Cultivation starts with picking up attributes
Chapter 74: Ch-74: You won’t stay quiet, right?

Chapter 74: Ch-74: You won’t stay quiet, right?

Golden light spilled out.

Tian Shen stepped forward, his robes in tatters, his body bleeding—but his eyes sharper than ever before.

He held a new sword.

Not forged metal—but a construct of pure intent. Transparent, humming, alive.

The elders gasped.

"That’s—!"

Elder Duan’s mouth twitched.

"A Soul Blade."

...

Back in the Sect Grounds

The news spread like wildfire.

Tian Shen had passed the Heart Chamber.

Disciples buzzed with awe.

"He’s like a new core heir!"

But Tian Shen didn’t care.

He returned to his courtyard, where Feng Yin waited with food, bandages, and that familiar scolding glare.

"You’re insane," she said for the second time that week.

He grinned.

"You said that already."

"And I meant it," she muttered, wrapping his arm.

She paused halfway. Her fingers rested on his wrist.

"...You’re changing, Tian Shen."

He looked at her, something quiet in his gaze.

"I have to. The world’s too dangerous to stay still."

She didn’t argue.

Just leaned her head lightly against his shoulder.

"Then I’ll walk beside you, no matter how big your path becomes."

He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t need to.

Outside, the stars glimmered like blades in the sky.

And Tian Shen just closed his eyes.

...

The next morning dawned soft and golden, a welcome contrast to the storm of steel and spirit that had raged the night before.

In Tian Shen’s courtyard, the world was unusually still. No hustle from training disciples. Only the gentle breeze brushing through bamboo leaves, and the chirping of distant spirit birds.

Tian Shen stirred awake, lying on a simple mat beneath the veranda. Bandages covered his arms and chest, but the soreness he expected was... different.

Less pain, more clarity.

He sat up slowly.

The Soul Blade—a transparent, shimmering construct of pure will—rested beside him, gently humming. Not made of iron, nor stone. But forged with something else, something more.

Feng Yin stepped out from inside the courtyard room, holding a tray of steamed buns and herbal tea.

She wore a pale-blue inner disciple robe, her hair tied loosely with a jade clip. Her eyes met his—and narrowed immediately.

"You should be in bed," she scolded.

"I was meditating," Tian Shen replied, stretching his arm with a wince. "Or pretending to."

She sat beside him, placed the tray down, and offered him a bun.

"You haven’t even eaten since yesterday."

He took it with a grateful nod.

"Thanks."

They sat in silence for a moment.

Then Feng Yin asked.

"Did you see something? In the Heart Chamber."

Tian Shen chewed slowly.

"A trial... And Myself."

"That’s vague."

He looked at her, then chuckled.

"And intense."

She arched an eyebrow.

"So you can be honest."

He rolled his eyes, then grew serious.

"Well, how do I say it, the trial... It made me fight myself, to be precise a replica of me."

"...And?"

"I still don’t have all the answers. But I know I’m not walking anyone else’s path anymore."

Feng Yin looked at him for a long while, then nodded.

"Good."

She leaned back on her hands, her gaze lifting to the early sun.

"Everyone’s talking about you. Elder Duan’s been fielding visits all morning. I think the Sect Leader himself might request a meeting soon."

Tian Shen frowned.

"That’s... inconvenient."

"What, you thought no one would notice a Soul Blade? Or you beating Core Formation disciples?"

"...I was hoping for a quiet morning."

She smirked.

"Too late for that."

Just then—a talisman flickered in mid-air above them.

It was crimson-gold, glowing faintly with formal sect script.

A summons.

Tian Shen caught it midair. He read it—and sighed.

"The Sect Leader wants to meet. Now."

Feng Yin clicked her tongue.

"You jinxed yourself."

He stood with a grunt, bones popping.

"Time to meet the dragon."

"Don’t die."

He glanced back at her with a half-smile.

"If I do, I’ll haunt you."

She rolled her eyes.

"You’d be the most annoying ghost."

"I’d rattle your teacups at midnight."

She threw a bun at him.

...

Inner Sect Summit Pavilion – Sect Leader’s Hall

Tian Shen stood beneath a golden canopy, facing a trio of high seats.

At the center sat Sect Leader Ning—a man draped in emerald-green robes with silver thread, his aura deep as the ocean, calm yet boundless.

To his sides were Elder Duan and a sharp-eyed woman in crimson robes—Elder Su, the head of the Disciplinary Pavilion.

"So," Sect Leader Yan began, voice like rolling thunder, "you’ve passed the Heart Chamber."

Tian Shen cupped his fists.

"Yes, Sect Leader."

"And you forged a Soul Blade—without being in the Nascent Soul Realm. Without an inheritance. Without prior instruction in Sword Dao."

"Yes."

The Sect leader’s brow twitched slightly. He glanced at Elder Duan.

"You were right. He’s not ordinary."

Elder Duan gave a smug look, hands folded inside his sleeves.

Elder Su’s voice cut in.

"Soul Blades are rare. But unstable. Formed from raw will—if your will falters, so will your weapon."

"I understand," Tian Shen replied.

"Do you?"

She asked coolly.

"Because you’ve drawn attention from that. Some want to test you. Others—might not be so kind."

Tian Shen met her gaze.

"Let them come. You won’t stay quiet when they bully me, right?"

That earned a surprised chuckle from her.

Sect Leader Yan leaned forward.

"Absolutely, but first, Tell me, Tian Shen. What do you seek in this sect?"

The room fell silent.

Tian Shen paused—then said, "I want strength. So I can protect what’s mine. So I can stand freely—without owing anyone."

A quiet breath passed.

Then Yan smiled faintly.

"In that case—beginning today, you are officially promoted to Inner Core Candidate. Your residence will be moved to the upper terraces. You’ll receive a private cultivation chamber, and access to all inner scrolls—including the Sword Saint Archives."

Tian Shen’s breath hitched.

Those archives were ancient. Secret. Said to contain paths that once belonged to the sect’s founders.

Elder Su narrowed her eyes. "That’s quite the gift."

"It’s an investment," Sect Leader Yan replied. "He’ll rise, or he won’t. But the sect will not smother potential just because it defies tradition."

He looked back at Tian Shen.

"One more thing. Soon, we’ll send disciples into the central battlefield ruins—to retrieve ancient treasures. A team will be selected. You will be among them."

"Understood," Tian Shen said.

"Dismissed."

...

Later That Evening – Back at the Courtyard

Tian Shen returned with a few robes, scrolls, and his new cultivation token.

Feng Yin was already there, pacing.

"Well?"

She asked.

"I’m being promoted."

She blinked. "Seriously?"

"Private chamber. Archive access. Oh—and we’re being sent to the ruins soon."

She groaned.

"More near-death experiences. Great."

He offered her the extra robes.

"You’ll probably be promoted too. You did well in the last mission."

She smiled faintly.

"Maybe. But I’m not the sword prodigy with a transparent glow-stick now, am I?"

Tian Shen raised an eyebrow.

"Jealous?"

She smirked. "Why could i? You yourself are mine."

Their laughter drifted through the courtyard as the sun set.

The days following Tian Shen’s promotion passed with surprising tranquility.

For a sect always brimming with competition and ambition, this lull felt like the eye of a storm.

Whispers of the central battlefield expedition stirred across the mountain halls, but until the final selection was announced, life in the Feilun Sect settled into an oddly peaceful rhythm.

Tian Shen’s new residence, perched on the inner terraces, overlooked a serene valley.

Verdant pine trees flanked the stone courtyard, and a koi pond lay near the training field, gently rippling beneath moonlit nights.

He’d spent the past two days meditating, adjusting to the increased spiritual density in this new cultivation chamber.

The environment was no joke—he could absorb twice the Qi he used to with half the effort.

Already, his Soul Blade felt more responsive, as though the Sword Dao itself was whispering gently in his dreams.

But even cultivation prodigies needed to breathe.

So, on the third morning, Tian Shen stretched, cracked his shoulders, and decided to explore the inner sect grounds more thoroughly—especially now that he could go places previously restricted.

It was on one such wandering stroll that he arrived at the Whispering Glass Lake.

The lake shimmered like liquid jade, bordered by towering red willows whose leaves danced like drifting flame petals.

Only inner disciples or special candidates were allowed here.

The spiritual energy was thick enough to make breathing feel like drinking honeyed wind.

A graceful figure stood at the edge of the lake, poised on a single flat stone.

She wore a violet colored robe, the fabric clinging just enough to hint at the gentle curves beneath. Her hair was done up in a flowing bun, held with a silver hairpin shaped like a phoenix feather. A teasing smirk played at her lips, but her eyes were calm pools of amethyst

Her violet robe fluttered in the breeze, edged with silver lotus patterns. And she moved with the elegance of water—fluid, measured, lethal if needed.

Lan Yueru.

"Hey, ice princess, why always in the pool?"

Tian Shen commented, surprising her.