Beauty and Might: Heavenly Flames

Lu Zhi was not a man who jumped to conclusions.

He simply kept walking, fingers trailing across the scrolls, searching for the technique Li Yan requested.

Within moments, Elder Lu Zhi returned from the shelves with a scroll in hand. He set it on the polished wooden counter, the faint aura radiating from it hinting at its age and authenticity.

”This is the one you asked for,” he said, tapping the cover lightly.

Li Yan picked up the scroll and unrolled it slightly. His gaze swept over the lines with steady intent. A few passages caught his eye; afterward, he gave a small, certain nod.

”It’s the one,” he confirmed, voice calm. With a flick of his fingers, his disciple badge materialized in his palm, threads of Qi rippling from its engraved surface. ”Elder Lu, please deduct the cost.”

Lu Zhi produced his own dark-golden elder badge. The two emblems touched. A low hum resonated as their Qi circulated in tandem, sealing the transaction.

Li Yan stored the scroll and badge in his spatial ring and turned to leave—but Lu Zhi’s voice halted him.

”Li Yan, before you go… there’s something I’d like to ask.”

Li Yan paused and inclined his head. ”Of course, Elder.”

Lu Zhi folded his arms atop the counter, studying him with a thoughtful gaze. ”Why choose Steel Body Tempering? With your Darkness affinity, the Abyssal Veins Refinement technique would suit you far better. It harmonizes with shadow Qi and offers faster physical enhancement.”

He exhaled, expression tightening with memory. ”In my fifteen years overseeing this Techniques Hall, only one disciple chose Steel Body Tempering. Even he returned within a month, asking to exchange it.”

”The method is painful, slow, and demands absolute discipline. Most can’t endure beyond its outer layer.”

Li Yan’s expression didn’t shift. ”I’ve already read both techniques,” he replied. His tone was steady, stripped of pretension. ”You’re right—Steel Body Tempering is harder. That’s why I chose it.”

He stepped closer, meeting the elder’s gaze directly. ”The stronger the foundation, the greater the future. Everyone avoids this technique because it’s difficult. But if no one has ever completed it… doesn’t that mean its true value remains untouched?”

A brief silence stretched between them.

”I don’t need a technique that suits me now,” Li Yan continued. ”I need one that will still serve me when I reach the peak.”

The conviction in his voice was quiet, but absolute.

Lu Zhi blinked, momentarily stunned—not by arrogance, but by the unwavering intent behind the boy’s words. Slowly, he nodded.

”You truly are different,” he murmured. ”You see what others overlook.”

A rare smile softened his features. ”I look forward to the day this dusty scroll reveals its worth in your hands.”

Li Yan returned a respectful nod. ”Thank you for the guidance, Elder Lu.”

Then he stepped from the Technique Hall, leaving the quiet tremor in the elder’s thoughts behind him.

His task complete, he didn’t slow. His next destination awaited.

Soon, he arrived at the top floor of the sect’s core mountain—the Sect Leader’s Chamber. The twin doors towered before him, carved with dragons and phoenixes twined through clouds, symbols of balance and dominion.

Li Yan knocked twice.

A composed voice answered from within. ”Enter.”

The faint scent of tea and incense lingered in the air as Li Yan stepped into the Sect Leader’s chamber.

Carved from dark wood and stone, the room felt like a sanctuary—quiet, orderly, subtly humming with Qi. Sunlight streamed through the high windows, scattering soft patterns across the floor.

Ji Hong sat at a low table, robed in crimson, a porcelain teacup resting in his hand. His aura was calm, yet keen—like a sword hidden beneath silk.

Li Yan bowed. ”Elder Ji. I’ve come regarding what you mentioned in the valley.”

Ji Hong offered a faint smile and set down his cup. ”Straight to the point. Good.”

He gestured toward the cushion opposite him. ”Sit. Let us begin.”

Li Yan settled down without hurry.

A moment of silence passed before Ji Hong spoke again, eyes sharpening. ”I observed you in the valley. Your control over the darkness element is exceptional—Superior-Level affinity, excellent abilities. But what surprised me most… was your Fire element.”

Li Yan’s expression remained steady. ”I didn’t hide it to deceive the sect. I simply preferred avoiding unnecessary attention.”

Ji Hong chuckled lightly. ”Caution is wisdom. I’m not reprimanding you. In truth, I believe fate arranged that moment—your display of Fire affinity.”

Ji Hong rose and walked to a carved cabinet at the back wall. With a subtle sweep of Qi, the locks disengaged.

From within, he withdrew a scroll wrapped in crimson silk and a small jade token. The cabinet sealed itself again behind him as he returned to the table.

Ji Hong set the scroll down first.

The moment the silk shifted, faint ripples of heat flickered across the table.

”This is an incomplete technique I found years ago in a place few would dare enter—a magma realm hidden within a volcanic rift not far from this valley. There, the skies burn, the rivers flow with lava, and the Qi roars like a beast.”

Li Yan leaned forward, interest stirring.

”As you know, no one in our sect possesses a Fire affinity. Neither I nor the elders—our strength lies in Darkness. That realm rejected us. We couldn’t advance more than a few miles before the flames and heat forced us back.”

His eyes narrowed, recalling the heat. ”But before retreating, I acquired this.”

He slid the scroll toward Li Yan. ”It is called the Crimson Tyrant Scripture – First Flame Baptism. Its Tier is unknown—no one can judge its true level.”

”But cultivating it requires an immense amount of Fire Qi, enough to melt a weak cultivator’s dantians from within. Still… it may prove useful to you in time.”

Li Yan placed his fingers atop the silk. Even without opening it, he felt the Fire Qi within.

Ji Hong continued, voice low. ”I believe that the magma realm is an inheritance ground for a fire-element powerhouse. Its core remains untouched.”

”When you are ready to explore it, inform me—I will personally escort you. But only after your strength rises. That place’s pressure alone will crush you if you enter now.”

Then he lifted the jade token—a deep crimson piece carved with flame motifs coiled around a dragon’s eye—and handed it to Li Yan.

”This token grants access to the Ember Vein Cavern,” Ji Hong said. ”A sealed mine within our hidden valley. Long ago, it provided Fire Qi Stones for trade and stabilized the sect’s economy.”

Li Yan turned the token over, examining the ancient engravings. ”It still contains Fire Qi Stones?”

”Yes,” Ji Hong replied. ”The sect grew stable in other ways, so the mine was abandoned. But for you, it will be an ideal cultivation ground—hidden, quiet, rich in Fire Qi. According to what I know, with dual elemental affinities, you will require far more cultivation resources than I and any other with one element affinity to increase cultivation.”

He paused, tone deepening.

”So, use this mine as your cultivation ground. I visited it yesterday to ensure there were no dangers and found many beasts. I cleared the strong ones.”

His gaze sharpened. ”But listen well. Deeper inside the mine is a sealed stone gate. Behind it, still fire-type beasts—Tier-1 to Tier-3… perhaps even Tier-4. Do not open that gate until you reach at least the Qi Channeling Realm.”

A brief, weighted pause. ”Do you understand?”

Li Yan’s eyes cooled, sharp with clarity. ”Understood, Elder Ji. I won’t take unnecessary risks.”

Ji Hong leaned back, clearly satisfied. ”Good. You’ve shown both talent and restraint—rare qualities together. Take these, cultivate in silence, and when the time is right… the sect will witness your flames rise.”

Li Yan bowed deeply. ”Many thanks, Elder Ji. I won’t waste this chance.”

As he rose with the scroll and token in hand, Ji Hong offered one final nod. ”One day, your path will blaze with fire and shadow. Be prepared to walk both.”

Li Yan turned toward the chamber doors—then paused, glancing back.

”Elder Ji,” he asked, holding the crimson token between his fingers, ”how do I reach the Fire Mine?”

Ji Hong nodded, unsurprised. ”Use the teleportation portals near the sect’s exit. You’ve passed them a few times.”

Li Yan recalled the row of portals—each set above bronze plates etched with destination names. ”I’ve only used the one tagged ‘Tier 1 Hunting Ground’ so far.”

”This time,” Ji Hong said, voice edged with meaning, ”you’ll use the portal marked ‘Fire Mine.’ The token will unlock the barrier. Insert it into the formation when prompted—it will recognize your authority.”

Li Yan inclined his head. ”Understood.”

”One more thing,” Ji Hong added. ”Be cautious upon arrival. The Fire Qi distorts perception. Focus your senses and don’t linger in the deeper layers until you’ve adapted.”

Li Yan bowed once more, returning the five ancient books he had borrowed days prior. He turned to leave—only to stop again, hesitation flickering briefly.

”Elder Ji… there’s something else I need to report.”

Ji Hong’s expression remained composed, though one eyebrow rose. ”Oh? Speak.”

Li Yan recounted the ambush in the Hunting Ground—the three disciples, the attempted robbery, the fight, and how he had defeated one whose cultivation was a stage above his.

Ji Hong’s eyes narrowed slightly. His voice, however, remained calm. ”Three disciples… and one stronger than you. And you still won.”

Even for someone of his experience, that was no small feat. He had expected Li Yan to be exceptional, but this… exceeded expectations.

After a brief silence, he asked, ”Were you injured?”

Li Yan shook his head calmly. ”No, Elder Ji. I’m unharmed. The three disciples were injured, but nothing severe.”

Ji Hong’s gaze deepened in thought. ”Understood. You may leave. I’ll handle the matter.”

Li Yan bowed once again. He said nothing about the emergency teams likely already sweeping the Hunting Ground.

The door closed softly behind him.

In the very next instant, Ji Hong vanished.

Ji Hong teleported several times before appearing without sound high above the Tier-1 Hunting Ground. Red robes billowing in the wind, he hovered in the sky, eyes sharp as he activated his vision technique.

”If what Li Yan said is true… those disciples could be in danger. That area teems with beast packs. They may not have even called for aid.”

He scanned the landscape rapidly.

Minutes passed—then his gaze caught movement.

Four black-robed disciples were helping the injured trio along the winding path toward the teleportation portal. Their robes were torn, their injuries exactly as Li Yan had described—painful, but not life-threatening.

Ji Hong observed them silently.

”So, he didn’t lie. In fact… he may have held back.”

The emergency team had already reached the outer region and was escorting them to safety. There was no further danger.

Without revealing his presence, Ji Hong turned away. His figure flickered once, then vanished from the skies—leaving behind only a faint ripple of energy.

____

Meanwhile, Li Yan, who had already left the Sect Leader’s chamber with steady steps, was heading toward his next destination. The Alchemy Hall awaited.

The wooden floors creaked softly beneath his boots as he entered the main corridor. The familiar scent of crushed herbs and lingering pill smoke drifted through the air—warm, precise, and laced with the quiet authority that defined this place.

He moved without hesitation, passing rows of closed doors until he reached the last one on the right. After a brief pause, he lifted his hand and knocked twice.

Tap. Tap.

The door swung open with a light push.

Inside, the room was modest but refined. A wooden counter stretched across the far side, shelves lining the walls with neatly arranged jade bottles.

Behind the counter, Bai Ru sat in her black sect robe, fingers lightly curled around a porcelain teacup. At her side, dressed in flowing green with a faintly regal aura, sit Elder Cao Lian—the Alchemy Hall overseer, and Ji Hong’s wife.

Both women turned. Their expressions shifted into composed calm, but Li Yan didn’t miss the faint tension that had flickered between them a heartbeat earlier. His Spiritual Sense had already tasted the residue of emotion before he’d opened the door.