"I decline," Madam Mayumi said, her tone calm yet resolute.
Xianlu's brows furrowed in confusion, his pristine features betraying his disbelief as he stood up. "I beg your pardon?" he asked, his voice steady but tinged with frustration.
He had prepared meticulously for this. His words had been chosen with care, each phrase crafted to convey his vision and his passion. He had even brewed a tea blend specifically designed to impress her discerning palate—one that had elicited a brief flicker of approval in her eyes. But even that, along with his demonstration of Cultivation that he believed to be beyond reproach, had apparently not been enough. Madam Mayumi had declined without hesitation, without even seeming to give the matter proper thought.
Madam Mayumi, ever composed, allowed a faint smile to play across her lips as she observed Xianlu's reaction. His carefully cultivated aura of composure had cracked ever so slightly, and the young prodigy now seemed caught between outrage and despair.
"You're surprised," she said, her voice lilting with amusement.
"Surprised isn't the word," Xianlu replied, forcing his tone to remain neutral. "I'm… curious."
"You're disappointed," she corrected, folding her hands in her lap. "And it's written all over your face. But I'll explain my reasoning, as I doubt you'll let this go until you understand."
She gestured for him to sit, her expression softening. Xianlu hesitated before lowering himself onto the chair across from her again, he even returned to his mortal form. The weight of her gaze was like an immovable mountain, and he felt both compelled and uneasy as she began to speak.
"Your cultivation is unstable, Xianlu," Madam Mayumi began, her voice steady and authoritative. "That much is clear to anyone with half an eye."
"Unstable?" he echoed, taken aback.
She nodded. "You've hidden your true cultivation level well, I'll grant you that. It's impressive for someone your age. But the aura you emit doesn't lie. It's erratic, like a flame flickering in a windstorm. You've risen too quickly, haven't you?"
Xianlu's silence was telling.
"Tell me, do you fully understand your Bloodline Ability?" she asked suddenly, her sharp gaze pinning him in place.
"I… I know its basics," he admitted, his voice faltering. "Its surface value."
Madam Mayumi sighed, disappointment evident in her expression. "And there it is. You've tapped into a power you barely comprehend. You've pushed yourself to heights without first understanding the foundation beneath your feet. That is a dangerous path, Xianlu. And one that often ends in ruin."
She reached for her teacup, taking a deliberate sip before continuing. "Cultivation is like filling a jar with water," she explained. "Each drop represents a moment of progress—a steady, controlled accumulation of power. If you rush, pouring streams of water into the jar all at once, the liquid becomes diluted. Worse, the jar might crack under the strain. That's what I see in you: an overflowing jar, dangerously close to shattering."
Xianlu swallowed hard. Her words cut deeper than he'd like to admit.
"What you need," she said, setting the teacup down with a quiet clink, "is time. Time to allow your power to condense, to stabilize. Without that, your so-called progress will be as fragile as glass."
"Perhaps you think I'm being overly cautious," she continued, her tone softening. "But consider this: while your peers have been gaining practical experience on practical classes at the Academy—learning through trials and failures—you've taken shortcuts. Have you ever faced a true test of your abilities? One that forced you to adapt, to survive?"
Xianlu opened his mouth to respond, but she held up a hand to stop him.
"I don't mean theoretical knowledge," she said sharply. "You excel in that, I have no doubt. But intellectual understanding is not enough. Practical experience builds the foundation upon which true strength is built. Without it, you're like a palace constructed on sand—beautiful to behold, but destined to collapse under the slightest pressure."
Her words stung, but Xianlu couldn't deny their truth. He had spent years in study, honing his mind and mastering the intricacies of Cultivation theory at the library. But real-world experience? That was a different matter entirely since he was not allowed to attend those classes.
"You want to become a Creator," Madam Mayumi said, her voice turning stern. "And you think producing Spiritual Qi is enough. It's not. To meet the minimum requirements, you need stability. Your Bloodline Resonance is barely at 1%—did you even know that?"
Xianlu stiffened.
She nodded knowingly. "Exactly as I thought. Resonance isn't something you can brute-force, Xianlu. It requires attunement. You must understand your bloodline intimately, familiarize yourself with its capabilities, and learn to wield it with precision. Only then will your resonance grow. Without that, your ambitions to become a Creator are nothing but a dream."
"Ambition is not your problem," she said, her voice softening again. "If anything, you have too much of it. And that's not a bad thing—not entirely. Ambition drives greatness. But when it blinds you to reality, it becomes a flaw."
Xianlu lowered his gaze, unable to meet her eyes.
"I can see your potential, Xianlu," she said, her tone almost kind. "You have the makings of greatness within you. But potential alone is not enough. Greatness requires patience. It requires wisdom. And it requires the humility to admit when you're not ready."
She leaned forward slightly, her gaze intense. "And you, Xianlu, are not ready."
"You remind me of tea," she said suddenly, her tone lighter.
Xianlu blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected comparison. "Tea?"
"Yes. Tea must be brewed with care," she said, gesturing to the pot between them. "If you rush the process, pouring boiling water over the leaves and drinking it immediately, the result is bitter and unpleasant. But if you let it steep, if you allow it time to develop, the flavors become rich and complex."
She smiled faintly. "You are like tea that has been rushed. Full of potential, but unrefined. Give yourself time, Xianlu. Let yourself steep. Only then will you reach your full potential."
As her words sank in, Xianlu felt a wave of disappointment wash over him—not in Madam Mayumi, but in himself. He had spent so much time planning his grand revolution, imagining himself as the catalyst for change, that he had neglected the most important element of his plan: himself.
He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. He hated feeling powerless. He hated being told he wasn't ready. But deep down, he knew she was right.
In this dog-eat-dog world, power was everything. And he had seen firsthand how corruption could thrive unchecked, protected by those who wielded it. If he wanted to change the world, he needed power—not fleeting, unstable power, but true, unshakable strength.
He looked up at Madam Mayumi, his eyes burning with determination. "I understand," he said quietly.
She studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Good. Then prove it. Take the time to stabilize your Cultivation. Understand your bloodline. Build a foundation that will not falter, no matter what challenges you face."
Xianlu rose to his feet, bowing deeply. "Thank you, Madam Mayumi, for your guidance."
Her lips quirked into a faint smile, though her gaze remained serious. "Don't thank me yet, Xianlu. The road ahead will not be easy. If you can endure it, if you can temper your ambition with patience, then—perhaps—you may yet achieve greatness."
She paused, letting her words sink in before tapping the table lightly.
Madam Mayumi's position prevented her from helping Xianlu directly; her hands were tied in more ways than one. But there were still ways she could guide him—indirectly.
From her sleeve, she produced a ring and placed it on the table. Xianlu's eyes widened as recognition dawned. It was no ordinary ring—it bore the same intricate markings as Madam Mayumi's own spatial ring, a rare artifact capable of storing objects within a dimensional space.
Madam Mayumi made no effort to explain the contraption. Instead, she simply said, "Inside, you'll find books that you will need if you wish to move forward. I trust you'll know their value when the time comes."
She then added, almost nonchalantly, "I've included a basic cultivation technique that every Vein-Weaver learns. I cannot give you something more advanced—my hands are tied—but if you study it carefully, you might find it… enlightening. I wouldn't be surprised if your father's cultivation technique was built upon its foundation."
Xianlu's sharp mind immediately caught the hidden implication.
He was no stranger to Madam Mayumi's frequent mention of her "tied hands," a phrase he had long suspected was tied to a Blood Oath. Respecting her boundaries, he refrained from prying further. Whatever restrictions bound her were hers alone to carry.
When he reached for the ring, Madam Mayumi stopped him with a pointed look. "This," she said, her voice firm, "is my payment for the tea you served me today. Nothing more. What we've had here is a transaction."
Before leaving, she turned to Xianlu, her tone low but pointed. "Remember this: the sky is never empty—there are always eyes watching. Keep your trump cards hidden, even from the shadows."
Her words hung in the air, a warning and a lesson all at once. With that, she swept out of the tea shop, leaving Xianlu to ponder both the weight of the ring on his finger and the caution in her words.
As she stepped outside, the cool air greeted her, but her senses remained sharp. It didn't take long for her to notice something—or rather, someone.
To her left, she spotted a figure standing in the distance. Her heightened cultivation allowed her to discern his features even at that range. It was Tameko, the butler of the Riverscale Clan's leader.
Madam Mayumi gave him a curt nod, acknowledging his presence. Tameko returned the gesture with a satisfied expression, though he didn't move closer.
Madam Mayumi had grown accustomed to Tameko's subtle surveillance. Every time she visited the tea shop, he was nearby, watching but never interfering. His duty was clear: to observe, not to act.
She had nothing to hide—not truly—but she took precautions nonetheless. Each time she entered the tea shop, she encapsulated the building with her aura, creating a barrier that blocked any prying senses. When Xianlu had revealed his hidden cultivation, she had reinforced the barrier further, ensuring his secret remained safe.
Tameko, for his part, respected her methods. As long as her actions did not violate the Blood Oath, he saw no need to report them to the Riverscale Clan's leader. Time and time again, his observations of the tea shop had yielded nothing out of the ordinary. And though Madam Mayumi's visits might have seemed suspicious to some, Tameko had come to view them as harmless.
He lingered for a moment longer, his sharp eyes scanning the shop's exterior, before turning away. For now, all was as it should be.
Inside the tea shop, Xianlu stared at the ring in his hand, feeling its weight despite its lightness. The faint glow of its surface hinted at the vast potential contained within. Madam Mayumi's words echoed in his mind: What we've had here is a transaction.
Yet Xianlu couldn't shake the feeling that the ring—and the knowledge it held—was far more valuable than she let on.
"Remember this: the sky is never empty—there are always eyes watching. Keep your trump cards hidden, even from the shadows." Xianlu caught the meaning behind this and he agreed - he was always the cautious type.
His journey was only just beginning. And while the path ahead remained uncertain, one thing was clear: he had been given a chance. A chance to grow, to stabilize, and to prove himself worthy of the greatness he sought.
---
The tea shop buzzed with its usual hum of life, a quiet rhythm that seemed almost timeless. Customers came and went, sipping their tea in contented silence or exchanging pleasantries with Grandfather Daiten, who had resumed his role behind the counter. Though his health had yet to fully return, his presence alone breathed life back into the small establishment.
For Xianlu, however, the tea shop was both a sanctuary and a constant reminder of the chains he longed to break. While his grandfather tended to the customers, Xianlu retreated to the solitude of his own bedchamber, where he could finally immerse himself in study.
Xianlu thrived in the stillness of his chamber. He craved purpose and structure, both of which his mind constructed with obsessive precision. Every detail mattered, every moment needed to contribute toward his goals.
He wasn't simply striving for power—he was driven by a fierce desire to prove himself. His relatives, the clan, even the world itself would one day see his worth. But ambition without method was reckless, and Xianlu was anything but madness. His rise would be deliberate, each step carefully calculated.
The first step had been mastering the spatial ring gifted by Madam Mayumi. It hadn't taken him long to unlock its potential. With a single drop of blood, the ring was bound to him, revealing a storage space of ten cubic meters.
It wasn't vast, but it was enough. Within its confines lay a collection of books and materials that could change his life. Madam Mayumi's "transaction payment" was more than an item—it was a chance.
Hours passed as Xianlu meticulously cataloged the contents of the ring. Each book was organized by topic, its contents briefly skimmed before being slotted into his ever-growing mental library. He developed a system of active reading and skimming that allowed him to absorb knowledge quickly, though it wasn't without its challenges.
The books were filled with diagrams and practical instructions rather than dense theory. For someone who thrived on intellectual puzzles, this shift to hands-on learning was frustrating. Yet Xianlu knew he needed it. The gap in his experience had long been his greatest weakness.
A Hunger for Knowledge
As the days passed, Xianlu's focus deepened. The books contained the basics of cultivation—techniques his peers had likely mastered long ago. The realization stung.
In his mortal days, his inability to cultivate had barred him from the academy, despite his Koicha lineage. Though Uncle Yuhen, an academy instructor, had tried to help and guide him, Xianlu had been relegated to menial tasks like cleaning the public library.
Still, even then, he had made the most of his circumstances. Surrounded by the books, he had read in secret, absorbing their theories with a voracious intellect. While others trained their bodies and qi, Xianlu sharpened his mind, believing it was enough to place him ahead of his peers.
But theory alone was not enough, and Madam Mayumi's words echoed in his mind: "Practical experience builds the foundation upon which true strength is built. Without it, you're like a palace constructed on sand—beautiful to behold, but destined to collapse under the slightest pressure."
Xianlu bristled at the truth in her statement. If experience was what he lacked, then experience was what he would gain.
Driven by his perfectionist nature, Xianlu crafted a detailed plan to address his weaknesses:
First was Mastering His Bloodline Abilities
The books offered no direct guidance on his two bloodline abilities, leaving him to experiment on his own. This was both frustrating and exciting. Through trial and error, he began to uncover hints of his potential, documenting every discovery with painstaking detail.
Second was Decoding the Cultivation Technique
Madam Mayumi had hinted at hidden insights within the basic cultivation techniques she provided. Xianlu approached them with the same intensity he brought to everything he did. If his father had derived his own method from these basics, then perhaps they held a key to something greater.
Third was Increasing His Resonance
Among the items in the spatial ring was a Resonance Stone—a device that measured a Vein-Weaver's resonance percentage. His first reading had been disheartening: just 1%. Resonance was a measure of one's attunement to their bloodline, and without it, Xianlu's abilities would remain limited.
Xianlu's thoughts often turned to his grandfather. Daiten, once a figure of respect within the Riverscale Clan, had achieved an 80% resonance during his peak. Such a level was awe inspiring, a mark of extraordinary power and potential.
Yet even at his height, Daiten had been unable to heal his injuries. The Riverscale Clan had abandoned him, withholding veinroot that could have restored his strength.
Why?
The question gnawed at Xianlu. The clan's rigid hierarchies and ruthless politics were no secret, but this seemed like more than neglect. Had his grandfather been seen as a threat?
These doubts fueled Xianlu's determination. He would rise above the system that had discarded his grandfather, but he wouldn't do so recklessly. Drawing attention too early was dangerous.
Madam Mayumi's parting advice lingered in Xianlu's mind: The sky is never empty—there are always eyes watching. Keep your trump cards hidden, even from the shadows.
Xianlu knew better than to disregard her warning. For now, his progress would remain a closely guarded secret. He would accumulate strength in the shadows, hidden from the prying eyes of both allies and enemies.
Each day, he practiced the basic techniques, tested his resonance, and pushed himself further. The Resonance Stone became his silent motivator, its readings inching upward with every effort.
In quieter moments, Xianlu pondered the life he wanted. His grandfather's plight served as both a warning and an inspiration. His Grandfather Daiten had once been a beacon of strength, only to be cast aside when he was seen as a threat.
Xianlu refused to suffer the same fate. His ambition burned brighter with each passing day, illuminating the path he needed to take.
He meditated on his goals, visualized his future, and refined his control over his bloodline abilities. He practiced until the diagrams in his books were etched into his mind.
The world may not have noticed him yet, but Xianlu was patient. The greatest storms began as whispers in the wind, unnoticed until it was too late.
---
The tea shop continued its unassuming existence, a quiet haven far from the clan's center of power. His Grandfather Daiten seemed content to let Xianlu focus on his own pursuits, though his occasional glances carried a knowing weight.
Perhaps he sensed the storm brewing within his grandson.
For Xianlu, the shop was both a refuge and a reminder of what he sought to leave behind. It shielded him from the scrutiny of the outside world but also tethered him to a life of limitations.
Every day, Xianlu felt the pull of his ambition. Every day, he worked harder, pushed further, and inched closer to the future he envisioned—a future where the name Xianlu Koicha would echo through the halls of power.
When his time came, he would not merely whisper his arrival.
He would roar with the might of a Dragon!