The morning mist still coiled around the Sect’s mountain like grasping fingers. The sun had yet to rise high enough to bring warmth to the stones beneath their feet.

Looming ahead of them were the distinct colorful pagodas of each division, towering above all but the most revered Elders’ residences on the mountainside.

Zhao walked eagerly, though still stopping to greet his fellow sect brothers and sisters, while his entourage trailed behind him.

With Tai Yang sporting his sleeveless Inner Disciple robes while Che Fang and Gu Hong wore their uniforms, Zhao could almost be mistaken for a young master with a bodyguard, servant, and errand boy prowling for a hapless disciple to take offense to.

He had been rather surprised to find Tai Yang outside his cultivation cave in the morning, reading to serve his ‘boss’ with zeal.

Despite having denied Zhao’s initial invitation to join them at the Spirit Arts Pagoda, the robust disciple had ostensibly been possessed with the desire to demonstrate his value after discerning Zhao’s true might. Or so he said.

The four drew more than a few curious glances, as what little reputation Zhao had was that of a loner, while Tai Yang was infamous for his inability to maintain companions who wouldn’t fight him at a moment’s notice.

Judging by the whispers exchanged at their passing, the previous night’s events were already being shared around the sect.

Fortunately the early hour meant that few disciples were scattered about, especially as they drew near to the beige pagoda of the Spirit Art Division.

The color of aged parchment and decorated with runes drawn in a muddy scarlet, the building emanated an aura of indecipherability.

An Inner Disciple posted to guard their destination checked Zhao and Tai Yang’s permission to enter, only glancing briefly over the apparent servant and errand boy behind them.

As an Assistant level sect official Zhao was given the right to rent one spirit art per month in service in the form of a jade.

Thankfully he had saved eight such permission slips since his transmigration, a few having been sold in the early days of his transmigration.

“Not a single Art?” Tai Yang repeated for the dozenth time since he had begun their ascent.

“Not one.” Zhao affirmed distractedly as he retrieved his pre-prepared notes.

“But-” Tai Yang was cut off by his raised hand.

“I chose to pursue a solid foundation before practicing any arts. Please leave it at that.” Zhao requested patiently. The beast of a man grumbled but dropped his pursuit before they reached the desk with the disciple on duty.

“Hello,” the girl greeted while brushing her bangs back, “my name is Nan Xi. Please let me know if I can help you today.”

The young woman’s smile was bright until Zhao asked his first question. “Are there any arts that are flawed? For example, when practiced they result in backlash, Qi deviation, cultivation crippling, or another negative effect?”

Nan Xi’s face pinched, but with a sigh she pulled a scroll from beneath her desk.

Clearly forcing the description from her throat she said, “Myriad Voices. Known for all of the above and causing insanity. I don’t know where you heard about it, but I can assure you that none of you will be unraveling its secrets.”

Zhao merely nodded at her recommendation before asking to reserve it, which elicited a scowl but no argument from the frustrated clerk.

“Now,” Zhao began as he turned to the cheats he had gathered. Looking at their sober gazes filled him with warmth.

“I have written a list of the types of spirit arts that we are looking for.” he explained. Tapping his list he continued, “Pay careful attention and see if you can retrieve any from the shelves.”

He passed out the papers he had put together and named each type of art they might encounter. “You’ll remember we found a damaged spirit art at the market, and now we’ve got a flawed spirit art as well. That leaves those hidden from view, overlooked by the masses, or infamous for being weak.”

Rubbing his chin Zhao finished, “You might also find two average spirit arts that pair well together, one that inexplicably resonates with you, or even a fragment of a larger whole.”

Zhao concluded his instruction by adding, “Beyond these we will also consider the generic powerful spirit arts favored by the Sect.”

After pausing for a moment to collect his thoughts, he then stressed, “Remember, don’t just consider yourself. If you think you’ve found an art that compliments any one of us, bring it to me.”

The trio regarded him as if he had lost his mind, but nonetheless spread throughout the first floor of the pagoda at his prompting.

Having heard his instructions, Nan Xi informed him that the pagoda did not keep fragments of spirit arts but wished him luck in his search with a giggle.

Unperturbed, Zhao began to walk the aisles, reading the titles and introductions of every spirit art he came across.

Without a plot to guide him, Zhao had long since decided he would scour the entire first floor of arts for any hint of hope. A daunting task considering the grid-like shelves seemed endless, being taller than even Tai Yang and many strides long.

The smell of parchment and ink permeated the aisles, and as the crisp morning rays gave way to the bright illumination of noon and thereafter the warm glow of sunset, Zhao found himself reminiscing of hours spent studying in libraries in his previous life.

Near dusk a dying beam of light caught Zhao’s attention as it shone against webs coating a high sitting scroll in the corner of the building.

Quietly, Zhao called over all three of his helpers one-by-one to see if it prompted a reaction, only to have his suspicions rebuffed by each of them.

Tai Yang’s allegation that it’s just a dusty scroll was shared by Che Fang, Gu Hong, and even Nan Xi. The latter had offered her contemptuous assessment while reorganizing scrolls.

Zhao was unconvinced, as his intuition whispered in his ear. Sticking to his plan would have meant abiding by the decisions of his heaven favored companions.

Shifting his jaw, he brushed the cobwebs off the scroll and blew away the dust.

He would at least peek at its contents.

“Daydreamer’s Bliss.” Zhao read faintly.

The introduction was convoluted, reading: ‘Have you ever wanted to sleep while you were awake? Not tired enough but caught in a dream, nonetheless? Well, do I have an Art for you! This one! That’s right, I’ll teach you how to dream the best way. You’ll learn how to dream your own dreams, as you see them. Then I’ll teach you how to dream even better! Think it sounds too good to be true? Think again. Stop thinking, start dreaming. This world is mine and it can be yours, too. All you have to do is dream.’

After a more thorough examination of the actual instructions, Zhao realized that it was an art designed to teach lucid dreaming.

As far as he could tell that was all it did, but doubt gnawed at him incessantly. Placing his trust in what mortals called ‘cultivator’s instinct’, Zhao left it at the front desk in the short pile of scrolls they were gathering to check out.

Approximately an hour before the pagoda closed for the day Zhao convened a meeting of the group and was quickly dispirited as Tai Yang announced with a toothy grin that, “This has been the best waste of time ever. Haven’t found any fancy arts worth a glance, but I’ve scheduled three duels.”

Before Zhao could question how that outcome had come about Nan Xi piped in behind them with a snort, “If you were any louder today, I think Elder Shen might have come down from the top floor to challenge you himself.”

Zhao shook his head in disappointment but was relieved when Tai Yang continued, “I did assemble all the classics for you, though. They’re actually pretty good, boss.”

Sending a hopeful glance to his pair of main character level talents, Zhao prayed for a better outcome.

He was pleased when Gu Hong spoke up. “This scroll rolled out in front of me when I first started looking!”

Zhao took it and prompted him for any further discoveries causing Gu Hong to once again produce an art with stars in his eyes. Proudly he gushed, “I felt a connection with this one just like you said.”

For a moment Zhao felt the urge to strangle the bright-eyed youth that had not one but two nonsensical encounters in a day.

Instead, he just smiled and turned to Che Fang with a raised eyebrow.

The man in question shook off a puzzled look directed at Gu Hong and presented three scrolls. Listing off his find he said, “One I think is overlooked and two that pair well.”

Zhao nodded as he examined the presented scrolls and, finding them all satisfactory, walked up to the desk to check them all out.

Nan Xi smiled with crescent eyes as with a faux whisper she teased, “Find any special secret scrolls?”

Zhao gave her his best casual shrug before asking for her advice. “Seems all I’m short on is a movement art; any recommendations on one that’s great or horrible?”

Nan Xi chuckled, “Oh yes, I’ve got just the one. Phases of the Moon, something even a mortal could practice! Interested?”

Though she obviously meant it as a joke, Zhao thought that sounded exactly like a spirit art an author would place into a story and added it to his total without second thought.

Through her bangs Nan Xi examined Zhao carefully as she noted his selections. “You know, I think you’re crazy.” she said with finality as she handed him a number of scrolls bound in exchange for his slips.

The total came out to more than eight arts, but Tai Yang was more than willing to contribute his own tokens to enable their great haul.

“Where did you get those?” Zhao asked when Tai Yang pulled them out.

With a menacing laugh he recounted, “Lots of disciples like to bet them on fights.” No further elaboration was necessary.

“You’ll have to have those back within a year.” Nan Xi mentioned robotically before turning away to a scroll on her desk.

Zhao smiled as his troupe walked out of the pagoda under the stars.

Without any light pollution, the sky always brought views that he used to only be able to see when camping far away from civilization.

Lost in the vista, before he knew it Tai Yang had broken off to head home, leaving the three who had actually found wondrous spirit arts to study them over the night.

Zhao sighed wearily, deciding to leave the difficult work to tomorrow.

His earlier nostalgia in the pagoda and his thoughts of camping had taken his mind back to a different time.

Still, Zhao resolved to at least read each art before bed so he would know what he had to work with.

Pulling out a quill and ink when they arrived at his cultivation cave, he spent a few hours before bed going through the arts and summarizing them for ease of use.

Drowsiness ultimately won out over his concentration, leaving Zhao slumbering over his papers.