Time drifted beyond Hao’s grasp. It was hard not to notice the sky each time he peeked outside. The first time he stepped outside was when his wounds had recovered. Cuts vanished, just scars remained. The broken threads and stitched seams in his stained robes told where each mark on his skin was hidden.

  Hao stood under the last harsh days of summer, taking advantage of the sun and the moonless sky while they lasted. He cultivated the summer air until the First moons reached the sky. Round and blue at night. Large misshapen islands stayed dark while speckles of white reflected down to the ground—Cascades of light like ethereal waterfalls. Summer ended, and Fall began.

  He admired and reminisced before returning to the cave. “Not much has changed here,” Hao muttered as he watched the sun rise. He spent one evening looking between his fingers and the sky. The blue moons turn to a reflective gold, but it was kind enough to block some of the sun’s rays for a few hours.

  Hao knew by now, at least with summer’s end, he was a year older. At least that was true, according to Meiqi and Zhenqi, the two women would know. That was just the passing of time. He felt it, but it seemed like more than a year had passed. Yet not even a year had passed since he left the Island, since he stepped on land and joined the Sect.

  The Fall or Autumn, to some, was the kindest season. Famines broke, rain poured, and the nights were bearable with just a blanket—no longer did you need to burn yourself just to escape frostbite. Plants that could survive summer were harvestable. New plants grew in the ashes of sun-born fires, and ice roots deep thawed, encouraging growth. Animals peered from burrows, and bone-thin hunters waited.

  Of course, that was on land, in mortal places. On the Islands, they would fish as they did through summer.

  Inside the Secret Realm, the sky had changed—at least that was recognizable. The weather became kinder. Harsh compared to the world outside he knew, but kinder still, night no longer sent chunks of falling ice, but just a mist of cold that froze grass and leaves brittle. The rain was slower and more frequent. Thankfully, the occasional lightning was as harsh as it got.

  There were a few sad things about the end of summer. The one tactic that gave him the edge in a fight no longer worked. There was no blinding sun to wait for. The freshest, the best of the Day-Night amethyst, would have long been taken; he could only take them from others now. Still, a few stones may have been left in the mountain halls.

  “Not right now, however…” Hao slid his feet under him. His hands felt the soft, moist ground, the twin-bladed grass stretched up like it was waking from a long nap, and its orange color remained. Hao chuckled, finding it strange that it was not hot to the touch. He got up, stood sturdy, tall, shook the morning dew from his hand, and entered the cave. The World was not so kind to offer him a free Breakthrough. He would have to grasp it for himself.

  I will Cultivate until I’m satisfied. He charged himself, his words like an oath, a second farewell, one to Fall as he crossed his legs again in the cave.

  *

  The Second moon was peeking into the sky, the second time Hao left the cave. Fall was approaching its Mid-Season, and winter was closing in. When winter came, the Secret Realm would close.

  “Seventh layer,” Hao laughed, stretched, and smiled at the sky. He found a calm peace during his solitude. This Breakthrough was far easier on his body than the rest, though the process itself was hard and longer. There was no pain. Not shedding skin or blood. The Breakthrough wasn’t violent, in a way, he felt he was missing something. Most breakthroughs had him doubled over, swallowing elixir or plants, at the very least, World Energy created by the Drinking-Stone.

  This time, though months passed and sleeping moons woke, Hao managed it alone. He had no magic fruits or sap or treasures pushing him up the stairs of ascension. Slowly, he drew the World Energy. With effort, he created new Qi Channels himself. More World Energy than ever before filled him now.

  Hao was full of an odd pride, having proven to himself he could breakthrough without external assistance, but the time it took made the nonexistent talent he had evident. There were worries, old ones, and revenge was just a passing thought. How those he met in the Secret Realm were doing. “Dong Lingli, I hope you had it better than I did after we parted…” Of course, he questioned the state of the others he met inside the cave, too.

  “But the trial isn’t over,” Hao muttered to himself, standing in front of the curled-up sleeping Yellow-Yellow grass. It was night, and there was light shining down. Half of the second moon, peeking into the sky. There was no ice at his feet.

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  Hao started walking, leaving the cave behind. He didn’t have much of a farewell for it, but it treated him well. His feet guided him to a place that gave him a little trepidation, the center of the Secret Realm.

  There were fewer stones to be had in the two secondary mountains, and people to loot if he had to. The Polarity Flower, too, if he could get his hands on Meng Hongyu, without dying. That task may be easier than Hao initially thought. He wondered how far the spores that infected Hongyu had gone, how he looked now.

  Thankfully, because of his luck, though it was little luck, it was not just the breakthrough he found in the cave. There were a few things he discovered that softened the blow of the opportunities he missed during the summer days of the Secret Realm.

  Hao took out a white stone and played with it as he moved through the forest. Many of his early steps were steady. It had been months since he last walked far. It wasn’t a normal Spirit Stone, not a Spirit Stone to begin with, anyway. Or maybe it was, in time, it might have been. Instead, when he first found it, it was something of no value. A gray, clay-like stone with no luster.

  An inert stone, Spirit stones with no World Energy. Hao would have never found them if they hadn’t greedily eaten away at World Energy during his Cultivation. More than one hundred. They quickly filled with Pure World Energy as he threw them into the Space of the Spirit-Holding bag as he mined them. A nostalgic activity he made quick work of.

  Hao pulled the now White Spirit Stone into the Spirit-Holding bag. His feet picked up pace as he adjusted to moving again. It felt like his legs were filling with blood for the first time in a while after sitting in that meditative position. Cultivating was his priority. But he never forgot to study things he didn’t understand, and explore things that stunned his still partially mortal mind.

  The Spirit-Holding Bag seemed more of an enigma, somehow even more than before. It was more attached to him than ever; that was the only way Hao could describe it. He, in a manner, felt the same way. The bag, or the ruby attached to it, saved him, stealing his World Energy to do so. Though that wasn’t all, letting it take his World Energy seemed to do. The inside expanded, its depths reaching a new low. Hao could sense the bottom, or what he assumed was the bottom.

  His control of the bag was incomparable to before. Hao crouched, passing a puddle of fall rain water, not frozen, not instantly evaporated, his finger touched it, and it vanished. He held it steady inside the Spirit-Holding bag’s space. Slowly, he spread it over the herbs and crops inside. He lost only a few handfuls now. Some of the water escaped his grasp, falling on the beast that took a liking to his cave-shelter during the rains. A variety of beasts met him as they were looking for a place to sleep.

  I think I am close to perfect control. He had better control if he touched the ruby, but that drained him of World Energy, made him feel sapped. Hao let the rest of the water he had no use for out of the bag. The moment it was outside, it fell chaotic, soaking the front of his robes.

  *

  It didn’t take long for Hao to reach the Center of the Secret Realm. Faster than ever, and while his senses adjusted to the outside world, they markedly improved. It helped that he didn’t run into a single person on the way. People uninterested in finding more Amethysts on their own were either scattered, hiding, or fighting, killing each other in turn.

  Those who had all they wanted could wait the rest of the time in the Secret Realm. The exit would open soon rather than later now. When the third moon peeked into the sky, the first moon hung in the center of the open sky.

  Lightning still curled in the sky of the central zone. Hao brought himself in front of the central mountain. The mountain was unassuming from the outside, tall and skinny compared to the other mountains. Small compared to the mountains of the World outside the Mid-Summer cave. But Hao knew it inside its wandering halls and chambers.

  Hao approached the place. The camp that once lay outside, where he met Dong Lingli, was long gone. A few crafts and makeshift tents remained. That grass that died from the campfire and shadow had grown back.

  From the outskirts of the former campsite, Hao saw a few wooden tiles. From a distance, he could smell them. Peach wood, he never thought the scent of a sweet fruit would make his stomach curl.

  They were trial passes. Thrown away by those lucky few not tempted by the potential of the legacy inside. Not that a legacy truly existed. Not that once you picked up a pass, it was your choice to decide if you entered or not. Lucky indeed… Hao muttered, walking over to the place where Dong Lingli once had his unique tent set up. Not even a trace of its shadow remained.

  There was a pass close to the spot. Hao bent and touched it. The sensation was instant. A compulsion that ran deep into his soul, but there was no story repeating itself. All that was left was a sickening feeling that left him revolted. For a moment, he thought it was a good idea to attempt the trial.

  Hao squeezed down when he felt the thought. It cracked, and Hao crushed down as hard as he could, bringing pain to his fingers and palms. A loud snap sounded, then got lost in the night—One pass of many breaking. He let the wood tile fall to pieces on the ground as he listened to a group of footsteps approaching from far behind him.