Morning sunlight filtered through the thick canopy of trees, casting golden beams upon the roaring waterfall that crashed endlessly into the pool below. Mist danced through the air, clinging to moss-covered rocks and wild ferns. The air was damp, but peaceful—the kind of stillness one only found at the edges of the Profound Cloud Sect's borders.
Perched atop a flat boulder near the waterfall's base sat a lone figure—shirtless, motionless, and striking against the wild beauty surrounding him.
Ese.
Fifteen years old today.
His eyes were closed, his breath steady, as faint wisps of steam curled from his shoulders and back. Heat radiated from his body, causing even the stone beneath him to warm. It wasn't natural—not a result of the morning sun—but a consequence of the technique he was using.
An unknown, unnamed cultivation method passed to him by his father in secret—just days before the man disappeared without a trace.
It was incomplete. Fragmented. A mystery with missing lines and broken flow. Yet for some reason, it resonated with Ese more than the standard techniques taught within the sect. It responded to something deep within him—something silent, cold, and waiting.
He had been cultivating this way in secret, away from the judgmental gazes of the sect's disciples and elders. Where others progressed with fanfare and guidance, Ese treaded a quiet path built on instinct and isolation.
Tomorrow would change everything.
The spiritual root appraisal ceremony was held for all disciples upon turning fifteen—a rite that determined one's future. Roots of higher quality allowed for faster cultivation, greater potential, and often, respect. A poor result could crush a dream before it even began.
Ese felt no fear.
Let the Root-Reading Jade fail him.
Let the elders label him a waste.
He would show them what they couldn't see.
A rustling behind the trees interrupted his thoughts.
"Young Master Ese!" came a clear voice. "The Sect Leader requests your presence!"
Ese's eyes snapped open. His breath steadied as he exhaled slowly, the residual heat around him dissipating into the cool mist. Without hesitation, he leapt down from the boulder, landing softly on the damp earth.
Without another word, he sprinted toward the mountain path, weaving through narrow trails, thick roots, and scattered stones. The familiar terrain of the sect blurred past as he made his way to the central hall—an imposing structure carved directly into the mountain's face.
The hall doors stood tall and unmoving, etched with ancient runes in the shape of drifting clouds. Ese entered without pause, footsteps echoing lightly as he stepped into the cold silence of the chamber.
At the far end of the hall, seated high upon the dais, was Xia Wenweng—his mother.
She wore pale silver robes that shimmered faintly, as though dusted with frost. Her posture was perfect, her presence commanding. And her expression… was cold.
No warmth greeted him. No nod of welcome. Only a sharp, appraising gaze that pierced straight through him.
Below her stood three elders of the sect.
The Second Elder, draped in solemn blue, studied Ese with a mild, unreadable look.
The Third Elder stood with arms crossed, lips curled in mild contempt. Ese had long since grown used to that gaze.
The Fifth Elder, calm and quiet, gave a slight nod of respect—nothing more.
The First Elder was absent, as expected. He rarely involved himself with internal sect matters anymore. Old, reclusive, and powerful, he was second only to the Grand Elder himself, having reached the First Stage of the Nascent Soul realm. His appearance alone could shake the inner court. Compared to him, even Xia Wenweng—despite being the Sect Leader and at the peak of the Golden Core Sixth Realm—stood slightly below in cultivation.
The others trailed further behind, though not by much.
Ese stepped forward and bowed, voice steady. "You called, Mother."
Her gaze narrowed a fraction. "Tomorrow is your root appraisal. The elders have gathered to bear witness."
A beat of silence passed.
"Do not bring shame to my name."