The first ray of sunlight that struck the earth, a blade piercing heaven and earth— a dazzling beam of light that burst from beyond the horizon. Shadows for silence on the still lake of sky flung out behind them, billowing clouds lit brazenly aglow— alight, burning with aureate fire and radiance divine as the incandescent, indescribably blazingly brilliant drop of golden sun rose inexorably on its ark upwards.

Saffron morning tinged the skies scarlet, and Lily let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “It’s…” words escaped her. “Beautiful. Do you see this every morning?”

Zhihu chuckled. “If I want to. One day, when you’re in Foundation Establishment with your own flying sword, you’ll see a thousand things far greater and more terrible than this.” She shivered slightly at the prophecy, feeling—

Lily looked out at the sunrise over East Saffron and felt the magic of the moment. Cultivation… logically, of course, she’d always known that it was going to be a grinding and brutal road to vast cosmic power, because she’d never accept mediocrity… but, but this! This reminded her of the magic

of it, and there was something profound about that.

“I told Suli that I’d meet him at dawn, so— we mustn't be late.” With a burst of qi she could feel, the sword lurched back into motion, slicing through the air north faster and faster until the world around them seemed more a blur than anything real. A fair few minutes later, with a nauseating braking maneuver that made her very glad she hadn’t eaten anything before setting off, they drifted to a stop above one of Old Saffron’s smaller isles. It had to be one of the northernmost islets— she could barely see the city behind them, and if she squinted she could just barely make out a few hazy peaks in the far distance.

Lily stumbled off Zhihu’s sword, not even pretending to be anything but glad they were back on solid ground again. Out of the city, the cold wind over Saffron Lake caught at her hair and whipped it around, sunlight running through the fluttering mess and first shoots of springtime, the whole scene so faintly aglow. It certainly felt magical.

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“Hmph. Little Tiger, you’ve got to be more careful with these things.” She glanced up at the second voice— then paled. Standing silhouetted against the far sun rising, hand clasped behind his back and dressed in the dark lazurite-blue robes of an inner

disciple, stood a man. A sickening feeling sank into her stomach. She’d just made herself look bad in front of an inner disciple. She’d never met someone more powerful in her entire life.

Hasily, she dropped to her knees on the cold earth and bowed as low as she could. “This one greets the favored disciple of the Bloody Saffron Sect.”

The man snorted softly. “At least she’s polite. Unlike someone I happen to know.”

“Keep it in the sect, please,” whined— whined! Zhihu as she lazily summoned her sword into her hand and walked up beside the inner disciple. “And don’t insult her too much. That is, if you still want those formations I promised.”

“Really?” For the first time, he turned towards her, and Lily restrained a squeak as his gaze settled upon him. A vast and terrible pressure existed about him, centered entirely around those— eyes, fathomless pits gleaming, rubies akin to the sunrise behind him. “You have a backer of some sort, then? Not what I would have expected from the 32nd, but Little Tiger always manages to impress.”

“Hey! Stop that.” Zhihu scowled playfully, throwing a punch at the stoic-looking disciple— and doing nothing, not even ruffling his robes. Lily would have thought she’d hit with less force than a feather if it wasn’t for the way she heard it, felt it, as the waves behind the island were blasted back beneath the concentrated pressure of that single move. Both of them were so strong. “Anyways— she does have a backer, but frankly it’s up to you if you want to try and convince that man to make you anything. He has… very peculiar priorities.” She shook her head. “No, no— Lily is the one that will make your formation for you.”