Lin took a deep breath.The golden hall was too bright, yet the air felt colder than the fog he had come from.
The tiles beneath his feet reflected his small frame like a judgment. Above, the pillars rose like prison bars carved from wealth. Ahead, the woman on the throne watched him as if she could peel the skin off his thoughts and read the marrow.
The Peak Lord.Her gaze did not merely see—it measured. It weighed. It decided.
"What do you think peace truly is?" she asked again, voice gentle, almost lazy, as if this were casual conversation.
But Lin understood.This was not a question.This was an examination.One sentence could decide his value. One wrong answer could decide whether he became a disciple… or just an wandrer .Lin's lungs filled slowly. He did not rush to speak. A child who rushed to speak was a child desperate to please.
In a sect, desperation was a leash.When he finally raised his head, his eyes were calm .
"An angry mind is defeat," Lin said.His voice did not tremble. Not because he was fearless—fear existed, deep and honest—but because fear had already killed him once in another life.
He had learned something then:If fear controlled your words, it controlled your fate.
"Anger," he continued, "is a fire that burns the owner first. It makes you loud, but it makes you blind."
The Peak Lord's eyes narrowed slightly, amused.Lin did not stop.
"Discipline teaches how to live," he said, "not how to survive.
Survival is what beasts do when their teeth are broken. Living… requires control."His words fell into the hall like stones dropped into still water—no splash, only widening circles of quiet tension.
"Wisdom," Lin said, gaze steady, "is chased by fools who don't understand the world's laws. True understanding doesn't feel like wisdom. It feels like inevitability.
"A faint pressure flickered in the air, like a blade unsheathed for a heartbeat, then returned.Lin's tone grew colder.
"Loyalty is for dogs," he said. "I am human."
The hall seemed to hold its breath.If this was any other peak—Strength, Anger, Discipline—those words might have been taken as arrogance or insult.
But Lin had chosen Dove Peak.He did not choose it because he was kind.He chose it because peace was the most ruthless concept of all.He continued, unmoved.
"Freedom is for the dead. The living are always bound—by hunger, by fear, by love, by weakness, by time. Anyone who says otherwise is selling a dream."His eyes did not flicker from the Peak Lord's face.
"Strength is for the weak," Lin said. "The strong don't worship strength—they use it. People who talk about strength all day are usually compensating for a fragile heart."
"And patience," he said, voice quiet, sharp, "is often just fear wearing polite clothes. People call it patience because they don't have the will to fight.
"He paused.The silence stretched.The Peak Lord leaned back slightly, watching him as if watching a strange animal that had suddenly spoken human language.Lin let the silence exist. Silence was part of peace.Then he spoke the final line.
"Peace," Lin said, "is when you are not commanded by others. When you live by your own principle. When your heart does not kneel, even if your body must."For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the Peak Lord smiled.Not a polite smile.A genuine one bright, sharp, full of interest.She rose from her throne, her long robes trailing like ink across sunlight.
When she stepped down, the hall's pressure shifted with her movement, as if the space itself adjusted to accommodate her will.
She clapped.
Once.Twice
.The sound echoed in the golden hall like thunder hidden inside silk."What a splendid answer," she said.
"How can such words come from a child?"Lin lowered his gaze slightly, neither humble nor proud. He did not explain. Explaining would turn his words into a plea. He had given his answer.
That was enough.The Peak Lord lifted her hand, and Qi coiled around her fingers like a living ribbon. A ring on her hand glowed faintly.With a soft flick, items appeared in midair as if pulled from a hidden world.
They floated before Lin, one by one.A set of sect robes—clean, new, carrying the subtle scent of fresh cloth and spiritual herbs.A thin manual of rules, bound in dark thread, its cover plain but heavy with authority.
A pouch of currency—spirit coins, their faint jingling sounding far too real for how easily they were summoned.And finally—A token Lin did not understand.It was not a coin, not a jade slip, not a weapon.
It looked like a small carved seal—half jade, half stone, etched with a pattern that resembled a dove's wing wrapped around a mountain.Lin hesitated only briefly, then asked politely, "Peak Lord… what is this?"The Peak Lord's smile widened a little, as if she enjoyed watching the confusion in his careful eyes.
"A gift," she said. "From my side."She stepped closer, and Lin felt the pressure from her presence deepen—not crushing, but absolute, like standing in front of a waterfall that could decide to fall on you or not.
"This is the key to a cave abode,"
she said. "A residence. A cultivation ground."Lin's pupils tightened.Cave abode.He had heard the term among elders and merchants, always spoken with envy or reverence. An abode meant concentrated Qi, safety, privacy—resources not given to ordinary disciples.The Peak Lord's voice remained casual, as if she were handing him a fruit."Our Dove Peak owns this main peak, and one thousand small mountains around it," she said. "A thousand. Each has an abode.
Some better, some worse."She tilted her head slightly."This one is yours."Lin bowed deeply."This disciple thanks Peak Lord," he said.The Peak Lord waved her hand as if brushing away dust.Then she clapped again.
The hall's air rippled.A figure descended from above—a young man in sect robes, landing lightly on the golden tiles as if gravity respected him. His aura was stable, sharp, and controlled.He immediately bowed."Peak Lord, you called for me?""Yes," she said. "This is your junior brother."
The disciple's eyes flickered toward Lin. He looked Lin up and down—small body, young age, calm gaze—and a trace of disbelief rose in his expression.He hesitated."Peak Lord… forgive this disciple," he said carefully, "but isn't a cave abode reserved for top inner disciples? Why give it to him?"The Peak Lord's smile vanished.Not slowly.Instantly.
The temperature in the hall seemed to drop.Her eyes turned into knives."Don't ask me questions," she said softly. "Do as you're told."The disciple's face paled. He bowed quickly."Yes, Peak Lord."Only then did the pressure ease slightly, as if the hall itself had been allowed to breathe again.
The Peak Lord turned away, already losing interest in the matter like a queen who had finished speaking to an ant."Take him," she said, "and deliver him to his abode."The disciple bowed again, then raised his hand.A sword appeared.It did not fly out of a sheath. It simply manifested—steel forming from condensed Qi, humming with restrained power.
The blade hovered in midair, waiting like an obedient beast.The disciple stepped onto it."Junior," he said, forcing calm into his tone, "come."Lin did not hesitate. Hesitation was weakness. He stepped onto the sword as well.The sword lifted.The hall vanished beneath them.
Wind slammed into Lin's face. His hair whipped backward. The world opened like a scroll unrolled by a god—mountains layered upon mountains, forests like green seas, rivers glittering like veins of silver.
Above them, clouds drifted like lazy beasts. Below them, the sect's enormous territory spread outward—countless halls, training fields, bridges, and terraces carved into the mountain like a civilization built by immortals.The disciple glanced sideways at Lin."You sure are lucky," he said, voice half envy, half disbelief.
"A cave abode on your first day in the inner sect… what did you do? Are you from some terrifying clan?"Lin shook his head."No, senior brother," he said. "I also don't know the reason. I only answered one question."The disciple frowned."One question?"Lin nodded. "She asked why I chose Dove Peak."The disciple fell silent for a moment, then chuckled dryly."Tch.
Then your answer must have pleased her."He looked at Lin again, more seriously this time."Listen, junior," he said. "Dove Peak looks peaceful, but don't misunderstand. Our Peak Lord… she is not gentle. She is 'peace' the way a blade is peaceful—silent until it cuts."Lin's eyes narrowed slightly."I understand," he said.The disciple stared at him, as if trying to decide whether Lin truly understood or was only pretending.They flew onward.Slowly, the clouds parted.
A small mountain appeared ahead, separate from the main peak—like an island floating in a sea of air.It was beautiful.A clear stream ran down its side, water singing against smooth stones. A small lake rested at the mountain's foot, reflecting the sky like a mirror. Tall trees grew thick and old, their leaves glowing green under sunlight. The grass was soft, dense, untouched—like this mountain had never known war.And yet Lin could feel it.Qi.Not violent.
Not loud.But deep.It soaked the air, seeped into the skin, filled the lungs like a second kind of breath.They descended.The sword hovered above a stone platform near a carved entrance hidden behind hanging vines—an opening shaped like a natural cave mouth, but refined by human hands.
On the stone above it, the dove-wing seal was carved again.The disciple stepped off the sword and pointed."This is your place," he said. "From now on, this mountain is your home."Lin stepped down and looked around.There was no laughter. No crowd. No welcoming drums.Only wind, water, trees—and the quiet pressure of a world that would not pity him.The disciple spoke again."Cultivate properly," he said. "In a few days, the welcome ceremony will be held for new inner disciples
. Until then, eat, rest, and don't wander too far. Dove Peak has rules that aren't written in the manual."Lin clasped his hands."Thank you, senior brother."The disciple nodded, still looking slightly irritated at the unfairness of Lin's gift, but not daring to show it too openly.He stepped back onto his sword.
The blade rose."Take care, junior," he said, and then he shot into the sky, becoming a streak of light that vanished into cloud.Silence returned.Lin stood alone.A seven-year-old boy on an entire mountain.But inside him was not a child's heart.Inside him was a soul that had already died once… and had chosen to live again.He looked at the cave entrance.He looked at the lake.
He looked at the sky.All that remained with him now was himself—his soul, his resolve, and the cold, unbending will that refused to kneel again.He exhaled slowly."This is good," he thought. "This is freedom."Then he stepped forward into the cave abode, and the shadows swallowed him gently, like a promise.
To be continued…