Morning sunlight spilled over Azure Heaven Sect, casting golden beams across tiled rooftops and mountain peaks. Mist curled lazily around the training fields, where disciples were already hard at work, their swords flashing in unison as instructors barked commands.
The sect was alive, busy, pulsing with the noise of effort.
And at the very edge of it all, Jiang Hao strolled at his own pace, hands behind his back, robe fluttering in the mountain breeze. His steps were unhurried, his eyes half-lidded as though he'd just risen from a nap.
Whispers followed him wherever he walked.
"Did you hear what happened on patrol?"
"They say Jiang Hao wiped out a whole squad of Demon Sect cultivators—without lifting his sword!"
"Nonsense. He probably hid behind Senior Sister Lin, and someone mistook him for helping."
"But I heard Elder Wu Tian praised him!"
"What? That can't be true. Elder Wu never praises anyone!"
The voices rose and fell like the hum of bees, half in awe, half in denial. Some disciples stared openly, others avoided his gaze. The lazy, useless outer disciple they'd mocked for years had suddenly become the center of every conversation.
Jiang Hao ignored it all. He reached the shade of an old tree, sat down cross-legged, and pulled a small tea kettle from his storage pouch. As the others sweated in the sun, he brewed tea, steam curling upward in soft spirals.
Peace. That was all he wanted.
But peace rarely lasted long in a cultivation sect.
Lin Xueyao stood at a distance, arms folded, watching him. Her beauty, cold and refined, drew every gaze, but her eyes were fixed only on Jiang Hao.
She remembered the patrol vividly—the way enemies had turned to ash without a sound, the way Jiang Hao had stood calm and unbothered in the chaos. It had been no accident. She was certain of it.
But what troubled her was his attitude. He didn't boast, didn't train, didn't even seem to care that the entire sect was buzzing with rumors about him. He brewed tea while others bled to improve.
She approached quietly, her steps crisp against the stone path.
"Jiang Hao."
He didn't look up. "Morning, Senior Sister Lin. Care for some tea?"
Her brows twitched. "We are cultivators. While others train, you sit here wasting time."
"Wasting time?" Jiang Hao chuckled softly. "I'm working."
Her frown deepened. "Working? You're sitting under a tree!"
He poured a cup, the fragrance drifting toward her. "I work from dawn to dusk, nothing more, nothing less. This is part of the balance. A cup of tea in the morning, practice later. That's the nine-to-five dao."
Lin Xueyao stared at him as if he were speaking madness. Yet when she looked closer, she noticed something strange. His breathing was steady, his qi flow smooth, far smoother than most inner disciples. Even without lifting a finger, he radiated strength.
Was this… another form of cultivation?
She almost reached for the tea but caught herself. With a sharp breath, she turned away. "Do as you please. But remember, the sect won't always protect you."
Jiang Hao smiled faintly. "That's fine. I'll protect the sect, if I must. But only during work hours."
Lin Xueyao's steps faltered for a brief moment before she walked away, her expression unreadable.
Later that day, Jiang Hao was summoned to the Elder Hall. The air inside was thick with incense, the stone walls carved with talismans that glowed faintly. At the center stood Elder Wu Tian, his silver hair flowing like threads of moonlight.
He gestured for Jiang Hao to sit. "The sect is restless. Whispers of your strength spread faster than wildfire."
Jiang Hao sat calmly, sipping tea from the cup he'd brought along. "I didn't spread them."
The elder chuckled, though his eyes were sharp. "I know you didn't. But others will twist what they don't understand. Some will envy you. Others will fear you. And the Demon Sect will not ignore what happened in the forest."
Jiang Hao swirled his tea. "Then I'll just avoid them. I prefer quiet."
Wu Tian sighed. "You seek peace, but peace doesn't seek you. Remember that, boy. There will come a time when you cannot hide your strength."
Jiang Hao's eyes softened. He respected this man—this master who cared for him like no one in his past life ever had. "If it comes to that… I'll handle it. But only if it's within working hours."
The elder laughed heartily, shaking his head. "You're impossible. But perhaps that's what makes you different."
That evening, the sect buzzed again as news spread: the Demon Sect had been sighted near the northern border. Villages burned, survivors fled south, and rumors of an impending large-scale attack grew louder with each passing hour.
Jiang Hao sat outside his hut, watching the sunset paint the mountains red. He lifted his tea, exhaled softly, and whispered to the horizon.
"Don't bother me after dusk."
But in the shadows beyond the sect walls, unseen eyes watched him, hungry and vengeful.
The Demon Sect had not forgotten.
And Jiang Hao's quiet life was about to be tested once again.