The recruitment square in the heart of Mistfall City was packed with hopeful mortals and their families, all gathered beneath colorful banners bearing the emblem of the Frost Cloud Pavilion—a silver cloud wreathed in frost-blue light.
Standing at the edge of the crowd, Li An frowned deeply, her plain features creased with worry as she rubbed her temples and let out a long, frustrated sigh.
How am I supposed to get accepted?
The problem was glaringly obvious. The Frost Cloud Pavilion, like most cultivation sects, only recruited disciples who had not yet begun their cultivation journey. They wanted blank slates—young mortals with untapped spiritual roots who could be molded according to the sect's methods from the very beginning.
But Li An was already a mid-stage Foundation Establishment cultivator.
She could, of course, use a concealment talisman to hide her cultivation and pretend to be an ordinary mortal. But that path led to a dead end. Disciples with higher cultivation realms received vastly superior resources, access to restricted techniques, and personal instruction from elders. If she entered as a "mortal" and wanted to avoid suspicion, her cultivation speed would have to remain believable for someone with mid-grade yin spiritual roots—meaning it would take at least thirty years to "reach" Foundation Establishment.
Worse, she had already undergone her heavenly tribulation. The moment she revealed Foundation Establishment cultivation without a corresponding tribulation event, every elder in the sect would grow suspicious.
Damn it... I can't hide my realm, but I can't reveal it either without a plausible story.
Her repeated sighs and anxious gestures had begun to draw attention. Several nearby families glanced at her curiously, whispering amongst themselves.
And then, cutting through the murmurs, a sharp voice rang out.
"You there. The woman in gray."
Li An's heart skipped a beat. She turned to see an elderly man in flowing azure robes descending from a raised platform. His beard was long and white, his eyes sharp and assessing. The emblem of the Frost Cloud Pavilion gleamed on his chest—a recruitment elder.
He stopped a few paces away, his gaze narrowing. "You've been hovering around the venue for the past hour, sighing and muttering to yourself. State your purpose. Are you a spy from a rival sect?"
The crowd around them fell silent, all eyes turning toward Li An.
Li An's mind raced. She had been careless. Her anxiety had made her too conspicuous.
Taking a deep breath, she clasped her hands together and bowed respectfully. "Elder, forgive this humble one. I am not a spy. I am merely... a loose cultivator who hoped to join your esteemed sect."
The elder's expression remained skeptical. "A loose cultivator? Then why are you hesitating? The registration is open to all who possess spiritual roots."
Li An bit her lower lip, her plain face twisting into an expression of helpless frustration. She let her voice tremble slightly, injecting just enough vulnerability to seem genuine.
"Elder, I... I have already begun cultivating. I reached Foundation Establishment through my own efforts, but..." Her voice cracked, and she lowered her gaze, letting her shoulders slump. "The world of loose cultivators is cruel. Every resource I need becomes more expensive. Every breakthrough attracts more enemies. I have to hide my face, conceal my cultivation, and live in constant fear that one day, someone stronger will kill me for my belongings."
She paused, letting a tear slide down her cheek. "I heard that the Frost Cloud Pavilion was recruiting disciples, and I thought... perhaps I could find a place to belong. A sect where I wouldn't have to live in terror every single day. But when I arrived, I learned that you only accept those who haven't started cultivating. So my hopes were... pointless."
Her voice broke on the last word, and she covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking.
The elder's stern expression softened. He scratched his head, clearly uncomfortable. "You... you're already at Foundation Establishment?"
Li An nodded, wiping her eyes. "Mid-stage, Elder. I know it disqualifies me. I'm sorry for wasting your time."
The elder sighed heavily, glancing back at the recruitment platform where other disciples were being tested. Then he looked at the trembling woman before him and made a decision.
"Come with me," he said gruffly. "I can't make this decision alone. I'll bring you to the peak masters. They'll decide whether the sect has a place for you."
Li An's heart leaped. She bowed deeply, her voice thick with gratitude. "Thank you, Elder! Thank you!"
The journey to the Frost Cloud Pavilion took half a day by flying boat. Li An stood at the railing alongside the newly recruited mortal disciples, watching as the northern mountains rose into view—towering peaks wreathed in mist and crowned with ancient pavilions.
When they landed, the mortal disciples were led away by a junior elder to receive their orientation. Li An, however, was escorted by the recruitment elder through a series of winding stone paths until they reached a grand hall carved into the side of a mountain.
Inside, six figures sat in high-backed chairs arranged in a semicircle.
The recruitment elder bowed. "Peak Masters, I bring before you a loose cultivator who wishes to join the sect. Her situation is... unusual."
The six peak masters turned their attention to Li An.
The first was a stern, broad-shouldered man with a sword strapped to his back—the Sword Peak Master, a peak-stage Golden Core cultivator. Beside him sat a graceful woman in green robes, her hands stained faintly with medicinal herbs—the Pill Peak Master, late-stage Golden Core. Next was a burly man with soot-streaked sleeves—the Forging Peak Master, also late-stage Golden Core.
Then came a strikingly beautiful woman with long, flowing black hair and eyes like frozen lakes. She wore robes of pure white trimmed with silver, and her aura was cold and commanding—the Mystic Peak Master, peak-stage Golden Core.
Beside her sat an elderly man with a long beard and a calculating gaze—the Formation Peak Master, late-stage Golden Core. And finally, a grim-faced woman with a scar across her cheek—the Punishment Peak Master, peak-stage Golden Core.
The Sword Peak Master spoke first, his voice blunt. "A loose cultivator? We don't typically accept outsiders who've already begun their cultivation. What makes you think you're worth our time?"
Li An bowed deeply, keeping her expression humble. "Peak Masters, I do not presume to be worthy. I only ask for a chance to prove myself."
The Pill Peak Master leaned forward, her tone more curious than hostile. "What is your cultivation realm?"
"Mid-stage Foundation Establishment, Peak Master."
A ripple of surprise passed through the hall.
The Forging Peak Master raised an eyebrow. "Mid-stage Foundation Establishment? That's... not bad for a loose cultivator. Most rogue cultivators barely reach Qi Condensation before they run out of resources or get killed."
The Mystic Peak Master's icy gaze sharpened. "If you have the talent to reach Foundation Establishment on your own, why didn't any sect recruit you when you were younger?"
Li An had prepared for this question. She kept her voice steady, weaving truth and fabrication together seamlessly.
"I am not from the Northern Continent, Peak Master. I was born in the Southern Continent, where yang spiritual energy dominates the environment. Unfortunately, I possess yin spiritual roots. Cultivating there was like swimming against a raging current. My progress was slow, and no sect wanted a disciple whose spiritual roots were incompatible with the land's natural energy."
She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "So I saved every spirit stone I could, endured every hardship, and traveled north. Here, where yin spiritual energy is abundant, I finally have a chance to cultivate properly. But as a lone woman with no sect backing, I am vulnerable. I came to the Frost Cloud Pavilion hoping to find a home."
The Formation Peak Master stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Yin spiritual roots, you say? That is rare."
The Mystic Peak Master's expression shifted. Her cold eyes gleamed with sudden, intense interest. "Show me your spiritual roots."
Li An nodded, keeping her breath steady as she carefully suppressed the terrifying primordial depths of Wu Meng Ting’s true foundation slumbering beneath her disguise. She dared not allow even a single wisp of that divine, ancient origin to leak out. Instead, she deliberately channeled only the cool resonance of Li An’s mid-grade yin spiritual roots, guiding a modest thread of cold qi through her meridians.
Extending her slender, delicate hand, she opened her palm.
A clear, pale-silver glow blossomed above her fingertips, radiating a crisp, chilly breeze across the floor. It was unmistakably mid-grade yin spiritual energy—neither overwhelming nor grand, yet smooth, unblemished, and entirely free of yang impurities.
The hall fell quiet as the elders studied the light.
The Mystic Peak Master rose slowly from her seat, her cold eyes flashing with keen satisfaction. "Mid-grade yin spiritual roots... though the grade is only intermediate, the qi is remarkably pure and stable." She stepped forward, her gaze locked onto Li An. "Our Mystic Peak has searched for decades for a disciple with a true yin affinity. Even at mid-grade, your compatibility with our sword arts and ice-element cultivation will far surpass me who was forced to mimic yin with water qi."
The other peak masters exchanged glances, clearly impressed but uncertain.
The Mystic Peak Master stepped forward, her voice trembling with barely restrained excitement. "Do any of you object to me claiming this disciple for the Mystic Peak?"
The Sword Peak Master shrugged. "She has yin roots. She belongs with you."
The Pill Peak Master nodded. "We have no expertise in guiding yin cultivation. She's yours."
The Forging Peak Master grunted his agreement.
The Mystic Peak Master turned to Li An, her cold demeanor cracking into a rare, genuine smile. "Welcome to the Mystic Peak, Li An. You will not regret this."
The Mystic Peak was a world unto itself—a towering mountain wreathed in perpetual mist, dotted with elegant pavilions and courtyards filled with blooming winter plum blossoms. Every disciple Li An passed was female, their robes flowing and their movements graceful.
As a former man, Li An found the environment deeply unsettling.
The Mystic Peak Master led her through the main courtyard, introducing her to clusters of disciples along the way. The women greeted her warmly—too warmly. They clasped her hands, touched her shoulders, and leaned in close to inspect her features with bright, curious eyes.
"Welcome, Junior Sister!"
"You're so cute! Where are you from?"
"Your skin is so soft! Do you use a special moisturizing talisman?"
Li An's heightened senses, sharpened by Wu Meng Ting's exquisitely sensitive body, registered every touch with startling clarity. The brush of a hand against her arm sent a faint shiver down her spine. The press of a senior sister's chest against her shoulder as the woman leaned in to whisper a greeting made her breath hitch.
This is... too much, she thought, her cheeks flushing beneath the plain disguise. I'm not used to this. Women didn't touch me like this when I was a man.
Finally, the Mystic Peak Master assigned a senior disciple to guide her. "Zi Qing, show our new junior sister to her residence. I will meet with her tomorrow to discuss her training."
Zi Qing was a lively young woman in her early twenties, with bright eyes and an easy smile. She looped her arm through Li An's without hesitation, chattering cheerfully as she led her down a winding stone path.
"You're so lucky, Junior Sister! The Peak Master almost never accepts disciples personally. She must see great potential in you!"
Li An forced a polite smile. "I am grateful for the opportunity, Senior Sister."
"Call me Zi Qing! We're going to be spending a lot of time together, so let's not be formal." She squeezed Li An's arm affectionately. "First, we'll get you a disciple token from the administration hall. Then I'll show you the mission pavilion, the library, and introduce you to some of my friends!"
The administration hall was efficient. Within minutes, Li An received a jade token engraved with her name and the emblem of the Mystic Peak. Zi Qing explained that the token could be used to accept sect missions, access restricted areas, and accumulate sect contribution points.
Next, they visited the mission pavilion—a bustling hall filled with disciples reviewing task boards. Zi Qing pointed out various missions, from gathering spiritual herbs to hunting demonic beasts, each offering different rewards.
"As a new disciple, you'll also receive one free entry to the sect library," Zi Qing said. "You can choose one cultivation technique or martial art to study. I recommend waiting until after you meet with the Peak Master, though. She might have specific recommendations."
As they walked past the library's towering jade doors, two figures approached from the opposite direction.
"Zi Qing!" a warm, masculine voice called out.
Zi Qing's face lit up. "Senior Brother Zhang! Senior Sister Zhang!"
The man was tall and broad-shouldered, possessing an appearance that was neatly above average though certainly not handsome or striking. His respectable, ordinary features were carried with an easy confidence, his robes bearing the emblem of the Forging Peak while his late-stage Foundation Establishment aura radiated steady strength. Beside him walked a graceful young woman in the green robes of the Pill Peak, her features delicate and her expression serene.
"This is Zhang Hao, a senior brother from the Forging Peak," Zi Qing said, gesturing to the man. "And this is his sister, Zhang Ling, from the Pill Peak. They're both incredibly talented! Senior Brother Zhang is considered the future successor of the Forging Peak Master."
Zhang Hao smiled warmly at Li An. "Welcome to the Frost Cloud Pavilion, Junior Sister. It's rare for the Mystic Peak to accept a new disciple. You must be quite exceptional."
Li An bowed politely. "You flatter me, Senior Brother. I am merely fortunate."
Zhang Ling's gentle gaze studied Li An with quiet curiosity. "If you ever need assistance with alchemy or medicinal pills, feel free to visit the Pill Peak. We're always happy to help fellow disciples."
"Thank you, Senior Sister," Li An replied.
They exchanged a few more pleasantries before parting ways.
As they walked back toward the Mystic Peak, Zi Qing leaned in conspiratorially, her soft shoulder brushing lightly against Li An's arm. "Senior Brother Zhang is quite well-liked across the peaks, you know. He's so steady and dependable that nearly every disciple treats him like a reliable older brother whenever their spiritual tools need mending. But honestly, the man is an utter blockhead when it comes to anything outside of his forge!"
Li An nodded absently, her mind elsewhere. The casual warmth of the interaction had felt strange—comfortable, even. She was beginning to adapt to this new social dynamic, and that realization unsettled her.
By the time they returned to the Mystic Peak, the sky had darkened into twilight. Zi Qing stretched her arms above her head and sighed contentedly.
"Ah, what a long day! I feel so sticky and sweaty. Let's go to the bathhouse and wash up!"
Li An froze. "Bathhouse?"
"Of course! The Mystic Peak has the best bathhouse in the entire sect. The water is drawn from a natural hot spring infused with yin spiritual energy. It's incredibly relaxing!" Zi Qing grabbed Li An's hand. "Come on!"
"Senior Sister, I—"
"No excuses! You've been traveling for days. You need a proper bath."
Li An wanted to protest that Foundation Establishment cultivators no longer accumulated dirt or sweat, but Zi Qing was already dragging her down the path.
The bathhouse was a large, open pavilion built around a series of steaming pools. The air was thick with warm mist, and the sound of trickling water echoed softly.
And everywhere Li An looked, there were naked women.
Disciples of all ages lounged in the pools, their bare skin glistening with water droplets. Some chatted quietly, while others reclined with their eyes closed, their long hair floating around them like silk.
Li An's breath caught in her throat.
Where do I look? Where do I—
Her gaze darted away, but everywhere she turned, there was more exposed flesh—soft curves, slender waists, full breasts rising and falling with each breath.
Her body, Wu Meng Ting's body, reacted instinctively. A hot, tingling sensation spread through her lower abdomen, and she felt a sudden, mortifying wetness between her thighs.
No, no, no—
"Li An? Are you okay?" Zi Qing's voice cut through her panic.
Li An flinched as Zi Qing's hand landed on her shoulder. The touch sent a jolt of sensation straight down her spine, and her knees nearly buckled. More wetness trickled down her inner thighs, hidden only by the general dampness of the bathhouse.
"I'm fine," Li An gasped, her voice strained. "Just... a little dizzy."
Zi Qing frowned. "You should get in the water. It'll help you relax."
Li An nodded quickly and stumbled toward the nearest pool, desperate to hide the evidence of her body's betrayal. She slipped into the warm water, sinking down until it reached her collarbones.
The heat enveloped her instantly.
Oh...
It was unlike anything she had ever experienced. The warm water caressed every inch of her skin, seeping into her pores and soothing muscles she hadn't realized were tense. Her previous male body, with its thick, calloused skin, had barely registered the sensation of bathing. But Wu Meng Ting's delicate, hyper-sensitive flesh seemed to drink in the warmth, every nerve ending singing with pleasure.
Li An's eyes fluttered closed. Her breathing slowed. The tension in her shoulders melted away, replaced by a languid, almost euphoric relaxation.
So this is why female cultivators still bathe...
Time lost all meaning. She floated in the warm embrace of the water, her mind drifting into a hazy, semi-conscious state.
"Li An?"
Zi Qing's voice was distant, muffled.
"Li An, it's getting late. We should head back."
Li An blinked slowly, her vision unfocused. She turned her head toward Zi Qing, her lips curving into a soft, drowsy smile.
"Senior Sister..." Her voice came out breathy, almost childlike. "Carry me back..."
The words left her mouth before she could stop them.
The bathhouse fell silent.
Zi Qing's eyes widened, and then a mischievous grin spread across her face. "Oh? Junior Sister wants me to carry her?"
Li An's mind snapped back into focus. Horror flooded through her.
What did I just say?!
Her face turned bright red. She shot to her feet, water streaming down her body, and scrambled out of the pool. "I—I didn't mean—excuse me!"
She grabbed her robes and fled.
Behind her, Zi Qing's laughter echoed through the bathhouse. "Junior Sister, wait! Don't be embarrassed!"
But Li An didn't stop. She ran all the way back to her residence, her heart pounding and her face burning with shame.
Once inside, she slammed the door shut and collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in the pillow.
How could I say something so... so...
She groaned, her entire body trembling with mortification.
I'm losing myself. My thoughts, my reactions... they're becoming more feminine every day.
To calm her racing mind, she forced herself into a meditative posture and began circulating the Primordial Yin Scripture. The cold spiritual energy flowed through her meridians, dampening the heat in her chest and clearing her thoughts.
By the time she opened her eyes again, the night was deep and silent.
Tomorrow, she would meet the Mystic Peak Master and begin her training in earnest.
But tonight, she could only lie in the darkness and wonder how much more of her former self she would lose before this journey was over.