shoved at the gates until one bold disciple shouted:
"Elder Ziyue already stripped him once, but fate can still be ours too!"
The courtyard nearly collapsed from the shrieks that followed.
Inside, Haotian exhaled through his nose and continued refining calmly, as if surrounded not by disciples but by chirping sparrows.
Meanwhile, the elders convened, their expressions strained.
"This is absurd! Dao companions? He's not even formally an inner sect elder!""They're young. Let them dream. Besides, do you want to be the one to tell them no?""…Not particularly."
The argument ended when Sect Master Yinxue, already massaging her temple, spoke coldly:
"Enough. He is free to choose, or not. No one is to pressure him. Anyone who causes trouble will scrub the latrines for a year."
The disciples heard the ruling—and twisted it instantly.
"You hear that? He's free to choose! That means there's still a chance!""Blessed heavens, even the Sect Master won't stop fate!"
One afternoon, as he was leaving the alchemy hall, a group of disciples surrounded him in the path, eyes shining.
"Senior Haotian, if you accept me as your Dao companion, I'll help wash your cauldrons every day!""No! Accept me! I'll polish your spear—ah, I meant Fenglong Spear!""Senior, I'll—I'll even share my cultivation cushions with you!"
The entire sect seemed to be holding its breath.
Haotian stopped. He turned slowly, his gaze calm, his voice steady.
"…Dao companions are distractions. Pills are eternal. Cultivation is eternal. I do not need a Dao companion."
The silence was absolute.
Then—
"Kyaaah! He's rejecting us because he's too noble!""No, no—he's testing our sincerity!""He's already married in his heart! Look at that serene face!"
The courtyard descended into chaos, disciples crying, laughing, and cheering all at once.
Haotian sighed inwardly. Assassins were simpler than this.
From afar, Elder Ziyue leaned against a pillar, watching with a half-smile.
"Stoic as a mountain, yet they only chase him harder… Poor boy."
But in her heart, she was secretly amused. The once-quiet Moon Lotus Sect now resembled a romantic farce, and the center of it all was the man who wanted nothing more than peace.
The grand gates of the Moon Lotus Sect opened to admit a line of visiting envoys, their banners fluttering proudly in the mountain winds. They came from rival sects—the Flame Dragon Sect, the Ironwood Sect, the Snow Shadow Sect—all curious, envious, and wary after the Glacial Lotus Trial.
They expected solemn halls, disciplined disciples, and the icy grace the Moon Lotus Sect was famed for.
Instead…
They were greeted by a courtyard full of blushing disciples, whispering, sighing, and craning their necks toward one particular direction.
"Senior Haotian walked past here yesterday!""No, he refined pills here last week—I can still feel his aura!""I heard he rejected ten Dao companion proposals this morning!"
The envoys stopped dead.
"…What in the heavens are we witnessing?" one muttered."Is this the legendary Moon Lotus Sect?" another whispered, baffled."I thought they were untouchable maidens of frost… not… swooning maidens of romance."
Their confusion only grew as they entered deeper and saw even inner disciples giggling, clutching jade tokens carved with Haotian's likeness.
By the time they reached the Sect Master's hall, their minds were spinning.
Sect Master Yinxue received them with her usual cold grace, though the faint twitch at her lips betrayed irritation.
"Pay no attention to the disciples," she said firmly. "They are… spirited."
The envoys bowed respectfully, though their eyes still darted around in disbelief. One even dared to whisper, "Spirited… is one word for it."
But none of them missed the undercurrent of power in the air—the lingering essence of breakthroughs, the sharpened aura of disciples whose techniques had leapt in quality. Whatever chaos swirled, the sect's strength had undeniably surged.
And they all knew the reason: Haotian.
While the sect wrestled with gossip and envoys, Haotian himself sat quietly in his sanctuary. The cauldron before him glowed, runes shifting across its surface like drifting stars.
He swallowed a Stabilizing Pill, then exhaled slowly as his qi circulated. The Heaven Sundering Trinity Scripture pulsed through his meridians, reinforcing the delicate balance of his heart core.
Pain still licked at the edges of his channels, but it no longer threatened collapse. Slowly, carefully, he was regaining stability.
His mind turned toward his next theory.
Inner demons…
Every cultivator dreaded them. When breaking through, the illusions of fear, regret, and temptation could shatter a dao heart and ruin lifetimes of progress. Combined with qi deviation, it was a death sentence for most.
But what if… a pill could help?
Not by banishing demons—but by anchoring the mind, sharpening clarity, stabilizing qi when it wavered.
Haotian's fingers traced across an array of herbs laid before him. He murmured softly, already weaving runes in his mind.
"A pill to withstand the heart's storm… a Clear Mirror Pill. Yes. That should be possible."
As he refined in silence, chaos brewed beyond. Envoys whispered enviously, disciples sighed dreamily, elders bickered about how to present the sect's "new face."
And at the center of it all, unknowingly, Haotian sat calm and focused—building yet another miracle.