When Song Yi woke up he, for the first time since entering the sect’s grounds, didn’t have a specific task ahead. From this moment on, he was free. Of course, he was still poor, but he already had some ideas about how to change that.

Unfortunately, his ideas would have to be put on hold. Emperor Wang had other plans.

“Alright brat, it’s time for you to start training.”

Song Yi’s face turned glum. “Training?”

Had he become a free man just to spend his days in tired agony?

“I told you, didn’t I? The sooner you get strong, the sooner I’ll be gone and you can go back to doing whatever it is you do.”

Song Yi did have to concede that point. After all this time, he still hated having someone else inside of him.

“Alright, fine. What do I have to do?”

“Good boy. First thing’s first, one-thousand pushups.”

Song Yi froze. “Excuse me?”

“I know damn well you heard me. You can’t NOT hear me!”

The room turned silent.

Five minutes later, ragged breathing could be heard.

“One hundred twenty three…”

“One hundred twenty four…”

“One hundred twenty five…”

Why was he being subjected to this torture? How was this going to help him? He’d seen plenty of people in his life before who were bulky and muscled, but Song Yi was confident that, right now, all of them would fall like ants to the current him. In fact, were he surrounded like he was before in Zhongtian, he would be able to escape without breaking a sweat.

He’d been reticent to train before, but had at least expected the task to involve something more surreal, like how he’d earlier discovered Qi. But instead the old geezer insisted on this spartan torture.

Sweat dripped from his face to the floor. Gritting his teeth he asked,

“Why are we doing this?”

The monarch chuckled.

“The process of becoming stronger, we call it ‘Cultivation.’ In the same way one cultivates a sapling into a tall, strong tree, one must do the same with their body!”

Song Yi nodded, still struggling to do push-ups.

“That makes sense and all, but isn’t there something more, you know…”

“The most important thing when you begin is to establish a strong foundation. Without a suitably strong body, you will never be able to bring out the full potential of your Qi. Balance is essential. So for now, you temper your flesh.”

Song Yi felt enlightened.

With renewed motivation, he eventually finished the pushups and rolled onto his back, panting.

“Oh? You already knew what was coming next? Good job! 1000 sit-ups!”

Song Yi’s face lost all colour.

“I don’t think I can-“

“You can. Haven’t you realized it by now?” The old man shook his proverbial head in disappointment. Song Yi still hadn’t figured out how he was able to convey that.

“Brat, use your Qi! You’ve accumulated enough after yesterday. By exercising you can stimulate the Qi to strengthen your muscles, bones and skin. This is crucial. From now on, every movement you make, imbue it with Qi.”

When Song Yi attempted to do as he said, the sit-ups suddenly became far easier.

Of course, that meant he’d just done 1000 push-ups the hard way for no reason.

Resolving to get back at the monarch later, he continued his sit-ups. With every single one, he felt the Qi nourishing his body. It was exhilarating.

Once he was in the 900s, however, he suddenly felt that he’d run out of Qi. When he asked the monarch about this, he found out the explanation was simple.

“You only managed to contact a few threads of Qi the other night. It seems it wasn’t enough for you to do any significant strengthening.”

“So I have to search for Qi for hours just to strengthen myself a little bit? Is there no better way?”

“There are no shortcuts to cultivation. It takes extensive time and effort.”

Song Yi was dissatisfied with the answer, and Emperor Wang could tell.

“Fine, I suppose there’s one way. If you can find an area that’s dense with Qi, you’d be able to absorb it without meditating.”

“Where could I find such a place?”

“They’re rare, so sects monopolize them. There’s no way this sect wouldn’t have any, but they certainly wouldn’t give them to a nobody like you.”

“In other words, I need to obtain a higher position in the sect?”

“Precisely.”

With this new information, Song Yi devised a plan. He had found out from Chen Hu the other day that sect disciples could be promoted in a few ways.

The first and most common way was to cultivate to the second realm. Song Yi hadn’t asked what that meant, but given that his current predicament was how to cultivate faster, that clearly wasn’t viable.

The second was to be noticed by an inner sect disciple and be taken as a personal disciple. Song Yi thought about asking Big Sis Xiulan, but figured the other four, who were all far stronger than him, would’ve come to the same conclusion. Having a personal disciple as well was a taxing responsibility. Most inner sect disciples wouldn’t take one, and those who did only did so because they found someone exceptional.

That left the third option. This was what Song Yi banked his chances on. This method was to pay sect credits to be promoted directly.

Because it was a promotion regardless of one’s actual strength or ability, those who used this method would often be seen in a poor light. Despite this, it was still an official promotion.

As for how much was required, it was a large sum, but Song Yi had a few ideas about how to reach it.

After discussing with the monarch, the old man agreed. After all, the sooner Song Yi became strong, the sooner he would be free.

To enact this plan, Song Yi would first need to learn some more battle techniques. Since he had already contacted a third-tier essence, that would be the best place to start.

With aching muscles, Song Yi left his cabin.

The instant he did, he felt his fingers itching.

After a cursory glance around the area, he discovered why. Near the edge of the woods, two female disciples were sparring. Their attacks were powerful and decisive. These two even had a small crowd watching. Song Yi guessed that they were probably Xu Fan and Luo Ai.

As for who was who, he couldn’t tell. The only reason he could guess their identities was because Chen Hu had mentioned that among the strongest members of the camp were two women by those names.

What he did notice was that one of them had taken off an overcoat that would’ve hindered her in the fight. The overcoat was folded neatly, and on top of it was a beautiful jade hairpin. It seemed she’d worried about it getting in the way of the fight as well.

Seeing the expensive item placed off to the side unsupervised, Song Yi hesitated. Eyeing the duel happening nearby, he saw the two completely focused on each other. If one were to become distracted, they would immediately lose. Similarly, none of the onlooking crowd were had an eye in his direction.

Unable to restrain himself, he walked past it. When he did, he deftly kneeled down and palmed the item, walking away once more in a normal fashion.

Emperor Wang was stunned. To anyone who did happen to see Song Yi, it would’ve looked as though he’d simply stumbled for a moment before righting himself.

Of all the things for this brat to be skilled at, and skilled at to a terrifying degree, it was stealing.

“That’s…” Emperor Wang choked on his words. “How could you be so reprehensible?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Song Yi didn’t care that the monarch could tell every little thing about him, he would stick to his guns — follow his creed: Deny! Deny! Deny!

“Return it this instant!”

“Return what?”

“Brat, you… you...”

“I’m really not sure what you’re referring to, Emperor Wang. Perhaps in your age you’ve become prone to confusion?”

“You know perfectly well what I mean!”

Song Yi sighed. “I’m afraid I don’t. You’ll have to tell me.”

“You just stole the hairpin of your fellow sect member!” The monarch’s loud voice bounced around Song Yi’s head, paining him. He refused to show it though.

“Me? Why would I do that? What use do I have for a hairpin?”

“How should I know?” the old man screamed, completely out of patience.

“Calm down, grandpa.”

That was the last straw.

Suddenly, Song Yi fell to the ground, writhing in pain. He grasped his head in both hands. Again, the crown had popped up.

The pain stopped in the exact same fashion it had arrived. Song Yi’s expression turned foul, but he said nothing, for fear of further retribution. Fortunately, nobody had been around to see him collapse.

After gathering himself once more, he continued to walk. Instead of heading straight for the library, Song Yi made his way to Su Bai’s village. Not seeing his friend anywhere, he knocked on her door.

No response.

He picked the lock and entered, borrowing the materials on her desk to write a note.

“Bai’er,

I saw this and thought you might like it.

Wishing you well,

Song Yi.”

Having never written before, his handwriting was shaky and childish. Because of this, he took his time and wrote deliberate strokes, as best he could.

He left the note on Su Bai’s bed, and took out the jade hairpin to place beside.

“There! That! That jade hairpin!” the monarch cried in vindication.

Song Yi had an innocent expression on his face. “What, this? I found it earlier today.”

“Fou- found it?!”

The monarch wanted to cry. How had someone as just and upright as him ended up in the body of this brute, this ruffian? The injustice was enough to madden any man.

Song Yi chuckled as he exited the village. With no more thoughts in his head about how the monarch had punished him, he made his way to the spire.

When Song Yi had first entered the Blue Moon Sect, he’d been nothing but trash on the street, penniless and ignored. He was at the bottom rung of society. But only a short time later, he had become far stronger and far more mature than his previous self. Now he was qualified to look down on those who had once looked down on him.

But here he was once more, at the bottom rung of a new, much more terrifying, society. Speaking relatively, it was as though nothing had changed.

He walked through the Spire until he came across an open bookstore.

When he entered, he saw a large group of female disciples chittering amongst themselves in one corner of the space. There was no one manning the front desk.

Since Song Yi didn’t know his way around the store, he decided to walk over and see if he could get directions. As he got closer, he saw that in the middle of the group was a young man. His features were handsome, with high cheekbones and clear skin. He had long silky black hair that flowed unrestrained down to his waist. He was the most beautiful man Song Yi had ever laid eyes on.

And not only that, but the back of his robe sported a gibbous moon.

Now things made sense.

This was one of the Zenith, one of the twenty-six figures at the peak of the Blue Moon Sect’s younger generation. The surrounding group of girls hung on his every word. Most of them weren’t even store attendants, but were still offering to show him around to anything he needed.

“Excuse me,” Song Yi said, trying to grab one attendant’s attention.

He wasn’t even noticed.

He tried again, but louder so as to rise above the din of excited women. “Excuse me!”

This time, he was loud enough to be heard, and a girl turned to look at him.

“What?”

Song Yi was paralyzed by her bitter gaze. Inside his mind, the monarch was laughing raucously, enjoying every second after what Song Yi had pulled earlier.

Clearing his throat, he asked, “Do you know where I can find a book on shadow-essence arts?”

The girl looked at him with a bored expression. “Right over ther-”

“Hold it for a moment!”

The Zenith member, whom Song Yi had heard called ‘Lord Yang,’ interrupted.

“Junior brother, you’re new to the sect, right? It’s far too early for you to attempt a third-tier essence. Come, try these instead.” The man smiled genuinely as he motioned Song Yi over to another section of the store.

Suddenly, all the girls stared venomously at Song Yi. Jealous flames danced in their pupils.

“Why does he get noticed by Lord Yang?”

“Right? Isn’t he just some novitiate?”

Their muttering did not fall on deaf ears. In fact, they didn’t bother to conceal it from Song Yi.

To begin with, Song Yi wasn’t prideful. Yet this treatment still wounded him on a fundamental level. Still, what could he do?

Tail between his legs, he followed Lord Yang.

The man took him to a shelf where a variety of simple looking books could be seen.

“This is the beginner’s section. I don’t know what essences you have an affinity for, but you should probably be safe with any of the basic four — fire, water, air or earth.”

Song Yi’s eye twitched. Zenith or not, just how patronizing could this fellow be?

“Er…”

The man laughed.

“I understand, it can be hard to choose,” he said, placing a delicate and perfect hand on Song Yi’s shoulder. “Here, how about I help you decide?”

Lord Yang held his chin in a contemplative manner, as if he were thinking about which books would be best for this new disciple he’d taken an interest in.

At the same time, Song Yi suddenly heard a new voice in his head.

“The shadow essence books are to your right. Which did you want? I’ll grab them for you.”

Song Yi was bewildered. It sounded exactly like when the monarch spoke to him.

“How are you-”

“Soul transmission. Don’t worry about it, just follow my lead. Tell me which books.”

Song Yi told him the titles of three that caught his eye.

Out loud once more, Lord Yang deliberately said, “This earth technique should be easy for you to pick up.” He took a book titled ‘Grounded Steps Minor Art’ off the shelf, handing it to Song Yi.

Song Yi’s eye twitched once more. What a lame name! Still, he played along.

“Junior thanks Lord Yang for your magnanimity,” he said, bowing.

The other man laughed. “It’s no problem, no problem at all. As for me, I’ll take these three books.”

He picked up the books Song Yi had pointed out.

As they were too focused on Lord Yang himself, none of the dreamy-eyed girls made the connection.

“Ladies, I’m afraid we’ll have to part here. You see, this fledgling doesn’t know the difference between the heavens and earth yet. He clearly needs my guidance. My heart reaches out to him, so I’ll be taking my leave.”

“No!”

“Teach me instead!”

He cut them off, still wearing his charming smile.

“I’ve made my decision. Perhaps another day.”

With that, he yanked on Song Yi’s arm and pulled him out of the shop. Controlling a flying sword to pick up Song Yi, he flew through the air at full speed to a storage space far from the bookstore.

The space was large, decorated in a way befitting of a Zenith disciple. Within it were training dummies, a weapons rack and a desk that held assorted pills and cultivation resources. Lord Yang had opened it by unraveling a seal with Qi, so obviously there were no other disciples within.

When Song Yi saw the pills laying out in the open, his eyes lingered on them for a moment. The monarch noticed.

“Don’t even think about it you imp!”

Before Song Yi could protest his innocence, Lord Yang interjected.

“Sorry ‘bout that, eh?” The man’s parlance and the way he held himself were completely different from before, the pretty-boy exterior gone as though it had never existed. Song Yi was stunned momentarily.

“You alright there?” the man asked, seeing the sudden confused look.

“I…”

“Oh right, your books.”

Song Yi received the three techniques he’d asked for.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“I forgot to disguise myself today, and didn’t notice until it was too late. Before I knew it, I was surrounded. When you came in, I’d been looking for a way to escape for a while. Thanks for saving me.”

Song Yi chuckled at that. It seemed being too noticeable had its own downsides.

“By the way, are you sure about learning that? Shadow essence arts are hard without good Qi control y’know. Especially that major one you got there.”

With a confident smirk, Song Yi bowed.

“Thank you for your concern, Senior, but I’ll be fine.” Another thought occurred to him mid-sentence. “By the way, how much do these cost?”

“Hm? Not much, maybe 20,000 sect credits.”

Not much? Not much to who?! That was a fortune!

Song Yi’s vision went black. While he tried to control his heart rate after hearing that frightening figure, the other man continued.

“Y’know, guys like you are pretty cool. Whenever I go out without a disguise, people just won’t leave me alone. I guess it’s cause of the whole Zenith thing.”

“Did it ever happen to you before you joined the Zenith?”

“Huh? That was hundreds of years ago, it’s kinda hard to remember…” He paused to think. “Actually, come to think of it, yeah, it’s been like this for a long time.”

“Isn’t it just because of your looks, then?” Song Yi thought, but didn’t say out loud. This earned a snort from the monarch.

“Well, I won’t keep you, senior. I’ll head back to my village now.”

Song Yi turned in a hurry to leave, but was interrupted.

“Wait a moment!” Lord Yang said.

Song Yi turned around to see a glass bottle flying through the air. He deftly caught it.

“This is my way of saying thanks. If you’re learning shadow techniques, it should help.”

Looking at what was in his hand, Song Yi saw a pill with pitch-black coating.

He bowed sincerely to Lord Yang, feeling bad for having initially misjudged him. For the man to get him the books was already more than enough thanks. Add this pill to that, and it became a favour that Song Yi would not soon be able to pay.

“I will remember this kindness.”