Chapter 10: The Dragon Qi’s Gentle Stir and a Messenger’s Bad News
The third morning of Lin Yue’s training at the Spirit Spring brought a light breeze, carrying the sweet scent of cherry blossoms. He knelt by the water’s edge, his legs crossed in a steady meditative pose, eyes closed. For two days, he’d sat here, letting the spring’s pure qi seep into his meridians—and today, something felt different.
The qi no longer just “mixed” with his dragon qi. It weaved into it.
Long Xuan’s voice, softer than the breeze, echoed in his mind: “Focus on the thread. Feel how the spring’s qi wraps around your dragon qi like silk. Not pushing, not merging—supporting.”
Lin Yue followed the guidance. He visualized his dragon qi as a thin blue stream in his dantian, and the spring’s qi as a warmer, golden current. Instead of forcing them to blend, he let the golden current curl around the blue stream, like a vine around a branch. A faint tingle spread through his chest—subtle, but distinct. When he opened his eyes, he held up his hand: a wisp of dragon qi hovered above his palm, brighter than before, and it didn’t flicker or fade as quickly as it used to.
“Steady,” he whispered to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips. It wasn’t a leap to mid-Foundation Establishment—far from it. But it was progress. The kind of progress that would stick, that wouldn’t leave his meridians aching or his qi unsteady.
“Lin Yue!”
Xiao Yu’s voice cut through the calm. She was running toward him, her scout’s cloak flapping, a crumpled letter in her hand. Her face was pale, and her breath came in short gasps—she’d sprinted all the way from the sect’s main gate.
Lin Yue stood, brushing cherry blossom petals from his robes. “What is it? Did the Black Robe Enforcers come?”
Xiao Yu shook her head, holding out the letter. “Worse. It’s from the Golden Mountain Sect. Their messenger arrived an hour ago—said their elder refused to ally with us. He’s scared the Shadow Sect will burn their mines if they get involved.”
Lin Yue took the letter, his fingers tightening around the paper. The Golden Mountain Sect controlled most of the realm’s spirit stone mines—their support would’ve meant more resources, more cultivators to stand with Azure Cloud. “And the Iron Palm Sect? Have we heard from them?”
Xiao Yu’s shoulders drooped. “No. Their messenger never showed up. Elder Mu thinks… he thinks the Shadow Sect got to him. Maybe captured him. Maybe worse.”
Lin Yue folded the letter, tucking it into his robe. He looked back at the Spirit Spring, its water still glinting in the sunlight. The progress he’d just felt suddenly seemed trivial. What good was steady dragon qi if the other sects abandoned them? If the Azure Cloud Sect had to face the Black Robe Enforcers alone?
Long Xuan’s voice was firm, pulling him from his doubt: “Don’t let their fear dim your focus. The sects’ choices aren’t yours to bear. Your job is to keep growing—to be the strength they’re too scared to be. When they see you stand, even when all hope seems lost… they’ll follow.”
Lin Yue took a deep breath, nodding. He couldn’t change the Golden Mountain Sect’s mind. But he could keep training. He could make sure that when the Black Robe Enforcers came, he was ready to protect the people who had chosen to stand with him.
Xiao Yu stepped closer, her hand brushing his arm. “Elder Mu wants to meet with you and the inner disciples tonight. He says we need to plan our defenses—even if we’re alone. And… he wants you to show the others what you’ve learned. Not to boast, but to give them hope.”
Lin Yue hesitated. He didn’t like drawing attention to his progress, not when it was still so small. But he knew Elder Mu was right. The disciples needed to see that they weren’t just waiting to be attacked—they were preparing to fight back.
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll be there.”
Xiao Yu smiled, though it didn’t reach her eyes. She pulled a cloth pouch from her cloak and handed it to him. “Master Liu sent this. Dragon-Boosting Tea. He said it’s milder than the soup—good for sipping while you meditate. Won’t rush your qi, but will help it stay steady.”
Lin Yue took the pouch, the scent of mint and qingxin grass wafting from it. “Tell him thank you. And… thank you, too. For bringing this. For being here.”
Xiao Yu’s cheeks turned pink. She stepped back, kicking at a loose stone. “I’m just doing my job. As a scout. And as a friend.”
She turned to leave, then paused. “Be careful today. The scouts saw movement near the western woods—dark qi, faint. Could be Shadow Sect scouts, checking our defenses.”
Lin Yue nodded, his hand drifting to the hilt of his sword. “I will. I’ll stay close to the spring—won’t wander far.”
As Xiao Yu walked away, Lin Yue sat back down by the spring. He poured a handful of the tea leaves into a small clay cup (the one Xiao Yu had left for him yesterday) and filled it with spring water. The tea steeped slowly, releasing a warm, earthy aroma. He sipped it, letting the warmth spread through his chest, then closed his eyes again.
The dragon qi in his palm glowed brighter. Steady. Gentle. Growing.