Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect

The envoy from the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect arrived that afternoon.

That day, Nan Feng was squatting in the sun at the foot of the dormitory's rear wall. The wound on his left shoulder had scabbed over and still pulled painfully when he moved, though it didn't hinder his daily activities.

He leaned against the earthen wall, legs stretched out on the steps, and closed his eyes to feel the warmth of the sun. He was mulling over how to raise his Soul Power.

Old Huai had said there were no shortcuts between level fourteen and level twenty. He could only rely on day after day of cultivation to thicken the walls of his meridians by another layer. Only when his Soul Power reached level twenty could he attempt to break through the first-level tower gate.

He had done the calculations. At the Primordial World Qi Refining Art's pace, it would take at least another eight or nine months.

Xiao Wu came running from the other end of the courtyard just as Nan Feng was thinking about the second-level tower gate.

He opened his eyes. Xiao Wu's scorpion braid swung in the wind as her pink-clad figure darted down the path. She skidded to a halt in front of him.

"Tower Simpleton, someone's looking for you."

Xiao Wu lowered her voice and glanced toward the teaching building.

"He's dressed pretty well. He's waiting for you in the reception room."

"Who?"

"I don't know. But the Soul Power fluctuations coming off him are denser than those of any teacher I've ever met."

She crouched down and leaned close to Nan Feng's ear.

"He's at least a Soul King."

Nan Feng stood up and dusted off his trousers.

A Soul King-level envoy had come specifically to find him. He had a rough idea who had sent him.

The reception room was on the east side of the teaching building's first floor. Nan Feng pushed the door open and entered. A middle-aged man in a moon-white robe sat in a rattan chair by the window, holding a cup of tea.

The man was in his forties and had a lean build. A pale green jade token hung at his waist, with a seven-story pagoda carved on its face.

Nan Feng's gaze lingered on the token for a moment.

The emblem of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect.

"Nan Feng?"

The man stood up. His voice was gentle and his manner refined. But his gaze quietly appraised Nan Feng, as though he were looking at something just dug out of the earth, estimating its quality and value.

"My name is Han Feng, an external affairs deacon of the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect. Sorry for the unannounced visit. I'd like to have a chat with you."

Nan Feng sat down opposite him.

"Deacon Han."

Han Feng sat back down, set his teacup on the table, and folded his hands on his knees.

"Your name was recommended to us by a teacher at Nuoding Academy. A Bronze Tower Martial Soul, innate level eight. You've been enrolled for less than half a year, and your Soul Power has already broken through level ten."

He leaned forward.

"At your cultivation speed, you're quite a bit faster than your peers, even without the support of a sect's resources. And your Martial Soul is very special. Tool Martial Souls have excellent room for development in our system."

He drew a pale gold scroll from his sleeve and spread it across the table. The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's emblem was stamped along its edge, and the inside was densely covered with terms.

"The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect is willing to provide you with a full supply of cultivation resources. That includes cultivation manuals, assistance and protection while hunting for Soul Rings, priority in the allocation of Soul Bones, and one-on-one instruction from a Soul Emperor-level mentor."

"After you graduate, you can choose to enter the sect's core ranks, or remain a member in name and cultivate freely."

Nan Feng looked at the scroll without reaching for it. His gaze moved from the terms to Han Feng's face.

Han Feng's smile was perfectly proper. But Nan Feng noticed that, as he spoke, his right index finger tapped twice against his knee, out of rhythm with the cadence of his explanation.

It was a negotiating habit, meant to suggest to the other party that "the terms are already very good."

"Deacon Han," Nan Feng said, "I'd like to ask a question."

"Go ahead."

"After I join the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, will I be yours, or my own?"

Han Feng's finger paused on his knee for a beat. He hadn't expected the question, but he quickly regained his composure.

"When a sect nurtures talent, it naturally hopes that talent will contribute to the sect at crucial moments. It's a choice that goes both ways."

"Both ways?"

Nan Feng repeated the words quietly, each one distinct.

"Deacon Han, let me make sure I understand. If I join the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, will I be able to decide for myself what I do, which path I take, and who I fight?"

Han Feng looked at him, his smile still in place, though the appraising light in his eyes faded somewhat.

"Nan Feng, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect has the best reputation among the nine great sects. We never force our disciples to do anything against their hearts. But if the sect nurtures you, gives you resources, a mentor, and protection, it's only natural that it has certain expectations of you at crucial moments."

"So there are conditions."

Han Feng's smile faded a little.

"A sect's expectations of its disciples are not shackles."

Nan Feng nodded.

"I understand. But that's exactly what I don't want."

Han Feng narrowed his eyes.

"You don't want that?"

"It's not that I'm ungrateful."

Nan Feng rose from his chair.

"I can feel the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's sincerity, and I know how generous these terms are. But I'm not used to handing my direction over to someone else to draw the lines. The road I need to take is one I have to navigate for myself."

Han Feng leaned back in his chair and studied his face for a long time. His gaze was even more appraising than before. This time, he was weighing Nan Feng himself.

"Nan Feng, you're twelve this year. At your age and with your talent, if you don't have a sect supporting you, five years from now you'll find that your peers have left you far behind."

"Resources, connections, protection, information-these aren't things one person can gather alone."

"I know."

Nan Feng stood by the window. Afternoon sunlight streamed in, laying a thin sheen of light across his shoulders.

"But the path I chose was never about who could run faster."

Han Feng fell silent for a few breaths, then rolled up the scroll and put it back in his sleeve.

"Have you been turned down many times?" Nan Feng asked.

"This is the first."

Han Feng stood and walked over to him, looking carefully into his eyes.

"All right. I'll remember what you said. If you change your mind someday, you can knock on the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's door anytime."

He turned and walked to the doorway, then paused.

"Your First Soul Ring-did you hunt it yourself?"

"Yes."

"How old was it?"

"Less than a thousand years."

Han Feng's back stiffened. He didn't turn around. His right hand clenched inside his sleeve, his knuckles whitening.

Han Feng walked out, the hem of his moon-white robe disappearing around the corner of the corridor.

Nan Feng looked down at the hand hanging at his side. A fine sheen of sweat coated his palm.

Refusing a giant was not easy, even when you knew exactly what you were doing.

The Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect was one of the Upper Three Sects, the wealthiest sect on the continent. Ning Fengzhi presided over it, and Ning Rongrong would one day be the core support of the Shrek Seven Devils.

When he said "no," he knew what he was giving up. But he knew even more clearly that if he agreed, he would never be himself again.

Someone was crouching around the corner of the corridor.

Xiao Wu. She was crouched at the foot of the wall, her arms wrapped around her knees. When she saw Nan Feng come out, she stood and brushed the dust from her trouser legs, wearing the half-smile Nan Feng knew so well.

"I heard everything," she said.

"You were eavesdropping?"

"What eavesdropping? I was sitting right out in the open in the corridor."

Xiao Wu gave a huff.

"That was the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect! And you actually turned them down?"

Nan Feng walked on, with Xiao Wu beside him. The two followed the path toward the dormitory.

A few work-study students were sweeping the path, their brooms swishing over the gravel.

"What kind of path do you actually want to take?"

Xiao Wu tilted her head to look at him. There was curiosity in her gaze, and something else Nan Feng couldn't quite name.

"You won't go to Shrek, you don't want the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect, and you even refused to become Grandmaster's disciple. You have to find yourself a path, don't you? Are you planning to be an independent cultivator your whole life?"

Nan Feng stopped at a bend in the path.

In the distance stood an old tree outside the courtyard wall. Its branches were thick, its crown stretched beyond the wall, and moss covered its trunk.

He watched the tree in silence for a while.

"If you become someone else's blade, you can never be the one who wields it."

Xiao Wu tilted her head and looked at him for quite a while, then bumped him with her shoulder.

"All right. Then you, the one who wields the blade, had better not break it someday. Come on, let's get dinner!"

She bounded ahead a couple of steps, then suddenly stopped and looked back at him.

"But Tower Simpleton, the Seven Treasure Glazed Tile Sect's resources really are good. If you ever change your mind, I'll help you knock on their door."

Nan Feng smiled.

"Didn't you just tell me not to break my blade?"

Xiao Wu rolled her eyes, turned, and ran toward the cafeteria.

Nan Feng followed at an unhurried pace. He looked down at his right palm. The underlying glow of the deep yellow Soul Ring, tinged with purple, lay beneath his skin, echoing the cyan light of the crack at the tower's base, one above and one below.

His Soul Power was at level fourteen, six levels short of twenty. Only then could the first-level gate be pushed fully open.

The road was still long, and he had chosen the direction himself.

He walked into the cafeteria. Xiao Wu had already claimed a spot and waved at him. Tang San sat across from her, holding a bowl of porridge. When he saw Nan Feng approach, he looked up, his gaze lingering on Nan Feng's face for a moment.

Nan Feng sat down beside him, took a steamed bun from the table, and broke it open.

"Someone came to see me just now," he said.

Tang San didn't ask who. He nodded and continued eating his porridge. His movements slowed for a beat; he was waiting for Nan Feng to tell him of his own accord.

Nan Feng didn't explain. He took a bite of the bun, chewed twice and swallowed, then turned his gaze out the window.

Dusk spread from the far end of the courtyard, staining the path a warm gray.

There was morning training again tomorrow. Xiao Wu would be waiting for him on the back hill, and he still had to keep practicing Tower Suppression.

Until his Soul Power reached level twenty, the first-level gate wouldn't open, he couldn't reach Xiao Wu's seal, and Old Huai's plan couldn't move forward.

He needed time. He had it, so long as he kept every step steady.