"Going out, huh?"

Wang Chen's voice carried a faint note of contemplation, his brows furrowing slightly as he studied Li Mei.

Just moments earlier, she had expressed her wish to leave the dojo—her tone respectful but unwavering.

Ordinarily, it wouldn't have been a matter worth much thought. But Wang Chen wasn't dealing with an ordinary disciple.

He leaned back slightly in his chair, the old wood creaking beneath him as he regarded her in silence. The courtyard was calm, sunlight filtering through the leaves of the bodhi tree, painting golden patches across the stone tiles. Yet beneath that serenity, a faint sense of unease filled his heart.

Li Mei, on the other hand, stood quietly with her hands clasped before her, her gaze distant, lost in thought.

Her mind wasn't here. It was already back in the small village she intended to return to—the place that, for her, held both opportunity and ghosts of the past.

Sky Dew village situated near Silversky lake. This simple village hid one of the biggest opportunities that could change the fate of any mortal. She remembered them clearly—in her last life a cultivator going by the daoist name had transformed from a mere mortal to proud dragon, among all the opportunities that she knew this was the safest option.

Foundation Building…

The words echoed in her mind like a mantra.

Though her master's presence offered a layer of protection, she knew it couldn't last forever. Depending on others went against everything she'd learned from her previous life's mistakes. She needed her own power—enough to stand, to survive, and to fight when the time came.

And the time was coming. The signs were everywhere—the faint distortions in Qi flow, the tremors that whispered through the world. The demonic invasion would not wait for anyone. Before that catastrophe unfolded, she had to at least reach the peak of the Foundation Establishment Realm.

It was an ambitious goal. To others, perhaps delusional. But Li Mei had long abandoned the luxury of doubt.

Her eyes flickered with a faint, fiery resolve as she thought of the fire-type Heaven and Earth treasure said to rest within the volcanic hills near that village. Back then, at her former cultivation—Deity Transformation—it had been beneath her notice. Now, it was the key to rebuilding herself.

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "I have to go."

Both master and disciple sat in silence—one burdened by foreboding, the other fueled by determination.

Then, without warning, the atmosphere shifted.

Wang Chen's expression darkened slightly, his pupils contracting as a familiar blue shimmer flickered before his eyes.

A system window appeared, its words stark and merciless against the air:

[New Quest Issued – Path to Foundation Building]

[Your disciple is at a critical stage in her cultivation. Help her break through to the Foundation Establishment Realm.]

[Reward will depend on the grade of the foundation built.]

[Accept / Reject]

Wang Chen's heartbeat quickened. His gaze sharpened.

A quest—spontaneous and unsummoned. He hadn't taken one in days, not since the incident with Bu Fang. For it to appear now, of all times...

His eyes shifted toward Li Mei, who remained unaware, still lost in her thoughts.

"The moment she mentioned leaving," he muttered under his breath, "the quest appeared…"

Could this trip and her breakthrough be connected?

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, though a subtle tension crept into his shoulders. The more he pondered it, the heavier the weight in his gut became.

The world outside the Imperial City was chaos incarnate—infested with beasts, bandits, and remnants of demonic influence. A fragile Qi Refining cultivator stepping into that storm would be as good as throwing herself into a pit of wolves.

A soft breeze rustled through the leaves, carrying with it the faint scent of burning incense from the training hall.

Wang Chen's eyes grew distant for a moment before narrowing sharply. His instincts—those honed through countless lifetimes and near-death experiences—twitched like a predator's ear catching movement in the dark.

A cold prickle ran down his spine.

"Li Mei's life… is going to be in danger."

He didn't know how he knew. He simply knew.

The same quiet intuition that had saved him a thousand times before whispered the warning now—clear and certain.

His fingers tightened slightly on the armrest. The gentle rocking of his chair stopped.

Outside, the wind seemed to die, as if the world itself had gone still in anticipation of what was to come.

Opposite him, Li Mei waited quietly for his answer.

A few minutes passed. The only sounds were the gentle creak of the rocking chair and the rustle of the wind through the bodhi leaves outside. Wang Chen's expression didn't shift at all—eyes half-closed, features calm, as if the matter didn't warrant urgency.

Still, Li Mei couldn't help herself. Her fingers fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve, her gaze occasionally flicking up to him in secret.

What's taking Master so long to decide?

Her heart drummed softly. She wasn't the kind to be impatient, but something about the stillness of the room—the faint scent of sandalwood, the muted hush of the air—made her chest tighten.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, Wang Chen's voice finally broke the silence.

"Postpone going out for a few days."

The words were simple. Calm. Final.

For a moment, Li Mei blinked, unsure if she'd heard him right. There was no explanation, no reasoning—just an order.

Then, before she could ask anything more, Wang Chen exhaled slowly and closed his eyes again, his breathing growing deep and steady as if he had already returned to meditation. The conversation was over.

Li Mei stood still for a heartbeat longer, confusion flickering across her delicate face. Then, as always, she bowed silently and left the room.

Outside, the dojo courtyard was quiet except for the rhythmic sound of wood striking air.

Lin Huang was practicing alone, bare arms tensed as he swung a worn stick with precise movements. The sharpness of his intent seemed to cut through the morning stillness—the faint hum of sword qi followed every strike, distorting the air.

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