The sun had barely crested over the eastern cliffs of the Azure Sky Cloud Sect when Lan Wu arrived at the central training ground. His robes were clean, his posture straight, and his hands… a little sweaty.
Before him lay a wrapped bundle of pale blue silk, resting atop a stone table carved with the Sect's ancient sigils of cloud, wind, and sword.
Standing nearby, Mei Lian was quiet—arms crossed, expression as unreadable as ever.
"Take it," she said. "From this day, wood is not enough, you need a better weapon to for the training I have for you. ."
Lan Wu stepped forward, slowly untying the silk. Inside lay a sword—not ornate, not dazzling—but elegant in a way only simplicity could achieve.
It was cloud-steel—a blade forged with wind-imbued ores, light as breath but firm as starlight. A long, narrow jian with faint sky-patterns etched along the fuller.
He held it with reverence, as if it might slip through his fingers like mist.
"Its name is Qingxiu, 'Silent Azure,'though every outer disciple have one after a certain level of understanding the sword, it's still good you got it, you learn quick. " Mei Lian said. "It will not tolerate arrogance."
Lan Wu bowed, both to her and the blade.
"I will honor its silence."
The next several days were spent learning how to wield Qingxiu. Where the wooden sword absorbed missteps, the real blade punished them.
His wrists ached from wrong angles.
His shoulders screamed when overextending.
The Wind Spiral Art became volatile—winds snapped too sharp or scattered too thin.
Mei Lian said little. She only corrected through example. Each swing she made was like poetry—effortless, exacting, ethereal. Lan Wu watched her feet, her breaths, the flow of her Qi through each motion.
>"The sword is not your weapon," she said. "It is your question. The wind gives you the answer—if you listen."
And Lan Wu listened. Every night after training, he will still swing the sword, practicing the swings and movements over and over again.
Things were going smooth until....
It came time for the partnered exercises.
That morning, as Lan Wu stretched, a new figure stepped into the training circle: Yao Fan—a senior outer disciple just a year older than Lan Wu, with clear eyes, proud shoulders, and the slight smirk of someone who didn't like wasting time.
"So," Yao Fan said, drawing his own blade with ease. "You're the meek one they talk about?."
Lan Wu bowed. "I am Lan Wu. It's an honor to learn from you."
"You've got the manners of a bird," Yao Fan said, circling him. "All soft and fluttery. Let's see if your sword sings too."
They sparred. Lan Wu's movements were precise but cautious, more defensive than bold. Yao Fan pushed him—hard. He wasn't cruel, but he didn't hold back. Each strike came fast, testing every gap in Lan Wu's form.
Lan Wu never complained.
After the third bout, where he landed flat on his back, he got up again, bowing as always.
"Your control of wind pressure in your thrusts was brilliant," Lan Wu said, smiling. "I'd like to try imitating it."
Yao Fan raised an eyebrow.
"Are you real?" he muttered. "Or did someone build you out of politeness and herbs?"
And Lan Wu imitated his moves but didn't get it well, he laughed as he got it wrong promising he will improve his form.
Later that evening, Lan Wu sat beneath a pavilion, practicing stillness as wind moved around his fingers in small, spiraling arcs.
But this time, he felt a twinge. Not pain—but… pressure. Words from the day's spar floated in his mind.
"Soft." "Timid." "Stray."
He tugged on his sleeve. That small, nervous habit again. It meant something was stirring.
> "What do I need to prove?" he asked the wind.
But Lan Wu needed not to prove anything, he was just trying too much to fit in the a form he too didn't fully understand
The next morning, Mei Lian changed the lesson.
"Today, we train not the body," she said, "but the heart."
She had him sit before a candle, the flame unshielded, as wind swept across the courtyard.
"You will channel Qi and practice the first spiral form of Wind Spiral Art… while holding this flame steady."
Every disruption of his emotions?
The flame flickered.
Every spike of frustration or doubt?
The wind howled, Qi scattered, and the flame died.
It took hours.
But he didn't rise. Not once.
Even Mei Lian, stone-hearted, finally acknowledged him.
"You're still pathetic with the sword," she said, eyes softening for just a breath. "But your heart is… heavy in the right way."
In the soulscape, Wuxie watched the candle training through their shared link.
Chained still, the rage in his eyes had dulled slightly.
> "He's weak," Wuxie muttered. "But… there is something in him."
He turned to the Devouring Moon Beast, who lay still and silent.
"He's going to keep growing, isn't he?"
The beast gave no reply.
But the wind in that dark realm began to spiral—just once—around Wuxie's chains.
" Hmmm, how interesting "
That night, Lan Wu finally drew Qingxiu in full darkness beneath the moon. The blade shimmered pale, and for the first time, the wind around him spiraled evenly, surrounding his feet and wrists.
He smiled softly.
"Thank you… for staying with me this far."
And somewhere high above in the Pavilion, the Grand Elder closed her fan slowly, eyes deep with thought.
"Soon… I must truly test what lies beneath that gentle face. Before it's too late."
Few months later(3 months exactly) :
Morning mist danced along the jade-tiled rooftops of the Azure Sky Cloud Sect. Birds sang low melodies, and the scent of peach blossoms drifted through the quiet air.
Lan Wu knelt before Mei Lian, his head bowed low, sword strapped to his back, eyes wide with anticipation.
"You've been here for months," Mei Lian said, crossing her arms. "Time to act beyond the safety of walls."
She handed him a scroll bearing the mission details, stamped with her seal.
"The Moon Blossom Forest has seen unusual movement in the westward regions. Scout the area. Neutralize minor threats if needed. Observe. Report."
Lan Wu nodded eagerly.
"Thank you… Teacher. I'll do my best."
She raised a brow slightly.
"Do more than try. Return alive."
The Moon Blossom Forest was alive with whispering wind and flickers of colored light through the dense canopy. Silver-petaled trees bent gently, as if greeting him. Spirit vines hummed quietly in the underbrush. Lan Wu's boots were light on moss as he walked carefully, noting wildlife signs, Qi patterns, and terrain shifts.
He fought Moonshade Serpents, dodging with clean footwork and felling them with wind-sculpted strikes. He meditated beneath glowing duskroots. He sketched spiritual ley lines with ink and brush, sealing them into a record scroll.
"This place… it feels like it breathes," he whispered.
The forest was both challenge and teacher.
By the third day, the tranquility changed.
The wind stilled. Animals vanished. The trees stopped whispering.
He found claw marks gouged deep into stone. Trees were blackened, not by fire—but by Qi corruption. A half-decayed deer, drained of core essence, lay with black ichor running from its eyes.
Then, he heard it.
A howl—broken, gnarled. Then another. And another.
Leaping Shin Wolves. A pack.
Lan Wu stood on a mossy ridge, eyes locked to the horizon. Five wolves—grey fur tinted with sickly black—loped out from the shadows, eyes wild, fangs dripping with energy that twisted the air.
"This... this is wrong,what is wrong with their qi? " Lan Wu whispered. "Mei Lian said they're intermediate-grade at best, but…"
Lan Wu had never seen or felt corrupted qi before but knew it was wrong.
Their Qi felt warped. Heavy. And hungry.
"...they're stronger than me."
His heart pounded. Every fiber in his body screamed run.
But he didn't.
The battle began.
Lan Wu called upon the Wind Spiral Art. He flowed and dodged, his blade cutting the wind, his footwork light.
He severed the leg of one wolf. Injured a second. But their pack coordination was terrifying—they flanked, they rotated, they struck with precision no beast should have.
His Qi was draining fast. His arms trembled. One wolf grazed his shoulder; another knocked him hard against a tree. His chest cracked with the impact.
He was practal with his surroundings, using the trees to evade and hide.
Using his blade and qi attack in critical moments but still not enough.
"Just a little more… one more spiral…" he gritted, fingers shaking around his blade.
He willed his body to attack but his movements were slow, one of the wolves snuck behind and hit him hard.
Sending him flying to a tree, he tried standing up but breathing became difficult.
He tried to unleash a wide-range wind burst, to buy time, to escape—!
But he was too slow. His sword slipped. His body buckled.
He collapsed.
Lan Wu lay on the forest floor. Eyes unfocused. Breathing shallow.
He whispered—
"I'm sorry… Teacher… I tried…"
Then—silence. The wolves closing in to make the kill.
And then…
A ripple. A crack.
A pulse of Qi surged out from his body—dark, unnatural, cold like winter's final breath.
The air thickened. The ground cracked.
The wolves froze, instincts recoiling.
Then came the transformation:
His body lifted.
His skin became pale.
His hair became more slick and rough
His eyes opened, no longer soft and grey—but dark violet, not a single emotion behind them.
His spiritual core twisted, his dantain filled with dark qi, his body emitting a force that made plants to wither.
"You filthy mutts," came the voice. Not Lan Wu's voice—deeper, sharpened, dry with venom. "You dare attack me?"
This person looked around, surprised, moved his body like a child testing a new toy, the world was bright, too bright... But that wasn't the main issue.
For standing now, with no chains was the true owner of the body.... Wuixe was back.
One wolf leapt at him—its fangs inches from Wuxie's face.
He raised one hand lazily and touched the wolf, decay wave pulsed out—Qi rotting, flesh withering, core imploding.
The wolf collapsed,it's bodyblackened, dead.
The others whimpered. But Wuxie's smile was slow and monstrous.
"You can't run," he said, stepping forward, wind spiraling around him now like a storm of ruin. "You woke up the wrong half."
What he did next could only be described as when a child is allowed to play in freedom.
Wuixe made sure they each felt pain before he let them die, a smile of pure joy on his face, this was good.
" Finally, I'm free hahaha, so this is what this fool has been training huh? "
A wind whip from the sword tore one of the wolves in half.
" This technique is good but I still don't get it yet, training is what I need".
After defeating the wolves Wuixe thought to himself.
" I don't understand how I'm here right now, this world feels different, I've seen it through the boy's eyes but feeling it? That's different, ".
" Now what to do what to do? ".
Suddenly, his body was shaking, it was as if something was pulling him back, Lan Wu was waking up. Wuixe cursed
" NO NO NO!!!! CURSE IT, CAN'T I HAVE FREEDOM, THIS PEASANT, I SWEAR BY THE HEAVENS I'LL KILL YOU WITH MY OWN HANDS..... for now you are free, but soo we will see who is truly in control ".
And like that , his skin got it's color back, his qi calmed down, and his face went back to being innocent.
Lan Wu fell down, minutes later we woke up, head hurting, it was as if he was drowned in a river.
" What happened? "
He looked around and saw the wolves dead on the ground, their corrupted qi leaking out.
" I won?.... I did it, I actually did it"
Lan Wu didn't know how but he believed he defeated the wolves, he was happy having completed the mission and was ready to go and report to Mei Lian on the job he did, he did feel as if he was forgetting something, like a part of time was missing but he didn't push and just kept that smile on his face. Little did he know that a demon just got a taste of freedom, and it wanted more.