Cultivation starts with picking up attributes
Chapter 97: Ch-97: Breakthrough

Chapter 97: Ch-97: Breakthrough

The moon hung heavy and swollen above the sect’s lofty ridges, its silver light pouring across the rooftops like milk spilled from heaven.

Tian Shen pushed open the modest door to the courtyard residence where he, Feng Yin, Little Mei, and their lazy-birdie had taken root since joining the sect.

A delicate warmth spread through him.

Not from Spiritual Qi.

Not from whatever arcane hitchhiker might be nesting in his soul.

But from the simple sound of clinking bowls and familiar voices.

"You’re back!"

Little Mei’s muffled shout came from inside, punctuated by a loud slap of something hitting a table.

"If you think we’re saving you the crispy dumplings, you’re dreaming!"

A lazy voice yawned from further within.

"Let him come in before you start yelling. He might’ve been eaten by a formation ghost or... got beaten to death by Elder Su."

Feng Yin’s voice.

Low But Smug.

Tian Shen blinked, then smirked.

He stepped in.

"You say that like I wouldn’t enjoy dying that way."

Three heads turned toward him.

Feng Yin leaned against the far wall, one knee drawn up and her chopsticks poised in mid-air.

Her long black hair was tied loosely, and a faint quirk danced on her lips as she sized him up.

"But You’re Okay," she said.

"And You’re Warm," he replied, walking past her with a lazy flick to her ponytail.

"Touch me again and You’re not getting any sleep tonight."

"Okay, okay."

At the low table in the center of the room, Little Mei was already stuffing a dumpling into her mouth.

The tiny gremlin of a girl—hair always two degrees from being a bird’s nest—waved with a happy mmf! before motioning for him to sit.

Drowsy, their smug chicken goddess, sprawled across the window ledge like it had aged twenty years in two days.

Her one leg pointed in Tian Shen’s direction before she rolled over and snored louder.

Tian Shen dropped into the space beside Little Mei.

"What’s for dinner?"

"Steamed buns, crispy dumplings, bamboo broth, and a very burnt attempt at sticky rice."

Feng Yin’s voice was too calm to be innocent.

"She distracted me mid-stirring!"

Little Mei accused, pointing a greasy chopstick at Feng Yin.

Feng Yin replied smoothly.

"’The stars envy me as the first wife’, i said. Not my fault she lost her mind over it."

"heh, woman."

Tian Shen chuckled.

"I missed this," he said quietly.

Feng Yin paused mid-bite. Her gaze softened, just for a flicker.

"You’re not bleeding. That’s good."

"I missed you too. No, you three actually."

They all fell into a steady rhythm after that.

Banter. Food. He told them his part of the adventure and in turn, he got their stories of cultivation drills, scroll thefts, and a terrifying elder who had unknowingly trained Feng Yin a sword style by slicing lightning bolts in half during thunderstorms.

"Which I also plan to try," Little Mei announced proudly, with her bust demonstrating gravity.

The meal ended with Little Mei slumping against the wall, mumbling about dumpling and dream gardens.

Tian Shen dragged her to the bedchamber, tucking the beastial beauty under a soft blanket, then walked onto the courtyard balcony.

The wind was cool. Soft.

Moonlight dusted the quiet tiles. A subtle peace settled over him.

And yet.

And yet.

His chest still hummed.

A low, quiet murmur. Not pain. Not foreign. Just...

"What? feeling off?"

Feng Yin’s voice drifted from behind him. She leaned beside him on the balcony, arms interlocked with his, her eyes half-lidded with thought.

He nodded slowly.

"Like something’s not mine anymore. Or maybe it always was, and I’m just now waking up to it."

"That’s called emotional growth."

He just snorted.

She tilted her head, studying him.

She said.

"Maybe whatever touched you just pass through. Sounds logical but, Oh well."

He turned toward her, meeting her gaze.

"If I turn into a demon or something alike, will you stop me?"

"I’ll kick your ass first. Then, depending on how cute your demon form is, I might reconsider."

He smiled. That’s just how she was.

They stood there for a while, quiet beneath the sky. Two cultivators. Two survivors. Both pretending they weren’t afraid.

Eventually, Feng Yin turned to leave.

"You should rest," she said. "Tomorrow, the sect’s sending people to investigate the Lotus ruins again. Elder Su wants to brief the Grand Elders."

He nodded absently.

But he didn’t move.

Not for a long time.

...

Next Morning.

Tian Shen sat cross-legged atop the training platform at the edge of the forest glade.

Mist curled around the trees. Birdsong trickled from the canopy. The world was still waking.

And so was he.

Spiritual Qi flowed through his meridians in smooth arcs. Quite a thing Tian Shen normally do. Not like he was any normal.

Then—

Something clicked.

More like a door opening somewhere deep inside him.

Like tornado, Spiritual Qi spiralled around him. Trying to have him implode.

He gasped.

His body began to change—not physically, but metaphysically. A new sphere of presence swelled at the core of his being, luminous and complete.

Core Formation.

He had broken through.

Just... like that.

Raw. Clean. Almost quiet.

But not without consequence.

His vision swam. Symbols flickered across his Core. Not of this world. Not of any cultivation text he’d ever read.

And his pulse—no, his soul—beat in rhythm with something far above him.

*Boom**Boom**Boom*

Something in the heavens stirred.

The sky above shifted, clouds swirling, Qi gathering. Not a tribulation, but a resonance.

From within his robe, the jade seal Elder Su had given him shattered.

He opened his eyes just as a strange wind howled across the platform, tearing through branches like paper.

Feng Yin burst from the side hallway, blade in hand.

"Tian Shen! What did you—"

She froze.

His aura... was intense, more intense.

She stepped forward cautiously.

"Did you... break through?"

He looked down at his hands. They shimmered faintly with silver script that faded before he could blink.

"Yeah," he said softly. "I think I did."

She exhaled, lowering her blade—but her eyes were wary.

"...And?"

He smiled faintly.

She didn’t lower her guard completely. Feng Yin’s brows knit in that tiny worried crinkle she always denied having.

Tian Shen took a breath, slow and deliberate. The air itself responded—curling into his lungs like it belonged to him.

He looked toward the heavens, then back at her, and shrugged.

"Just... tuned up a bit."

"That’s confusing," she muttered, though her hand fell away from her sword.

He stood, brushing dirt from his robes as residual Qi crackled in ghostly trails around him.

"I didn’t try to break through. It just happened. Like some... path was already carved, and I stepped on it by accident."

"Accidents don’t usually shatter Elder Su’s jade seals and make the sky growl," Feng Yin said, arms crossed. Her voice had dropped to a murmur, less teasing now, more calculating.

He glanced down at the broken shards still faintly glowing in the grass.

"...Didn’t think that would happen," he admitted.

"You never do."

Silence stretched between them like the mist. Finally, she exhaled and sat beside him, legs folded, hair swaying in the breeze.

He could tell—behind her calm, she was already calculating eight backup plans in case he exploded or summoned something from beyond the veil.

"Any strange voices whispering inside your head yet?"

She asked.

"Just yours."

"Tch. You should take lessons for that."

He grinned.

"Well, maybe."

Feng Yin snorted, flicked a pebble at him, then leaned back on her hands and tilted her head skyward.

"You’re getting smug now. I don’t like it."

"Too bad. It’s your fault, anyway. You made me like this."

"Charmer?"

She raised a brow.

"I’ll show you real Charm if you keep talking like a romance scroll."

Tian Shen smirked, letting his head tilt just enough to give her a sidelong look—languid, knowing.

"Oh? Will it involve more tales about your legs under moonlight?"

Feng Yin choked on her own breath.

"You little—!"

But her lips twitched, and she turned her face away quickly, pretending to glare at the horizon.

"That’s it. I’m gonna beat you up."

"I am stronger than you, how can you? how will you?"

She didn’t laugh, not really—but her shoulders relaxed, and the tension in her gaze softened.

"...So what now?"

She asked, quietly this time.

Tian Shen’s smile faded a bit. He watched the last wisps of spiraling Qi disappear into the mist, then clenched his hand into a loose fist.

"I don’t know," he said. "I don’t know where it leads."

"Then we’ll find out," she said, like it was the simplest thing in the world. "Together."

He turned to her.

She wasn’t teasing now. No smug quirk. No feint.

Just truth.

A pause passed—gentle, uncertain, warm.

Then Feng Yin stood, brushing her robes off like nothing had happened.

"Now get moving, breakthrough-boy. Or Elder Su’s will grill you like a Spirit Beast steak."

Tian Shen groaned.

"Do I at least get dumplings after?"

"Depends."

Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

"If you behave, I might let you eat."

"Oh no," he muttered. "You are the tribulation."

She winked.

"Correct."