In the silent nights following the departure of the other Duō Clan descendants, Duō Yī set his plans into motion. He would soon leave for the White Crane Sect, but before his own departure, he intended to send his clone, Yi-1, out on a separate path. This way, while he pursued the sect openly, his shadow-self could journey under a different guise, gathering insights and preparing the way.To avoid drawing attention, Duō Yī would alter the appearance of his clone. He started by dyeing Yi 1's white hair an inky black, each stroke of the brush transforming the familiar into something darker, mysterious. When the dye had set, he draped a simple black mask over Yi 1's face, concealing his identity and creating a stark contrast to his own all-white attire. Now, this figure was more than a reflection; it was his dark mirror, something that could blend into shadows where he, in white, would stand out.But with a new look came the need for a new fighting style. After a moment of thought, Duō Y

The morning sun hung low on the horizon, its golden hue spilling across the vast plain at the base of White Crane Mountain. Mist clung to the cliff face, a shifting veil that hid the endless stone steps stretching upward into the clouds. Beneath it, a sea of humanity surged—thousands of aspiring cultivators, each tense, each hungry, each ready to stake their fate on this climb.The murmur of voices rippled across the crowd. Some sharpened their focus with meditation; others fidgeted, whispering nervously."Do you think it's true? That even reaching halfway is enough to secure outer disciple status?" one youth muttered, his voice tight with anticipation."Tch. Halfway?" another scoffed, gripping the hilt of his sword. "Only weaklings settle for scraps. I'll walk to the very top."Laughter came from behind. "Big words. Let's see if you're still standing after fifty steps."Before any reply came, the air above stirred. A shadow swept through the mist—vast wings unfurling against the risi

The sun had long since reached its peak, yet its warmth did little to ease the unrelenting strain pressing down upon the participants. The stone steps of the White Crane Sect's trial stretched endlessly upward, vanishing into the sky like a stairway to the heavens. Each step was a crucible, grinding will and body alike beneath invisible pressure.The mountain did not roar, did not rage, did not move—yet it broke people all the same.By now, the air was thick with ragged breaths and stifled groans. Sacks stuffed with heavy materials clung to backs like anchors, and every rise of the staircase seemed to multiply their weight. The once-proud and cocky cultivators who had jeered at their fellows now looked no different than beaten dogs, dragging themselves step by step with eyes glazed in exhaustion.At the 200th step, bodies already littered the staircase. Some sat slumped against the stone, too weak to rise. Others had fainted entirely, their sacks rolling back down toward the foot of t

The White Crane Sect's outer courtyard was unusually lively that morning. Disciples streamed out of their residences, whispering with excitement as the sun's golden light spilled across the tiled roofs and the surrounding cliffs. Word had spread swiftly the night before: an Inner Sect elder himself would be giving a lecture in the outer sect.For many, this was a chance of a lifetime. Normally, only outer sect instructors or the rare Inner Sect disciple deigned to speak to newcomers. But an elder? That was unheard of. Even the most senior outer sect disciples were giddy, like children before a festival.Among the sea of faces were three youths dressed in modest but well-kept robes — the Duō clan members. Hushed murmurs rippled around them as disciples jostled for space on the wide plaza at the foot of the sect's jade-carved lecture platform.It had been a week since their arrival. That week had been uneventful, spent mostly exploring the outer sect, adjusting to their new routines, an

The night was quiet, the kind of quiet that carried more weight than comfort. The courtyard lay bathed in a pale silver glow as the wind brushed softly against the bamboo fence, carrying with it the faint scent of pine from the mountain slopes. A lone crane's cry echoed in the distance before fading into the silence once more.Duō Yī sat cross-legged on the cold stone mat, white hair falling across his shoulders like threads of moonlight. His expression was calm on the surface, but the stillness of his body betrayed the turbulence behind his eyes. He had been cultivating earlier, drawing threads of qi into his meridians, yet now his attention shifted inward, not on qi but on thought.His eyes opened slowly, and with the faintest ripple of intent, a translucent status board appeared before him, floating in the night air.[Name: Duō Yī][Race: Human][Status: Damaged Soul (X)][Realm: Qi Gathering Realm (3rd Stage)] [Mortal Flesh I][Life Span: 13/60][Abilities: HIVE][Skills: {Fundame