The Lightning Valley was a land ruled not by men but by the storm. Lightning beasts, born from its ceaseless torrents of essence qi, prowled its ravines like fragments of heaven’s wrath given form. Every three years the silence of this place was broken, when Shanli’s young cultivators were cast into its maw to chase fortune and risk death.

  This year was no different. Yet within one narrow gorge, the hush was of another kind.

  Dozens of gazes fixed on Zhen Du. Breaths caught. Voices stilled. To an outsider it might have seemed a casual discussion—the way he stood so composed, his tone so even. But those who heard his terms knew better. This was not calm. It was pressure, a string drawn tight, one wrong note from breaking.

  It wasn’t fear of his academy alone that bound their tongues. Were the great clans here—the Xun, the Bai, the Wu—defiance might have sparked. But fate had scattered them elsewhere, and here the Royal Academy’s banner stood highest. Circumstance had placed Zhen Du at its head.

  Even the gorge seemed to listen. The stone walls caught the hiss of storm winds above, then swallowed the sound before it reached the ground. A cough, the scrape of a boot—each fell too loud.

  At last the youth in yellow broke. His attempt at steadiness cracked. “We… will follow Brother Zhen’s arrangement.”

  The ripple spread. Group after group yielded, assent thin and grudging. None lingered on the alternative: to stand apart when the beast returned was to die alone.

  Last was Chao. She stood rigid, light pink garments stirring faintly in the draft. Her lips parted, closed, then forced the words out, taut and unwilling. “I… agree.”

  Zhen Du’s gaze lingered a breath, neither gloating nor softening, before he moved on. His words carried through the gorge, firm as thunder across peaks. The decision was sealed.

  What followed was silence—not of debate, but of submission. Those from lesser groups glanced at one another, disbelief in their eyes, pride cracked under necessity. None raised their voice.

  In contrast, the Royal Academy students stood taller, delight breaking across their faces. Murmurs kindled, praise fanning like sparks into flame.

  “Brother Zhen carries the academy’s honour before all.”

  “Even here, he raises our banner higher.”

  Their voices wove together, not only in admiration but in self-assurance, clinging to his presence to mask the valley’s terror. Zhen Du held his bearing, showing neither triumph nor arrogance. His bearing alone was enough—an anchor in the storm, proof that in this valley of lightning, power was measured not just by qi, but by the will to command obedience.

  Far from the gorge, Xiao Lei remained absorbed in cultivation, seated cross-legged upon the luminous lotus. The petals glowed softly, each curve etched with veins of azure light, as though the flower itself drew breath from the storm-wracked heavens above.

  Colourless qi drifted from the valley air, thin strands drawn toward him. Yet none reached unscathed. As each neared the lotus, streaks of blue lightning shimmered into being—so fine they seemed an illusion, a ghost’s brush of light against emptiness. The strands shuddered, shorn of their weight, halved before passing through.

  Impurity. Always present, hidden in heaven and earth’s flow. For most cultivators, refinement was patience ground thin, a labour of endless tedium. But this lotus scoured the burden first, leaving only the clean remainder. From there, his thirty-six channels drank with startling ease. One circulation—no more—and the essence poured smoothly into his reservoir.

  The speed stunned even the pup. What had been expected to double was tripled outright, every breath of qi feeding him faster than reason allowed. Though his cultivation had not yet breached the middle of the ninth stage, the barrier no longer seemed distant.

  When his eyes opened at last, their depths were calm, untouched by fatigue. Days of ceaseless practice left no shadow on him. His breath was steady, his gaze clear. What lingered was not exhaustion but renewal—like waking from a night’s perfect rest.

  He rose in a single fluid motion, landing lightly on the rocky ground. With a flick of his wrist, the lotus vanished into the glimmer of his storage ring. For a moment his expression tightened, thought flickering across his face. His fingers brushed the band once, jaw set.

  ‘I need a better ring.’

  In the beast lair, whole boxes of spirit coins had been discarded to make room, wealth scattered as rubble. Waste gnawed at him, but there had been no choice.

  This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “How long have we been in this valley?” he asked inwardly.

  The pup’s voice answered from the quiet of his mind, lazy yet edged with certainty. Hard to say. Around four days, perhaps.

  Six days left. Ten in total, and the valley would expel them, willing or not. If he failed to seize the Sky Grade lightning qi before then, the chance would vanish—and with it, the only path beyond his current cage.

  But before resolve could harden, the pup spoke again. This time its usual disdain was gone. In its place was something deliberate, edged with weight.

  I don’t think that’s your only problem.

  “Mu Pei’s trio?” Xiao Lei asked, voice light, more curiosity than concern.

  And those six as well, the pup answered, certainty threading its tone. They saw the lotus. Word will spread—if it hasn’t already.

  A faint smile touched Xiao Lei’s lips, smooth as a sheathed blade. “Don’t worry. Even if they survived the emperor beast, they won’t shout about me or the lotus. Snatching from me is easier than stealing from the beast. Now they’ll be after me. Others knowing only sharpens the competition.”

  He paused, letting the thought settle like dust. “As for Mu Pei… I don’t like hidden dangers. I was planning to deal with him inside the academy, and I’m sure he’d planned the same. This valley just made the choice for us. He’ll be left behind.”

  The words were casual, almost bored, but his eyes glimmered with calculation. Enmity was predictable; advantage, less so. Better to let others expose themselves than be baited first. He rose, the faint smile never leaving his face.

  He strode to the boulder he had used to seal the cave. With a practiced shove, grit rasping under his palm, he eased it aside. The rock moved without drama. He slipped into the valley, boots finding purchase on stone, angling away from the beast’s den. His immediate need was simple: another flask. The red orb had filled his already; without a spare, the essence qi could not be seized and carried.

  Farther along a different ravine, the group Xiao Lei had been thinking of festered in a tighter knot than before. From six they had dwindled to four—two bodies gone, two absences leaving fresh gaps. The leader, Bai Cheng, stood with long hair loose over his shoulders. The softness of his features had hardened; the jaw clenched, nails whitening, eyes flashing. Around him, the others shrank; none dared challenge him.

  The lone girl in the circle finally spoke, voice small but steady. “Brother Cheng—what should we do next?”

  His hands trembled slightly as he scanned the torn sleeves, singed hair, the weight of losses pressing on him. Where calm had carried him into the beast’s lair, a ragged edge had taken its place. Something colder clicked into place.

  “We need to find that rat who stole our treasure,” he said, each word thudding like a hammer. “After we get the lotus back—when we get it—I’ll tear him apart, limb from limb.”

  The vow landed like a slab of stone—no righteousness, only a man emptied of mercy. Around them, a hush spread: fear braided with something darker, the raw lust for revenge.

  While chaos raged in the valley, elsewhere, the city of Jinling moved to its own rhythm, calm and deliberate, unaware of the storms beyond the mountains.

  Lian stood with measured poise before Princess Xinyue. The princess’s presence was magnetic—her voice clear, ringing like a bell struck in a quiet hall. Uncle Lei sat to her left, formal yet steady anchor in the grand space.

  “All the herbs and pills you requested have been delivered to your residence,” Lian said in a careful tone. “Everything you need to safely breakthrough to the Qi Condensation Realm is prepared.”

  Xinyue’s voice carried no impatience, only clarity. “Is there anything else you need, Lian?”

  Shaking her head, Lian replied, “No, Princess. It is already far more than I expected.”

  Xinyue’s lips curved into a teasing smile. “You used to call me Big Sister. Why all this courtesy now?”

  Lian’s eyes flicked to Uncle Lei, who coughed softly—a quiet reminder of how etiquette had been drilled into her since she and Xiao Lei arrived in the city. Her expression stayed neutral, but beneath it, a spark of frustration flared.

  Footsteps echoed in the corridor. A guard bowed sharply. “Princess Xiuyue has arrived.”

  Xinyue’s attention shifted briefly. “Very well, Lian. You may go. Remember, if you require anything, send someone to fetch it.”

  Lian inclined her head, bowing with precise grace, then turned toward the door. As she passed the princess, she offered another bow, but her eyes betrayed her distraction. Once outside, the innocence in her gaze dimmed slightly. A faint, bitter smirk touched her lips. Hmph… Big Sister. Isn’t all this just to win over Big Brother? How shameful. She stalked away, shoulders squared, masking any lingering embarrassment.

  Inside the palace hall, Xinyue greeted her own sister with warmth, her smile far more natural than the one shown to Lian. “What’s the matter? Why such a sour mood?”

  Her sister’s tone was tight with restrained irritation. “Don’t ask. I recently attended an auction in Lingbao. I sought a Dragon Breath Resin. Someone dared to challenge me, even knowing I—the princess—wanted it.”

  Xinyue took her sister’s hands in her own, firm yet gentle. “The resin is valuable, yes, but not worth using your title to bully others. Still, you managed to get it, did you not?”

  Her sister shook her head, frustration simmering. “That’s the point, Big Sister. I did not. The fellow refused to yield, even openly challenging the auctioneer. I had to step back, or everyone would have thought the same as you—indifferent to protocol.”

  Xinyue and Uncle Lei’s eyes widened slightly. “Someone dared oppose the princess?” Uncle Lei’s voice was incredulous. “Who was he?”

  “I don’t know,” her sister admitted, cheeks flushed with indignation. “I tried to find out, but he vanished.” The image of the figure in black robes, bamboo hat vivid in memory, made her lips press into a tight line. She cursed softly under her breath, the indignation still glowing like embers in her chest.

  The hall fell quieter, the faint echo of her words lingering over the opulent chambers. A silent tension hummed, not from Lian or the sisters, but from the thought of a single figure who had dared oppose royalty—and walked away unscathed.

  Favourite button, drop a rating, write a review, and leave a comment—I read them all (even the unhinged ones). Your support fuels my writing, and hey… maybe the protagonist will suffer slightly less if you do. No guarantees though! ??

  [Click here to head to the main page!]

  Destiny Reckoning. It’s set in the same universe, and you definitely don’t want to miss it, because the stories will eventually crossover.