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Chapter 7: The Boy Who Saw No Road Ahead
A crimson star rose over the Upper Echelon.
Its presence triggered no cultivation phenomena.
It carried no message of fortune.
But the moment it appeared, every sect master, clan patriarch, beast king, and immortal bureaucrat received a single, untraceable divine message:
"None shall answer the Silk Lotus Sect's call."
No title.
No name.
No force signature.
Just a blank seal glowing with seven Dao lines—the mark of the Divine Court.
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In powerful sects:
"A joke… turned real?"
"Wait, that erotic invitation was…?"
"Heavens. We—laughed at it."
Some quietly burned the copies they had stored. Others began studying them again—with fear instead of mockery.
In remote clans:
"What kind of sect would provoke a divine restriction?"
"Has anyone disappeared?"
"My cousin has been....oh no, there he is."
And throughout the realms, an unease bloomed:
Not fear of war.
But of irreversible change.
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The Tianyu Realm
(5 years ago)
Far from the major power centers, nestled between the Mistglass Valley and the Cradle River, lay the Tianyu Realm—a mid-tier plane of modest Qi flow and aging immortal springs.
Its greatest pride was the Tianyu Sect, a regional power with aging elders and not a single ascended being among them. Their techniques were functional, their bloodlines diluted, their libraries outdated.
But once… they had hope.
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His name was Yan Xue, the sect's first disciple, once hailed as a prodigy.
He had awakened two spirit roots.
He broke into Core Formation at seventeen.
He outpaced five generations of elders by sheer work ethic.
But that was years ago.
Now—at twenty-four—his Qi stagnated.
His breakthroughs slowed.
And worst of all—his juniors had begun catching up.
Some even whispered he had peaked.
That his glory was a shallow pond the sect had mistaken for an ocean.
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He sat on the jade floor of the outer disciple courtyard, back hunched, spiritual ink-stained scrolls strewn around him.
> "Why…?"
"I've done everything right. I train while they sleep. I abstain from distraction. I learned the Five Burning Palms and the Lightning Bone Qi Sutra before anyone else in my cohort!"
But the heavens had gone silent.
No lucky encounters.
No hidden bloodline.
No divine beast contracts.
No secret master watching from the shadows.
Just… plateau.
The night breeze passed, cool and fragrant with jasmine from the mountains, but Yan Xue could feel no peace.
He looked up.
The stars blinked back—silent, as if they were turning away.
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> "Is this it?"
"Is this the end of my story?"
The young man trembled.
He had dreamed of shaking realms.
But now, he couldn't even shake his own cultivation bottleneck.
He curled up against the courtyard pillar.
He didn't know it yet…
But something had already seen him.
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