A jade-feathered sparrow flitted through the pale morning light, its wings a near-silent whisper against the cool air.

  It landed delicately on the branch of a gnarled plum tree, preening a single feather before tilting its head, its beady black eye fixed on the paper-screened window of a nearby Outer Disciple dorm room.

  Inside, a shock of pink hair emerged from a tangle of blankets.

  A figure sat up, a jaw-cracking yawn escaping her lips that held no trace of actual sleepiness.

  Her back straightened with a satisfying stretch, the nascent energy of the day already thrumming through her veins.

  With the fluid grace of a practiced hunter, she swung her feet over the edge of the wooden bed frame and hopped down.

  Thud.

  "Oops, sorry!"

  A low, muffled groan emanated from the floor beside the bed.

  A quiet chuckle escaped her lips as the lump under a thin grey blanket shifted irritably.

  "It's your fault for putting your fancy mattress right in my landing zone!" she whispered back, a grin tugging at her lips.

  She gave the figure a light nudge with her foot. It didn't stir.

  Her gaze swept across the room, taking in the controlled chaos.

  The dented furnace in the corner was still faintly warm, and the sharp, earthy scent of crushed herbs hung in the air.

  A stone mortar and pestle lay on the floor near the sleeping figure, surrounded by scattered green remnants and discarded stems.

  She wrinkled her nose, planting her hands on her hips.

  "Just because I'm living here now does not mean I'll be your maid!" she announced to the silent room, a soft giggle following her declaration.

  Her arms shot upwards, reaching for the ceiling.

  A cascade of sharp pops echoed from her spine, shoulders, and knuckles as she worked out the last vestiges of sleep from her joints.

  Re-energized, her eyes fell upon the weapon leaning against the wall.

  Her hand clasped around the familiar shaft of her golden spear.

  "Good as new," she murmured, her reflection gleaming on the polished surface of the Dragon-Fang head. "Shinier than ever, even!"

  Waving a dismissive hand towards the mattress on the floor, she moved to the door.

  "I'm headed off, sleepyhead." She didn't wait for a reply that would never come. The door closed behind her with a soft click.

  The moment she stepped out into the crisp morning air of the courtyard, another Outer Disciple walking past stopped in his tracks.

  "Oh, if it isn't Sister Ying Xia." He respectfully folded his hands together in a formal greeting.

  "O-Oh! Good morning, Brother!" she replied, a bead of sweat tracing a path down her temple as she clumsily returned the gesture.

  Jeez, I'm still not used to all this bowing and scraping...

  Her thoughts were cut off as the disciple cleared his throat.

  "I was walking by the marketplace earlier, and I came across… him." He shook his head, a weary sigh escaping his lips.

  "He's asked for a duel with you once again. He said he'll be waiting by the Outer Disciple Training Yard."

  Ying Xia crossed her arms, her earlier cheerfulness replaced by a familiar spark of irritation.

  "That idiot," she muttered, her brow furrowing. "Does he actually enjoy eating dust? I swear!" Her fists clenched, knuckles turning white as her teeth ground together.

  "Fine. I'll make sure to beat him to a pulp this time so he won't dare ask for a duel again!"

  The disciple instinctively took a small step back, unnerved by the sudden shift in her demeanor.

  "Y-You really are formidable, Sister Xia. You've only been here for a short while, yet you've already surpassed most of the Outer Disciples' achievements."

  A nervous laugh escaped her mouth, and she scratched at the back of her pink-haired head, the battle-lust receding as quickly as it had appeared.

  "H-Haha... that's what geniuses like me do!"

  After exchanging a few more words, they part ways.

  She waved at the shrinking figure of the disciple, a satisfied sigh escaping her lips.

  Another fight on the schedule.

  Good. It kept things interesting.But first, a more pressing matter.

  A loud growl from her stomach settled it.

  "Time to buy some ingredients from the market. I'm starving."

  She navigated the familiar stone pathways of the Outer Sect, her golden spear resting comfortably on her shoulder.

  As she passed the Contribution Hall, the sound of a raised, indignant voice drew her attention.

  "What do you mean this only gives me three contribution points per stalk?!"

  A scrawny young Outer Disciple, his robes frayed at the edges, had his hand balled into a fist, pointing accusingly at a portly older disciple standing behind the exchange counter.

  The older disciple picked at his teeth with a sliver of wood, looking utterly bored.

  "Times change, kid. That Crimson-Vein Leaf isn't as valuable as it used to be."

  "You bastard!" The young disciple lunged, grabbing the collar of the older man's robes and shoving him against the stone pillar behind the counter.

  "Just a few months ago, you were paying seven points for this! Seven!"

  The older disciple barely flinched, a smug, predatory look in his eyes

  "Let go of me," he said, his voice an oily calm, "and I'll still honor our deal. You know as well as I do that no one else bothers buying that junk anymore, except me and a few Inner Disciples."

  His gaze sharpened. "And you think one of them would even spare you a glance, let alone trade fairly?"

  The fight visibly drained from the younger disciple. His hand loosened, and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

  "Alright..." He pulled out a worn burlap satchel filled with dried, crimson-veined leaves and tossed it onto the counter.

  "But I want four contribution points each for the whole lot. That's... thirty-six!" he declared, his voice lacking any real conviction.

  Ying Xia, who had been watching from the side, scratched her head.

  Thirty-six points for that whole bag? He's getting fleeced.

  A thought sparked in her mind.

  The man on the floor back in her room was always burning through herbs for his concoctions.

  He might find these useful.

  With a grin, she strutted forward, deliberately letting the butt of her golden spear tap against the stone floor.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  The morning sun caught the polished Dragon-Fang head, sending a brilliant flash of light across the faces of the two men.

  The older disciple’s eyes widened, his gaze fixed on the weapon.

  "A... a Soul-Tier spear!" he stammered, his merchant-like composure cracking as he hastily took a step back.

  "Ahem," Ying Xia cleared her throat, planting the spear beside her. "You two gentlemen. May I ask what that herb is called?"

  The young disciple instinctively snatched the bag of leaves closer to his chest, his eyes darting from her to her weapon.

  "Mind… mind holding back your spear a bit?" he asked, his breath uneven.

  Ying Xia noticed his unease and tilted her head, her expression softening slightly.

  "Calm down, I'm not here to rob you." She straightened up, a confident smirk returning to her face.

  "I'm actually here to buy them." She thumped a fist against her chest.

  "This fellow right here," she said, pointing a thumb at the portly disciple, "is obviously low-balling you. How about I take those off your hands for five contribution points each!"

  The young disciple's eyes lit up, a slow, disbelieving smile spreading across his face. "R-Really?! Thank the heavens! I'll sell them to yo—"

  A hand shot out, blocking his view. "Now hold on there," the older disciple snarled, his eyes narrowing at Ying Xia.

  He sized her up, from her dusty boots to her gleaming spear, and a faint current of Qi began to circulate around him.

  "I'm the one buying these. Butt out."

  "Hoh?" Ying Xia's smile turned sharp.

  "Last I checked, the seller has the right to sell to anyone he wants!" She yanked her spear from the ground and slammed its butt into the packed earth a few feet away with a resonant thump.

  "How about we settle this, then?"

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  She casually swept a stray strand of pink hair from her face.

  "I'm a fair individual, after all!" With a single, explosive leap, she landed ten paces back, dropping into a low fighting stance.

  Her smile widened, predatory and full of excitement.

  "We duel. Winner gets to buy the herbs!"

  Hidden amongst the shade of the towering cypress trees that lined the courtyard, a Junior Elder cleared his throat, his gaze fixed on the unfolding scene.

  "Now listen here, recruit," he murmured to the younger disciple beside him, who was frantically scratching notes onto a wooden clipboard.

  "You analyze their moves. This is a formal duel."

  The Junior Elder pulled out his own small, leather-bound notebook.

  "You will write down the events, the techniques used, and the outcome. This is how we track the official records of every disciple. Their wins, their losses, it all goes into the archives."

  The recruit nodded eagerly, his pen never ceasing its frantic dance.

  "Yes, Senior Brother!"

  "Now, this is crucial," the Elder's eyes sharpened, his voice dropping to a serious whisper.

  "We don't just record. We ensure the sect's rules are upheld. No killing. No crippling. The moment it looks like one of them is about to cross that line, we intervene. Understood?"

  The recruit gulped, his eyes darting between the two combatants. "A-Alright, I get it now, Senior Brother..."

  The Junior Elder snapped his fingers. "Good. Now, write! They're about to clash. Get the details!"

  "Y-Yes!"

  Out in the sunlit clearing, Ying Xia took a confident step forward, her stance relaxed but ready, radiating an aura of arrogant certainty.

  She announced her status, her voice clear and ringing with power.

  "Ying Xia, Outer Disciple. [QI SENSING REALM] [STAGE 8]!"

  "Stage... eight..." the recruit whispered in awe, his hand trembling slightly as he wrote.

  The portly disciple, Chen Afu, flinched at the declaration but knew he was in too deep to back down now.

  He hesitantly stepped forward, nodding to accept the challenge.

  "Fair enough," he grumbled, his voice lacking any of her confidence.

  "Chen Afu, Outer Disciple. Qi Sensing Realm, Stage 7."

  The recruit’s pen flew across the page.

  "On this very day, early in the morning, in front of the Contribution Hall, a duel commenced between Outer Disciples Ying Xia and Chen Afu over a trade dispute. The winner generally favors the higher-stage cultivator, but Chen Afu is noted for his brawling style, often punching above his weight. Will his record of upsetting stronger opponents remain intact?"

  The Junior Elder peered over the recruit's shoulder and clapped lightly. "Ooh! I love it! Adding a little narrative flair! That'll sell well in the next volume of the Jade Duel Record!"

  Ying Xia gestured with her fingers, a mocking "come hither" motion.

  "Don't blame me if I break all your bones, Sister!" Chen Afu roared, finally finding his courage.

  He leaped forward, his fist shooting out like a cannonball.

  With a contemptuous scoff, Ying Xia slapped the punch away with an open palm, the force barely registering.

  She took a step closer, invading his space without even bothering to throw a counterattack.

  "That all you got?" she taunted.

  Gritting his teeth in frustration, Chen Afu leaped backward, putting distance between them.

  "You'll regret not taking that chance! It won't happen again!" He settled into a new, lower stance, his hands held like claws as Qi began to visibly shimmer around his fists.

  "Oh? A formal fighting art?" the recruit noted aloud, already writing it down. "Chen Afu has initiated a known martial technique from the sect library archives. He is using the Dissipating Ember Arts."

  "Hyah!" Chen Afu exploded into motion.

  His attacks were a flurry of scorching-fast strikes, a ferocious barrage of fists and kicks that seemed to grow faster and more coordinated with every passing moment, leaving faint trails of heat in the air.

  "Hehe!" A delighted laugh bubbled from Ying Xia's lips.

  She didn't block. She didn't parry. She simply moved. Sliding under a sweeping kick, weaving around a jab, her body flowed like water around a storm of stones.

  It was as if she had faced this exact sequence of moves a thousand times before.

  "Is that all you've got?!" she yelled over the wind of his attacks.

  The Junior Elder bit his thumbnail, his eyes wide.

  "Impressive... that girl... just what in the hell is she? The fact that she's moving so precisely, with such minimal effort... it's not a technique, that's pure instinct."

  Just as the Elder spoke, Chen Afu's explosive movements began to falter. His breath grew ragged, his flurry slowing to a desperate series of clumsy swings.

  Ying Xia's eyes flashed. She had been waiting for this.

  In a single, fluid motion, she shot forward, driving a powerful kick straight into his gut.

  As he doubled over, gasping for air, she delivered a final, sharp chop to the back of his neck.

  Chen Afu crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

  Ying Xia stood over him, dusting off her hands. "And... I've won!"

  A sigh escaped from the recruit as he scratched his head with his pen.

  "Alas, that is the main weakness of the Dissipating Ember Arts. It grants incredible speed and power in a short burst, but once the user's stamina drains, they're as slow as a stunned turtle."

  His pen flashed across the notebook one last time. "Ying Xia has won the match with ease, demonstrating superior combat experience and stamina." He closed the book with a decisive snap.

  "Phew!" With a satisfied sigh, Ying Xia reached for the burlap sack. "Alright, a promise is a promise."

  The young disciple, his eyes still wide with a mix of awe and gratitude, handed over the bag without a second thought.

  She had fought for him. That was enough.

  Ying Xia strode into the Contribution Hall, the portly Chen Afu now being tended to by the record-keeping recruit.

  With a few taps of her new sect-issued jade token against the transfer array, a shower of light flowed from her token to the young disciple's.

  Thirty-six points, delivered as promised.

  "I... I thank you, Sister...?" the boy stammered, bowing deeply.

  A wide, proud grin split Ying Xia's face.

  She planted her hands on her hips, striking a pose that was equal parts heroic and arrogant. "It's Sister Xia!"

  The boy nodded, a look of genuine admiration on his face.

  With a final, jaunty wave, Ying Xia left the hall, the bag of herbs slung over her shoulder.

  "Hmm, now where was I..." Her hand gripped the sack tightly. A low growl from her stomach answered the question for her.

  "Oh, right! I need to buy ingredients for actual food! My stomach's about to declare war!"

  She rushed towards the sect's marketplace. The area seemed to have expanded since she'd last paid it a proper visit, with more stalls and a much larger crowd.

  Paper flyers were plastered on every available surface, and a stray one, caught by the wind, slapped directly onto her face.

  "Agh!" she grunted, ripping it off and instinctively crushing it in her fist.

  "What's with all these damn flyers..." Squinting, she read one posted on a nearby wall. It was printed on expensive-looking paper with elegant calligraphy.

  "Announcing the Engagement Banquet of Direct Disciple Yao Zhen and Inner Disciple Li Roulan."

  She snorted. "An engagement party? They're not even married yet and they're already celebrating? How weird." Shaking her head, she plunged into the bustling market, quickly gathering the vegetables and salted meat she needed.

  Her arms were soon full. She passed by a familiar stall, its shutters drawn. "Huh, looks like Ming Manyu's shop is closed today..."

  Juggling the groceries and the bag of herbs, she grumbled under her breath.

  "Damn it... I really need to get one of those storage rings everyone uses!"

  With her load secured, she made her way deeper into the sect grounds, leaving the chaotic Outer Sector behind.

  The transition was immediate and stark.

  The air itself felt different—thicker, purer, humming with a palpable energy. Here, disciples weren't lazing about or playing games.

  They moved with purpose, their expressions serious as they engaged in intense sparring matches, bartered over rare materials, or debated the intricacies of a new martial art.

  "Woah, it's really a completely different world from the Outer Sect," she gulped, a little intimidated despite herself going a few times already.

  She navigated towards the most pristine area: the Inner Disciples' Sacred Dormitories, where the true elites resided.

  An Inner Disciple with a neatly pressed uniform and an air of superiority noticed the simple crest on her robes and moved to intercept her.

  "Halt. What is your business here, Outer Disciple? Surely you know this isn't a place for your kind. Others here are not so polite. You're looking for trouble."

  Ying Xia cleared her throat, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "I'm here to meet a friend! Do you know her?"

  The Inner Disciple scratched his head, skeptical. "A friend? In the Inner Sect dorms?" As she pointed a finger towards the most secluded and opulent courtyard at the very heart of the area, the disciple's eyes nearly popped out of his skull.

  "W-WHAT?! You have a friend who lives there?!" He coughed, his entire demeanor changing in an instant. His disdain vanished, replaced by a fawning, eager smile.

  "P-Please, by all means, make your way! Allow me to escort you!" Jackpot! he thought, his mind racing.

  If I can get on this girl's good side, I might befriend one of the most talented disciples in the entire Inner Court!

  As they approached the gate to the courtyard, another figure blocked their path. He was handsome, with immaculate robes and an aura of cold authority.

  "Hm? What are you doing here?" the newcomer asked, his voice dripping with condescension as his gaze swept over the escorting disciple.

  "I don't like seeing bums wandering into this sacred place."

  Her escort immediately folded his hands together, bowing low. "M-My apologies, Senior Brother Ruo Yu! You see, this Outer Disci—"

  "Not her," Ruo Yu cut him off, his voice like ice. "You. Get out."

  The disciple's eyes widened in disbelief. "W-What? But I—"

  He didn't get another word out. Ruo Yu moved with casual, fluid grace, his palm striking the disciple's chest. It didn't look like a powerful blow, but the disciple was sent flying backward, tumbling end over end before crashing in a heap twenty paces away.

  Ruo Yu dusted off his hands as if he'd just shooed a fly. He turned to Ying Xia, his cold expression softening almost imperceptibly.

  "That should take care of him. Here to see her again, Xia?"

  Ying Xia nodded, unfazed. "Yep! But did you really have to send him flying?"

  He scoffed. "I don't allow low-level sycophants in here. I mean, look at this place."

  She had to admit, he had a point. The air inside the courtyard was so rich with Qi it was almost visible.

  The leaves on the trees were a vibrant, otherworldly green. A small, elegant waterfall cascaded over mossy rocks into a crystal-clear pond.

  Disciples with flawless skin and powerful auras meditated in the open, and rare, glowing herbs grew wild along the pathways.

  "Tell her I said 'hi'," Ruo Yu said, stepping aside to let her pass.

  Ying Xia rolled her eyes. "Will do, Ruo Yu."

  She made her way to one of the most secluded abodes.

  They were not the conventional wooden dormitories of the Outer Sect but were carved directly into the face of the high cliffs, their balconies offering a breathtaking view of the entire sect below. A cool, Qi-rich breeze washed over her as she approached.

  "Once I pass the Inner Disciple Trials, I'm definitely getting a place like this," she muttered to herself, a determined glint in her eyes.

  She pushed open the heavy, polished stone door. A wide smile bloomed on her face as she saw the familiar figure sitting in quiet meditation, a book resting in her lap.

  The figure's eyes fluttered open, the serene silence of the room broken by Xia’s energetic entrance.

  "You're here again, Sister Xia?" the girl's soft voice asked.

  Ying Xia nodded emphatically. "Of course I am! I don't know how to cook, Mei!"

  Ming Mei let out a long, fond sigh. "Jeez, you're older than me, yet you still can't even handle a simple cooking fire?"

  With a dramatic flair, Ying Xia dropped the groceries and the herb sack onto the floor and promptly fell to her knees, clasping her hands together in a begging gesture.

  "Please! I'll starve without you!"

  A blush crept up Ming Mei's cheeks, and she turned away, flustered.

  "S-Sister Xia! You don't have to kneel like that! Get up! I'll cook... I'll cook..."

  "Thank you, Mei!" Ying Xia grinned, shooting back to her feet in an instant.

  Ming Mei skillfully pulled out a clean pot and began preparing the ingredients Xia had bought.

  "You really like this Boar and Root stew, huh?"

  "Yeah!" Xia nodded, snooping around Ming Mei's meticulously organized room. "Ever since Bi Kan told me about the recipe, I've been hooked."

  A soft, private smile touched Ming Mei's lips at the mention of his name. "Oh, and how is Brother Bi Kan?"

  Ying Xia picked up one of Mei's small, silver-backed mirrors, checking her reflection for any stray dirt. "Oh, the usual. Working himself to the bone making those foul-smelling pills of his."

  Mei shook her head, her long lavender hair swaying with the movement.

  "He still insists on that path, huh? I remember just a few months ago... his pills helped me go from Stage 1 to Stage 3 in only a few days!"

  Ying Xia put the mirror down and pouted, playfully nudging Mei's shoulder. "No way, that was all you, Mei! You're a monster-level talent!"

  "Oh, stop..." Mei murmured, her blush returning. "I couldn't have done it without Brother Bi Kan's help."

  An hour passed in comfortable chatter.

  Finally, Ying Xia slurped down the last of the rich, savory stew, slamming the empty bowl back on the table with a loud, satisfied clack.

  "Ahh! That was amazing! Thanks, Mei!" She hurriedly grabbed her spear and the bag of herbs.

  "Whoa, where are you rushing off to?" Mei asked, already beginning to clean up.

  Ying Xia looked back, already bouncing on the balls of her feet with restless energy. "I've got a duel! With that idiot swordsman again!"

  Mei chuckled and tossed a small, silver object through the air. Ying Xia snatched it with practiced ease. It was a simple, unadorned ring. "What's this?"

  "A spatial storage ring," Mei explained. "You've always complained about needing one, right?"

  Ying Xia's eyes went wide with pure, unadulterated happiness. With a whoop of joy, she leaped forward and wrapped Mei in a crushing hug.

  "Oh, thank you, Mei! I'll treasure it forever!"

  She jumped back, slipping the ring onto her finger and focusing her Qi. The spear vanished. The heavy herb sack disappeared a moment later.

  "Woah! It still surprises me every time!" she yelled, waving enthusiastically as she bolted out the door. "See you later!"

  Ming Mei watched her go, a faint chuckle escaping her lips. "I swear, she's like a little ball of lightning." Her smile faded into a more thoughtful expression.

  "Now then... I should pay Mi Shui a visit. I need to see what's been troubling her these days."

  Ying Xia was a whirlwind. A pink streak of energy blasting down from the serene Inner Disciple cliffs back towards the boisterous Outer Sect grounds.

  Disciples leaped out of her way, startled by the sudden gust of wind that followed in her wake.

  "Woah! Watch where you're going!" someone shouted behind her.

  She didn't slow down.

  Reaching the edge of the training yard, she launched herself into the air, executing a perfect forward flip before landing gracefully in the center of the packed-earth arena, dust swirling around her feet.

  "And, I'm here!" she announced, her voice booming across the yard.

  "The legendary Ying Xia versus... the Foolish Swordsman!"

  With a dramatic flourish, she held out her hand. The golden Dragon-Fang Spear materialized from the ring with a flash of light.

  She leveled its gleaming tip at her waiting opponent.

  "Let's begin, shall we?!"