In the hidden chamber beneath the Li courtyard, the dim glow of the wooden monument cast faint shadows against the stone walls. The air was thick with the weight of an unspoken fate.

  Li Yuntai and Li Xun knelt before their father, their foreheads nearly touching the ground. With solemn voices, they spoke in unison:

  "Father, we humbly seek your permission to step onto the path of immortality."

  Li Heng stood before them, his gaze heavy with contemplation. He looked at his two sons—once mere children under his care, now standing at the threshold of something far greater. He let out a long, measured breath, the weight of his thoughts sinking into his heart.

  “You two are no longer children that I must dictate how to live your lives,” he finally said. His voice was calm yet resolute. “But know this—cultivating immortality is not a simple matter. It is a path filled with both great fortune and great peril. However… fate has chosen you both.”

  He took a step forward and placed his hands on their shoulders. “Rise.”

  Yuntai and Xun stood, looking at their father with unwavering determination.

  Li Heng’s expression softened. “I know the allure of immortality—it is tempting to anyone. But I ask only one thing: be cautious in every step you take. There will be dangers beyond what you can imagine.”

  The two brothers bowed once more. "We will take Father's teachings to heart."

  Li Heng turned toward the monument, his gaze firm. “Since this object is what granted you this opportunity, then it must be protected. No one in the family should know of it.”

  The brothers exchanged a knowing glance, understanding the gravity of his words.

  “This secret must remain between the three of us,” Li Heng continued. “And should there come a time when we must reveal it to future family members, they must swear an oath of secrecy. This is both a blessing and a potential disaster to our family.”

  Yuntai and Xun nodded solemnly, the weight of responsibility pressing onto their young shoulders.

  “We understand, Father. We will protect this secret at all costs.”

  Li Heng studied their faces before adding in a low voice, “We know nothing of the immortal who once owned this… nor what happened to them. Until we do, you must not let anyone know you are cultivating. The world is full of eyes—some might seek to take what you now possess.”

  The brothers clenched their fists, determination burning in their eyes.

  “We will remember, Father.”

  Silence settled over the chamber, only the faint flicker of the lanterns filling the space.

  The harsh winter still clung to the land, though the first signs of spring whispered in the air. The snow had begun to recede, revealing patches of hardened earth, but the lingering cold continued to slow movement.

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  At the vast training grounds, soldiers drilled relentlessly under the pale morning sun. Some swung their wooden spears in disciplined formations, their breaths visible in the icy air, while others practiced archery, the twang of bows blending with the muffled crunch of boots against the frosty ground. The scent of sweat and cold steel filled the air.

  Inside a large military tent, three figures sat around a simple wooden table, their faces solemn. Zhao Liang, Qin Hao, and Wei Zhong—the same two men who had previously met with Magistrate Zhao Feng—studied a rough map spread across the table, tracing the routes with sharp eyes.

  Zhao Liang, ever composed, set his cup of tea down and spoke first.

  “We move in three days.”

  Wei Zhong, the older of the two, furrowed his brows. “I understand the urgency, but two more days won’t be enough to properly train the newly recruited soldiers.” His voice was steady, yet filled with concern.

  Zhao Liang nodded, his expression unchanged. “I know. But if we delay any longer, my brother’sarmy will run out of rations.”

  The younger man, Qin Hao, leaned forward, rubbing his chin. “Can’t we request aid from the Bao family? They have resources. We can return the supplies once we secure our position.”

  Wei Zhong shook his head. “It’s not that simple.” He tapped the table with his finger, emphasizing his words. “The Bao army has already dispatched reinforcements to the Northern Fortress, but the snow slowed their march. Even when they arrive, they’ll barely have enough to sustain themselves and the fortress garrison. They can’t afford to spare supplies.”

  Zhao Liang exhaled, his eyes sharp. “And their army isn’t large. They’re stretched thin, dealing with bandits and other threats.”

  Silence settled in the tent, the weight of their predicament pressing down on them.

  Outside, the muffled sound of clashing weapons and shouting orders continued. The cold wind rustled the tent, as if echoing the urgency in their hearts.

  After a moment, Wei Zhong spoke again. “Then we have no choice. We adjust our tactics.”

  Zhao Liang nodded. “We will have to make do with what we have. The recruits will march with us, but their training will continue along the way. There is no time to delay.”

  Qin Hao let out a slow breath. “Then it’s settled.”

  Six days had passed since my brother and I received the Tao Seed. Yuntai’s thoughts echoed in his mind as he stood in formation.

  "We have been cultivating since that night, yet we’ve made no further progress apart from the initial boost when we received the Tao Seed. Thanks to that, we have already reached the first layer of the first realm—our strength, stamina, and speed have improved. Not by much, but more than any ordinary adult. However, our food intake has increased drastically. Three bowls per meal... it’s unsustainable."

  He exhaled slowly.

  "That’s why I joined the recruitment."

  Had he stayed home, their family's food stores would have dwindled at an alarming rate. His father and brother strongly opposed his decision, fearing that prolonged exposure to rigorous training might expose his secret. But Yuntai reassured them. “I will be cautious.” Though reluctant, they had no reasonable argument to refuse him.

  Thanks to his exceptional strength and disciplined demeanor, Yuntai was assigned as a captain of a small squad—a rare opportunity for a fresh recruit. In the army, a captain (百夫长, Bǎifūzhǎng) commanded a unit of one hundred soldiers, leading them in both training and battle. It was a fortunate position, giving him a better start than most.

  Today was an important day.

  All soldiers had been ordered to assemble at the training grounds. The reason? The leader who would be in charge of them during the campaign was to make his first address.

  The training ground was a vast open space, flattened and reinforced by the trampling of countless boots. Soldiers stood in formation, their breath visible in the lingering morning chill. The clanking of armor and hushed murmurs filled the air as they waited.

  Then, movement.

  A young man, exuding a calm yet commanding presence, stepped onto the raised platform at the front. His black battle robes, embroidered with a subtle silver trim, fluttered slightly in the cold breeze. His gaze was sharp, carrying the confidence of one accustomed to command. This was Zhao Liang.

  Two men followed behind him—Wei Zhong and Qin Hao, both standing respectfully at his side.

  Zhao Liang took a step forward, his hands clasped behind his back. Silence fell over the assembled soldiers.

  His voice, steady and authoritative, cut through the cold air.

  “I am Zhao Liang. From this day forth, I will be leading you into battle.”

  His gaze swept across the soldiers, assessing them. Some stood with eager anticipation, others with uncertainty.

  “Many of you are newly recruited. You have yet to face the true horrors of war. But know this—war does not wait for you to be ready. When the time comes, you will fight. And when you fight, you will either rise—or you will fall.”

  A few of the recruits gripped their weapons tighter, their knuckles turning pale.

  Zhao Liang continued, his tone unwavering.

  “Discipline is what separates soldiers from corpses. Strength alone does not win battles—obedience, tactics, and unity do. If you fail to follow orders, you will not only endanger yourself, but also the brothers beside you. In war, hesitation means death.”

  He let his words settle before continuing.

  “In three days, we march. Until then, your training will be doubled. Those who cannot endure should leave now, for the battlefield has no place for cowards.”

  A heavy silence followed. No one stepped forward.

  A small smirk ghosted across Zhao Liang’s lips.

  “Good.”

  With that, he turned and stepped down from the platform, leaving the recruits to process his words. The weight of war had settled upon them.