They spent some time picking through the ruins of the inner sect. Still, they were attacked, and by defending themselves, He Yu and Chen Fei drew attention to themselves. But with the beacon of Elder Cai’s Nascent Soul now absent, the parade of walking corpses turned from a steady stream to a mere trickle.

  Much as He Yu anticipated, the inner sect had been picked clean. Someone like Jin Xifeng, whose very nature demanded she take all that she could, wouldn’t willingly leave any of the sect’s treasures. They looked regardless, combing over the collapsed pavilions, the torn up gardens, and the shattered homes of former disciples. Even after it became obvious they’d find nothing of value, He Yu still searched.

  Or at least went through the motions. The absent poking through remains of the Shrouded Peaks Sect was a welcome exercise. A chance to occupy some part of his mind, and let the rest focus on the task that loomed over his future. Seeking allies.

  The southwest of the empire, having mostly been administered by the sect, was populated by minor clans at best. If he could find allies among them, they wouldn’t be at the level he’d need. Besides, they’d likely turn their noses up at him, anyway. He was a rogue cultivator now, wandering the land without family, sect, or status. Without any connections, they’d have nothing to do with him.

  If the old system of rank remained in place, he was eligible to be made into a noble. That would solve a good number of his problems. Except he’d need to petition Jin Xifeng herself to receive his rank. Given that she’d placed Xin Lu over Shulin specifically so he could keep watch for He Yu, he figured approaching her would be akin to suicide. Even if it weren’t, the thought of kowtowing to someone like her turned his stomach. It would be so against everything he’d forged his Way into, it might even damage his cultivation. Certainly his ability to advance.

  No. What he needed was to seek others like himself. Those with power who still held a commitment to the ideals of justice. Who would rise up and stand against Jin Xifeng. But where could he find such experts?

  Cai Weizhe and Zhou Shanyuan were both dead. Given their mission as the leaders of the Shrouded Peaks Sect, they’d surely have helped even a lowly Fifth Realm such as He Yu. Then again, if they’d been capable of defeating her on their own, the sect wouldn’t have fallen in the first place. The stories of his youth were from hundreds or thousands of years ago. He wasn’t certain if any of those legends still lived, and if they did, where would he begin to look?

  As he picked through the ruins with Chen Fei, he turned over his options. Then discarded them one by one. The more he thought, the more the possibilities closed off. A part of him wanted to reject what Elder Cai had said. Reject the idea that Jin Xifeng couldn’t be defeated by a single expert. Surely, if he grew strong enough, he could do it.

  With each answer less practical than the last, despair crept up on him. The only times where he wasn’t clinging on to a rapidly fading hope were those times when the walking corpses finally caught up with them. Throwing himself into a fight provided a certainty he couldn’t find in any of his other circumstances. If a spirit came to tear out his throat, there was really only one thing to do. So he threw himself into those brief moments of focus and purpose with everything he had.

  Over the course of the night, He Yu and Chen Fei made their way toward the northernmost peaks of the sect ruins. Through tacit agreement, they avoided the outer sect and the path back to the sect town. It wasn’t certain that Xin Lu would still be waiting for them, but there was little point in risking it. Heading north through the mountains before making their way back down to the lowlands wouldn’t really cost them any time. A mountain range was an insignificant barrier to cultivators of their advancement.

  By dawn they’d left the sect ruins, and by late afternoon had reached the plains that lay east of the Shrouded Peaks. They followed a road north as it hugged the edge of the foothills, and they marked the boundary between the cultivated rice paddies and the untamed forest. As night fell, Chen Fei found a suitable spot among the cedar to make camp.

  He Yu wanted to keep moving, away from the sect ruins. But he saw the wisdom. They’d both been pushing themselves for too long. A stop to cultivate now would let them move through the next day, cultivating as they traveled, and restoring their near-empty reserves. If they ran into any real trouble, neither of them was in any shape to deal with it.

  As he stared into their cook fire, her voice jerked him from his thoughts. He blinked, looked at her, then said, “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

  “I noticed. You’ve been quiet since we left the sect.”

  “Where can we find allies? Who can help us?” The floodgates opened. All the thoughts he’d been wrestling with since their last talk with Elder Cai poured out. All the discarded plans. All the hopes and doubts. As he spoke, Chen Fei listened.

  When he finally reached the end of it all and his shoulders finally slumped forward, she spoke. “What about Li Heng?”

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  He swallowed down a bitter taste at the question. For fifteen years, he’d thought about Li Heng and the others as little as he could. He’d deliberately not considered him an option. Or the others.

  “What if he doesn’t want to?” It was the fear that hung over the prospect of asking any of them. A specter born of the lingering sense of abandonment at their departure.

  “Why wouldn’t he?” She asked with a pointed frankness that told him the question was more for his sake than for hers.

  “He left once. So did the others.”

  “And before he did, he said you’d always be welcome.”

  Of course, she was right. Li Heng had said that. He Yu hadn’t forgotten. Somehow, that invitation had made it worse in a way. Made the whole time he’d been on the mountain seem like it was his fault. Or that Li Heng hadn’t meant it because he hadn’t come to seek out He Yu in that time. Or something.

  Chen Fei scooted over to him. “I get it, I think. Sure, he said you can come, but did he mean it? You can’t really know until you try, but the possibility is worse than the promise. But your father didn’t send you away, did he? He took you in and helped, even when he knew you’d be in danger if you stayed in Shulin.”

  “But that’s my dad.”

  “Didn’t Li Heng always call you ‘brother?’ Didn’t he say the reason he left was to do the very thing you want his help with? There’s no harm in trying. If he says no, yeah, it’ll hurt, but it might be better to know than not.”

  He Yu stayed quiet for a long time after that, staring into the flames. At his side, Chen Fei remained a silent, comforting presence. She was right. It would be better to know. And Li Heng had said he’d be welcome. At the very least, he’d see his friend again. If Li Heng couldn’t help, at least He Yu wouldn’t have to wonder anymore. It wouldn’t help with their search for allies, but it would take a weight off his mind.

  “We should get Yan Shirong first,” she said once he started perking up.

  “You think?”

  “His family’s holdings are on the way, and we might be learn something. He’s probably been working for the Ministry all this time. I’m sure he’s collected his share of secrets.”

  She made a good point. Yan Shirong’s Wayborn Seed had formed when he’d discovered the secret of Wang Xiaobo and Xin Lu’s sabotage back at the sect. Collecting secrets probably formed some core part of his Way. If they could convince him to come, he could help in their search for potential allies.

  Now that He Yu thought about it, Yan Shirong was probably the most likely to join them. He’d jump at the promise of riches, and they’d need a tremendous amount of advancement resources. Climbing the reams of cultivation wasn’t cheap, after all. With Yan Shirong on their side, it might even be easier to convince Li Heng.

  There was also his access to the Ministry of Information. As much as it pained He Yu to admit it, he’d always been fairly ignorant of the wider world during his time at the sect. Spending the past fifteen years in seclusion hadn’t helped that. All he really knew was that Jin Xifeng now ruled the empire, renaming it after herself. Beyond that, he’d really no idea what transpired in the Twilight Empire. For all he knew, there could be a civil war raging in some corner, and potential allies could abound. It was a small hope, to be sure, but he didn’t have much else at the moment.

  They set out at dawn. While Chen Fei was far more traveled than He Yu was, having joined the sect from much further away, she only vaguely knew the way to Yan county. They set off on the northerly road, planning to ask for directions and gather information about the Yan where and when they could. Roads led to people, after all. They’d run across a settlement of some sort, eventually.

  With at least a direction in mind, they set their feet to the road. After a quick discussion, they agreed to pose as mortals. Or at least as low realm cultivators to anyone with qi sense. It would be impossible to hide their presences fully. Neither had a very quiet spirit, after all.

  He Yu fashioned a farmer’s hat for himself out of bamboo on that first day. Since his advancement to Nascent Soul, the distant flicker of heaven in his eyes had only grown more noticeable. The hat would help him hide that. At least he’d packed his good robes away in his storage treasure. Most would ignore the nondescript peasant, especially if they stuck to the roads. The formation stones would be explanation enough for why a mortal could venture outside the protection of a settlement.

  Chen Fei was another matter entirely. For now, they just had to hope nobody questioned why a southern peasant was traveling with someone who looked to be a steppe nomad. At least she spoke the imperial tongue and had an imperial name. She didn’t even have an accent, which would lend credibility to her very true claim that she was from the mountains north of the Western Passage. What she was doing this far south, then, was a bridge they’d cross only when they had to.

  With each step taking them incrementally closer to a potential ally, He Yu’s heart grew lighter. The sect was behind them in truth, now. The ruins were just that—a collection of rubble and the walking dead. Elder Cai was gone, the last of his cultivation placed within He Yu’s cultivation manual. What that meant, he didn’t know.

  While they traveled north, he accessed the manual several times, looking for changes to the techniques it contained. There were changes, to be sure. Just not ones he could fully grasp. Aside from the revitalization of the manual itself, the techniques seemed somehow more complete. The patterns of the Cloud Emperor’s Peerless Judgment were subtly different from what he’d been practicing. He quickly adjusted to the new breathing and cycling from Elder Cai’s changes, but couldn’t determine if they were better than what he’d been doing. It wasn’t worse, so he kept it.

  All the other techniques had similar changes to them. Tiny adjustments that, although they didn’t make the techniques worse, they didn’t make them any stronger or more efficient. At least not in a way he could determine. He Yu practiced with them regardless, deciding to trust whatever it was Elder Cai had done. Especially since the real changes lay in the higher realms. The portions of the manual that remained closed to him were noticeably different. Although probing them with his qi yielded no insights, he sensed the promise of something greater than what the manual had previously contained.

  With renewed hope, and the promise of some inheritance from Cai Weizhe himself, things felt less daunting for the first time He Yu could easily remember. Yan Shirong lay ahead and to the north. And beyond, the promise of so much more. The promise of facing down Jin Xifeng herself.