The Heaven did not tremble.
No light split the sky.
No sound rolled across the peaks.
Lin Yuan simply stood beneath the eaves of the Immortal Courtyard and felt that something had finished.
A moment passed.
Then another.
Only after that did the system respond.
Not with ceremony—
but with confirmation.
A translucent panel surfaced within his perception, steady and unobtrusive.
[Fragment Integration Complete]
[Fragment: Stillwater Region]
[Status: Successfully Integrated]
[Authority Increased]
[Power Cap Lifted]
That was all.
Lin Yuan read it twice.
There was no warmth in the words. No praise. No urgency. The system behaved as it always had—recording a change rather than announcing it.
He exhaled slowly.
"So it worked," he said.
The Heaven of Resting Peaks remained silent.
Yet… different.
He could not explain it precisely, but the space around him felt broader. The sky seemed deeper, the clouds more distant, as though the world had taken a quiet step backward to make room.
Lin Yuan lowered his gaze.
That was when he felt it.
Qi.
Not rushing.
Not surging.
It did not flood his meridians or crash against unseen barriers. It simply settled, filling a space that had existed without his awareness.
He did not sit down.
He did not circulate it.
He merely acknowledged it.
The Qi within him thickened naturally, gathering without resistance, until—
Something clicked.
Not a sound.
A completion.
Another text appeared.
[Cultivation Breakthrough Detected]
[Realm: Qi Cultivation]
[Level: 5]
Lin Yuan paused.
Then he laughed.
Softly.
"So I really was capped at four."
There had been no wall. No obstruction. No sense of failure. His cultivation had simply stopped growing, no matter how long he remained within the Heaven.
Now he understood why.
Not because he lacked talent.
Not because he lacked effort.
Because there had been nowhere further to go.
He looked toward the courtyard.
Qingshi stood nearby, hands folded within his sleeves, posture unchanged.
"I was capped," Lin Yuan said.
"Yes," Qingshi replied.
"And now?"
"The cap has lifted."
Lin Yuan nodded.
That explained the ease of the breakthrough. There had been no obstruction to overcome, because nothing had been blocking him—only a boundary he could not cross until now.
He turned his attention inward again.
Qi moved through him smoothly, without technique or pattern. It did not respond to intent. It did not require guidance.
It simply existed—aligned, complete.
He tried something.
He attempted to shape it.
Nothing happened.
Not failure.
Just irrelevance.
Lin Yuan laughed softly.
"So I really don't cultivate like them."
"No," Qingshi agreed.
That answer came too easily.
Lin Yuan glanced at him. "Then tell me this. Who's the strongest cultivator in Stillwater?"
"Qi Cultivation Level Eight," Qingshi replied.
Lin Yuan raised an eyebrow. "Only eight?"
"Yes."
"And if they learn that their so-called Immortal Lord is only Level Five," Lin Yuan said lightly, "do you think they'll rebel?"
Qingshi paused.
His head tilted slightly.
"That is impossible."
"Why?"
"Because you are the Lord of this realm."
Lin Yuan chuckled. "I know. I was joking."
Qingshi remained silent.
After a moment, he tilted his head the other way.
"I do not understand that concept."
Lin Yuan waved a hand. "Never mind."
He looked outward instead.
Beyond the courtyard, the mountain unfolded differently now.
Where once only a single peak had felt solid, three now stood clear and present—each distinct, each grounded. Stone paths extended farther. The slope descended more gently, and the air itself seemed to breathe.
Beyond those peaks lay cloud.
Not illusion.
Not barrier.
Presence.
Stillwater existed there—integrated, yet separate. He could sense it, faintly, like a tide beyond a breakwater.
"I still can't go there," Lin Yuan said.
"No," Qingshi replied. "That region lies beyond your current authority."
"But you can."
"Yes."
"Time flows differently?"
"Yes."
Lin Yuan considered that.
It was deliberate, then. The Heaven did not reject him—but neither did it allow him to interfere freely. Stillwater was part of the realm, yet not part of his daily presence.
That meant something.
"Qingshi," Lin Yuan said, "should I learn cultivation techniques from them?"
Qingshi answered without hesitation.
"There is no need."
"Why?"
"They are part of the Heaven of Resting Peaks."
Lin Yuan frowned slightly. "Meaning?"
"Their accumulated knowledge," Qingshi continued, "belongs to the realm. And the realm belongs to you."
Lin Yuan's gaze sharpened.
"So their techniques…"
"Are already accessible."
"…their understanding of cultivation?"
"Recorded."
Lin Yuan looked toward the main hall.
He did not see shelves.
He did not see manuals.
But he understood.
Whether the knowledge would manifest as texts, impressions, or something else entirely did not matter. What mattered was the principle.
He did not need teachers.
He did not need inheritance trials.
He did not need to bargain for cultivation.
The Heaven remembered.
"And you knew this," Lin Yuan said.
"Yes."
"You didn't tell me."
"You did not ask."
Lin Yuan laughed again, shaking his head.
Fair enough.
He turned his attention back to the system panel, which had not disappeared.
Authority increased.
That line lingered.
"What does authority change?" Lin Yuan asked.
Qingshi replied, "Your power cap. The Heaven's extent. The rules you may enforce."
"And how does it grow?"
"When the Heaven grows."
Lin Yuan narrowed his eyes.
"And how does the Heaven grow?"
"When people live within it," Qingshi said. "When cultivation continues. When order stabilizes."
Lin Yuan understood.
This was the true exchange.
His growth depended on theirs.
Authority was not given—it was anchored.
"So that's why," Lin Yuan murmured. "I can't stay alone forever."
Qingshi said nothing.
The clouds shifted gently beyond the peaks.
Below them, Stillwater's people were awakening to a changed world—Qi flowing differently, limits loosening, rules rewriting themselves without explanation.
Lin Yuan did not watch.
He turned back toward the courtyard.
"Let them settle first," he said. "Then you'll speak."
Qingshi inclined his head.
"As you wish."
Lin Yuan stepped beneath the eaves once more and sat.
The Heaven of Resting Peaks was larger now.
And for the first time, it was no longer empty.
End of Chapter 21