The crisp mountain air was thin, almost biting, yet it carried with it an undeniable stillness. Li Yun followed behind the sect leader in silence, his gaze fixed on the path winding ever higher. The sect leader had said little since they departed, but his posture was relaxed, as if this was no more than a casual errand. Li Yun knew better.

  His new peak was unlike anything he had expected.

  As they ascended the final stretch, the scenery unfolded before him—a peak higher than the sect leader’s own, yet hidden behind it, shielded from view. The spatial distortions surrounding it made it seem almost unreal, a place untouched by the sect’s presence.

  "This peak has remained unclaimed for centuries," the sect leader finally spoke, his voice carrying through the wind, laced with something indecipherable. "For good reason. Few can handle its isolation, and fewer still have been worthy of it." He cast a long glance over the landscape before fixing his piercing gaze on Li Yun. "I chose this place because it exists beyond the perception of the sect, hidden in the folds of space itself. Here, you are free to cultivate without fear of harming others, but you will also be beyond their reach. Even if you lose control, no ruin will befall those below—only yourself."

  Li Yun shivered, though not from the cold. There was something unsettling in the sect leader’s tone, an implication that went unspoken. This wasn’t just a place of solitude—it was a place where the forgotten could remain forgotten. The peak itself felt eerily detached from the world, the silence so thick it was almost oppressive. "So, it’s a cage," he muttered, though he already suspected the answer.

  The sect leader let out a quiet chuckle, the sound devoid of humor. "A prison for some. A sanctuary for others. Which it will be for you depends entirely on your own strength."

  Li Yun exhaled slowly. "So it’s a cage."

  The sect leader chuckled. "Call it what you will. I see it as a safeguard. Whether it keeps you in or protects others from you… that depends on your control."

  As they reached the summit, Li Yun’s eyes fell upon the wooden house nestled against the mountainside. It was simple, unassuming, yet something about it felt… sturdy. More than just its construction, there was an energy woven into its very foundation.

  "Spirit-infused wood," the sect leader explained, noting Li Yun’s stare. "It will not rot, nor will it yield to storms. This home will remain standing long after you’ve left your mark on this world."

  "Comforting," Li Yun muttered, though he wasn’t sure if he meant it.

  "A home is only as comforting as the person who resides within it," the sect leader said. "And you, Li Yun, are not yet at peace with yourself."

  Li Yun said nothing.

  The sect leader motioned towards the forest beyond the house. "This peak, though small in appearance, holds a spatial formation within. What you see is merely the surface. Beyond, a vast woodland exists, teeming with life—both natural and otherwise."

  "Demonic beasts?" Li Yun asked, already knowing the answer.

  "Correct. Some are weak, no stronger than an outer disciple could handle. Others…" The sect leader’s gaze darkened, his voice dropping to something more solemn. "Are remnants of something far older. Beasts twisted by time, by forgotten energies that seep through the very fabric of this place. Creatures that should not exist, yet persist. Their instincts honed by centuries of survival, their malice undiluted by the passage of time."

  Li Yun felt a strange chill creep up his spine. "Then… staying away from them should be enough, right?"

  The sect leader let out a quiet sigh. "If only it were that simple. You must understand, isolation does not guarantee safety. The deeper you tread into these lands, the less you will find the laws of nature to be reliable. Some of these beasts do not hunt for hunger, nor do they obey mortal reasoning. They are drawn to power, to fluctuations in qi. Some lie in wait for those who dare to challenge the unknown, while others…" His voice lowered further. "Simply wish for something to destroy."

  Li Yun's fingers clenched slightly. He had encountered danger before, but this—this was different. "Have many disciples faced them?"

  "Few have ever come here. And fewer still have left." The sect leader’s expression remained impassive, yet his words carried a weight that made Li Yun uneasy. "Mark my words, Li Yun. You are alone here—but never truly alone. Even in silence, something watches. Something waits. Never forget that."

  Li Yun glanced at the tree line. A large part of him wanted to scoff at the warning, but he held his tongue. He had seen too much in too little time to underestimate anything now.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The sect leader turned back to him and handed over several small bags, each one considerably heavy.

  "These are grain pills. Five bags, twenty kilograms each. Proper cultivation will stretch this supply for five years. Waste them, and you will learn hunger the hard way."

  Li Yun took the bags, slinging them over his shoulder. "Understood."

  The sect leader then handed him a single, unmarked manual. "This is for your cultivation. It is not something given lightly. This technique will help you control the rampant qi within your dantian. Without it, your path ends before it even begins."

  Li Yun took the manual carefully, thumbing through the pages. Each stroke of ink carried profound meaning, a structured path laid bare for him.

  The moment his fingers brushed over the cover, a familiar voice echoed in his mind.

  [System Notification: A top-tier cultivation manual has been obtained. Probability of success in taming unstable qi: 27%.]

  Li Yun's eye twitched. Only 27%?

  [System Analysis: Additional techniques required. Current foundation lacking. Estimated probability of failure leading to potential implosion: 73%.]

  His fingers tightened around the manual. So it’s a gamble.

  [Correction: It’s your gamble.]

  He let out a slow breath. "You couldn’t have led with that information?"

  [You didn’t ask.]

  Li Yun resisted the urge to rub his temples. The sect leader gave him an unreadable look but said nothing, instead walking towards the edge of the peak where a waterfall cascaded down into the unseen depths below.

  "Down this path," the sect leader gestured, "past the large tree, you will find a spatial array. It will take you back to the base of the disciples’ area should you choose to leave. However…" He paused, his gaze lingering on Li Yun, his expression unreadable. "I suspect you will find little reason to return. And even if you do, it would not be the reunion you imagine."

  Li Yun stiffened slightly. "What do you mean?"

  The sect leader’s voice lowered, carrying the weight of unspoken truths. "Your presence there, as you are now, is dangerous. Not because of any ill intent on your part, but because power breeds fear. The disciples who once saw you as a peer may no longer view you the same. Some will envy. Some will fear. Others may seek to test you. Regardless of the outcome, you are not yet in control of yourself. If you return too soon, the ones you once called friends may suffer for it."

  A cold knot formed in Li Yun’s chest. He had thought about it—briefly—but hearing it so plainly unsettled him. He had seen the looks in their eyes during the exam, the moment his control had slipped. A mixture of awe and apprehension, of admiration tainted by something less pure. "So you’re saying I should stay here indefinitely."

  "I am saying," the sect leader corrected, "that until you understand your own power, you will bring more harm than good to those you wish to protect. If you care for them, truly, then patience is the least you can offer."

  Li Yun understood the implication.

  The moment he had lost control, the moment his bloodline surfaced, everything had changed. The bonds he thought he had formed in the sect would not hold. Fear, uncertainty, distance—they would build walls higher than this peak itself.

  "This place is yours now, Li Yun," the sect leader said finally, his gaze sweeping across the peak as though seeing it anew. "It belongs to you in its entirety. Whether you reshape the land, carve paths through the mountains, or even build a grander dwelling to replace what has been provided, it is your right." His eyes, steady and piercing, met Li Yun’s. "And in the distant future, should you grow strong enough, you may even take disciples here, forge your own legacy within these isolated heights. But understand this—what you do with this place will reflect the path you choose to walk."

  Li Yun processed the words in silence. His own peak, a place where he alone decided the rules. It was something beyond what he had ever imagined. Yet, the weight of it was unmistakable. This was not just an honor—it was a responsibility.

  "You will not be entirely alone forever," the sect leader continued. "I will check on you… but perhaps only once every twenty years or so." He exhaled lightly, as if remembering something distant. "Longevity cultivators perceive time differently. Decades pass as fleeting moments to those who walk our path. When I return, I expect to see progress. What you do with these years will define not just your strength, but your worthiness."

  Li Yun swallowed. Two decades. For others, it might have felt like a lifetime, but in the grand scheme of cultivation, it was little more than the blink of an eye. Still, it was enough time to lose oneself. He nodded slowly. "I understand."

  The sect leader regarded him for a long moment before giving a slight nod. "Your choices here will define you. Make them wisely."

  With that, the sect leader turned, his robes billowing as he descended the mountain path, leaving Li Yun standing alone atop the peak.

  The silence stretched.

  Li Yun sighed, shifting the bags on his shoulder before glancing around. The vast emptiness was suffocating, stretching endlessly in every direction like a void carved from the heavens themselves. The land was his, yet it felt alien—too large, too still, too untouched. The silence pressed against him, not comforting but oppressive, as if the weight of the unclaimed space bore down on him, demanding he make it his own. The wind howled through the trees, carrying with it a whisper of loneliness that settled in his chest like a stone. He had yearned for a place to belong, but now, standing at the precipice of his newfound domain, he wondered if this desolation would consume him before he could claim it.

  [System Notification: Commencing ‘Nothing to Do’ Protocol.]

  Li Yun narrowed his eyes. "What."

  [Initiating boredom analysis…]

  "I swear, if you—"

  [Boredom level: 87%. Recommended actions: Self-reflection, reading, immediate cultivation, yelling into the void.]

  Li Yun stared at the system’s text. "You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?"

  [Your suffering is my entertainment.]

  Li Yun exhaled sharply. "Fine. If I’m stuck here, I might as well start." He set the grain pills and manual inside his house before heading toward the waterfall.

  One step at a time.