“It’s not like you won the tournament,” Bai Zing scolded as she watched her daughter stuff another whole carp into her mouth. “It was only the second round. Show some restraint.”

  Behind her mother, her father was making subtle go on gestures, already flagging down a server for another dish. Bai Ning suppressed a grin, warmth unfurling in her chest. If nothing else, this was something that never changed.

  Still, she couldn’t let the comment go without a retort. She swallowed, an act that required nearly heroic effort, and beamed, her throat stinging. “This is restrained. Any other day, I would’ve ordered a whole cow, Mother.”

  Bai Zing pinched the bridge of her nose. Bai Ning had kept count over the years, so this one placed somewhere in the late eight hundreds, and let out a sigh steeped in painful resignation. The muttered, “Where did I go wrong?” that followed was practically mouthed along by Bai Ning.

  Bai Zhou patted his wife’s shoulder, turning a carefully suppressed smile her way. Bai Ning could tell, even with the frown he was pretending to wear. “Your mother is right, little Ning. You should be proud of passing the second round, but the true challenge is coming in the third. Every cultivator on that stage will have decades of experience, and the power to make it count. Don’t go in carelessly.”

  She nodded seriously, her grin fading a touch. “I won’t.” Then, because her father’s expression was starting to look a little too pleased with himself, she added innocently, “I know I’ll be facing cultivators your age.” She watched him carefully as he took a sip. “Old men, basically.”

  He sputtered, spraying water over the table, while Bai Ning laughed. Ha, served him right.

  “Ol-Old?” he exclaimed, sounding completely scandalized. “I’m not even a hundred and fifty yet! Who are you calling old, you brat?”

  This time it was her mother’s turn to pat him on the shoulder. “There, there,” she said, soft mockery in her tone. Bai Zing was even older than him, by a few years, but unlike her vain husband, she seemed largely unconcerned.

  Bai Ning put on a virtuous expression. “I’m nineteen,” she said, emphasizing the age. She also lowered her voice, out of habit. After all, that was not a secret anyone wanted revealed so early. “Compared to me, you’re practically a fossil. And if you’re so young, what happened to the brother I asked for?”

  Her father’s face turned crimson faster than she could blink. He stammered incoherently, carefully avoiding his wife’s gaze.

  Bai Zing, on the other hand, regarded her daughter with a flat expression. “What brother, you little hellion? Would he even survive with a sister like you to inspire him?” Not satisfied with Bai Ning’s pout, she continued mercilessly. “If you’re so interested in children, maybe I should find someone for you?” Her eyebrow arched superciliously, completely unafraid.

  It was Bai Ning’s turn to sputter incoherently, even as her father went into a coughing fit. She felt her cheeks heat despite her efforts to remain composed. “Mother,” she complained, her whine escaping involuntarily. “I am nineteen!” she repeated, stressing it again. “How can you say such a thing to your only daughter?”

  “What?” Bai Zing asked, clearly savoring her victory. “It’s only fair when you tease us, but not when we tease back? Tsk, tsk, tsk,” she mocked sorrowfully. “What a sore loser.”

  “Don’t give her ideas,” Bai Zhou came to her ‘rescue.’ “It was just a while back she was joking about that herself.” He turned to Bai Ning. “I don’t want to hear anything about this topic from you for at least a couple of decades.”

  Bai Ning rolled her eyes. More like a couple of centuries. That ‘joke,’ as he called it, wasn’t supposed to become relevant for a very long time. Her parents had married as was appropriate for Foundation Establishment cultivators, but she had no intention of pausing her cultivation journey so early. Her dreams were of eternity, and she refused to settle for anything less. True, she wanted to remain close to her parents, and to her friends, but she would never compromise her own ambitions.

  Instead, she gave an exaggerated harrumph, conceding the round to her parents while already plotting her next victory. After all, as a dutiful daughter, she had to keep them on their toes. It was good for old people to be shocked from time to time, she reassured herself shamelessly.

  Her mother gave her a look that suggested she knew exactly what was going through her daughter’s head, but chose to move on. “Do you have any other obligations today, or are you free? We could make a memory out of it. Besides, now that you’ve finally started caring about fashion, maybe we can stroll through the Clothing Avenue, or even meet the Diviner.” Her eyes sparkled as she mused, her finger tapping the side of her chin.

  Bai Ning preened, smoothing down her new black-and-gold robes. She had bought them on her birthday from a shop her mother recommended and was quite pleased with them. She generally didn’t care much about clothes, but looking good never hurt.

  Her father, on the other hand, looked her up and down as if noticing the robes for the first time, which was absolutely typical. He dressed nicely himself, but only because her mother insisted.

  Unfortunately, she had to shake her head regretfully. “Master Mo Jian told me to go out and enjoy myself, but a friend from the second round invited me to her house. Apparently her teacher wants to meet her teammates, and since she is a Core Formation elder…”

  She trailed off, while her mother nodded, looking a little dismayed. “I suppose it would be terribly rude to refuse an invitation from a Core Formation senior.” Then she fixed her daughter with another look, one that clearly said behave yourself. Not satisfied with just that, she even said it aloud. “Make sure you conduct yourself properly. Don’t give her any cause for offense. Senior Mo Jian can’t be cleaning up after you forever.”

  Bai Ning stifled a grin, resisting the urge to roll her eyes again. As if I’d ever start trouble with such a person on purpose. Maybe that was the downside of being known as mischievous; everyone always assumed she was about to get herself into some kind of trouble.

  She polished off the last of her food, set her chopsticks down, and leaned back with a contented sigh. The Flying Fish Restaurant – uninspiring name aside – was surprisingly good. They knew exactly how to prepare spirit-beast meat so its qi remained intact, and the decor… She glanced down at her bare feet, submerged in a shallow pool where tiny luminous fish nibbled at her toes. A delightful touch. Supposedly, the fish drew out minor impurities; having them treat your skin was considered beneficial.

  Whether or not that was true, the sensation of their quick, darting movements as she dined was undeniably fun. She could honestly say she had enjoyed herself thoroughly.

  “Should we leave and try out that stall across the stree-”

  That was as far as Bai Ning got before the voice of god interrupted her. It rolled across the entire cloud ring, the island below, and even reverberated over the sea, echoing all the way to the nearest isles. Yet despite its sheer volume, it wasn’t painful; Bai Ning heard it like someone speaking loudly right beside her ear, not a sound that shattered eardrums.

  “Attention,” it boomed. Everyone nearby immediately looked up, startled. Her parents exchanged a quick glance, then hurried to dry their feet and pull on their boots. After a moment’s hesitation, Bai Ning followed suit.

  “This announcement concerns the Tournament. After half a day of deliberation by the revered elders, it has been decided that the number of cultivators who passed the second round is too large. Thirty six cultivators have advanced, but only twelve are allowed to fight in the final stage. To reduce the numbers, a bonus round will be held tonight for all participants. If anyone wishes to withdraw from the tournament, speak now, and I will hear you.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone digested the announcement. Then her parents began hurrying her out of the restaurant, deaf to her protests.

  “Wait-” she said, her sandals still half on. “Why are we running?”

  Her father set a heavy hand on her shoulder and steered her firmly through the door and out into the street. The thoroughfare was packed, people standing stock-still, their gazes lifted skyward as if they could glimpse the source of the voice echoing above the cloud ring. Bai Ning followed their eyes and understood. The sound radiated from the small cloud hovering above the massive ring; the place where the Nascent Soul cultivators presided.

  “We need to get to Senior Mo Jian as quickly as possible,” her mother said in place of her father, clamping a hand onto Bai Ning’s other shoulder and hastening her along. Bai Ning might have protested; this felt unnecessary, and it wasn’t as though the announcement singled her out. But the grim determination on her parents’ faces told her not to argue. She let herself be dragged.

  The grand voice resumed.

  “Since no contestant has withdrawn, the bonus round will begin as soon as the sun dips below the horizon, and continue until only twelve contestants remain. The rules are simple: during this time, contestants may eliminate their competition by any means. Only deliberate harm to non-contestants will be judged a violation and the offenders will be disqualified.”

  At that, her parents slowed. Perhaps it was the reassurance that nothing would begin until nightfall. For Bai Ning, however, a mixture of apprehension and excitement stirred in her belly. A free-for-all to cut down the numbers. The contestants would descend on one another like starving hounds unleashed upon a flock of sheep.

  “In addition,” the voice continued, “cultivators eliminated during the second round may also join this bonus round. However, they must eliminate at least one existing contestant to earn a place in the third round. Remember: only twelve finalists may advance. Children, eat or be eaten. That is the way of heaven. Fight well.”

  With those final words, the voice fell silent.

  Almost immediately, the cloud ring erupted into a roar of chatter. People turned to one another, dissecting the announcement – what it could mean, who the promising candidates were (not a single mention of her name; surely she must have garnered some attention by now? But no, every conversation circled back to Fu Zhan: Fu Zhan this, Fu Zhan that). And on and on. Meanwhile, speculation swirled about what the final stage would look like after this unexpected twist.

  She only had a moment to listen before her parents picked up the pace again, weaving through the crowd. Soon enough, they were past the worst of the hubbub. Bai Ning finally twisted her shoulders free of her parents’ well-meaning but painfully firm grip, spinning to face them while walking backwards.

  “I like it,” she declared. “It gives me a chance to learn about all my opponents before the third round officially starts. And a couple of warm-up fights sound fun.”

  Her parents exchanged a look, too loaded and too quick for her to parse.

  “What?” she demanded, puzzled.

  Her mother answered. “If I know your master at all, then there won’t be any fighting. Didn’t you hear what wasn’t said? ‘Cultivators may move,’” she recited, stressing the may. “Not that they must. There’s no requirement to run around attacking people. If you spend the whole time hiding and still end up among the final twelve, that’s still a victory.”

  Before Bai Ning could scowl or jump in, Bai Zing continued, “And more importantly, the rules never stated that help is forbidden. If you find a protector and stay with them, passing is almost guaranteed, as long as the other contestants eliminate each other. I suspect this bonus round was designed to reshuffle the pool for the third stage. Likely one of the Nascent Soul seniors was dissatisfied with the previous results; this creates new opportunities without endangering the contestants they actually care about.”

  Bai Ning blinked, reluctantly conceding the logic. It made sense, but…

  “Master will definitely tell me to go out and fight,” she muttered. “It’s too good an opportunity to skip.”

  …………………………….................................

  “Absolutely not. You are going nowhere. Fan Mei and Nui Feng are on their way. We’ll spend the whole night here, and no one will dare try anything with three Core Formation cultivators clustered in one spot,” Mo Jian declared firmly. Her father nodded along, entirely unhelpful.

  “But think of what I can learn. And isn’t the point of the tournament to fight and win?” she protested, feeling her dreams of stalking contestants through the night slipping out of reach.

  Mo Jian rolled his eyes. “The point of the tournament is to win, or, barring that, do well enough to have leverage against threats, like what we faced at the auction.” Ignoring her mother’s scowl at the reminder, he continued, “Did you hit your head in the second round or something? Where is this reckless desire to engage in fights coming from?”

  “It’s not reckless,” she shot back, offended. “It’s just…” She hesitated, acutely aware of how childish it sounded, but pushed on anyway. “…everyone is talking about Fu Zhan outside. I want people to know my name too. I think I’ve done well in all the rounds so far, and if I make a splash in the bonus round, it should happen.”

  Master Mo Jian raised an eyebrow. Her parents stared at her in open shock. She understood why; she’d never shown any interest in fame before. But this time her pride had been pricked. She had done a lot: fighting a Gu, facing a dragon – indirectly, but still – and reaching Foundation Establishment earlier than many cultivators who lingered in Qi Condensation for years. Surely a little recognition wasn’t too much to ask?

  “If you’re that desperate to become well-known,” Master Mo Jian said dryly, “then defeat Fu Zhan in the finals. Besides, you might be the only one with a chance.” He finished with a pointed look, while her parents exchanged another glance loaded with meaning but ultimately said nothing.

  He was referring to her technique, the one she had learned from the otherworldly memory jade belonging to that nameless swordsman. Mo Jian had explained that what she was tapping into was a rudimentary form of xian, something only Core Formation cultivators could even begin to sense. At Nascent Soul, that instinct sharpened, but it was only at Immortal Ascension that qi truly transformed into xian: eternal, formless, inexhaustible; whatever one wished to call it.

  It was an advantage few opponents could counter, simply because even Core Formation cultivators rarely understood xian well enough to wield it effectively. Of course, that didn’t put her on their level, but against another Foundation Establishment cultivator, even one armed with a powerful artifact bestowed by a Nascent Soul elder, it could be enough to tip the scales.

  That had been his stance from the beginning: she had a real chance, and this tournament was an opportunity too valuable to waste. Since that aligned nicely with her desire to fight, she’d never examined it too deeply.

  But however much she disliked being told to stay tucked under protection, she had to concede. She was willing to ignore many of her master’s lesser instructions, but a firm refusal was still a firm refusal. He was absolutely serious about keeping her out of the bonus round. There was nothing she could do.

  She nodded to show her acceptance, and Mo Jian relaxed, lifting his teacup for a sip-

  Then a thought struck her, and she straightened so abruptly that she nearly toppled her chair. “Wait!”

  Mo Jian jolted violently, tea splashing all over his front. He cursed under his breath, snatching the cup away as his qi flared, weaving a familiar cleansing spell that dried and restored his robes in an instant. He stared mournfully at the now-empty cup, as though something precious had been lost.

  Her parents had jumped as well; her father even rose halfway, hands extended in a useless attempt to help before realizing the situation had already resolved itself.

  “What?” Master Mo Jian asked with a long-suffering sigh, still gazing at his cup as though betrayed.

  She rolled her eyes. “It’s just tea, Master. But more importantly, what about my friends? We should offer them protection too. Otherwise they’ll get eliminated.”

  He hummed thoughtfully. “It might not be necessary,” he said at last. “Didn’t you say the girl you befriended has a teacher in the same realm as me? And that you planned to visit her today? They might already be with her. I’ll send a voice transmission talisman to check. If they need help, they can come here before sundown. I don’t mind extending shelter.”

  Bai Ning nodded, relieved, and gave the name. It had stuck with her ever since Chen Zhuhe’s explanation. “Her name is Liu Rushi.”

  She watched Mo Jian’s face carefully as she said it, curious after Li Kang’s reaction, but he didn’t seem to register anything unusual. He simply nodded and flicked his wrist. A globe of red light burst into existence and shot out of the house.

  Then he glanced at her parents and smiled. “And of course, you’re welcome to stay as well. There should be no risk to you regardless, but my temporary home is yours for the night if you’d like.”

  Bai Zhou nodded warmly, clearly pleased. “Then we’ll take you up on that, Senior. It will be interesting to meet the Lady Diviner as well. I’ve heard many rumors about her beau-”

  He cut off with a strangled choke as he doubled over coughing. Bai Zing withdrew her finger from where she had jabbed it sharply into his ribs. She smiled sweetly at all of them, but Bai Ning felt a cold shiver crawl down her spine. This was not the mother she could tease. This was the mother who made her scrub the entire compound by hand whenever she was displeased. Even Mo Jian looked slightly alarmed.

  Bai Zing spoke with that same serene smile. “Many thanks, Senior, but we must decline. We’ll wander the cloud ring during the night and observe the fights.” She continued smoothly, “I imagine we won’t be the only ones. And this way, little Ning’s goal of learning more about her competition can still be met, at least partially. It’s a deep regret not to meet the Lady of a Thousand Eyes, but, well…” She shrugged lightly, as if to say that’s life, while Bai Zhou finally got his hoarse coughing under control.

  He didn’t say a word, though. It looked like he had learned his lesson.

  Outside, the sun crept lower, and somewhere on the cloud ring, all those cultivators who had fought in the second round waited for nightfall.