The morning sun bathed the crumbling courtyard of the Taoist Sect in warm gold as Elder Hua unrolled a parchment scroll across the old stone table. Sheung stood beside her, brush in hand, trying to make sense of the dozens of class options inked across it in precise calligraphy.
"This one covers aerial beasts," Elder Hua murmured, tapping a title. "Useful, but not yet."
Sheung blinked at the overwhelming list. "There's a class for celestial organ harmonics? And one called... 'Blood Contracts and Kinship Runes'?"
Elder Hua gave a rare chuckle. "Yes. Some are... more advanced, or better suited to other paths. What you need now are foundational arts—and those that support the Taoist path."
Sheung nodded solemnly. Together, they marked out a tailored curriculum:
Ritual and Ceremony — to connect with divine forces
Sigils, Formations and Enchantments — refining his foundational skill
Alchemy Fundamentals — to understand internal and external cultivation
Martial Arts Basics — to build physical form and defense
Magical Tool Forging (Beginner) — so he could one day make his own flight artifact
"These will serve you well," Elder Hua said. "Even if others mock the path, they will not mock your results for long."
Later that morning Elder Hua led Sheung through the sprawling grounds of the Taoist sect, her voice steady but filled with reverence. "Each pavilion here was once a proud school of its own, a center of mastery in a unique discipline. Though now silent, their legacies remain."
She pointed upward toward the mountain peak where a sturdy, weathered structure stood. "That is the Swordmaster Pavilion. Great masters once gathered there to refine their blade techniques, weaving swordsmanship with the Tao itself."
As they walked beside a winding river, Elder Hua gestured toward a graceful building nestled among ancient trees. "By the river is the Alchemy Pavilion, where elixirs were brewed and the secrets of transformation studied. Many masters in their prime created powerful cultivation pills there that could quickly raise a disciples power level. Pills from our alchemy pavilion were in high demand, not just here in the sect, but by the whole Academy."
Sheung took in the quiet grandeur of the scattered halls and courtyards, their worn stones and faded sigils whispering of forgotten greatness.
"These pavilions lie dormant," Hua said softly, "but they are waiting. When the threads from the Celestial Court in higher realms reconnect and our Dragonblood Sect rises again, these schools will awaken. Each pavilion will once more nurture great masters and pass on the ancient lore to new disciples."
Her eyes met Sheung's. "You, as heir, bear the hope of rekindling this flame."
They had reached the outer gate of the Taoist Sect. Sheung wore his formal robes and had his brush and writing materials in a satchel that hung to one side. Elder Hua adjusted the hem of his outer sleeve, brushing invisible dust from his shoulder.
"I packed a few spirit-bean cakes," she said softly. "For later. You'll be hungry."
Sheung smiled at her unexpected gentleness.
"You've already made us proud, Sheung Longyao," she added. "Now go. Learn what they think we've forgotten."
He bowed deeply. "Yes, Elder."
And with that, he stepped beyond the threshold, toward the heart of the academy and his first day of class.