"All things lost return in time — not to the place they left, but to the one who remembers."
The hidden chamber was quiet.
Not the peaceful quiet of a temple courtyard or a sleepy afternoon street — but the deeper stillness of a place forgotten by the world.
Lu Mao sat cross-legged on the worn wooden floor, his back straight, eyes closed.
A thin thread of incense smoke curled lazily toward the ceiling beams. The faint scent of sandalwood lingered in the air, mixing with the cool dampness of old wood and stone.
Outside the walls of the chamber, Azure Sky City was slowly waking.
Distant bells chimed somewhere across the rooftops.
A cart rattled along uneven cobblestones.
Vendors were already shouting their morning prices.
But here…
None of that mattered.
Lu Mao inhaled slowly.
And the world softened.
Qi drifted through the air like invisible dust.
He could not see it with his eyes, but his body had long since learned to feel it — the faint threads of natural energy floating through the world, brushing against skin and bone like the whisper of wind.
With each breath, those threads slipped inside him.
The Primordial Qi Tempering Mantra stirred quietly within his mind.
It was not an impressive technique.
Not rare.
Not powerful.
In truth, it was something nearly every young cultivator in the city knew.
A basic tempering method — the kind beginners practiced to strengthen their bodies and circulate qi before they discovered a cultivation path truly suited to them.
Lu Mao knew this well.
His father had told him many times.
"This technique is only a stepping stone. Someday you will abandon it for something greater."
Still, it had served him well.
The mantra guided his breathing slowly, steadily.
Qi seeped through his limbs, drifting along half-opened meridians before gathering in his lower abdomen.
His dantian warmed faintly.
Like a small ember buried beneath ash.
Lu Mao's breathing slowed.
Then slowed again.
The sounds of the outside world faded further away.
The mantra repeated itself within his thoughts.
Steady.
Patient.
Endless.
Then—
Something shifted.
It happened so quickly Lu Mao barely noticed.
One moment he was breathing inside the small chamber.
The next…
The world vanished.
Darkness.
Endless.
Silent.
Lu Mao stood in the middle of a vast void.
There was no ground beneath his feet and no sky above his head — yet somehow he remained standing.
This place was familiar.
Strange.
But familiar.
Because it had happened before.
Many times.
He just never understood it.
At the center of the infinite darkness flowed a colossal golden vein.
It stretched farther than Lu Mao could see in either direction, thicker than a mountain range and glowing with a deep, radiant light.
It pulsed slowly.
Like the heartbeat of the universe itself.
Golden energy flowed through the enormous vein in endless currents, illuminating the void with a soft celestial glow.
Around it…
Massive shapes floated in silence.
Vaults.
Ninety-nine of them.
Each one sealed.
Each one enormous — stone doors bound by ancient chains of glowing runes.
The runes shifted faintly across the surfaces of the vaults like living script, forming patterns Lu Mao could not understand.
The vaults orbited the golden vein slowly, like silent moons circling a sun.
Lu Mao had seen them before.
He knew that much.
But every time he came here…
He never stayed long.
His eyes widened slightly.
The golden vein pulsed again.
Thump.
The entire void vibrated with that single heartbeat.
Something deep within Lu Mao stirred in response.
His body moved instinctively.
He stepped toward one of the floating vaults.
The enormous sealed door loomed before him.
Runes flickered faintly across its surface.
His hand lifted.
Fingers trembling.
He did not know why.
But he wanted to touch it.
Just once.
Just to know—
The moment his fingers brushed the stone surface—
The world shattered.
Lu Mao gasped.
His eyes snapped open.
The hidden chamber rushed back into existence around him.
Candles flickered violently.
The incense smoke twisted sharply in the air.
His chest rose and fell as he tried to steady his breathing.
"…again."
His voice was barely a whisper.
It had lasted no more than two or three seconds.
Yet the feeling lingered.
That strange world.
The golden vein.
The sealed vaults.
Lu Mao wiped the sweat from his forehead.
This wasn't the first time it had happened.
Not even close.
Sometimes during meditation.
Sometimes while falling asleep.
Sometimes in the middle of training.
For a brief moment, his consciousness would slip somewhere else — into that strange inner place.
And then just as quickly…
He would be thrown back.
Lu Mao didn't understand it.
He had tried explaining it to himself a hundred times.
Was it a dream?
A hallucination?
Some strange side effect of cultivation?
Whatever it was…
It always disappeared before he could learn anything.
He exhaled slowly.
Then he noticed something.
The door to the chamber had opened.
A tall figure stood quietly in the doorway.
Jin Wu.
Lu Mao's father.
His cloak hung loosely around his shoulders, worn from travel. The faint scent of dust and road wind followed him into the room.
His sharp eyes studied Lu Mao carefully.
"You felt it again."
Lu Mao blinked.
"…You can tell?"
Jin Wu stepped inside the chamber, closing the door behind him.
"When your qi fluctuates like that," he said calmly, "it's not hard to notice."
Lu Mao rubbed the back of his neck.
"I don't know what it is."
He hesitated.
"It's that place again."
Jin Wu's gaze lingered on him for a long moment.
But he didn't press further.
Instead he spoke quietly.
"You'll understand it someday."
Lu Mao snorted softly.
"Hopefully before I grow old."
Jin Wu's lips twitched faintly.
Then his expression grew serious.
"You know what day it is."
Lu Mao straightened.
The answer was obvious.
"The Entrance Trial."
"The Golden Sparrow Guild does not open its doors easily," Jin Wu said.
Lu Mao's fingers tightened slightly on his knees.
"I know."
Silence settled between them.
Then Jin Wu sighed softly.
"Son."
The word landed heavily in the room.
Lu Mao froze.
His father rarely used it.
Very rarely.
Jin Wu reached into his cloak.
"I have something for you."
He removed two objects.
The first was a small wooden orb.
Dark.
Smooth.
Its surface was carved with spiraling patterns that looked almost like living veins frozen in wood.
"I found this when I found you," Jin Wu said quietly.
Lu Mao frowned slightly.
"When you were a baby… you were inside it."
Lu Mao's eyes widened.
"…What?"
Jin Wu placed the orb into his palm.
"It changed shape after you emerged," he continued. "Became this."
The wood felt warm against Lu Mao's skin.
Almost alive.
Then Jin Wu revealed the second item.
A crimson hair clip.
Delicate and finely made, its slender body carved in the old eastern style. Tiny red jewels were set along the curve, catching the dim light of the chamber and reflecting it in faint, trembling sparks.
Jin Wu held it between two fingers, studying it for a brief moment before speaking.
"When I found you…" he said slowly, "you were clutching this."
Lu Mao's breath caught.
Jin Wu turned the clip slightly, the gems glimmering like drops of frozen blood.
"I don't know for certain," he admitted quietly. "But I always assumed it belonged to your mother."
The words settled gently in the room.
Lu Mao reached forward and took the hair clip with careful fingers, almost afraid to press too hard against it.
Something stirred deep inside him.
Not a clear memory.
Not a voice.
Just a faint warmth in his chest… like the echo of arms that had once held him, long before he could remember the world.
He held the clip close, the cool metal resting against his palm, while the strange feeling lingered quietly in his heart.
For a moment he couldn't speak.
Jin Wu waited silently.
Finally Lu Mao whispered,
"I'll keep them safe."
Jin Wu nodded.
"You may not see me for some time."
Lu Mao already knew.
His father was a wanderer.
A shadow that came and went with the wind.
Still…
It never felt easier hearing those words.
"I'll pass the trial," Lu Mao said quietly.
Jin Wu studied him.
Then he placed a hand on Lu Mao's head — a rare gesture.
"I know."
For a moment they stood like that.
Father and son.
Then Jin Wu turned.
And walked out into the morning light.
Just like that.
Lu Mao remained alone in the chamber.
The wooden orb rested in one hand.
The crimson hair clip in the other.
Outside, Azure Sky City roared to life.
The world was moving forward.
And so would he.
Lu Mao stood slowly.
He slipped the orb safely into his robe.
The hair clip he held for a moment longer.
Then he stepped toward the door.
Toward the waking city.
Toward the path that would lead him to the Golden Sparrow Guild.
Toward the trials waiting beyond.
And somewhere deep inside him…
The colossal golden vein pulsed once more.
Waiting.
Watching.
For the day one of the ninety-nine vaults would finally open.