Chapter 4 — The Weight of Power
The corridor outside Zhao Ren’s room had grown quiet.
Li Tian stood for a moment longer outside the door, listening.
Inside, Zhao Ren was still pacing. The muffled sound of footsteps echoed faintly through the wooden panels, followed by another low curse.
Li Tian shook his head slightly.
Zhao Ren had always been like this.
Brilliant in many ways. Determined. Hard-working.
But his temper was a blade that cut in every direction.
In the royal academies, that temperament had only led to heated debates and bruised pride. Here, among cultivators, such behavior could lead to far worse consequences.
Li Tian exhaled slowly.
If he continues like this… he will become a liability.
The thought lingered briefly before he dismissed it.
There would be time to deal with Zhao Ren later.
For now, Li Tian turned and began walking down the corridor toward his own room.
The ship hummed quietly around him, spiritual formations embedded within its structure radiating a steady, barely perceptible vibration. Outside the small windows lining the corridor, clouds drifted slowly past as the vessel continued its journey through the sky.
Most of the other candidates had already retreated to their cabins.
The hallway was nearly empty.
Halfway down the corridor, Li Tian slowed.
One of the cabin windows across from his own room was open.
Soft lantern light spilled through it.
Inside sat Sun Mei.
She appeared to have just finished arranging several scrolls on the desk beside her bed. After a long day of travel, even her composed posture seemed slightly relaxed.
With a quiet sigh, she reached up and loosened the clasp of her outer robe.
The fabric slipped free from her shoulders.
She stretched lightly, as though easing the stiffness from hours spent seated upright. Her long black hair fell loosely down her back.
The lamplight behind her traced a gentle outline along her silhouette.
For a moment she stood there, unaware of any observer.
The robe slid slightly from one shoulder as she prepared to change into something more comfortable.
The scene was simple.
Ordinary.
Yet something about the quiet vulnerability of the moment—someone who believed they were completely alone—held Li Tian’s attention longer than he expected.
He had always known Sun Mei was attractive.
Anyone with functioning eyes could recognize that.
But this was… different.
Unfiltered.
Natural.
For a few seconds, Li Tian simply stood there.
Watching.
Not out of malice.
Not even out of desire.
Just quiet curiosity.
Then Sun Mei stopped moving.
Her brush, which had been resting loosely between her fingers, lowered slowly.
Her eyes lifted.
Their gazes met.
For one frozen moment neither of them moved.
Then—
Bang.
The window slammed shut with enough force to rattle the wooden frame.
Li Tian blinked.
The shutters remained firmly closed.
For a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the wooden panels.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Then a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
A quiet, slightly sheepish smile.
“...Right,” he murmured to himself.
He rubbed the back of his neck lightly.
“Lost myself there for a moment.”
Sun Mei was many things—disciplined, sharp-tongued, composed.
She was also, apparently, far more perceptive than he had given her credit for.
Li Tian exhaled softly through his nose, amusement flickering in his eyes.
I’ll probably have to make that up to her later.
Shaking his head at himself, he turned and continued down the corridor toward his room.
---
Inside his cabin, Zhao Ren sat on the edge of his bed with one hand pressed against his jaw.
The bruise throbbed beneath his fingers.
He winced and rubbed the spot again.
“Bastard…”
The word slipped out between clenched teeth.
He had lost count of how many times he had replayed the earlier humiliation in his mind.
The laughter.
The mocking smiles.
The effortless punch that had sent him crashing to the floor.
His fists tightened.
Outside the door he heard footsteps.
Li Tian’s footsteps.
Zhao Ren recognized the calm, measured pace immediately.
The sound paused briefly outside the room.
Then continued down the corridor.
Zhao Ren snorted quietly.
“So the great strategist finally ran out of advice.”
He leaned back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.
For several seconds the ship remained quiet.
Then—
Bang.
A sharp noise echoed faintly from somewhere further down the hallway.
A window, perhaps.
Zhao Ren frowned briefly before dismissing it.
His thoughts drifted back to the earlier confrontation.
And the anger returned.
---
Cultivators.
Even thinking about them made his jaw tighten.
From the moment they boarded the ship, those people had behaved like kings among servants.
Looking down on everyone else.
Especially the scholars.
Trash scholars.
The phrase echoed again in his memory.
Zhao Ren’s fingers curled against the mattress.
Scholars were not trash.
Scholars built kingdoms.
Scholars drafted laws.
Scholars advised rulers and managed entire nations.
Without scholars, a kingdom would collapse within a generation.
His father had told him that countless times.
Zhao Guowei had always spoken of their profession with quiet pride.
“A strong army may defend a nation,” his father once said.
“But wisdom is what allows it to endure.”
Zhao Ren had believed those words completely.
He still wanted to believe them.
But today—
None of it had mattered.
Those cultivator candidates had not cared about scholarship.
They had not cared about knowledge.
To them, scholars were little more than servants who recorded information and counted resources.
The humiliation burned in Zhao Ren’s chest.
His fist struck the bed lightly.
Then his thoughts shifted.
To Li Tian.
Zhao Ren frowned.
Li Tian had stood beside him during the confrontation.
Calm.
Collected.
Completely unbothered.
Even while Zhao Ren’s anger was boiling over, Li Tian had spoken as if explaining something obvious.
“We are scholars. This is not our battlefield.”
The words returned now, irritating him all over again.
That tone.
Li Tian always spoke like that.
Measured.
Patient.
Almost as if he were explaining something to children.
Zhao Ren had hated that tone since they were young.
---
A memory surfaced.
The academy debate hall.
Students seated in a wide circle around a long wooden table.
Scrolls stacked neatly across its surface.
The topic that day had been taxation reform.
Zhao Ren had spent days preparing his argument.
He studied provincial grain records.
Memorized legal precedents.
Calculated projected harvest yields.
When his turn came, he presented his proposal confidently.
Several instructors nodded as he spoke.
Then Li Tian responded.
Quietly.
Without raising his voice.
Within minutes, Zhao Ren’s entire argument collapsed.
Not through insults.
Not through ridicule.
Just careful reasoning.
Point by point, Li Tian exposed the flaws in the proposal.
By the end of the discussion, even Zhao Ren could see the weaknesses in his own argument.
The instructors praised Li Tian’s insight.
The other students murmured in admiration.
And Zhao Ren’s father…
His father sighed quietly.
Then said the words Zhao Ren would never forget.
“You should learn from Li Tian.”
Those five words had burned deeper than any insult.
---
Zhao Ren rubbed his face again.
The truth was frustrating.
Because despite everything…
He knew it was true.
Li Tian was a genius.
Politics.
Economics.
Strategy.
Administration.
In nearly every field of scholarship, Li Tian understood things with a clarity few others could match.
Zhao Ren worked harder than most people.
But Li Tian simply understood faster.
That difference had followed him his entire life.
And even now—
Even here—
Li Tian had been the calm one again.
The rational one.
The one who understood the situation better.
Zhao Ren clenched his teeth.
Before he could dwell further on the thought, the entire ship suddenly shuddered.
A deep vibration rattled the walls.
Zhao Ren shot to his feet.
Another tremor passed through the vessel.
Voices shouted in the corridor.
“Something struck the barrier!”
Zhao Ren rushed outside.
---
The moment he stepped onto the outer deck, a massive shadow swept across the sky.
He looked up.
And froze.
The creature circling the ship was enormous.
Its wings stretched wider than several houses.
Jagged metallic scales covered its body.
Its hooked beak gleamed beneath the sunlight.
The beast shrieked and dove toward the ship.
Its talons slammed against the glowing formation barrier surrounding the vessel.
A ripple of spiritual light flashed across the hull.
The entire ship trembled.
Several cultivators stepped forward.
Spiritual energy began gathering around their bodies.
Zhao Ren stared.
He had read about cultivation techniques countless times.
But seeing them in person…
Was completely different.
One of the cultivators—a tall young man in dark blue robes—stepped forward confidently.
Whispers spread through the crowd.
“That’s Chen Zhaoyun!”
“He passed the outer disciple examination last year!”
“They say he’s already close to another breakthrough!”
Chen Zhaoyun stepped onto the railing.
Wind whipped around him.
Yet he stood perfectly balanced.
Then he raised his hand.
Spiritual energy gathered into his palm.
Zhao Ren could actually see it.
A swirling force that distorted the air itself.
“Mountain Splitting Palm!”
His strike erupted forward.
A violent burst of Qi slammed into the beast.
The Skyfang Roc screeched as the invisible force struck its body.
Other cultivators joined the attack.
Sword light flashed.
Energy techniques streaked through the sky.
The air filled with violent bursts of spiritual power.
Zhao Ren barely noticed the cheering around him.
His eyes remained fixed on the sky where Chen Zhaoyun floated above the deck, spiritual energy still swirling faintly around his palm.
That single strike…
It had crushed a beast large enough to tear through the ship's defenses.
Just like that.
Zhao Ren’s hand rose unconsciously to his jaw.
The bruise throbbed faintly beneath his fingers.
A memory flashed through his mind—the earlier confrontation.
The mocking laughter.
The casual punch that had dropped him to the floor.
If he had possessed even a fraction of that kind of strength…
Would that scene have ended differently?
Would anyone have dared to treat him like that?
His fingers tightened slightly.
Scholars spent years memorizing texts. Studying policies. Learning strategy, administration, governance.
Years of effort.
Years of discipline.
And even then, respect was something that had to be earned slowly.
Carefully.
But cultivators…
Zhao Ren looked up again as the last traces of spiritual energy faded around Chen Zhaoyun.
One strike.
And the entire deck erupted in admiration.
Respect.
Praise.
All earned in an instant.
Zhao Ren exhaled slowly.
Only then did his gaze drift briefly toward a young man standing quietly near the edge of the deck—the same one who had ended the earlier fight with a single punch.
The man watched the scene with little reaction.
Calm.
Almost indifferent.
Zhao Ren frowned faintly.
Not impressed?
Then he scoffed quietly to himself.
Arrogant cultivators.
Chen Zhaoyun suddenly leaped into the air.
Actually leaped.
As if gravity itself barely mattered.
He appeared above the Roc.
Then his palm descended.
The strike landed like a falling mountain.
A cracking sound echoed through the sky.
The Roc’s body convulsed.
Then the enormous creature plummeted into the clouds below.
Dead.
For a moment the entire deck fell silent.
Then cheers erupted.
“Senior Brother Chen is incredible!”
“That strike was amazing!”
Chen Zhaoyun landed smoothly back on the railing, clearly enjoying the admiration.
But Zhao Ren barely heard any of it.
His hand had not left his jaw.
The swelling was still there.
A dull reminder.
If he had possessed that kind of power earlier…
He would not have been the one lying on the floor.
He would not have been the one humiliated in front of everyone.
No arguments.
No debates.
No long nights studying political theory or economic strategy.
Just strength.
Raw, unquestionable strength.
Zhao Ren’s gaze lifted slowly toward the sky again.
So this…
This was the power cultivators wielded.
His eyes shifted once more toward the quiet young man near the railing.
The man was already turning away, as though the entire spectacle had lost its interest.
Zhao Ren clicked his tongue softly.
“Tch.”
Some people really did carry themselves like the world revolved around them.
Then he glanced again toward the cultivators standing proudly on the deck.
None of them were scholars.
Yet none of them had needed to be.
For a long moment, Zhao Ren said nothing.
Then slowly—
He lifted his gaze back toward the endless sky.
