Fang Yuan returned to himself as the class was drawing to a close. The Elder of the Academy surveyed the room one final time before speaking.

  — This week I've taught you the foundations of contemplation and the circulation of Primeval essence within the body. The time has now come for each of you to select and refine your Vital Gu. When this class ends, you will proceed to the Gu Hall and make your choice. Once selected, return home and direct all your energy toward refining it, classes won't resume until this step is complete. Consider it your first official assessment. The first among you to successfully refine their Gu will receive a bonus of twenty Primeval stones.

  The Gu Hall stood in the shadow of the academy, occupying a space of roughly sixty square meters. Under the watchful eyes of the guards posted at the entrance, the students filed in one by one, their faces carrying the mixture of impatience and barely controlled nerves that the occasion demanded.

  When Fang Yuan's turn came, he stepped into a room with its own particular atmosphere. The air inside was cool and dense with the layered presence of thousands of Gu, a sound that wasn't quite sound, more like the accumulated suggestion of sound, emanating from alcoves that lined every wall floor to ceiling. Rock bowls, jade pots, woven grass cages, terracotta jars sealed with cloth, gray stone basins, green jade dishes. The chirping of something unseen, a faint metallic clinking, the dry rustle of wings from somewhere he couldn't immediately identify. The accumulated noise gave the room something between the quality of a workshop and a living thing. The clan spent over a thousand stones daily to maintain this inventory. All the Gu present were Rank 1, the starting point for every Master who'd ever passed through this clan's doors.

  For a Gu Master, this first choice carried consequences that extended far beyond immediate utility. A Master could house as many Gu as their resources allowed, but resources were finite, and the cost of feeding even a modest collection compounded without mercy. More critically, this first Gu would become the Vital Gu: a bond so deep that if it perished, the spiritual damage could end a cultivation path entirely.

  He moved along the left wall methodically.

  The Bronze Skin Gu, flat, orange. The Stone Skin Gu, grayish. The Iron Skin Gu, metallic black. He murmured the name of what was absent.

  Jade Skin.

  The Jade Skin Gu was the rarest of its family, its value approaching that of the Liquor Worm, the kind of thing a mid-sized clan might possess if they were fortunate. The Gu Yue clan's inventory held no such thing. He'd expected this and moved on without slowing.

  The second wall was beetles. The Great Capricorn Gu of Brute Force, metallic red, capable of granting the strength of a bull for five breaths. The essence cost made the exchange rate poor. His gaze settled briefly on the Great Capricorn Gu of Yellow Camel, prodigious endurance for fifteen minutes, no structural drawbacks. A genuine gem, but one that didn't fit the shape of what he was building.

  The third wall was the Boar family. The Pink Boar Gu, useful only for weight gain. The Flowering Boar Gu in its various configurations, temporary strength, effect lasting longer than the Capricorn but less permanent than the Black and White variants, which were, predictably, absent. Those two permanently increased strength, an ability so precious their price often exceeded the Liquor Worm's. The academy's inventory held neither.

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  He completed his survey. No surprises. In one of the alcoves, silver plates held the Moonlight Gu, the village's quiet treasure, exclusive to the Gu Yue clan and absent from the natural world entirely. It was the product of a secret creation method passed down through generations, and it looked the part: a crescent of translucent blue quartz, light as a pressed leaf, cool to the touch, weighing little more than a jade pendant.

  He picked it up, turned it once to confirm what needed confirming, and slipped it into his pocket. Then he walked out.

  Outside, the line of students continued to stretch down the path. Fang Yuan paid them no attention. He left the academy and made his way down the cobblestone paths that wound through the village, moving at an unhurried pace. The sun had begun its descent, throwing long shadows across the red-tiled rooftops and warming the stone underfoot. He passed through the main square, where the discussions about the awakening ceremony were still running as they had been for days, and continued toward the outer neighborhoods, where the smell of cooked rice drifted out to meet the sharper scent of spirits on the air.

  This was the third time he'd come to the tavern for a bottle of green bamboo wine at two Primeval stones. The wine wasn't for him, it was the essential food of the Liquor Worm, which consumed one bottle every four days. The Moonlight Gu was less demanding, requiring only two moon orchid petals twice daily.

  In this world, Primeval stones served as currency, but to reduce them to that was to miss most of what they were. They were the pure essence of the world compressed into solid form, and a Gu Master who possessed them in sufficient quantity could absorb their energy directly to accelerate cultivation, compensating, to a degree, for the limits of natural talent with the weight of resources. Fang Yuan had recovered fifteen stones from the Monk's corpse and held five more from his personal savings. At his current rate of expenditure, those reserves wouldn't last long.

  He left the tavern with the bottle under his arm and turned toward home.

  — Big brother!

  Fang Zheng's voice came from behind him, cutting through the quiet of the late afternoon.

  — Have you been to the tavern again? To buy more alcohol?

  A beat passed.

  — Come with me. Uncle wants to see us both.

  Fang Yuan turned.

  For the first time in his memory, Fang Zheng didn't drop his gaze. The two brothers stood facing each other on the cobblestones, and the change that a single week had worked in the younger was visible. The title of clan genius had begun to do its work. Fang Zheng was rising, slowly, uncertainly, drawn out of the long shadow he'd inhabited for years into a light he was still learning to stand in.

  The rumors had reached him: his elder brother, the one he'd spent his whole life measuring himself against, was retreating into drink. Spending his Primeval stones on wine. Wandering the village with a bottle and a vacant expression. The fall had broken him. It could only mean that.

  — Big brother, you have to stop this. You can't keep going like this. With Grade B talent and the mind you have, you still have a real future ahead of you. Please, wake up!

  Fang Yuan's eyes settled on him.

  They were dark and still, the kind of still that had no bottom to it, that didn't shift or flicker under the weight of being looked at. Fang Zheng held the gaze for two seconds before he felt it pressing against him from the inside, and looked away despite himself.

  What is wrong with you? You are a Grade A talent. You can't even hold his gaze.

  Fang Yuan walked past him without breaking stride, his voice dropping into the space between them with the flat weight of something final.

  — You waste your breath, Fang Zheng. Save your concerns for your cultivation. Now walk. Uncle doesn't like to wait.

  Fang Zheng fell into step behind his brother, quickening his pace to match, and said nothing more. His eyes dropped to the ground, watching his own feet move, step by step, forward through the long shadow his elder cast ahead of him on the stones.