Two months after reaching First Layer, Ciel discovered that cultivation had a terrible habit of becoming boring precisely when she wanted it to become exciting.
She had imagined advancement differently.
First Layer had come with pain, impurities, a broken latch, and the revelation that her body had finally stopped treating Heaven-and-Earth Qi as an enemy.
Surely Second Layer would be easier.
It was.
That did not mean it was fast.
For eight weeks, Ciel cultivated beneath the eighty-eight stars.
Worked at Voss Appraisals.
Practiced basic runes until Mara stopped looking personally offended whenever she picked up conductive ink.
Cultivated again.
Took another Clear Current Qi Nourishing Pill.
Waited until Mara decided she had processed it properly.
Worked.
Cultivated.
Studied.
Waited.
The second pill had frightened her less than the first.
The third had almost felt pleasant.
By the fourth, she could allow her pores to open beneath the medicinal effect without immediately imagining her body exploding.
Mara considered this tremendous progress.
Ciel considered Second Layer tremendous progress.
Unfortunately, Heaven appeared to agree with Mara.
For almost two weeks now, something had been gathering beyond Ciel’s First Layer.
Almost.
That was the problem.
Every night she could feel it.
Her first layer of condensed Qi had become dense and stable.
Beyond it, excess Qi accumulated, compressed, almost settled— then dispersed.
Again.
And again.
And again.
On the twelfth consecutive night of nearly succeeding, Ciel opened one eye.
“Master.” Mara remained seated on the opposite side of the cultivation array.
“No.” “I haven’t asked anything.” “You want another pill.” Ciel closed her mouth.
Mara opened one silver eye.
“Your last pill finished six days ago.” “I feel perfectly fine.” “Medicine residue is delighted to hear your medical opinion.” “I wasn’t giving a medical opinion.” “You were preparing to consume medicine without one.” Ciel sighed.
The pressure around her loosened.
Qi escaped.
Her almost-Second Layer disappeared again.
She fell backward onto the tower floor.
Above her, the stars remained offensively beautiful.
“I hate waiting.” “I know.” “What am I missing?” “Nothing.” Ciel turned her head.
“That’s worse.” Mara finally opened both eyes.
“You keep imagining a breakthrough as a locked door.” “Isn’t it?” “No.” “Then what is it?” “A condition.” Mara pointed toward her.
“Your body is learning to maintain condensed Qi.
Eventually, preserving a second layer becomes more natural than allowing that Qi to disperse.” “You are approaching that point.” “Can I make it happen faster?” “You already are.” “How?” Mara gestured around them.
Eighty-eight low-grade spirit stones glowed from their positions across the tower floor.
“Cultivation.” Ciel waited.
That appeared to be the entire answer.
“I was hoping for something more profound.” “Profound things are expensive.” Ciel returned to staring at the sky.
A green silhouette crossed the moon.
Then another.
Then five more.
They moved far faster than ordinary birds.
Even from Mara’s tower, Ciel could see faint currents of Wind Qi curling around their wings.
“Green Feather Pigeons?” “Couriers,” Mara corrected.
“Someone would become very offended if he heard you call them pigeons.” Ciel sat up.
“Who?” “Senior Dorian Rook.” “Senior?” “Foundation Establishment.” That got Ciel’s attention.
“He raises pigeons?” Mara looked at her.
Ciel immediately corrected herself.
“Couriers.” “Among other things.” Another green bird flashed across Blue Port.
“His loft carries correspondence between Blue Port and several surrounding settlements.” “Merchant houses.” “Estates.” “Mining operations.” “Organizations.” “Occasionally important people whose names sensible professionals do not discuss.” Ciel watched the bird vanish northward.
She thought about Yunior’s formation flag.
Then about the paired jade tablets at Voss Appraisals.
And Mara’s lesson.
An array was an instruction given to Qi.
Connections.
Circuits.
Resonance.
Her eyes narrowed.
Mara noticed.
“No.” “I haven’t said anything.” “You’re thinking loudly.” Ciel smiled.
The next morning, Nora used one of the paired jade tablets to summon Mara back to the shop.
Ciel had watched her do it countless times.
Until recently, the tablet had simply been an artifact.
Now she saw something else.
Inscriptions.
Circuits.
A small spirit-stone socket.
A pattern.
Nora inserted a nearly exhausted shard of low-grade spirit stone.
She pressed the central inscription.
The jade glowed.
Once.
Then went dark.
Several breaths later, it glowed again.
Mara had acknowledged the signal.
Ciel stopped writing.
“Nora.” “No.” “You don’t even know what I want.” “You’ve been staring at the tablet for almost a minute.” “I want to inspect it.” “No.” “Why?” “You started a fire with a practice board.” “It was very small.” “I like this tablet.” Ciel leaned farther across the counter.
Nora moved it away.
“How does the other one know?” “Paired jade.” “I know that.” “Then why ask?” “How?” Nora pointed toward the door.
“Ask Mara.” Ciel frowned.
Everyone in this building had learned the same defensive technique.
Mara returned two hours later.
Ciel intercepted her before she had even removed her outer robe.
“How do the tablets work?” Mara stopped.
“What tablets?” “The paired ones.” “Sympathetic resonance.” Ciel waited.
Mara attempted to walk past.
Ciel followed.
“What does that mean?” “It means they resonate sympathetically.” “That’s using the same words.” “Very observant.” “Master.” Mara sighed.
“The two tablets were originally cut from the same piece of spiritual jade.” Ciel immediately took out her notebook.
Mara’s expression soured.
“The jade was divided while its spiritual structure remained responsive.
The formations engraved afterward preserve and strengthen that connection.” “When one tablet receives the correct pulse of Qi, the paired piece reacts.” “Across distance.” “Yes.” “How far?” “Inside Blue Port reliably.” “And it only produces light?” “That is what it was designed to do.” Ciel stared at the tablet.
“Why?” Mara stared back.
“Because sometimes people only need to know they’re being summoned.” “No.” Ciel pointed at it.
“If one can transmit a change to the other, why does it have to be only light?” Mara became slightly more attentive.
“It doesn’t.” Ciel froze.
Nora stopped sorting receipts.
“It doesn’t?” “No.” “Then why can’t it transmit sound?” “Because sound and light are different things.” “I know that.” “Your question suggested otherwise.” Ciel inhaled very slowly.
Mara smiled.
Then relented.
“A simple signal carries very little information.” “Activated.” “Not activated.” “Glow.” “No glow.” “A voice changes continuously.” “Pitch.” “Volume.” “Rhythm.” “Vibration.” “You would first need something capable of responding accurately to those vibrations.” “Then a formation capable of translating them into a spiritual pattern.” “Then the paired object would need to preserve that changing pattern across distance.” “And finally the second object would have to reproduce the vibration.” Ciel’s eyes widened with every sentence.
“So it’s possible.” Mara’s expression changed.
She had made a mistake.
“Possible is not the same as easy.” “But possible.” “Ciel.” “Possible.” Mara closed her eyes.
Nora began quietly moving fragile objects farther away from Ciel.
For the next four days, Ciel became unbearable.
The first drawing in her notebook looked like this: VOICE ↓ VIBRATION ↓ RECEIVE ↓ RESONANCE ↓ OTHER SIDE ↓ VIBRATION Mara looked at it.
Then at Ciel.
“This is not an array.” “It’s a plan.” “It is six words and arrows.” “Plans begin somewhere.” Mara crossed out three of the words.
Ciel objected.
They argued.
Ciel drew another version.
Then another.
She did not attempt to invent new runes.
Mara would never have allowed it.
Instead, Ciel began combining the simple structures she already knew.
Guide.
Stabilize.
Resonate.
Receive.
Release.
Amplify.
She understood very little compared with a true Formation Master.
But she understood enough to ask questions.
Could a receiving structure respond to vibration instead of merely Qi?
Could a Wind-attributed material translate physical vibration into spiritual resonance?
Could two pieces taken from the same spiritual object preserve a changing connection better than unrelated materials?
Could the reproduced sound remain extremely weak if the artifact sat directly beside the ear?
That last question made Mara stop.
“Why beside the ear?” “So it doesn’t need to be loud.” Ciel touched her earlobe.
“If the sound only needs to travel from here to here—” She moved one finger barely a thumb’s width.
“—then we don’t need enough power to fill a room.” “Less energy.” “Less amplification.” “Less interference.” Mara stared at her.
Ciel became cautious.
“Bad?” “No.” That was worse.
Mara rarely said no that quickly.
“Interesting.” Ciel smiled.
“Don’t smile yet.” Mara tapped the diagrams.
“You still don’t have the material that captures the vibration.” “What would?” “Wind-aspected materials would be the obvious place to begin.” “Like?” Mara named three.
Ciel stopped her after hearing the prices.
“Cheaper.” Mara named two more.
Still expensive.
“Cheaper.” “A monster core.” Ciel waited.
Mara smiled.
“Spirit stones.” Ciel’s shoulders dropped.
“Grade One?” “Still spirit stones.” “But Grade One is Qi Condensation.” “And you are First Layer.” That was difficult to refute.
“A Grade One monster core can become pills,” Mara continued.
“Artifact material.” “Formation catalyst.” “Spiritual alloy.” “Flying sword component.” “Depending on the beast, food.” “Wind-attributed materials are especially useful for movement formations.” “Ships.” “Airflow.” “Lightening arrays.” “Propulsion.” Ciel thought of the green birds crossing the moon.
“Green Feather Couriers.” Mara gave her a suspicious look.
“Why are you suddenly calling them correctly?” “Senior Dorian Rook.” “Good survival instinct.” “Would their cores work?” “Very likely.” “They’re Grade One.” “Yes.” “Wind-attributed.” “Yes.” “And paired resonance might work better if I split one core into two pieces.” Mara went quiet.
Ciel leaned forward.
“Right?” “Possibly.” That was as close to praise as she was getting.
“But don’t buy a pristine core.” “Why?” “Because you don’t need one.” Mara tapped the drawing.
“You aren’t interested in stored Qi.” “You’re interested in the Wind nature and whatever resonance structure remains.” Ciel understood immediately.
“So damaged.” “Depleted.” “Old.” “Cracked.” “Something an alchemist wouldn’t want.” “Or a refiner would discount.” Mara nodded.
“Now you’re thinking like someone with limited money.” Ciel smiled.
“I learned from the best.” Mara chose to interpret that as praise.
Elena knew where Dorian Rook’s courier loft was.
More importantly, Elena knew how Ciel was supposed to behave there.
“Don’t call them pigeons.” “I know.” “Don’t ask what beasts he owns.” “I know.” “Don’t ask how much money he makes.” “I wasn’t going to.” “Don’t tell him what you’re making.” Ciel looked at her.
“Why?” Elena stopped walking.
“Because you don’t know him.” That answer was simple enough to make Ciel feel slightly foolish.
Elena continued.
“You say you need a material.” “You give the specifications.” “If he asks the purpose, artifact refinement.” “If he asks what artifact…” She shrugged.
“Personal experiment.” “And if he keeps asking?” “He’s Foundation Establishment.” Ciel waited.
Elena sighed.
“You remain polite.” “Information has value too.” They resumed walking.
After another street, Elena suddenly spoke again.
“Did you hear about the Gray Ash mine?” “No.” “A miner found a piece of Spirit Jade three days ago.” “Isn’t that good?” Elena glanced at her.
“Depends.” “How large?” “Rumor says over a hundred jin.” Ciel stopped.
“A hundred?” “Yesterday someone told me one hundred and thirty.” “Tomorrow it’ll be two hundred.” “Probably.” Ciel laughed.
Elena did not.
“They found him dead yesterday.” The laughter disappeared.
“Where?” “You remember the tea house we went to last month?” Ciel did.
Small courtyard.
Cheap tea.
Three Green Trail members arguing over whether a Marsh Lizard counted as edible.
“Near there?” “Two streets away.” “What happened to the jade?” “Gone.” “The cart?” “Gone.” “The draft horse?” “Gone.” “The escorts?” “There weren’t any.” Ciel frowned.
“He found something that valuable and moved it alone?” “He wasn’t alone when he found it.” Elena looked ahead.
“That was probably the problem.” Ciel understood.
“Too many people knew.” “I heard about the Spirit Jade before I heard he was dead.” That silenced her.
Ciel glanced around the busy street.
Merchants.
Carts.
Cultivators.
Mortals.
City guards in the distance.
“Nobody saw anything?” “Nobody who wants to admit it.” “A wagon carrying that much jade doesn’t vanish.” “No.” Elena’s expression remained neutral.
“But people are very good at forgetting what they saw when remembering might get them killed.” Ciel thought about the bronze-green ring on her finger.
Mara’s warning returned immediately.
Do not show it to another appraiser.
Do not force it.
Do not let people know it might be valuable.
Elena continued walking.
“For someone at Third Layer, that much Spirit Jade wasn’t treasure anymore.” Ciel followed.
“What was it?” Elena looked at her.
“A death sentence with wheels.” Ciel was quiet for several steps.
“Then finding valuable things can be bad luck.” “Finding them?” Elena shook her head.
“Not necessarily.” “Letting everyone know you found them?” “That can be very bad luck.” Ciel looked down at her notebook bag.
The diagrams inside suddenly felt more private than they had yesterday.
Elena noticed.
“Now you understand why I told you not to explain your artifact to strangers.” Ciel nodded.
This time, she did not argue.
The Green Feather Courier Loft occupied a large estate near Blue Port’s northern edge.
Three tall wooden towers rose above the outer walls.
Green Feather Couriers perched along roofs, beams, rails, and specially constructed platforms.
Some were barely larger than ordinary pigeons.
Others were enormous.
One spread its wings above them.
Wind-attributed Qi gathered around the feathers.
With one beat, the bird shot across the compound so quickly Ciel’s eyes struggled to follow it.
“That’s incredible.” Elena smiled.
“Now imagine trying to hunt one.” Ciel reconsidered the value of its core.
They did not meet Dorian Rook.
They did not even enter the inner courtyard.
A steward received them beneath a covered reception area near the front.
Middle-aged.
Gray robe.
Five clear layers of condensed Qi surrounded his body.
Ciel immediately clasped her hands.
“Senior.” The steward’s eyes moved over her.
First Layer.
Then Elena.
Second.
His expression remained polite.
Barely.
“What business brings the two juniors to Green Feather Courier Loft?” Ciel had practiced.
“This junior seeks a damaged or depleted Grade One Wind-attributed monster core.” The steward’s eyebrow moved slightly.
“The remaining stored Qi may be poor.
This junior mainly requires its Wind nature and spiritual resonance to remain stable.” Now he actually looked at her.
“For alchemy?” “Artifact refinement.” “What artifact?” Ciel remembered the dead miner.
“A small personal experiment.” The steward waited.
Ciel lowered her head slightly.
“This junior hopes Senior will forgive her for keeping the method private.” No anger.
No insult.
If anything, the steward seemed marginally less dismissive.
“Wait.” He disappeared through the inner doors.
Ciel released a breath.
“Was that right?” Elena whispered: “Good.” “Why am I sweating?” “Because he’s only Fifth Layer and you’re imagining the Foundation senior behind him.” “Correct.” They waited.
And waited.
Ciel began counting green birds.
Twenty-three.
Thirty-one.
Forty— From somewhere well inside the estate came a voice.
A very loud voice.
“WHAAAT?” Ciel jumped.
Several couriers took flight.
The steward answered something too quietly for them to hear.
Then: “FIRST- AND SECOND-LAYER TRASH WANT ONE OF MY COURIERS’ CORES?” Ciel slowly turned toward Elena.
Elena stared straight ahead.
“SEND THEM AWAY AT ONCE!” A pause.
“DON’T BOTHER THIS SENIOR WITH SUCH NONSENSE!” Then an audible: “HMPH!” Silence.
Ciel’s face grew hot.
Elena’s lips twitched.
“Don’t.” Ciel whispered.
“I’m not.” “You are.” “I’m absolutely not.” The steward returned moments later.
His expression was perfectly composed.
“Senior Rook has declined the transaction.” Ciel stared at him.
Yes.
We gathered that.
She clasped her hands instead.
“This junior understands.” Elena did the same.
“We apologize for disturbing Senior Rook.” The steward nodded.
He began escorting them toward the gate.
Ciel remained silent until Elena slowed.
Her hand disappeared into her sleeve.
When it emerged, she held a small cloth pouch.
She stepped closer to the steward.
“Senior.” The pouch vanished between their sleeves so smoothly that Ciel nearly missed it.
Nearly.
The steward’s fingers closed around it.
Gold shifted softly inside.
His expression changed.
Not much.
But enough.
Elena smiled pleasantly.
“We wouldn’t wish to waste Senior Rook’s valuable time again.” “Naturally.” “Perhaps Senior could advise two inexperienced juniors.” The steward felt the pouch.
His smile became warmer.
“What sort of advice?” “Does Senior Rook have any particular interests?” Ciel stared at her.
Elena continued as though nothing unusual had happened.
“Something a thoughtful junior might bring when requesting a favor.” The steward glanced toward the inner compound.
Then lowered his voice.
“Master has little need for ordinary gold.” Elena nodded as though that had never been the point.
“But…” The pouch disappeared into his sleeve.
“Master is fond of good Spirit Wine.” Ciel’s eyes changed.
“If you happen to find some, he may view your request more favorably.” Elena asked: “Any particular kind?” The steward shook his head.
“Master has refined tastes.” “Bring good wine.” He paused.
“Of course, I have promised nothing.” Elena bowed.
“Of course.” They left.
Only after the outer gate closed did Ciel turn toward her.
“You bribed him.” Elena looked offended.
“I thanked him.” “You thanked him before he helped us.” “I was optimistic.” “You gave him gold.” “He gave us information.” “That’s bribery.” “That’s Blue Port.” Ciel considered this.
“…How much?” Elena smiled.
“Enough.” Mara was infecting everyone.
Finding a gathering that sold Spirit Wine was easy.
Being welcome there was not.
Two days later, Elena led Ciel through a private courtyard behind one of the larger cultivator taverns near the harbor.
A temporary wooden sign outside read: SPIRIT WINE EXCHANGE There were no prices in silver.
No prices in gold.
The first conversation Ciel overheard involved six low-grade spirit stones for a young jar.
The second involved twelve stones and a medicinal root.
The third involved someone refusing twenty-eight stones for an older sealed wine because he wanted a Grade One monster core instead.
Ciel slowed.
“Elena.” “Hm?” “We don’t belong here.” “I know.” Most cultivators Ciel could read had seven, eight, or nine condensed Qi layers.
Then there were the others.
No layers.
At first, Ciel’s old instincts wanted to classify them as mortals.
Her body refused.
A man in plain blue robes passed nearby.
Nothing surrounded him.
Yet as he approached, Ciel’s First Layer tightened against her skin.
The Qi inside her reservoir stirred.
Restless.
Uneasy.
Her pores prickled.
Her breathing became slightly heavier.
Without knowing why, her body wanted to step aside before her mind made the decision.
Elena touched her sleeve.
“Don’t stare.” Ciel lowered her voice.
“I can’t see his layers.” “Exactly.” The man passed.
Only several steps later did the pressure ease.
“Foundation Establishment?” Elena nodded.
Ciel looked back only with her eyes.
Nothing visible.
But now that she knew what to notice, the difference was enormous.
Qi Condensation surrounded the body with condensed layers.
Foundation Establishment felt denser.
Contained.
Structured.
As though the Qi had stopped merely clinging to flesh and had become part of a complete internal architecture.
Another layerless woman stood beside a wine table.
Ciel stayed farther away.
Even at several steps, her own Qi shifted uneasily.
Others naturally gave the woman room.
Conversations softened as she approached.
Several Late Qi cultivators clasped their hands.
“Senior.” “Greetings, Senior.” No one needed to announce her realm.
The room already knew.
A broad man suddenly blocked Ciel and Elena’s path.
Bald.
Thick arms.
Dark brown robes.
Eight visible Qi layers surrounded him.
He looked at Elena.
Then Ciel.
Then toward the entrance.
“Are you lost, children?” Ciel stiffened.
The bald cultivator waved one heavy hand.
“This is a Spirit Wine gathering.” “Not a place to play.” Ciel opened her mouth.
Elena stepped on her foot.
Hard.
Ciel closed it.
Elena clasped her hands respectfully.
“Senior misunderstands.” The bald man snorted.
“Do I?” “This junior and her companion came precisely to purchase Spirit Wine.” His gaze moved over their cultivation again.
“With what?” Ciel felt her face heat.
Elena only smiled.
“More importantly…” The bald man’s eyebrow rose.
“This junior heard that Senior possesses exceptional knowledge of Spirit Wine.” Ciel slowly turned her head toward Elena.
Elena did not look at her.
“That among the wine sellers and collectors of Blue Port, few can compare with Senior’s palate.” The man’s shoulders straightened.
“Is that so?” “Naturally.” Elena bowed slightly deeper.
“We are inexperienced.” “We hoped Senior might be willing to recommend something suitable.” The man’s cheeks became faintly red.
Ciel almost stared.
He stroked his bare chin.
“Hoh.” His expression transformed.
“So even juniors like you have heard of this senior’s reputation?” Elena smiled.
“How could we not?” “Hahahaha!” His booming laughter drew several glances.
He slapped the table.
“Good!” “Good!” “At least the younger generation has not completely lost its judgment!” Two breaths earlier he had wanted them outside.
Now he personally pulled two stools forward.
“Come!” “If you’ve come seeking proper wine, you’ve come to the right person.” He spread one arm toward the collection behind him.
“This senior will show you what real Spirit Wine is!” Elena sat.
Ciel followed.
Slowly.
She leaned toward her friend.
“How?” Elena whispered without moving her lips: “Later.” The bald senior became unstoppable.
“This one.” He raised a green ceramic jar shaped like a small gourd.
“Young Cloud Pear.” “Clean Wood essence.” “Barely aged.” “Useful after exhausting cultivation, but nothing extraordinary.” “Five low-grade spirit stones.” He put it aside.
Then lifted a black jar.
“Fire Plum.” “Seven years.” “Strong.” “Good Qi.” “Terrible finish.” “The brewer thinks more Spirit Fruit excuses poor craftsmanship.” Senior Bao scoffed.
“It does not.” Another jar.
“Twelve stones.” Another.
“Overpriced.” Another.
“Beautiful vessel.” “Bad wine.” Another.
“Excellent medicinal properties.” “Poor aroma.” Ciel took out her notebook.
The man noticed.
His chest expanded.
“Good.” “Write this down.” Ciel obeyed.
A passing cultivator laughed.
“Teaching children now, Old Bao?” The bald senior glared.
“Unlike you, some of us care whether the next generation remains civilized.” The other cultivator laughed harder and continued walking.
That was how Ciel learned his name.
Senior Bao.
He immediately returned to his lecture.
“Spirit Wine is not medicine poured into alcohol.” “Spirit Fruit.” “Spirit Water.” “Fermentation.” “Temperature.” “Storage.” “Vessels.” “Qi environment.” “Age.” “All matter.” He tapped one jar.
“A decent Grade One Spirit Fruit alone might cost one, three, five stones depending on what it is.” “A proper batch uses several.” Ciel blinked.
“Several?” “Naturally.” “You think one fruit fills seven jars?” Ciel decided not to answer.
Senior Bao snorted.
“A brewer spends Spirit Fruits, Spirit Water, formation maintenance, storage space, years of time, and accepts that some batches will fail.” He pointed toward one of the cheaper jars.
“Then some ignorant junior sees five stones and complains.” He folded his arms.
“Make it yourself, then.” Ciel immediately revised several assumptions she had made about Spirit Wine.
“Five stones might buy a young, mediocre Grade One wine.” “Ten for a properly aged half-liter jar is common enough.” “Good older jars?” He shrugged.
“Thirty.” “Forty.” “More.” “Reputation costs money too.” Elena looked at Ciel.
“You still want wine?” Ciel whispered: “Less than before.” Senior Bao heard her.
“Hahahaha!” At least he appreciated honesty now.
“You truly came here without knowing prices?” “We knew they were expensive,” Elena admitted.
“You didn’t know how expensive.” “No, Senior.” “Excellent.” Bao smiled broadly.
“At least fools willing to admit ignorance can still be taught.” He lifted another vessel.
“Do not touch this one.” Ciel immediately withdrew her hand.
“Why?” “Eighth Layer minimum.” “Why?” “Because your meridians are currently inside your body.” Ciel waited.
Senior Bao added: “Presumably you’d like them to remain there.” Ciel moved her stool farther from the jar.
Senior Bao nodded approvingly.
“Good survival instinct.” They continued.
Five stones.
Nine.
Thirteen.
Twenty-two.
Thirty-five.
Ciel finally understood why Early Qi cultivators almost never attended gatherings like this.
They were not forbidden.
They simply had no reason to be here.
Then Senior Bao stopped.
At the far end of the table sat an unremarkable ceramic wine gourd.
Dark blue.
No famous seal.
No elaborate jade case.
No beautiful calligraphy.
Only a waxed stopper and a faded paper tag with several numbers written by hand.
Senior Bao frowned.
“This one.” He turned it in his hands.
“Odd.” “Bad?” Elena asked.
Senior Bao looked personally insulted.
“If it were bad, it would not be on my table.” “Unknown brewer.” “No estate mark.” “No recognized vineyard.” “A traveler sold it three days ago.” Ciel noticed the weight.
“Not full?” “Half.” Bao replied.
Then added defensively: “I inspected it.” Elena looked at the size of the vessel.
“Repeatedly?” Senior Bao ignored her.
He loosened the wax.
Pulled the stopper.
The fragrance reached Ciel.
Fruit.
Ripe.
Sweet.
A little sharp.
Then— Qi.
Her body reacted before her mind did.
Every pore opened.
Her First Layer snapped tight against her skin.
The Qi inside her reservoir surged into motion.
The unstable pressure that had been gathering for almost two weeks compressed so suddenly that Ciel forgot to breathe.
Her fingers trembled.
The room sharpened.
Ambient Qi suddenly seemed close.
Available.
Inviting.
Her entire body wanted— more.
One thought appeared with absolute certainty.
This one.
Ciel grabbed Elena’s sleeve.
“This one.” Elena turned.
“What?” “This one.” “You know it?” “No.” “Have you heard of it?” “No.” “Then how—” “My Qi.” Ciel swallowed.
“It’s moving.” Elena’s expression changed.
Senior Bao was watching her now.
Ciel’s breathing had deepened.
The unfinished Second Layer pressed closer than it ever had before.
Senior Bao laughed.
“Hahaha!” He resealed the wine.
The effect immediately weakened.
Ciel almost protested.
“At least the little junior’s body has some sense.” Senior Bao tapped the ceramic gourd.
“Unknown name.” “Unknown maker.” “But the wine itself is respectable.” He considered it.
“Properly aged.” “Clean fermentation.” “Good fruit essence.” “Strong enough to matter to Late Qi cultivators.” “Not enough left here for anyone sensible to use as serious breakthrough medicine.” “But as wine?” He nodded.
“Good.” Ciel looked at Elena.
Elena understood.
“How much?” “Five low-grade spirit stones.” Ciel’s stomach sank.
Five.
Not gold.
Spirit stones.
Cultivation.
Medicine.
Materials.
Months of opportunities.
She looked at the half-filled wine gourd.
Then at Elena.
“We should keep looking.” Elena did not move.
“Why?” “Because that’s five spirit stones.” “I heard him.” “We don’t have five spirit stones.” Elena was silent.
Then she reached inside her robe.
One low-grade spirit stone touched the table.
Ciel stared.
A second followed.
Then a third.
“Elena.” A fourth.
“Elena.” The fifth landed beside the others.
Elena’s hand came away empty.
Ciel stared at the stones.
Then at her.
“Those are your savings.” “Yes.” “All of them?” A pause.
“Most.” Ciel narrowed her eyes.
“All of them.” Elena sighed.
“Fine.” “All of them.” “No.” Elena blinked.
“What?” “We are not spending everything you have on my idea.” “Your idea?” Elena pointed at herself.
“Who is the second earring for?” Ciel stopped.
Elena tapped her chest.
“Me.” “That’s not the point.” “That’s exactly the point.” “We don’t know if this works.” “I know.” “The core might be useless.” “I know.” “The wine might not convince Dorian.” “I know.” “We might destroy the core trying to make the first pair.” “I know.” Ciel stared at her.
“Then why?” Elena looked genuinely confused.
“Because I want the earring.” Ciel opened her mouth.
Elena continued.
“You bring the idea.” “You do the work.” “You have Mara.” “Hopefully, you get the core.” “I’m paying for my half.” “Five spirit stones isn’t half.” “It’s the half I can contribute.” Ciel looked down.
Five stones.
Months of Elena taking gathering contracts.
Hunting.
Walking outside Blue Port’s walls.
Risking herself for herbs and monster parts.
Saving for medicine.
Weapons.
Emergencies.
Advancement.
All of it now sat on a wine seller’s table because Ciel had looked at a glowing jade tablet and asked why it could not carry a voice.
Senior Bao watched them.
For once, he said nothing.
Ciel lowered her voice.
“If it fails…” Elena shrugged.
“Then you’ll owe me.” “Five spirit stones?” “With interest.” Ciel stared.
Elena smiled.
“Now you understand why I need it to work.” Ciel almost laughed.
Instead she said: “I’ll pay you back.” “If it works.” “Even if it doesn’t.” Elena considered.
“Fine.” “With interest.” “You’re becoming Mara.” “That’s insulting.” Senior Bao cleared his throat.
Both girls looked at him.
“Are you buying my wine or arranging a marriage?” Ciel’s face went red.
Elena shoved the five stones toward him.
“Buying.” Senior Bao swept them away.
“Good.” Ciel looked at Elena.
“You didn’t even haggle.” Elena stared at the wine.
“This time, I don’t want him to sell it to someone else while I argue over copper.” That was disturbingly sensible.
Senior Bao wrapped the gourd personally.
As he handed it over, his eyes moved toward Ciel.
“Gift?” Ciel hesitated.
Then nodded.
“For a senior.” “Good.” Bao’s expression became serious.
“Do not drink it.” “I wasn’t planning to.” “You looked at it like you wanted to climb inside the jar.” Ciel flushed.
“At First Layer, a proper mouthful could damage you.” “One sip?” “Depends how stupidly large you think a sip is.” Ciel decided not to investigate further.
Bao pointed toward her.
“The fragrance alone pushed your pores open.” “You’re close to Second Layer.” Ciel’s eyes widened.
He had noticed.
Elena immediately said: “Senior truly has remarkable eyes.” Bao’s chest rose.
“Naturally.” Ciel looked at Elena.
That worked far too easily.
As they walked away, Ciel whispered: “You did it again.” “What?” “Compliments.” Elena shrugged.
“He insulted our cultivation for ten breaths and spent twenty correcting another man’s description of wine.” “So?” “Proud people usually tell you where the door is.” Ciel thought about that.
Arrays had nodes.
Circuits.
Places where the correct pressure produced a response.
Apparently people did too.
Interesting.
The following afternoon, Ciel and Elena returned to Green Feather Courier Loft.
The same steward received them.
His eyes moved immediately toward the wrapped ceramic gourd.
Then back to their faces.
“Business?” Ciel clasped her hands.
“This junior wished to respectfully renew yesterday’s request.” The steward’s gaze returned to the package.
Elena smiled.
“A small courtesy gift for Senior Rook.” The steward accepted it with both hands.
He loosened part of the wrapping.
A trace of the wine’s fragrance escaped through the wax.
His eyebrows rose.
“Wait here.” This time, they waited less than five minutes.
The inner doors opened.
The steward returned.
“Senior Rook will receive you.” Ciel looked at Elena.
Elena kept her expression perfectly straight.
They followed.
The farther they went into the compound, the quieter Ciel became.
Then, before they entered the reception hall— her Qi moved.
Ciel stopped for half a heartbeat.
Her First Layer tightened.
The Qi inside her became restless.
Not violently.
But unmistakably.
Something lay ahead.
Something dense.
Elena glanced at her.
Ciel continued walking.
They crossed the threshold.
Dorian Rook sat beside a low table overlooking the central flight courtyard.
No Qi layers surrounded him.
None.
But Ciel would never have mistaken him for a mortal.
His presence filled the room without expanding beyond his body.
His Qi felt contained.
Dense.
Structured.
As though everything Ciel laboriously held around her skin had been drawn inward and built into something far more complete.
Her own Qi reacted simply from being near him.
The First Layer pressed against her skin.
Her pores tingled.
Her breathing became slightly heavier.
Dorian was not threatening them.
He was not deliberately releasing his cultivation.
If anything, he appeared restrained.
And still her body understood the disparity.
Foundation Establishment.
For the first time, those words meant more than the realm after Ninth Layer.
Ciel and Elena stopped several steps away.
They clasped their hands.
“This junior greets Senior Rook.” Dorian barely nodded.
Gray-green robes.
Long hair tied neatly behind him.
Sharp eyes.
Nothing about him appeared physically intimidating.
It did not need to.
His attention moved to the wine.
The steward placed it before him.
“A courtesy gift from the two juniors.” Dorian picked up the ceramic gourd.
Turned it once.
No recognition appeared in his eyes.
He loosened the seal.
The fruity fragrance escaped.
Ciel immediately felt it again.
Her pores opened.
Qi surged.
The incomplete Second Layer compressed.
She carefully controlled her breathing.
Dorian inhaled.
Once.
Then again.
His eyebrows rose slightly.
A slow nod.
“Good Spirit Wine.” He looked at Ciel.
Then Elena.
For the first time, he smiled.
“Good.” “Good.” “It is reassuring to see talented juniors like you in Blue Port.” Ciel almost turned toward Elena.
She stopped herself.
Yesterday we were trash.
Dorian gestured toward the cushions.
“Sit.” “There is no need for promising young cultivators to remain standing.” Yesterday we weren’t allowed through the door.
Ciel sat.
Politely.
Dorian poured a small amount into a cup.
Not for them.
For himself.
He tasted it.
His smile deepened.
“Very good.” Ciel bowed her head.
“Senior praises it.” “Where did you find this?” “At a Spirit Wine gathering.” “Brewer?” “Unknown.” Dorian examined the gourd again.
“Interesting.” He took another small sip.
Then his gaze shifted to them.
“This amount of wine was not cheap.” Elena answered carefully.
“Senior’s steward was kind enough to mention that Senior appreciates good wine.” Dorian glanced toward the steward.
The steward suddenly looked very interested in the courtyard.
Dorian snorted.
Then smiled.
“Indeed.” He set the cup down.
“This senior may enjoy wine, but I have not fallen so low as to take valuable cultivation resources from two Early Qi juniors and send them away empty-handed.” Ciel blinked.
Dorian looked toward her.
“Your request.” She straightened.
“This junior seeks—” “I remember.” He waved one hand.
“A damaged Grade One Wind core.” “Stored Qi unimportant.” “Wind nature intact.” “Stable resonance.” Ciel nodded.
“Yes, Senior.” Dorian considered the wine once more.
“A gift deserves a return gift.” There was something deliberate in the way he said it.
Not negotiation.
Not charity.
A statement of how things were supposed to be done.
He turned toward the steward.
“Bring the blackwood box.” The steward bowed.
Ciel glanced at Elena.
Elena did not react.
But Ciel remembered the dead miner.
Reputation.
Witnesses.
Strength.
Rules.
Dorian could have taken their wine.
Nothing in the room could stop him.
But being able to do something was apparently not the same as being able to do it without consequence.
Dorian noticed her expression.
“What?” Ciel immediately lowered her gaze.
“Nothing, Senior.” “Good.” He poured another cup.
Then added almost lazily: “A cultivator who cannot protect his reputation will eventually discover that even strength becomes inconvenient.” Ciel remembered that sentence.
Before she could think further— a loud quack sounded outside.
Dorian froze.
The steward froze.
Three attendants in the courtyard simultaneously looked toward the sky.
One muttered: “Again.” Ciel looked at Elena.
Elena looked toward the open screen.
A pressure entered the courtyard.
Hot.
Ciel’s Qi recoiled.
Her First Layer shivered.
Then a large red shadow crossed above them.
Dorian stood.
“No.” The Crimson Duck descended.
It was enormous.
Deep crimson feathers.
Golden edges along its wings.
Fire-attributed Qi rolled visibly around its body.
And the woman riding it— Ciel felt her before she properly saw her.
No layers.
Foundation Establishment.
Her presence differed from Dorian’s.
Where his Qi felt compressed and sharp, hers carried heat and weight.
Ciel’s pores tightened.
The Qi inside her churned.
Two Foundation Establishment cultivators.
One courtyard.
The Crimson Duck spread its wings.
Dorian’s face darkened.
“Don’t you—” The beast landed.
Its wings slammed downward.
A ring of blazing Fire Qi burst outward across the courtyard.
Green Feather Couriers scattered in outrage.
Several beautiful green tail feathers blackened at the tips.
The wave reached the reception hall.
Ciel’s First Layer rippled.
For a heartbeat, she nearly lost control of it.
Elena took half a step backward.
Dorian did not move.
A tiny strand of Fire Qi caught the front of his hair.
Smoke curled upward.
Ciel stopped breathing.
The woman dismounted.
She wore crimson robes and the expression of someone who had achieved exactly what she intended.
She looked at the birds.
Then at Dorian’s smoking hair.
Then smiled.
“Oops.” She stroked the Crimson Duck’s neck.
“Sometimes my ducks are simply too strong.” Dorian touched his hair.
Silence.
Ciel looked at Elena.
Elena gave the smallest possible shake of her head.
Do not move.
Dorian smiled.
That was worse.
“Beatrice.” “Dorian.” He raised two fingers.
One of the Green Feather Couriers landed on the railing beside him.
Wind Qi gathered along its wings.
The air tightened.
Ciel’s own Qi instinctively pressed toward her skin.
The courier snapped one wing.
A razor-thin blade of compressed Wind Qi suddenly shot across the courtyard.
Fast.
Sharp.
Beatrice’s eyes widened.
The Wind Qi blade passed less than a finger’s width from her forehead.
A strand of red hair drifted toward the ground.
Then another.
Then another.
Beatrice slowly lifted one hand to her bangs.
One side now ended noticeably higher than the other.
Dorian examined his handiwork.
“My apologies.” He stroked the Green Feather Courier.
“Sometimes my couriers are simply too precise.” Ciel’s mouth opened.
Elena grabbed her wrist.
Fire-attributed Qi gathered around Beatrice’s fingers.
The temperature rose.
Ciel’s incomplete Second Layer scattered immediately.
Dorian’s sleeves began to move.
Wind Qi gathered around him.
The spiritual pressure in the courtyard thickened.
Ciel’s own circulation became restless.
Neither Foundation cultivator was targeting her.
Neither was even looking at her.
Their casual gathering of Qi alone made her body scream that she did not belong between them.
A worker calmly walked into the courtyard.
He picked up Beatrice’s severed hair.
Then several burned feathers.
He sighed.
“Again.” Ciel stared.
Beatrice pointed at Dorian.
“That took four years to grow properly.” Dorian pointed toward one of his couriers.
“Those tail feathers took three.” “They grow back.” “So does hair.” “Not evenly.” “Neither do tail feathers!” Beatrice flicked one finger.
A needle-thin streak of compressed Fire Qi shot toward Dorian’s face.
Dorian tilted his head.
Before the flame could reach him, a twisting current of Wind Qi seized it, bent its path aside, and scattered it harmlessly against the courtyard stones.
Dorian answered with another narrow blade of Wind Qi.
Beatrice rotated one wrist.
A curved sheet of Fire Qi appeared before her.
The Wind blade struck it.
The two energies twisted against one another for an instant before dispersing into hot air.
Ciel leaned toward Elena.
“Are they fighting?” “I don’t know.” “You know Blue Port.” “Not this part.” “Should we leave?” “We haven’t been dismissed.” Ciel hated that Elena was right.
Then Beatrice stopped.
Her nose moved.
Once.
Again.
Her eyes narrowed.
“What is that?” Dorian immediately covered the wine gourd with one hand.
“Nothing concerning you.” Beatrice looked toward the table.
“Spirit Wine.” “Congratulations.” She approached.
With every step, Ciel felt that dense Foundation presence move closer.
Dorian shifted the gourd away.
“Leave.” Beatrice ignored him.
“What wine?” “Mine.” Ciel and Elena exchanged a glance.
Technically— yes.
Now.
Beatrice leaned closer.
Dorian narrowed his eyes.
“Do not.” She inhaled.
Her expression changed.
Only slightly.
But Dorian noticed.
“So?” Beatrice folded her arms.
“Acceptable.” Dorian stared.
“Acceptable?” “Perhaps above average.” “You crossed my wall on a duck because you smelled above average wine?” “Your wall is low.” “You burned Silver-Four!” “Three feathers.” “Four.” “One was already damaged.” “You—” Beatrice reached for the wine.
Dorian moved it away.
“Pour me a cup.” “No.” “Afraid I’ll identify its flaws?” Dorian became very still.
Ciel closed her eyes briefly.
Even she knew that was a trap.
Dorian immediately reached for another cup.
“Flaws?” He poured.
“You wouldn’t recognize refinement if someone drowned you in it.” Beatrice sat without being invited.
“This from a man who thinks fermented pear water counts as Spirit Wine.” “That was twenty-two years ago.” “And still funny.” Dorian pushed the cup toward her.
“Drink.” She did.
Both watched one another.
Beatrice swallowed.
Paused.
“Hm.” Dorian smiled.
“Well?” “Needs another year.” “Nonsense.” “Two, perhaps.” “You don’t even know what fruit it uses.” “Neither do you.” “I do.” “Name it.” Dorian paused.
Beatrice smiled.
“Another cup.” “You are stealing my wine.” “Afraid you can’t keep up?” Dorian’s eyes narrowed.
“Keep up?” He stood.
“Five cups.” “Seven.” “At your age?” Beatrice’s Fire Qi flared.
Ciel’s First Layer shuddered.
“At least my hair was intact this morning.” Dorian smiled.
“Was.” Beatrice’s expression turned murderous.
Then she grabbed the wine gourd.
Dorian grabbed it too.
They stared at one another.
“Release it.” “You release it.” “It’s mine.” “It arrived because I smelled it.” “That is not how property works.” “It should be.” The steward approached carefully.
“Senior…” Both Foundation cultivators looked at him.
He stopped.
Dorian released the gourd first.
“Bring the cups.” Beatrice smiled victoriously.
“Seven.” “Ten.” “Now you’re compensating.” “Walk.” They started toward the adjoining courtyard.
Still arguing.
Beatrice’s Crimson Duck followed.
Three Green Feather Couriers followed Dorian.
Their oppressive Qi moved with them.
Only after both Foundation cultivators had gone several dozen steps did Ciel realize how tense her shoulders had become.
Her own Qi gradually settled.
Dorian stopped.
Turned.
Ciel’s circulation twitched again.
He pointed toward the steward.
“The blackwood box.” “Give it to the juniors.” Ciel’s eyes widened.
Dorian looked at her.
“The core inside is worth somewhat more than the wine.” Ciel immediately began to speak.
“Senior, this junior—” Dorian raised one hand.
“Do not embarrass me.” Ciel stopped.
Dorian’s expression was perfectly serious.
“If word spread that Dorian Rook accepted good Spirit Wine from two Second-rate—” He paused.
Ciel stared.
Dorian coughed.
“—promising juniors and returned something worth less, Beatrice would laugh for twenty years.” From the courtyard came Beatrice’s voice.
“THIRTY!” Dorian’s eye twitched.
Ciel looked down before he saw her smile.
Dorian continued: “Consider the difference a senior’s appreciation.” Ciel clasped her hands deeply.
“This junior thanks Senior Rook.” “Good.” Then he looked at Elena.
“Good Spirit Wine.” Elena bowed.
“Senior praises us.” Dorian nodded approvingly.
“Talented juniors.” Then he continued walking.
Beatrice called from ahead: “Are your talented juniors old enough to know you called them trash yesterday?” Silence.
Ciel’s soul left her body.
Dorian’s head turned very slowly.
Elena looked at the floor.
The steward suddenly found the ceiling fascinating.
Beatrice laughed.
Dorian flicked two fingers.
A fresh blade of compressed Wind Qi shot across the courtyard.
Beatrice ducked.
Another piece of her already ruined fringe floated down.
“YOU—” Fire Qi erupted around her feet.
She chased him.
Dorian ran.
A Foundation Establishment cultivator actually ran.
The Crimson Duck quacked and followed.
Ciel stared after them.
Then at Elena.
Then at the steward.
“Are they always like this?” The steward considered.
“No.” Ciel relaxed.
“Usually Senior Beatrice comes through the eastern wall.” The blackwood box was small.
Far too small for something that had required five spirit stones, a bribe, two humiliations, and a Spirit Wine gathering.
The steward placed it on the table.
Ciel opened it carefully.
Inside rested a monster core roughly the size of a large walnut.
Pale green.
Cloudy.
A fracture crossed one side.
It did not radiate overwhelming Qi.
Most of the energy that might once have made it valuable to an alchemist had faded.
Yet when Ciel moved her hand near it— air stirred against her fingertips.
Very faintly.
Wind nature.
Still there.
Ciel did not touch it.
“May this junior inspect it with Qi?” The steward nodded.
“Lightly.” Ciel sent the smallest thread forward.
The core responded.
Not by absorbing her Qi.
By moving it.
Her thread curled.
Bent.
Flowed along the fracture as though caught inside a tiny current.
Ciel’s pulse quickened.
This.
This could work.
Perhaps.
Maybe.
Hopefully.
She withdrew her Qi.
The steward watched her close the box.
“This core belonged to one of Master’s old couriers.” Ciel looked up.
“How old?” The steward smiled faintly.
“Old enough.” Ciel immediately understood the boundary.
He was not going to tell her more.
She clasped her hands.
“Please thank Senior Rook again.” The steward nodded.
“Senior places great importance on reputation.” Ciel glanced toward the courtyard.
Dorian and Beatrice could still be heard arguing loudly about whether the wine contained plum.
“The core really is worth more?” “Somewhat.” “Then why not give us something exactly equal?” The steward looked almost amused.
“Would you respect a Foundation Establishment senior who weighed every grain against two Early Qi juniors?” Ciel thought.
“No.” “Neither would anyone else.” He gestured toward the box.
“Senior gives slightly more.” “Everyone leaves satisfied.” “His reputation remains intact.” Ciel hesitated.
“Does everyone care that much?” “No.” The steward’s expression became flatter.
“Some people care only when witnesses are present.” Ciel remembered the dead miner.
The missing cart.
The Spirit Jade nobody could find.
The steward looked at her face.
Whatever he saw there made him nod once.
“You are learning.” Ciel and Elena walked most of the way back in silence.
Ciel carried the blackwood box.
Elena carried substantially less wealth than she had that morning.
Finally, Ciel spoke.
“I’m paying you back.” “I know.” “All five stones.” Elena looked at her.
“You don’t have five spirit stones.” “Eventually.” “With interest?” Ciel sighed.
“With interest.” Elena smiled.
“Good.” They walked another dozen steps.
Ciel looked down at the box.
“It bothers me.” “What?” “That someone can just kill a cultivator for something valuable.” Elena shrugged.
“They’re not supposed to.” “That’s not what I said.” “No.” Elena became more serious.
“The city has laws.” “Families have rules.” “Organizations have reputations.” “People have face.” “But none of those things bring back someone who was already killed in a quiet street.” Ciel said nothing.
Elena continued.
“If someone strong takes something from you in front of thirty witnesses, that can become trouble.” “If they follow you outside the city, cover their faces, kill everyone with you and burn the bodies…” She shrugged.
“Then first someone has to prove who did it.” Ciel’s fingers touched the bronze-green ring without thinking.
Elena did not notice.
“Then why have rules at all?” “Because most people don’t want every transaction to end in murder.” Elena looked toward the busy market ahead.
“And because sometimes the person you rob has a master.” “Or a family.” “Or a sect.” “Or a friend stronger than you thought.” Ciel thought of Mara.
Yunior.
Elena.
Her parents far away in Orione.
For a moment, the blackwood box seemed heavier.
Not because of the core.
Because she understood something she had only partly understood before.
Being stronger did not merely mean surviving a fight.
It meant making other people hesitate before starting one.
Elena bumped her shoulder.
“Your Qi.” Ciel frowned.
“What about it?” “It’s restless.” Ciel stopped.
She noticed it then.
Not like when she had stood near Dorian.
That agitation had been defensive.
This was different.
Her body still felt open.
The Spirit Wine was gone, but the response its fragrance had triggered had not completely faded.
Her circulation moved more easily.
The familiar pressure beyond First Layer had returned.
Closer than ever.
“Second Layer?” Elena asked.
Ciel swallowed.
“Maybe.” Elena pointed toward Mara’s residence.
“Go.” “I need to inspect the core.” “You already inspected it.” “I could inspect it better.” “Tomorrow.” “But—” “Second Layer.” Ciel looked toward Mara’s tower.
Then down at the blackwood box.
For once, she made the sensible decision.
Mara knew something had happened before Ciel finished climbing the stairs.
She looked up from the eighty-eight-star array.
“What did you consume?” “Nothing.” Mara stood.
“That answer was too fast.” “I didn’t!” “What?” “Spirit Wine.” Mara’s expression changed.
“How much?” “I didn’t drink it.” “How much?” “None.” Mara approached.
Silver entered her eyes.
Ciel held up both hands.
“I smelled it.” Mara stared.
“You smelled it.” “Several times.” “Why?” “We needed to know whether it was good.” Mara closed her eyes.
Ciel waited.
“Am I dying?” “No.” “Good.” “Unfortunately.” “Master.” Mara studied her aura.
Then some of the irritation disappeared.
“Hm.” Ciel hated that sound.
“What?” “Your body was already close.” “The wine stimulated your pores.” “Encouraged circulation.” “Your law has spent months teaching your body to accept Heaven-and-Earth Qi.” “The fragrance gave it another push.” Ciel’s heart accelerated.
“Second Layer?” “Perhaps.” “Now?” Mara looked toward the array.
“Sit.” Ciel sat.
Immediately.
Mara laughed.
“At least impatience is useful occasionally.” The eighty-eight stars awakened.
Qi gathered.
Ciel closed her eyes.
Her body responded immediately.
The Spirit Wine had not filled her with Qi.
She understood that now.
It had done something subtler.
Her body was receptive.
Open.
Ready.
The first layer condensed around her.
Ambient Qi entered.
Starlight followed the formation’s circuits.
Attraction.
Guidance.
Stabilization.
Ciel knew those concepts now.
For the first time, she could almost imagine what the formation beneath her was doing.
Every spirit stone.
Every circuit.
Every correction Mara had made over the years.
The array was not simply giving her power.
It was creating the conditions in which her body could learn.
Qi entered.
Circulated.
Settled.
Beyond her First Layer, the familiar pressure returned.
Except this time, it did not immediately disperse.
Ciel’s heart jumped.
The pressure trembled.
Her instinct was to push.
Force more Qi.
Compel the breakthrough.
Then she remembered Mara’s words.
A breakthrough is a condition.
Not a locked door.
Ciel breathed.
Absorbed.
Guided.
Refined.
More Qi gathered.
The second boundary began around her shoulders.
Thin.
Transparent.
Fragile.
It spread.
Chest.
Arms.
Back.
Legs.
A section near her left side weakened.
Qi began leaking away.
Ciel’s instinct screamed at her to force energy into it.
She did not.
She adjusted her circulation.
Supported the weak point.
Allowed the layer to form at its own pace.
Mara said nothing.
That usually meant Ciel was not doing anything catastrophically wrong.
The boundary closed.
For several breaths— nothing happened.
Then her body made the decision for her.
Whum.
The second layer stabilized.
Ciel inhaled sharply.
Two translucent layers of condensed Qi surrounded her body.
The outer layer was faint.
Thin.
New.
But complete.
Ciel opened her eyes.
“Second Layer.” Mara smiled.
“Second Layer.” “I did it.” “You did.” Then Ciel’s nose wrinkled.
A familiar gray film had begun pushing from her pores.
Thin at first.
Then thicker.
Oily impurities coated her forearms.
Her neck.
The back of her hands.
A foul smell followed a moment later.
Ciel stared down.
“No.” Mara’s smile widened.
“Yes.” “Again?” “Again.” “I thought that was a First Layer thing.” “Your body is still being refined.” Gray residue appeared along Ciel’s forehead.
She grimaced.
“How many times?” “Every Qi Condensation breakthrough.” Ciel counted quickly.
“Eight more?” Mara nodded.
“Assuming you reach Ninth Layer.” “That’s horrible.” “Cultivation often is.” Ciel lifted one arm and immediately regretted smelling it.
“This is worse than last time.” “It is not.” “It feels worse.” “Because now you knew it was coming.” “I did not know it was coming.” “Exactly.” Ciel glared at her.
Mara pointed toward the stairs.
“Bath.” “I just broke through.” “And now you smell like something that broke through the floor of a tannery.” “Can I stabilize first?” “You are stable.” “Can I meditate?” “Bath.” “Master—” “Bath.” Ciel sighed.
“Yes, Master.” She stood.
Too quickly.
Qi rushed into her legs.
Her new Second Layer reinforced the movement.
Ciel shot forward farther than intended.
Mara caught the back of her robe before she reached the edge of the array.
Silence.
Ciel looked over her shoulder.
Mara raised an eyebrow.
“Control training.” “After the bath?” “After the bath.” The following morning, a clean Ciel found Elena eating breakfast near Green Trail’s meeting hall.
She sat opposite her without saying anything.
Elena looked up.
Chewed.
Stopped.
Her eyes narrowed.
One layer.
Two.
She swallowed.
“You did it.” Ciel smiled.
“Second Layer.” Elena punched her shoulder.
Ciel remained in her chair.
Mostly.
“Ow.” “Control test.” “You could simply congratulate me.” “I did.” “With violence.” “Green Trail tradition.” Ciel laughed.
Then placed the blackwood box between them.
Elena’s expression changed.
“The core.” Ciel nodded.
“Now we build it?” Ciel rested one hand on the lid.
The earrings existed only inside her notebook.
Guide.
Receive.
Resonate.
Stabilize.
Release.
Orion.
Two fragments from the same Wind-attributed monster core.
A ridiculous idea born because Ciel had looked at a glowing jade tablet and wondered why it could not carry a voice.
She smiled.
“Now we fail several times.” Elena stopped chewing.
“Excuse me?” “Mara says that’s how artifact refinement works.” “You told me we’d make earrings.” “We will.” “I spent every spirit stone I had.” “I know.” “Will they explode?” “Probably not.” Elena slowly put down her food.
“Probably?” Ciel opened the blackwood box.
A faint current of Wind Qi stirred above the cracked monster core.
Elena stared at it.
Then at Ciel.
“If this thing screams into my ear like the shell did—” “It won’t.” “You don’t know that.” “No.” Elena pointed at her.
“If I go deaf after spending five spirit stones, I’m throwing you into the harbor.” Ciel grinned.
“Then we’d better make it work.”