This is the precursor to the [Conception Visualisation] - a base explanation as all things come in sequence - yet the similarities demand I write it so.

Here, and upon opening, do the foundational senses open that allow for the better manipulation of external Qi.

Greater degrees of control expand within this growth, and further along the Path of [Mind], as seen through the various stages.

The [First Gate Meridian] introduces the framework that is, standardly, used for the manifestation of the [Conception Vessel]. Myriad methods are followed, depending on Sect, geography and numerous factors more spread than the Heavens themselves.

Yet, mundanely, it grants the ability to direct one’s mind into the illusory realm that will govern most [Mind] aligned practices of meditation and cultivation.

A root upon the tree where one sits.

A grain upon the shore.

A pebble upon the peak.

If one cannot manifest the adequate will to arrive here, then already the Path has run dry.

- “The Glory of Mind,” by [Three Indignancies Mentor]

A blink drew understanding, for Fu’s emergence from the [Array]-imposed realm revealed four collapsed bodies upon the gold.

He Ting had fallen first, now sallow and comatose from the gradual drain Ban Bingbai’s opportunity provided. A Numbered-Vajra of Zhu’s choosing withered aside her, scarcely a breath in her stagnant chest.

Of Fu’s choices, only a youth remained. Udvah was quashed, the [Spirit Toad] near dry upon his forehead. His third recruit, a kind-faced spearman sat in stern contemplation on the second stage of the trial, heedless of his twin sister left to the [Array’s] torment but two steps over.

The intensity has increased four times, fed by the energies intended to aid those who have fallen. That may explain the second vision’s burden.

He wiped the visceral trail from his mouth, swallowing what remained within his copper-tanged mouth. His Elder would have him butchered to appear so unseemly and improper. Ban Bingbai, however, paid no attention to any ahead.

Content upon Guang’s shell, parchment in hand.

Fu weighed his choices.

To wait- to recover his mental energies and vitalities was of undoubtable value. Yet, should further disciples fall…

Recent progress muddies my senses. It is a keen edge to walk, opportunity and danger. I should not tarry.

He allowed his [Ink] to waft before him.

An attainment of two [Dao Principles]. Truly, Shuidi’s insight was peerless to afford such treasures. Her history, no doubt storied, if the vision spoke true.

“Gratitude, sister,” he managed to whisper.

The approximation of a misty whimper returned. His [Spirit Crab], untempered with the [Resilience] of [Body]. She was cradled in Hushi’s arm, cushioned beneath his watchful care as both octopus and cultivator impressed their desire for her rest.

Hushi met Fu with a resolute stare, though he was well humbled. Touched, perhaps, that Shuidi had gone to such lengths to grant insight, the dangers of which he shared in his own wordless way.

Fu allowed himself a count of one hundred breaths in which to re-align himself. These small draws of [Air Qi] proving to be little comfort.

He stepped forth.

The trials had aligned themselves in Paths thus far, drawing Fu to wonder what trial might concern this serpent.

Each scale matched his height, and these were perfect, oval things. Coldly iridescent, to forge the misconception that he may well face a muted rainbow and not the fanged titan that coiled about this freshest of arenas.

A plateau of ice that offered no chill.

Previously Ban Bingbai’s [Array] had imposed restrictions and so Fu searched for the limits set on his abilities. An eagerness for the [Dao] had his brow furrow, unable to test his new insights, nor merge them with an [Art] that did not answer when called.

When the [Spirit Serpent’s] flood of [Intent] gushed across the area, he responded in kind. Central- trapped within the loop of this vast creature’s coil, the weight of their souls clashed in all directions.

Immediately, a pressure took hold. Something crushing, as he suspected his [Dao] to be, and mounting.

Fu folded into the lotus position.

This strain was intense, but imminently bearable. As such he stilled his heart, as Hushi and Shuidid did in turn, coming to rest upon him as myriad lights flared upon the [Spirit Serpent].

What comes?

[Intent] was a double-edged blade for spectres. Revelatory when unrestrained, and a foundation Fu had yet to sharpen.

He breathed his way through the strain. His skin pained, his mind - already dulled from all that had come before, and his spirit now tested against such persistent weight.

[Killing Intent] blossomed.

One scale upon the [Spirit Serpent’s] flesh loosed a phantasm of iridescent hue, and it roared from on high to impact him. So fleet that the conjuration’s fangs poured through his chest before he might even move.

A gasp broke free, for this blow diminished him greatly.

Another pang of [Killing Intent] emerged above. With no [Half Cloud Step] to bolster him, he lanced back to see the conjured serpent give chase. Three bounds, and it severed the distance. Fangs, puncturing again to further the diminishment.

“Our spirit,” he gasped. “We cannot take it.”

Inwardly, the stability of his [Core] shook. These blows of [Killing Intent], they severed the glue of his being. Holistic damage that found no defence as it struck.

Frustration mounted as the third serpent loosed.

Fu’s own [Killing Intent] met it, disintegrating the construct at the edge of his power. But he choked upon its use.

It was too wild.

The work of a reckless fool.

Akin to the force exerted by some lacking young master.

Such were the energies of this place that his anger resonated with the air. A reddened stain where his will had manifested.

The fourth serpent came. The fifth, sixth and seventh. Yet he could not regulate his [Intent]. Time proved an axe in this, for he could not maintain it without expending himself. Nor could he allow the serpents to strike and reap more of him.

Ban Bingbai would not have it performed this way.

The eight serpent rose.

Fu drew upon his [Control]. Beyond its gift of contorting limbs and prodigious balance. Second came his [Senses], and he had them marry.

His [Killing Intent], dome-like in its standard form, compressed at his command. Neater and neater yet, until the force was as a layer of second skin upon his palm. No tint to mark it, but evident to any with the barest hint of detection.

A slap disintegrated the eighth serpent.

Pain came. One droplet in the lake through which he swam. However, Fu persisted, and held the force in place as the ninth came.

The tenth.

At the eleventh he adjusted his output. Sweat-drenched, furrowed brows marking his effort as he strove to find the perfect balance to surpass this trial.

Blood oozed from his nostrils as it broke his attempt. Mid-stumble, he grimaced, turned an eye to the myriad scales that had yet to deliver their serpents and muttered a muted curse beneath his breath.

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With a total such as this, at least his practice would not dry of targets.

🀩

The [Mimamsa Sage] had flourished. Now the arm of a central mass, one ill-tended for its growth was disparate between sections.

Zhu’s towered as his own did, waist height - perhaps to mark their shared position at the third stage of the [Four Directions Tribulation Array]. His companion was still within its grip, however, and Fu knew not what this signified.

Duress had winnowed Fu beyond contemplation.

So saying, he slumped upon the inscriptions. Only a half-care restraining him from the boundary of another’s segment. That bathing of gold that night’s arrival had made all the clearer.

Yet so did it retract from his view. The running tally of cultivators that remained in contention.

The intensity…

Fu shook.

My companions will prevail, or they will not. That Zhu leads is enough.

His guess at the categories of [Body], [Spirit] and [Mind] had fallen short, for the tests were more of Qi understanding, of the [Dao] and [Intent]. Ancillary features to broaden both foundation and one’s overall cultivation.

That which Master Ban marked as a crucial minimum.

Trauma radiated through him. Akin to a weakening heat. An excuse perhaps, that had his foot remain stationary.

“Hushi. Shuidi,” he asked. “Are you well?”

Weak impressions returned.

Fu’s attempted smile surfaced much coughing, an agony in each. “It was cheap, no? To leave the trial of [Intent] the moment our [Paifang] opened.”

Neither partner accepted this. Indeed, Shuidi surfaced a portion of her [Intent] as counterpoint, clad around a pincer. This was stifled by Hushi’s warning impression, if welcomed.

The scene appeared settled. Pained, for a regular chorus of heaving chests sounded upon the peak, but enough that he might rest. Should another disciple fall-

Some sick semblance of a grin spread upon him, for the Heavens truly cared little. There, some few strides distant, did a woman of Zhu’s recruitment fall. Noises of suffocation and writhing passed from her spot, and the intensity of Qi within the [Array] only waxed.

He was washed beneath gold, and beneath the nutrients that further sprouted his [Mimansa] sprig ahead.

“Once,” he laughed. “Once I complained that I had no shoes. Then I met a man with no legs. Is this not the truth?”

Hushi drew the douli from their ring, setting it upon Fu’s head that his midden might be available when needed.

They stepped forth.

🀩

Oh?

The boundary line changed little, delivering him at the [Array’s] true centre as a normal walkway might.

No illusory realm stole him, nor was a trial commenced.

A fool would sag in relief, yet… yet Fu approached the [Mimamsa Sage], his hand gently cupping the growth.

The solid Qi within resonated with his palm, offering nothing else. Thus, after another moment, he harvested it. One tug, and the entire branch was cleanly uprooted to have it rest in his grasp.

Behind, the [Four Directions Tribulation Array] underwent a shift. Merely a dimming of gold, wherein all the interwoven lines and inscriptions became less, now bereft of another source with which to feed it.

Fu blinked.

Hushi and Shuidi mirrored this.

“Well done, Gao Fu,” called Master Ban, piercing the shock.

Fu blinked again.

Upon a swivel, the fisherman’s head spun. Pain remained. Thirst. The mental sting and debilitation of all he had endured.

To have such an abrupt end had the bemused man pinch himself as if to wake from a dream.

But as he walked from the darkness in his wake, where his tenth segment had faded to leave nine, he found it was no mistake. Merely a machination, if Ban Bingbai’s mirthful expression was to be read correctly.

As Fu set himself in a bow before his Master, this only grew.

“Peace Gao Fu, you’ve surpassed the seminar,” he greeted, waving away propriety. “First, and at the tenth position, no small thing. Never have I seen you prideful, but if ever there’s cause to be this would be it.”

A small gesture led Fu to sit upon an adjacent rock. “Gratitude, Master Ban. These words are too kind.”

Bingbai hummed to himself pensively, eyes upon the trial. “A dusty old thing, that formation,” he highlighted. “If suitable. Tell me, disciple, how did you find it?”

Fu considered this. “Valuable, Master.”

“Ho, well, that wasn’t up for debate. No, no, I ask on the trials. It’s a secret I’d not share prior to the undertaking, but the inscriptions allow for a great deal of subjectivity.” Beneath him, Guang released some form of chuff, as if a punchline had just been revealed. “Where did your innermost thoughts lead you?”

The [Mimamsa Sage’s] rustled in the breeze.

“To purity, [Dao] and [Intent]. In truth, master, this disciple remains confused on the fourth trial, and had thought it [Harmony].”

Curiosity led the conversation to halt, drawn now to the [Array].

This elevation de-cluttered much of the interwoven gold, revealing but one remaining recruit. Zhu was upon the third segment, where Linhua and Niwai strove at the second. Thus, the sole recruit’s progression from [Dao] to [Intent] was clear.

A youth of striking, red-juniper braids, which was of alignment with his twin [Spirit Hares]. He wore a look of carefree exhaustion, crossing the threshold with no concern for rest. So too did Udvah rise.

Qi-deprivation and these hardships could not hold the Vajra down, it seemed, and his [Spirit Toad] announced a great croak to mark their recovery.

Fu turned back to an amused Bingbai.

“Purity,” the Master returned. “That the [Tribulation] manifested in this way may speak of your Qi imbalance. [Air Qi] fills your [Body Meridians] where you’re now a man of composite [Affinity]. Were you my student I’d eagerly amend this.”

This phrase had been uttered before, or similarly.

“Master Ban, this disciple would ask a question.”

“Oh, you’d forgo the valuable insight of your senior to ask why he doesn’t number you among his students? Most hasty of you, Gao Fu.”

Guang gave an admonishing chuff, which was settled by Bingbai’s affectionate pat.

“I’d hedge a guess that you see no difference between my methods thus far and the tutelage dispensed from Master to student. From this [Array] to the boons and resources you enjoy… know these as the benefits of your station, if intertwined with the openness to ask what you wish. To become my student requires time we neither have now, nor will have. Perhaps ask again in two hundred moons.”

His insight is akin to reading my thoughts. Am I so open?

They sat for a while in quiet reflection, viewing the scene.

Linhua rose in this time, belching a string of blood from her lungs. That she had completed the trial before Niwai was a curious thing. To surpass a Vajra, Unnumbered or no, was rare for one unloved by the [Dao] as they.

Her growth was satisfying.

But with little action, Fu returned to the Master’s words.

Qi imbalance spoke to the absence of [Soul Qi] within his already cultivated [Body]. Yet the information was not delivered in dire fashion, or with a sense of imminent danger. He pondered the implications.

[Meridian] shattering was a frightful caution, often an insult flung by fools that sought challenge. A form of crippling one’s cultivation, alongside the death of one’s [Spirit Beast] or the destruction of a [Dantian].

However, he knew they might be rebuilt.

Could he then, in such a state, add [Soul Qi] to what was already forged?

Hushi rustled beneath his douli. Gently, he impressed an image of myriad rivers, stemming out before them.

Fu nodded.

This [Array] had revealed the thousandfold paths he might walk, and the certainty that more would be revealed in time.

It is only a question of where we might begin.

“Disciple Zhu stirs,” said Bingbai, and nodded into the middle distance.

The threshold between [Intent] and, supposed, [Harmony] was breached by a stride. There, Fu’s friend met the same absence of trial as he had, though took his [Mimamsa Sage] in far less time.

Half-thunderous, Zhu met the pair with a clasping of hands. “I’ll share my gratitude for the opportunity, Master.”

Again, Bingbai waved away convention. “Second to emerge, and at ninth place. My division is truly capable.”

Small pride rose in both disciples’ chests. A warming thing.

Zhu joined Fu upon the rocks, extending his herb. “It wounds me that yours is larger. Even if its purpose is unclear.”

“[Mimamsa Sage],” offered Fu. “Though a name is where my knowledge ends.”

Bingbai chuckled. “A storied fish you hold within you, Gao Fu. Indeed. The herb is nothing more than a vessel, however. Once emptied, now filled with your own Qi. Refined, it should prove an adequate pill to facilitate your cultivation.”

Both men stowed their herbs.

“A treasure, then? Gratitude, Master,” said Zhu, drawing a bottle of spirit wine and three cups. “I’d repay it with my own.”

“A trial surpassed. Insight gained. And yet my disciples remain rowdy,” he smiled. “No. I’ll leave you to enjoy it.”

Fu only half-blinked at the audacity shown, but accepted a cup when it was thrust into his palm. Emptied of strength, neither began conversation. Merely spectated. Yet there was a warmth to this too, companionable, that shed much of [Winter’s] bite from the peak.

For hours, and in sequence, the disciples emerged victorious.

Niwai proved masterful of her [Intent], emerging third despite Linhua’s arrival at the trial’s stage before her. Hands were clasped and a customary bow was offered as he rejoined her fellow disciples.

“Third,” nodded Zhu.

Humbly, she dipped her head. Uncertainty clear.

But to this, Fu arched a brow. One imbued with a rare mischief of which she took immediate note. “Had you expected any less?” she puffed, and sat as Zhu cleared space for her to join. “Let us hope Linhua doesn’t shame us. She’s more than capable.”

Shuidi loosed a mirthful puff.

Hours again trailed, fostering concern in Fu. Tentatively, he expanded his [Senses] and found that the [Season’s] ambient Qi had dwindled from their arrival.

[Spring] comes soon. The [Array] steals days from us.

Linhua’s visceral victory had her collapse upon the [Mimamsa Sage], tarnishing the herb with all that had accumulated upon her robes. She rolled, dog-like, heaving ragged breaths upon her back, her limbs curled.

“Our sister can’t lose face,” sighed Niwai, this, a poor mask. “The other disciples will show no respect to see her as this.”

As Fu made to gesture, Linhua was suddenly upon an adjacent stone.

No subtle smile hid behind Master Ban’s parchments. “Fourth, and sixth,” he noted. “My division should stand tall with such merit.”

Naturally Linhua was of no mind to receive the compliment, but may well have writhed with gratitude before Fu extended an [Autumn Rejuvenation] pill from his ring. It was taken by Niwai, who cradled their sister disciple as it was administered.

Mental energy, and the spiritual toll taken was a thing of time, but this infusion of Qi did well to rouse her before Zhu’s chosen recruit arrived.

Almost impatiently, he bowed before Master Ban. “Master, I have completed the trial.”

“Disciple Zhao Po. The Cloud Gathering division welcomes you. My second, Gao Fu, will have you initiated upon return,” with that, Bingbai’s head returned to the parchment.

Po and his [Spirit Hares] knelt before the division with no lack of confidence. Despite the stain of effort upon them, the greeting was exuberant. “Seniors, I am in your care.”

“We greet you, brother Po,” came in alternating waves, and Fu took a greater measure of him as he sat on Niwai’s opposing side.

Or attempted to, as Udvah’s triumph proved a fitting distraction. The Vajra retrieved his [Mimamsa Sage] respectfully, hoisting it ahead on flattened palms as if to be revered. Wind-picked, the leaves jostled until he arrived to receive the same greeting from Bingbai.

“Seniors, this lacking disciple is humbled to be awarded such a station,” he said, looking greatly troubled.

“Is there something amiss, brother Udvah?” asked Niwai.

The monk nodded gravely. “Yes, apologies sister. This disciple ponders on the difficulty of gathering clouds, for the sky is plentiful yet his comrades only sit.”

A growl surfaced in Niwai’s throat. “An insult? You-”

“A little joke, yes?” bowed Udvah. “No large thing between future friends, yes?”

Zhu snorted.