The first light of dawn stretched across Five Elements Mountain, painting the mist in pale gold. The air was crisp, scented with pine, dew, and the faint tang of stone.

  Below the peaks, the clearing was alive with motion. Wood was hauled, stones stacked, and earth churned by diligent hands—four companions and one quiet observer moving like a shadow among them. Lin Fan glanced around.

  Rocks. Trees. More rocks.

  “Brother… are we really starting a sect here?” Feng muttered.

  Li Wei rubbed his chin. “To be fair… it does look like a sect mountain.”

  Ru Yan raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly makes a mountain ‘sect-like’?”

  Li Wei gestured vaguely. “You know… mist, dangerous cliffs… dramatic enough to look important.”

  Feng sighed. “We have no buildings.”

  Ru Yan added, “No training grounds.”

  Li Wei continued, “No disciples.”

  Lin Fan finished, “No money.”

  All eyes turned to Zhi Yuan. He stood quietly before the empty mountain gate, hands clasped behind his back. Silence stretched between them.

  Finally, Ru Yan clapped once. “Step one,” she declared, pointing at the space between two massive trees. “We build the sect gate here.”

  Li Wei nodded. “Good choice.”

  Feng added, “We’ll need a cultivation ground, a scripture hall, and a trial area for new disciples.”

  Lin Fan blinked. “New disciples?”

  Ru Yan fixed him with a look like a teacher explaining basic math. “Yes. They must undergo a spirit-root test.” She picked up a rock. “Place your hand on the stone. It reveals your cultivation potential.”

  “That… sounds professional,” Lin Fan said, wide-eyed.

  Li Wei muttered to Feng, “She’s definitely done this before.”

  “Suspiciously experienced,” Feng replied.

  Zhi Yuan raised his hands, fingertips tracing invisible patterns. Faint trails of qi shimmered, leaving lines of green and red in the morning haze. Curved and coiled, the trails formed the outline of the future sect—training grounds, apartments, courtyards, even a central plaza.

  Li Wei squinted. “Are those… buildings?”

  “They will be,” Zhi Yuan said calmly, gaze distant as he shaped the qi. “Stacked apartments for disciples, open courtyards for practice, main halls over here.” He gestured toward a flat plateau. “Training zones with elemental markers, spirit-testing stones… a place for scripture storage, pill refinement… all of it.”

  Lin Fan’s eyes widened. “Stacked apartments? Really?”

  “Yes,” Zhi Yuan replied. “Practical. Efficient. Space is limited on the mountain.”

  Feng frowned. “Efficient… sure. But won’t they topple?”

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  Lin Fan bounced in excitement. “I can’t wait to see someone tumble off the top floor!”

  Ru Yan muttered under her breath, arms folded. “Discipline, training… and yet somehow, this counts as ‘efficiency.’”

  The first task was the kitchen—or rather, Lin Fan’s attempt at one. He had decided to roast a root harvested from the mountain slopes. The pot hissed violently, smoke curling into the air.

  “Lin Fan! Careful!” Li Wei shouted, leaping sideways to avoid a flare.

  The root ignited, flames licking the edge of a small apprentice dormitory. Li Wei rushed forward, fire qi swirling around his hands. “Control the flow!” he muttered, while Ru Yan facepalmed. “Why do I even try?”

  Lin Fan yelped. “It’s fine! I’ve got this!”

  The flames roared higher, singeing a corner of the structure. Feng ducked, narrowly avoiding a flying vegetable. “Not again!”

  By the time the fire was contained, Lin Fan was covered in soot, Li Wei muttering about fire discipline, and Ru Yan glared like a storm cloud.

  “Do we even have a proper roof yet?” Lin Fan asked, dodging sparks from a failing chimney.

  “Barely,” Li Wei muttered.

  “Barely is sufficient!” Feng shouted from a distance, juggling stones with metallic qi. One slipped, crashing harmlessly near Lin Fan.

  Ru Yan pinched the bridge of her nose. “This is why cultivators are not trusted with building projects.”

  Meanwhile, Feng attempted to “improve efficiency” elsewhere. Using metallic qi, he lifted stones to erect a wall faster. It worked—until a flick of his wrist sent part of the wall collapsing in a heap.

  “Feng! Do you even understand structural integrity?” Li Wei shouted.

  “I was optimizing! Efficiency first!” Feng retorted, brushing off dust.

  Ru Yan sighed. “Efficiency does not include demolishing everything.” She glanced at the morning mist. “One misstep, and I’ll call Xuanwu to flood this lot myself.”

  Zhi Yuan simply observed, arms folded, a small smile tugging at his lips as chaos unfolded.

  The morning passed in a blur of construction. Apprentices’ apartments took shape—stacked floors, open courtyards, interconnected walkways. Li Wei carefully melted and reshaped metal for doors and fixtures, sweat glinting on his brow. “If the roof collapses, I swear…” he muttered.

  Feng treated construction like a competitive game, leaping between boulders and swinging hammers with flair, often missing nails and hitting his own foot. “I swear this board moved on its own!” he yelled, causing Lin Fan to snicker.

  Lin Fan dashed around, collecting herbs and fruits near the base, tossing them to Ru Yan. “If you hit me with one more mushroom, brat, I’ll feed you to Xuanwu,” she muttered.

  Sometimes, Lin Fan’s kitchen magic succeeded. Other times, small explosions sent Ru Yan scowling.

  Li Wei carefully guided a small fire element to heat a cauldron. Sparks flew. “Don’t touch the wooden floor!” he warned. Lin Fan’s elbow bumped a pot, sending it flying. “Sorry!”

  “Boys,” Ru Yan muttered, “this is why modern training doesn’t include you two in management roles.”

  Zhi Yuan moved silently among the chaos, hands tracing faint glowing lines in the air, adjusting layouts, visualizing the entire sect as if playing a three-dimensional game board.

  By mid-afternoon, most structures were taking shape. Courtyards gleamed, training zones were marked, and the spirit-testing stone stood at the center of the plateau, smooth and radiant. The apartments were functional.

  Lin Fan, exhausted from his culinary experiments, leaned against a railing. “I almost burned down the building twice today.”

  “Twice? Lucky it was only smoke,” Feng laughed.

  Li Wei muttered about fire qi discipline.

  Ru Yan, arms crossed, surveyed the layout. “Chaotic… but workable. Discipline will come later.”

  Zhi Yuan nodded silently, satisfied with the progress.

  Evening descended, painting the mountains in gold and orange. Pine, stone, and faint smoke from Lin Fan’s disasters mingled in the air.

  The five stood together in the clearing, surveying their creation. Zhi Yuan held the small red wineapple fruit, tossing it gently from palm to palm, weighing the possibilities of their fledgling sect.

  “Time to give our sect its name,” he said.

  The others leaned forward eagerly. “Finally! The coolest name ever!” Lin Fan exclaimed.

  “Please don’t let it be ridiculous,” Feng muttered.

  “Or too long to chant in battle,” Ru Yan added.

  “We need a name,” Feng said seriously.

  “Something powerful,” Li Wei added.

  “Something dignified,” Ru Yan said.

  Zhi Yuan thought for a moment…

  Then he opened his mouth.

  “How about—”

  At that exact moment, Lin Fan’s cooking pot exploded behind them.

  BOOM.

  Everyone turned.

  Zhi Yuan sighed.

  “Sorry!” Lin Fan shouted.

  “That’s it! Clean the dorms tomorrow!” Feng shrieked, jumping back.

  Li Wei chuckled. Ru Yan rolled her eyes.

  Laughter rippled across the plateau.

  Chaos, smoke, and half-finished buildings… yet somehow, it felt like the beginning of something real.

  Above them, the constellations of the Four Beasts shimmered faintly in the evening sky, silent witnesses to the birth of a new sect.

  five people, a mountain, and a lot of questionable planning.

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