CHAPTER 216: A MENTOR, A QUIET OATH

I closed my eyes and let my breathing guide me. Slowly, I raised my arms and let them fall into the rhythm I’d felt atop the Soaring Swallow. The sequence Ren Zhi had narrated like a story, but that my body had remembered like truth.

Light on my feet.

Flow into the first sweep; step, twist, dip the shoulder, drive forward. I spun, weight rolling from heel to toe, and pivoted into a low sweep. My fingers brushed the dirt.

The next step came fluidly: a rise, a cross-kick, and a spiral. A jab, followed by a feint. The motion danced with the fire of the Heavenly Flame Mantra. Fast, deliberate, and unpredictable.

And then, the finale.

I leapt high, legs loose, air slicing past my skin. My body folded at the apex. The axe-kick came down hard, crashing into the dirt with enough force to send up a spray of dust.

I landed in a low crouch, hand braced against the earth.

Ren Zhi, whoever he was, had been guiding me. Quietly. Sharply.

And I still hadn’t confronted him.

I’d tried poking at the topic with Elder Ming during our morning drills. Casual questions. Hypotheticals. But he shut them down with the ease of a man who’d seen too much and knew how to deflect even more. Every time I veered close, he’d tilt his head, stroke his chin, and pivot to correcting my posture or recounting some old fairytale.

Secrets, I realized, weren’t so rare in this world.

And I had a few of my own, didn’t I?

Still, if Ren Zhi wanted to hide his strength, I wouldn’t drag it out of him. Not yet.

Instead, I turned my focus back to the form, replaying the sequence. But this time, my mind sparked with an idea.

What if I… combined it?

The axe-kick was strong , but what if I added weight?

I took a breath, walked through the motion, then tried again.

Step. Leap. Pivot in the air. And as my foot came down—

ROOTED BANYAN STANCE!

I flooded my entire body with qi, grounding it mid-fall.

The effect was immediate.

My body dropped like an anchor, faster than I’d ever moved before. My heel smashed into the dirt with a thunderous crack. My leg nearly buckled from the force, but I braced, sliding into a half-kneel.

It was like dropping my pill furnace on someone’s head.

I grinned, panting slightly.

And repeated the move again.

And again.

With every practiced movement, the transition between my activation of the Heavenly Mantra Flame and the Rooted Banyan Stance got smoother and smoother.

But not seamless.

It was harder than learning how to reinforce objects with my qi. It was an entirely different concept. There was still a lag; barely a blink, but it was there. A hiccup in my control. One moment, my qi surged like wildfire, licking at my limbs, explosive and quick. The next, I had to force it to condense, to sink, to root itself like a thousand-year-old tree. Two opposing flows. Two opposing intentions.

Fire and earth.

Speed and weight.

Every time I switched, I felt the recoil: a stutter in my balance, a hesitation in the air. I had to account for it manually, shifting my weight, aligning my spine, recalibrating the angle of my descent mid-jump. There was no room for error. If there was a single misalignment I’d either lose all momentum or crash down at the wrong angle and injure myself.

So I focused. Sharpened my intent like a blade. I listened to the internal flow of energy within my body. Felt its rhythm inside me.

Step. Leap. Mantra. Twist.

Flame. Apex. Shift—

ROOTED.

This time, I didn’t just fall. I dropped.

And just before impact, I aligned my body and flow of energy so it struck together. A unified whole.

BOOM!

The earth buckled.

A crater bloomed underfoot, almost a full pace wide. Shattered dirt and stone burst outward in jagged ridges.

I stood at its center, heel embedded in compacted earth, steam rising faintly off my shoulders.

Then it came.

Mind has reached Essence Awakening - Rank 1.

My breath caught.

I'd felt it—that stillness, that clarity in the jump before the impact. I hadn’t reacted to the lag this time. I’d accounted for it. Threaded the delay into the timing itself.

Not a revelation.

An expansion.

The world didn’t stop, it widened.

My thoughts which used to feel like a single thread I followed from point to point, now stretched into a web. Each thread held firm. I could feel my balance, the curve of my spine, the grip of my heel against packed soil. I noted the dust in the air, the slight change in wind, the heat steaming off my skin and the minute flow of energy within my body.

None of it distracted me.

None of it overwhelmed me.

They were all present, together.

As though time itself had not slowed; but I had caught up to it.

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Before, I might have noticed one thing and missed another. Corrected one angle, and lost momentum elsewhere. Now, I could take in the whole of it; not in sequence, but in layers.

So this is what it means for the Mind to reach the next realm.

I stood in the center of the crater, my body thrumming with qi and effort, and exhaled slowly.

“Oh,” said a voice behind me, dry and amused. “That one has teeth.”

I spun around.

Elder Ren Zhi stood with his hands folded behind his back, smile playing on the edge of his lips. His robes fluttered softly in the evening wind, his eyes remaining closed.

“You’ve got a knack for naming things, I hope?” he added. “That deserves one.”

I blinked, heart hammering. “How long were you watching?”

“Long enough,” he said with a shrug, though his expression didn’t shift. “Not bad form, either. A little rushed on the downswing, but the intent was clear.”

I hesitated, still catching my breath. “You’re blind.”

Ren Zhi raised a brow. “Mm. You sound surprised.”

“Because I doubt it,” I said bluntly. “You know too much. About my techniques. About cultivation, beyond that of a person telling fairytales. Like you're someone whose lived it. Either you're extremely imaginative, or…”

He tilted his chin up faintly, as if amused. “Or I’m more than a blind old bookseller.”

The smile on his lips didn’t fade, but it stopped being playful. “You’re not wrong. But you’re not entirely right, either.”

I waited, half-expecting him to brush me off. But instead, he exhaled through his nose and stepped closer, feet light on the dirt despite the stiffness he feigned in his posture.

“I told Shan Ming I would stay uninvolved,” he said. “That I wouldn’t get tangled in the affairs of sects or wars or rising stars. I’ve done enough of that in my life.”

I kept quiet.

“But,” he continued, “your mentor told me you’d reached a threshold. That you’d learned all you could from him. That you needed someone else now to push you. To break the plateau.”

My breath caught slightly. So Elder Ming had told him. Or asked him.

Ren Zhi turned his face slightly, not toward me, but toward the cracked dirt where my foot had struck. “I agreed. With one condition.”

My heart quickened. “What condition?”

I tried to reach out, to estimate, to calculate just what his cultivation rank could be. But to my senses, he just felt like an ordinary man. Compared to the qi that rolled off the Envoy in waves, or that of sect elders like Silent Moon's sect leader, Jun... there was nothing.

But my mind couldn't fully say with certainty this blind man before me was inferior to them.

And what sort of incentive would it require for him to move?

“No questions,” he said simply. “You will not ask about who I am. You will not ask me to fight for your village. You will not request my help with cults, sects, or power plays.”

He turned his face fully toward me now, his expression unreadable. “I am here to teach. Nothing more.”

It hit me harder than I expected.

Because I could feel it now; his presence. Not just the surface calm of an old man with good posture. My heart thudded against my ribs, a low drumbeat in my ears. A thin sheen of sweat prickled down my back despite the cool evening air.

Bloodlust? No.

It was closer to standing at the mouth of a sleeping volcano. Quiet. Patient. But undeniably, terrifyingly alive.

I opened my mouth to say something, but before I could, the ground shifted behind me.

A silver blur shot forward.

Windy.

He landed between us with a thud, coiled in a tight spiral, body low to the ground, fangs bared. His scales gleamed under the evening light, and his tail whipped once in a sharp crack against the dirt.

I could see it: the hesitation in his posture. The way his muscles trembled.

Windy’s tongue flickered rapidly, tasting the air, his body winding tighter as he tried to decide what this presence before him was.

Ren Zhi didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Didn’t even so much as raise a brow.

He merely stood there, hands still folded behind his back, as if the threat of a spirit beast’s fangs meant nothing at all.

“You have good instincts,” Ren Zhi said lightly, addressing Windy without truly speaking to him. “But you would be wise not to bare your fangs at a pond you cannot measure the depth of.”

Windy hissed low, a confused, reluctant sound, but didn’t strike.

I reached forward slowly and laid a hand on his side.

“Easy, Windy. It’s alright.” My voice was calm, but inside, my heart was still racing.

It took a few tense breaths before Windy’s coiled body eased a fraction. His head lowered, his stance shifting subtly from attack to guarded observation.

I looked back up at the blind bookseller, and continued with what I was going to say.

There was a part of me that wanted to question everything; how Ren Zhi could hide so much strength, how he knew so much without seeing, why someone so clearly extraordinary chose to act so... small.

But that wasn’t what he was asking of me.

He wasn’t demanding loyalty. He wasn’t demanding secrets in exchange for lessons. All he wanted was distance. Privacy.

A life free from the endless web of obligation that devoured cultivators like insects in a spider’s nest.

Was that so much to give?

If Ren Zhi had meant harm, he could have acted a hundred times over by now. Slipped away when no one was looking. Struck when our backs were turned. Left chaos in his wake.

But he hadn’t.

And somehow, I knew... taking this seriously wasn’t just about politeness. It was a measure of character. A test, whether he intended it or not.

I clenched my fists at my sides, feeling the dirt and sweat clinging to my skin, grounding me.

Then I straightened my back and spoke.

“I swear,” I said quietly, voice steady despite the slight shake I felt inside, “upon myself and my path—that I will not pry into your past. I will not seek your aid beyond the teachings you freely offer. Whatever you give, I will accept. Whatever you choose to keep, I will respect.”

The words weren’t rehearsed.

They weren’t a formal cultivation pledge.

But they came from the marrow of me, raw and sincere.

The world... shifted.

A low pulse thrummed through the earth beneath my feet, a vibration I felt more in my bones than my ears. The air tightened, like the instant before a thunderclap, and a translucent shimmer flickered at the edges of my vision.

The Heavenly Interface.

A contract has been created with a Binding Oath.

Parties:

First Party: Kai Liu

Second Party: Ren Zhi

Agreement:

The First Party shall not seek, inquire, or delve into the true identity, history, or affiliations of the Second Party, nor shall he permit others to do so on his behalf.

The First Party shall not entangle the Second Party in matters of sectarian conflict, demonic cult pursuit, village defense, or any venture beyond the scope of scholarly instruction.

Scope of Relationship:

The Second Party's sole duty shall be that of a teacher, offering wisdom, martial or otherwise, as he sees fit.

No other obligations, alliances, or expectations shall be imposed.

Duration:

This oath shall remain in effect until such time as either party severs it by mutual consent, or until the end of one party's life.

Special Clauses:

Accidental discovery of identity, if unpursued or unspoken, does not constitute breach.

If a situation arises where the Second Party must act to preserve his own life, the oath shall not hinder him.

Acknowledgment:

Upon mutual verbal assent, this contract is sealed by Heaven’s Will, immutable save by mutual release.

Binding Oath. The feature I unlocked after my first contract with the Azure Silk Trading Company.

I had forgotten about it. I didn't think there'd be a situation where I'd require it. Was it triggered when I swore upon my honor?

"What is this? What did you do?"

The old man's face turned to me, his brow furrowed. For the first time since I met him, he looked uncertain. The pressure that surrounded me intensified, stealing my breath away.

Windy, still tense under my palm, shifted restlessly, his tail flicking against my ankle.

I held my ground, raised both palms slowly in front of me.

"I didn’t mean to," I said quickly. "It wasn’t something I did on purpose. It's the Heavenly Interface."

Ren Zhi said nothing. His posture didn’t shift, but I could feel his focus sharpen like an invisible blade honed at my throat.

Carefully, I went on.

"It... listens," I said. "It makes the vow real. It turns it into a contract. A Binding Oath, enforced by Heaven’s Will. Whatever that may mean."

I paused, searching for the right words. "I've only had it happen once before. When I signed a trade agreement with the Azure Silk Trading Company. That one was formal... it needed both parties to agree. This—" I gestured awkwardly toward the faint shimmer still lingering around us, "—this just... activated."

Ren Zhi remained silent, but I could see the faint flicker of something moving behind his closed eyes.

How did it manifest for him, I wondered? Did he hear the Interface somehow? Feel it brush across his spirit like a turning page?

The seconds stretched.

Then, finally, he spoke.

"These terms," Ren Zhi murmured. "They need adjustment."

I stiffened instinctively, but he raised a hand, almost lazily, almost reassuringly.

"I agreed to teach you," he said. "But if Heaven’s Will binds it... it must be made clear. I see now, how this contract works. It is quite intuitive."

He tilted his face upward, almost as if gazing toward the stars above.

The air shimmered again. The Binding Oath screen blurred, then refocused with a faint chime.

Parties:

First Party: Kai Liu

Second Party: Ren Zhi

Agreement:

The First Party shall not seek, inquire, investigate, or otherwise attempt, whether directly or indirectly, to uncover the true identity, history, or affiliations of the Second Party, nor permit, instruct, or enable others to do so on his behalf.

The First Party shall not entangle, involve, or situate the Second Party in any matter relating to sectarian conflict, demonic cult pursuit, village defense, political intrigue, or other ventures beyond the strict scope of voluntary scholarly instruction as determined solely by the Second Party.

Scope of Relationship:

The Second Party's sole duty shall be that of a teacher, offering wisdom or martial insight solely at his discretion, without obligation or expectation.

The Second Party retains the absolute right to refuse, amend, or withdraw any teaching at any time without breach.

Duration:

This oath shall remain in effect until terminated by the Second Party’s sole discretion, or upon mutual consent, or upon the end of one party's life.

Special Clauses:

Accidental discovery of identity, if unpursued, unspoken, and unused for personal or external gain, does not constitute breach.

Should circumstances arise threatening the Second Party’s life, reputation, freedom, or concealment, the Second Party may act freely without breach of oath.

The First Party shall not create or manipulate circumstances intended to force or coerce the Second Party’s involvement.

Acknowledgment:

Upon mutual verbal assent, this contract is sealed by Heaven’s Will, immutable save by mutual or Second Party's sole release.

I stared at the screen as it finalized, feeling a bead of sweat trail down the back of my neck.

The terms were razor-sharp.

Every angle covered. Every loophole sewn shut.

Ren Zhi wasn’t leaving me any room to wriggle, whether by ignorance, accident, or intention.

It gave him all the leverage.

And still—

"I accept," I said without hesitation.

Ren Zhi raised an eyebrow, his head tilting slightly, like he was measuring me anew.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing? Binding yourself so casually?"

I met his gaze. Or as close to meeting it as I could, given the thin veil over his sight.

"Maybe," I said. "But the terms are only restrictive if I planned on breaking my word. Which I don't."

I straightened my shoulders, feeling the certainty harden in my chest.

"Even without the oath," I continued, "I'd have honored what I promised. Swearing it just makes it easier to prove."

Ren Zhi remained still, the evening wind tugging faintly at the sleeves of his robes.

"I already know," I said quietly, "that you'll let me advance my cultivation. You already have at the Soaring Swallow."

I thought of the rooftop. Of how easily he’d guided me, through nothing but a voice and a rhythm, into pushing the boundaries of what I thought was possible with the Heavenly Flame Mantra.

"And if all you ask in return is that I respect your privacy... then I'd be beyond stupid to expect you to make more concessions."

A long pause.

Then, finally—

"I accept," Ren Zhi said simply.

The interface pulsed once, blue light blooming like a ripple in a still pond. Then the screen vanished, dissolving into the air.

For a moment, it seemed like nothing changed. No flash of power, no crack of thunder.

But inside I felt it.

Something unseen. Watching.

Measuring.

As if heaven itself had turned its eye, not with hostility, but with a cool, distant awareness.

A presence that would weigh my every step against the promise I had made.

Ren Zhi shifted, folding his hands behind his back again. The old smile returned, but it was quieter now. Fainter.

"Don't seek me out," he said over his shoulder as he began walking back toward the village. "I’ll find you when the time comes for your training."

And just like that—

He left.

No dramatic vanishing act. No flicker of qi.

Just a man walking down a dirt path, as if he had been nothing more than a weathered old traveler passing through.

Windy let out a low, uneasy trill beside me, his coils brushing against my ankle.

I stayed there a long while, watching Ren Zhi’s figure grow smaller against the dimming skyline.

I had no idea what I’d just gotten myself into.

But I knew one thing for certain.

Whatever came next, whatever he intended to teach me...

It wouldn’t be like anything I had ever learned before.