The grand gravel terrace before the Hall of Myriad Spirits was bathed in the pale, amber light of dawn.
Unlike the noisy military musters of traditional sects—with their clashing bronze gongs, fluttering silk war pennants, and haughty elders shouting martial oaths from flying swords—the gathering on the terrace felt remarkably grounded, calm, and practical. Instead of rows of barbed axe-spears and spirit-total ruin siege engines, the wide courtyard was stacked with towering tiers of dried sweet potato strips, sacks of hardy turnip seeds, bundles of spirit-bamboo slips, and heavy wooden tool chests bound with thick bands of forged red bronze.
Lin Xiao stood at the center of the terrace in his human scholar form, his midnight-blue robes fluttering gently in the brisk mountain draft. The morning sun cast a warm golden gleam across his slender dark shape. It reflected off clear sapphire eyes that held neither the cold calm distance of immortal fighters nor the anxious dread of mortal generals. Beside him on a small wooden stool rested a fresh pot of steaming roasted barley tea and a bamboo plate of sweet bean pastries. It he nibbled with unrushed contentment.
Beside him, Su Ling’er was reviewing the final cargo manifests. Her nine snowy-white tails brushed gracefully against the hem of her vermilion silk robes as she checked off inventory items with a polished jade metal pen. Xiao Hei sat quietly at her left side, his massive black wolf head held high, his ruby eyes scanning the gravel terrace with steady…
