My head spun as my fellow laborers stared at me, some of them poking with elbows to get a clear answer as to what really happened earlier. Meanwhile, dozens of Inner Sect disciples continued with their lunch, clicking their tongues and stealing glances from the door through which that couple had dashed out in haste.
I found myself at a loss, taking deep breaths to clear my mind. Why was I drawn to those blue lines? Why did that young woman look so shocked at my words? And why did the man beside her seem as if he was about to cry tears of joy right after that?
No matter the reason, the most important thing was that I had almost touched the belly of an Inner Sect disciple. Considering my soul-brother had been whipped to death just for dropping a bucket of water on a disciple, I had nearly come face-to-face with death a moment ago.
With that realization, the whole Dining Hall changed before my eyes. These weren't your average college students sitting around the tables. Geniuses, monstrous talents, highly-promising individuals dined here in the Central Peak. Some of them would grow to claim their own lands, some would write their own legends, and others would stand atop a mountain of corpses in their pursuit of Immortality.
What was I thinking?
But then, those blue lines were… different. They reminded me of summer—a warm breeze coiling around my neck, beckoning me outside, where tall trees and knee-high grass awaited, the chirping of birds loud and clear. I could almost taste the joy in those dreamy seconds I had experienced while reaching for the woman's stomach.
That was life. The woman was pregnant.
Other than the black lines I'd seen under the pimple of that old man who worked in the infirmary, this was the second time I had come across a wave of different lines. Could they represent different sorts of energies? The colors—what did they truly mean?
Shaking my head, I waved my fellow laborers off with a hand and waited as Shen Hai came over, a worried look on his face.
"Kid, I don't know what you were thinking, but that was dangerous," he said with a sigh.
Gulping, I nodded at his words. "I think I blanked out for a second there. It won't happen again, Uncle Hai. You have my word."
"You're worried about me?" Shen Hai chuckled slightly, the tension easing from his face. Patting me on the shoulder, he gazed across the hall toward the Inner Sect disciples. "I just wanted to remind you that we are different from them. It seemed to me that you haven't been quite aware of that lately. You have to be careful about these things. Extra careful, mind you."
My fingers trembled as I met his worried glance, my mind replaying the scene of my soul-brother's whipping. Although the wounds had healed, the pain and everything else was still fresh in my memory.
"I was blind," I said. "I'll try to pay more attention from now on."
"Good!" Shen Hai patted my shoulder again, then waved a hand toward the group. "Alright, kids. We're done here. You're free to do whatever you want. Just don't go around poking disciples like Little Ying here, understood?"
With that, our group left the Inner Sect disciples to their meals.
I decided to take a little tour around the Central Peak in my free time, hoping it would help clear my mind. The fact that I had to watch out for every little thing in this world felt alien to me. A mere word or a simple side-eyed glance could bring trouble to my door, and that was maddening.
Still, I would take that over death any day. My second chance in life might have come with more than a few hurdles, but a second chance it was, and I had no desire to waste it.
Therefore, it was with a spring in my step, great focus on my feet, and a deferential stoop to my back that I trudged around the Central Peak. I refused to look at anyone in particular, even when storms of spiritual energy lines assaulted my senses, and carried myself with such mediocrity that I even got orders from some of the disciples to bring them drinks.
It became increasingly obvious that I had been unwillingly treating this world as something I knew, as something familiar. I was right, of course—just that I had forgotten to act with this knowledge in mind.
So the solution was simple: I had to fall back on the basics.
After carrying trays of wine to some Outer Sect disciples who were lounging by a restaurant called Heaven's Chosen, I bid my farewells to the owner and was told I'd earned a free drink as a reward for my efforts. He also mentioned that he'd hire a couple of waiters to avoid this problem in the future.
Shrugging, I let the myriad sounds of the Central Peak guide me, bringing me here and there to marvel at different sights.
One such sight was a waterfall cascading from the fifth story of a giant building, the waves dissolving into an ethereal fog near the ground and highlighting the double doors that served as an entrance.
Spears of polished jade, swords of immaculate design, and armors of golden silk were displayed on the grand cascade of the waterfall, catching the light in such a way that they almost looked real. Disciples filing out from the entrance carried different sorts of weapons and armor in their hands, some identical to the ones displayed on the waterfall screen.
Just when I thought I couldn't find a more "cultivator" thing here in the Central Peak, my feet brought me before a giant open space, divided by silver fences into more than a dozen patches.
Horses with more than one horn jutting from their heads, apes that looked like muscle-bound monstrosities, and even squirrels with sword-like tails lived inside these patches. Hundreds of disciples watched the beasts with envious glances.
It looked like the spiritual beast trade was just as popular as the spiritual weapons.
In a way, the Central Peak alone was more alive than most of the stories I had read before. The xianxia stories often neglected these parts of their worlds, focusing instead on the pursuit of Immortality and the breakneck tempo of progression.
That line of thought was immediately countered by the sounds of battle coming from beyond the spiritual beast exhibition. A structure loomed just before the opening, pillars of stone standing tall and mighty.
"I shall put an end to this enmity today, once and for all! This sect is too small for two tigers, Chu Feng. Get your worthless ass here and fight me, or don't blame me for being ruthless!"
"You dare threaten me with that vile tongue, you ugly pig! For too long, I've stomached your foul stench, for too long I've let your twisted face sully my mornings. No more! I shall no longer bear your crap!"
Bells rang in my head, the sound traveling far and wide, even disturbing some of the spiritual beasts. As I inched closer to the coliseum-like structure, the loud cheering of a crowd drilled into my ears, taking me by surprise.
People watched as two young men stood in the arena, facing each other with twisted gazes. One was clad in silver armor, both hands clenched tight around a spear that shone with inner light. The other was bare-chested, a dozen scars lining his skin, with a two-headed axe resting on his right shoulder.
When they clashed, the ground beneath my feet shook, and the crowd erupted with cheers. The bare-chested man brought his axe down in a mighty swing, the tips of the weapon glistening dangerously under the afternoon sun, sending streaks of red spiritual energy lines across the arena. The other man welcomed him with a sweep of his spear that blurred with green energy, the wind suddenly picking up all around him.
I couldn't follow their exchange—just flashes and clangs—followed by a loud bang when the spear-wielding young man crashed to the ground in a spur of blood. His right arm was a mess of flesh and bones, the spear clattering a few paces away, banging against the invisible boundaries of the arena.
"Hmph!" the bare-chested man snorted, turning to peer at the audience, blood dripping from his lips. He gave a mighty roar, thumped his axe on the ground, and bounded away in wide strides.
My heart thundered in my chest as I reeled from the sudden exchange. Then I decided I'd had enough of the sect for the day. Too much of anything was never a good thing.
The next day started as usual. We lined up in the 9th Square, waiting for our sergeant-turned-labor chief to distribute our daily work. Under Uncle Hai's insistent gaze, I eased behind him and waited, the morning sun kissing me sideways like a relentless lover.
Slowly, I began to notice the shift in the mood—too-stiff postures, slightly trembling fingers, and glances being stolen toward the Western Gate that stood high in the distance.
If I hadn't spent the whole night trying to absorb those spiritual energy lines, I might've woken up earlier and asked Uncle Hai what was happening. Now, I had no choice but to wait and see the reason for this change.
"Stop moving already! You want me to get expelled? You want this old man to suffer because you can't control those hands of yours? Stop. It. Right. Now!" roared Tang Zixin, pointing his bamboo stick at my slightly crack-brained friend, Kang Yao, who kept shaking his hands.
"But chief—" Kang Yao tried to explain, only to shut his mouth as the bamboo stick came swinging down. It caught him right above the knee, making him double over and scream in pain.
"Serves you right!" Tang Zixin snorted loudly, scowling at the assembled lines. He raised the stick toward the left lines, where young and old women stood waiting. "You can go, but stay away from the fields. We have esteemed company coming today!"
"Esteemed company?" I muttered, leaning closer to Kang Yao. "Who's coming?"
"You don't know?" he said, glancing over his shoulder. He shook his head in disappointment. "This is it, isn't it? The work. It's making us stupid every day. I say we make a run for it. What do you think? It's not like we could ever become servants like Aunt Fan. You know they're paying her in gold? I heard it with my own ears. Gold. Real, imperial gold. Can you believe it?"
"I've said shut those worthless lips, you fool!" Tang Zixin's bamboo stick flew across the line, growing larger and larger in my vision until it smacked Kang Yao hard across the face.
"Ahh!" Kang Yao slumped to one knee, clutching his face as he gasped for breath. He turned to Tang Zixin, his lower lip trembling. "Chief! I was just trying to—"
"Silence!" Tang Zixin stomped his foot, furious. "I demand silence and obedience, not your nonsense about gold. Don't force me to report this to the Labor Office, Kang Yao. Take your place and take it well, and don't open that damn mouth again!"
Kang Yao grudgingly pulled himself up and lowered his head, his fingers clenched tightly under his sleeves.
Taking a glance from the chief, I patted Kang Yao on the back, thanking him for the effort. He was a different sort of breed, but he always tried his best to help me. I reckoned it wasn't easy to find people like him around the sect.
In the following silence, I couldn't help but feel tense, like a fully drawn bow, glancing up at the Western Gate. The spiritual energy lines rolled lazily in the air, resembling translucent worms that didn't quite know where they were going.
I guessed that was normal. Spiritual energy wasn't a living, breathing thing after all, right?
But then all of the lines jolted and froze in midair. I arched an eyebrow, watching as hundreds and thousands of lines started gravitating toward the Western Gate, drawn like moths to a flame.
I could barely see the gate from here, but I could swear it opened with a clang so loud it jerked me back, as if someone had banged a gong near me. My fellow laborers weren't any different, each one staring at the Western Gate as if spellbound.
A group of five trudged out and down the slope, all clad in green robes that shimmered under the sun. The spiritual energy lines danced around them like children before a bonfire, swaying and rolling with joy. They changed colors, transforming into beautiful greens, gorgeous yellows, and mighty reds.
"Order!" Tang Zixin barked, his eyebrows dancing with tension as he regarded us. "The esteemed Alchemists are here!"