By the time Li Wei returned to the sect, dawn was just breaking.

  The outer sect bell tolled in the distance, calling disciples to their morning drills.

  He walked through the servant quarter’s path with a lowered head, his grey robes tattered from his journey.

  Other servants paid him no mind as he strolled past. Qi flowed through his body again, stronger than it ever had, but it kept itself sealed. He made sure his breathing appeared shallow and weak as before. Outwardly, he was still the same crippled servant who fetched water and swept courtyards.

  Zhao Feng still thrived in the sect, his influence growing with each passing year. If Li Wei suddenly appeared healed, questions would arise, questions that could put him in danger before he was strong enough to defend himself. Better to train quietly and let the world believe he was still broken.

  He spent the day as usual, running errands and scrubbing floors.

  As the morning drills shook off sleep, some disciples began to jeer at him; “Hey, Li Wei! Don’t scrub so slow. Even as a servant, you’re useless.”

  "Don't say that," someone chided sarcastically. "He was once a genius of our outer-sect. Have you forgotten?"

  The first speaker burst into laughter. "Right, right! How could I forget about Young Master Li, the Genius! I also remember the day Zhao Feng beat him senseless on the dueling stage. The beating was so bad, his body crippled itself so it wouldn't have to keep being beaten!"

  A third person piped up. "Li Wei shouldn't have agreed to that duel. He ruined his life with that one impulsive decision. How could he possibly match Zhao Feng's skill? Not to mention that Zhao Feng can sense grade two qi and thus cultivate faster."

  "Hey, Li Wei, where are you going? Come back! We're trying to advise you on your future direction. Don't be sulky."

  Li Wei kept his head bowed, saying nothing as he walked off.

  When his tasks allowed, he made a careful detour to the sect’s Courier Pavilion, a modest stone building near the outer gate where messages and parcels were recorded and sent beyond the mountains.

  One of the core rules of the Azure Cloud Sect was that disciples could only visit their families once every two years. It was said this fostered independence and strengthened devotion to the path of cultivation. In Li Wei’s private opinion, it also ensured that loyalty to the sect outweighed loyalty to blood.

  Still, nothing in the rules forbade the sending of letters or parcels.

  So whenever he could, Li Wei prepared a small bundle for the valley below. This time, he arranged for a parcel of fresh fruits from the sect orchards and a carefully wrapped sack of gold and silver coins to be delivered to his mother.

  Within the sect, spirit stones were the true currency, used by cultivators for trade and cultivation alike. But among servants, and in the mortal world beyond the peaks, gold and silver still held value. To his sick mother, they meant warmth in winter and rice in the jar.

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  He recorded the delivery under his name, paid the small courier’s fee, and left without drawing attention.

  By nightfall, the sect grounds were quiet again. The stars glimmered above the peaks, and Li Wei sat alone in his quarters, studying the manuals spread across the floor. The lotus within his dantian pulsed softly, feeding his meridians with gentle streams of azure qi that dissolved into his flesh. He guided it carefully, tempering his body inch by inch.

  A sudden shout broke the silence.

  “Stop! Please, don’t take it!”

  The voice came from the training yard beyond his window.

  Li Wei frowned and stood.

  Through the shadows, he saw three young servants cornered against a wall by a group of outer sect disciples. The bullies wore fine blue robes, their smug faces lit by the torchlight. One held a small pouch of spirit stones, clearly taken from the servants.

  “You think trash like you deserves cultivation resources?” sneered the leader, a tall youth with narrow eyes. “Hand the rest over and maybe we won’t break your legs.”

  The frightened disciples clutched each other, powerless to resist.

  Li Wei’s jaw tightened.

  Ignore it, he told himself as he began to walk away from the window.

  Just then, one of the bullies spoke. “Useless till the end, aren’t you? Servants are such waste of space. At least ordinary mortals can dream of becoming kings. But you lot? You can only acquiesce to whatever we want. And what I want are those spirit stones… so hand them over!”

  Li Wei froze mid-step, the bully’s words reverberating in his heart.

  Useless till the end, aren’t you?

  Useless till the end, aren’t you?

  Useless till the end... aren’t you?

  He had power now. Was he just going to sit back under the excuse of hiding his abilities, and watch his fellow servants be harmed? Memories of his own humiliation surged—the mockery, the cold stares, the helplessness of being cast aside, his fiancee’s very public cancellation of their engagement.

  His fists clenched.

  He fetched a mask of an angry Buddha he had found months ago in the fields and tied it around his face, covering his features. His eyes alone remained visible, sharp in the moonlight.

  Moving silently, he stepped out through the back of the servant quarters. He walked around the building and approached the courtyard from the front, so as to appear like a passersby who chanced upon them.

  The bullies turned at the sound of his approach.

  “Who’s there?” the leader barked.

  Li Wei said nothing. He strode forward, his posture calm.

  One of the outer sect disciples laughed. “A servant wearing a mask? Hah! Do you want to die?”

  The tall leader sneered and stepped forward, swinging his fist. “Get lost before I—”

  Li Wei moved. His palm struck the bully’s chest, sending the youth flying back into the wall with a thud. The other two blinked, stunned, before charging at him.

  Li Wei dodged smoothly, striking once at a shoulder, once at a stomach. Both disciples collapsed, groaning on the ground.

  The courtyard fell silent.

  The servants stared wide-eyed at their masked savior.

  Li Wei looked down at the bullies sprawled before him. His strength now rivaled any outer sect disciple, yet he had held back deliberately. He could not afford to kill or cripple anyone. Not yet…

  Without a word, he turned and leapt into the shadows, vanishing before anyone could demand his name.

  Behind him, whispers began.

  “Who… who was that?” one of the rescued servants stammered.

  “I don’t know… but he moved like lightning. Did you see? He defeated them in a blink!”

  “The servant quarters must have a hidden expert watching over us.”

  “A masked disciple…”

  By morning, rumors of the Buddha Mask Disciple had spread like wildfire throughout the outer sect.

  In the kitchens, in the laundry yard, in the training halls—everywhere disciples gathered, they whispered about the mysterious figure who had appeared in the night.

  The three disciples Li Wei defeated could not hide signs of having been involved in a fight. Their bruises announced their humiliation to the whole outer sect.

  Some believed the Buddha Mask Disciple was an elder testing the outer sect. Others claimed he was a rogue cultivator who had sneaked into the sect disguised as a servant. A few even believed he was the spirit of some long-dead genius, returned to punish the arrogant.

  Li Wei listened quietly as he went about his chores.

  No one looked twice at him.