Chương 7: Bowing to the Past, Budgeting for the Future

First things first. The rings. There are two. I remove them carefully, sliding them from the crystalline finger bones one by one. The skeleton doesn't resist—it's been dead for centuries, and the Spirit Lock is gone. Still, I'm careful not to disturb the bones more than necessary. Respect, and also self-preservation. No need to tempt fate. I hold each ring up to the lantern light and activate the Gaze.

Ring of Frozen Depths - High-grade Spirit Artifact Effect: Enhances water-ice techniques, stores up to 1000 gallons of liquid, can release as controlled ice attacks Requirement: Foundation Establishment or higher, water affinity Status: Fully functional, needs 1 month of qi attunement Storage Ring - Medium-grade Spirit Artifact Effect: Contains approximately 50 cubic feet of space Contents: (Spirit Stones: 2, 847 low-grade, 432 middle-grade, 17 high-grade) (Pills: Various, need assessment) (Materials: Various, need assessment) (Personal effects: Clothing, journals, mementos) Status: Functional, seal broken by death I stare at the numbers.

Two thousand eight hundred forty-seven low-grade stones. Four hundred thirty-two middle-grade. Seventeen high-grade. In my head, I'm already calculating. That's enough to pay off all debts ten times over. Enough to repair every building. Enough to buy techniques, pills, weapons. Enough to hire more labourers and recruit better disciples. Enough to build a foundation that can actually support Ling'er and the sect's growth.

But another part of me, this body's part, the part that's spent forty years as a poor sect leader in a poor sect… it's screaming internally. My hands are trembling. I've never seen such wealth. Never imagined such wealth. This is the equivalent of finding a million yuan in a briefcase in an alleyway next to a corpse. I breathe. I put the rings in my pocket. Second: the jade pouch. It's attached to the rotted belt at the skeleton's waist, a small pouch of green jade that looks completely untouched by time.

I unhook it carefully, feeling the weight. Heavier than it should be. Storage treasure, specialized. I open it and peer inside with spiritual sense, then use the Gaze.

Spirit Rice (Preserved) - 500 pounds Grade: Medium Effect: Nourishes cultivators, slightly accelerates qi recovery Status: Perfectly preserved, still edible after 900 years Spirit Wine (Aged) - 12 jugs Grade: High Effect: Unknown (fermented with rare ingredients, possibly dangerous or transcendent) Status: Seal intact, wine has aged 900 years beyond intended Dried Spirit Fruits - Assorted, approximately 200 pieces Grade: Low to Medium Effect: Various Status: Dried, still potent Enough food to feed my sect for years.

Enough to strengthen Ling'er's mortal body with proper spiritual nourishment. No more thin cheeks and bare feet. No more surviving on kitchen scraps. I secure the pouch and move on. Third: the sword. This is the moment I've been building toward. The weapon that's been singing to my spiritual sense since I entered the chamber. I lift it from the stone where it's rested for nine centuries. It's heavier than it looks, perfectly balanced, singing with power even in my mediocre hands.

The blade is dark but unrusted, its edge still sharp enough to draw blood with a whisper. I can feel the weight of its history, its pain, its loss. Frostbite - Grade: High (Damaged) Type: Nascent Soul-grade Sword Effect: Freezes anything it cuts. Can release ice techniques. Former owner's soul bond is broken, available for new master. Requirement: Core Formation or higher for full power. Foundation Establishment can wield at 10% capacity. Status: Blade intact. Spirit damaged at 60% of original.

Needs spiritual restoration. Verdict: Damaged during death tribulation. A Nascent Soul-grade weapon at half power is still worth more than most Core Formation disciples. Repair it when you can. A sword I can barely use. Ten percent of its power is still more than anything I've ever held, but it's a shadow of what it could be. And to repair it, I'll need resources I don't have, techniques I don't know, craftsmen I can't afford.

But someday, if I reach Core Formation, if I find someone who can restore damaged spirit artifacts… someday it will be mine. For now, it stays here. Hidden. Safe. Waiting for me to become worthy. Fourth: the jade box in the alcove. If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. I retrieve it on my way back across the dragon-tail path, following the safe pattern carefully. The box is cool in my hands, heavy with promise.

I open it inside the chamber, where the light is better. Three manuals, each inscribed on spirit jade slips; the kind that never degrade, that preserve knowledge for millennia. Azure Frost Breathing Method - Grade: High Type: Cultivation Technique Effect: Complete water-ice affinity technique. Guides cultivator from Foundation Establishment to Nascent Soul. Moderate difficulty. Requirements: Pure water or ice spirit root (adaptable for mixed roots) Verdict: Foundation to Nascent Soul.

Frozen Palm Techniques - Grade: Medium Type: Combat Manual Effect: 18 combat forms. Creates ice constructs, freezes opponents, provides both defensive and offensive applications. Requirements: Qi Condensation to Nascent Soul. Water or ice affinity recommended. Verdict: Solid combat application. Nothing groundbreaking, but reliable. Formation Foundations of the Azure Frost Sect - Grade: Medium Type: Formation Manual Effect: Basic to intermediate formations. Includes detection, defense, and sealing arrays.

Requirements: Foundation Establishment recommended for advanced arrays. Verdict: Contains the exact formation used to hide this tomb. Study carefully. Complete techniques. From Foundation to Nascent Soul. A full cultivation path. For someone with the right affinity. My mind immediately goes to Ling'er. Her True Dragon Bloodline—does that grant elemental affinities? Perhaps to Azure Dragons? I don't know. But the Sacred Cosmic Bone connects to fundamental laws. Ice is a fundamental law. It could work. It might work.

I tuck the manuals into the storage ring. I almost miss it. I'm gathering the last of the offerings from the platform, a few loose spirit stones that had fallen from the storage ring over centuries, a small jade bottle of pills I haven't assessed yet—when my foot brushes against the stone. Just a touch, barely a scrape. The Gaze activates on something beneath.

Hidden Compartment - Sealed Contents: Nascent Soul's Core Remnant Warning: Contains concentrated spiritual essence of deceased, extremely potent, extremely dangerous Use: Can be absorbed by cultivator of compatible affinity for massive breakthrough, or used as power source for arrays/artifacts, or refined into Heaven-defying pills Risk: 70% chance of qi deviation if absorbed improperly, 40% chance of death I freeze. Then, slowly, carefully, I kneel and examine the platform.

There, a seam in the stone, almost invisible, perfectly aligned with the skeleton's spine. A hidden compartment, directly beneath where the cultivator's dantian would have rested in life. I press. The stone slides open. Inside, floating in a crystal vial, is a sphere of frozen light. It pulses slowly, like a heartbeat. Like it's still alive. The Nascent Soul's crystallized core, preserved after death. The source of all their power, condensed into something the size of a marble.

It glows with soft blue-white light, cold radiating from it in waves that frost the inside of the vial. If Ling'er absorbs this, when she's ready, it could accelerate her growth by decades. Centuries. It could give her a foundation no one in history has ever had. I seal the vial and place it in the storage ring. I stand in the center of the tomb, surrounded by nine centuries of legacy. A sect's worth of wealth. A Nascent Soul's life work.

A sword, techniques, food, stones, and the crystallized heart of a dead immortal. And one thought echoes in my mind: This changes everything. But it also changes nothing. I'm still a mediocre Foundation Establishment cultivator. Ling'er is still a mortal child with heaven-defying potential. The sect is still weak, poor, and vulnerable. Now I just have the resources to do something about it. I bow one last time to the skeleton.

"Thank you, Senior. I'll make it count." Then I turn, walk the dragon-tail path back to the entrance, and step through the shimmering wall. Behind me, the formation reactivates, sealing the tomb once more. Stone flows back into place, hiding the passage as if it never existed. But I know the way now. I can return anytime. The mountain is dark. The sect sleeps. I walk back to my quarters with a Nascent Soul's wealth in my pocket and a sect's future in my hands. The walk back to my quarters is the longest of my life.

Every shadow seems to watch, every creak of wood sounds like an accusation. I'm carrying enough wealth to make every cultivator in the prefecture want to murder me in my sleep, and all I have between me and them is a cracked bronze mirror and twelve mediocre disciples. But I make it. I close my door, lean against it, and breathe. Then I get to work. Dawn breaks. I find the head cook, Old Chen, before morning practice.

"Chen. Ten pounds of this." I hand him a sack of spirit rice, gleaming faintly even in the dim light.

"Cook it for tonight. Everyone eats—disciples, servants, everyone. We're having a feast." His eyes go wide.

"Sect Leader, this is... this is spirit rice! The kind they eat in the big sects! A single pound costs more than—""I know what it costs. Cook it. Tell no one where it came from. If anyone asks, I've been saving for years." He nods, still staring at the rice like it might bite him. I leave him to it. Morning practice passes in a blur. The disciples train hard, as always. I correct forms, offer encouragement, keep my face calm. But inside, I'm cataloging. Planning. Who gets what. When. How to explain it.

How to hide the rest. Feng leads the younger ones through their drills. I watch him for a long moment, thinking about the Gaze's verdict: Will never reach Foundation Establishment without external assistance. I have external assistance now. Pills, techniques, resources. Maybe enough to push him over the edge. Mei Lin practices her water manipulation. Competent, nothing more. But competence is valuable. Competence builds foundations. And Ling'er.

Watching from the kitchen doorway again, hidden in shadow, observing everything with those sharp brown eyes. I catch her gaze for just a moment, then look away. Soon. The feast that evening is everything I hoped. Old Chen outdoes himself; steaming bowls of spirit rice piled high, vegetable dishes enhanced with the rice's leftover spiritual energy, even a thin broth made from soaking the rice before cooking. The servants eat like they've never tasted food before, because they haven't—not like this.

Their bodies, starved for spiritual nourishment their whole lives, practically glow with the sudden influx. The disciples close their eyes with each bite, feeling the qi settle into their meridians. Even Feng, usually so grim, cracks a small smile as he eats. I move among them, smiling, accepting thanks, playing the benevolent sect leader who's been saving up for this moment. The questions come—"Where did this come from, Sect Leader?"

—and I wave them away with vague answers about wise investments and careful planning. And when I pass Ling'er, sitting slightly apart from the others, still uncertain of her place, still half-hidden behind Old Chen, I set down an extra bowl beside her.

"Eat well," I murmur, so quietly only she can hear.

"Then come to my quarters." Her eyes go wide. For just a moment, her composure slips, and she's just a twelve-year-old girl with a secret and a hope. Then she nods, hiding her smile behind her bowl. I move on, continuing my circuit of the feast, but inside I'm already planning tonight's lesson. Spirit rice in her belly. Qi circulating through her meridians. And maybe the first real step toward awakening her potential.

The feast continues around me, laughter and chatter filling the main hall for the first time in years. My sect is happy. My sect is fed. And in my quarters, a Nascent Soul's legacy waits to be spent on a girl who will reshape the world.