It had been a day, since my victory against Dong Li.

  “Man, what a crowd…”

  I yawned, the morning breeze brushing cold against my skin as the excitement finally bled out of me. From the roof of the manor, the courtyard below looked busy and orderly, almost peaceful. The Boulder Path Sect and Phantasm Star Sect were conducting their tests, lining up martial artists and hopeful cultivators to finish their recruitment as if nothing extraordinary had happened yesterday. Life really did move on fast.

  I sat with my legs dangling over the edge, watching the line move slowly and hopeful faces tense with anticipation. Beside me, Meng Rong sat with her robes neatly arranged, her posture relaxed in a way that still felt slightly unreal to me.

  “So,” I asked, breaking the comfortable silence, “how did I do?”

  “Not bad, not bad at all,” she replied calmly. “My brother was very pleased with the outcome. Tax income went up immediately, and the city’s reputation improved thanks to your heroic victories.”

  I snorted softly. “Oh, the lord’s awake now?”

  “Yes,” she said. “I just woke him up. He was rather eager to talk with you.”

  I grimaced and leaned back on my hands. “Do I really need to?”

  She glanced sideways at me, her expression faintly amused. “That’s funny. Cultivators neither irritate nor bother you, but my brother does?”

  “Wow, keen observation,” I said, clicking my tongue. “But not really. If I had to explain it, I’m just not that good with authorities. Cultivators are one thing, but they’re mostly governed by a simple rule of who can hit harder.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “That’s a rather hurtful thing to say. So I’m just a brute to you?”

  I shrugged without hesitation. “Yeah.”

  She stared at me for a moment, then laughed softly. “So frank. I like that about you.”

  I turned my gaze back to the courtyard, watching another hopeful get escorted away in disappointment. “Well, don’t stop now,” I said casually. “You still need to help me find my way home, you know?”

  I watched the entire recruitment process from start to finish, and if I were being honest with myself, it was painfully boring.

  I had half expected some grand martial arts competition, flashy bouts, or at least a chance for these hopefuls to show off the techniques they’d trained their entire lives for. Instead, the reality was far colder. These high-and-mighty cultivators clearly had no interest in the martial arts of this domain. To them, such techniques were crude and inferior, barely worth a glance when compared to cultivation methods refined over generations.

  It was a little sad. I could hear the disappointment in the murmurs below, see it in the clenched fists of martial artists who had traveled far, hoping this would be their moment to shine. Their expectations were crushed without ceremony.

  The recruitment was split cleanly into two lines, one for the Phantasm Star Sect and the other for the Boulder Path Sect. If someone was accepted, they were ushered into the manor grounds to join the disciples already gathered there. If they were rejected, they were allowed to try their luck in the other line, even after being explicitly told not to get their hopes up. Once both chances were exhausted, they were escorted off the premises.

  Some did not leave quietly.

  A few martial artists tried to force their way in, desperation driving them to foolish bravery. It never ended well. Watching them get subdued almost immediately felt less like justice and more like tragedy.

  I clicked my tongue and leaned back. “Hey, this selection process looks rough. Only three people got accepted into the Boulder Path Sect, and two into the Phantasm Star Sect. Half of them were locals who didn’t even know martial arts.”

  Meng Rong nodded calmly, her gaze fixed on the courtyard. “That’s always the case. Sects are very picky when recruiting disciples from other domains. Part of it is national pride, I suppose, but there’s a more important reason.”

  She paused, then continued with a teacher’s patience. “Spiritual roots. They’re generally divided into muddled, mixed, and pure. Those with muddled spiritual roots are often rejected outright. It’s not personal, but it isn’t worth the sect’s time. Improving a muddled root is extremely difficult and resource-intensive, while investing in someone with a better starting point yields far greater returns.”

  That made a depressing amount of sense.

  “In domains like this one,” she went on, “where the ambient qi is thin, it’s normal for people with muddled roots to vastly outnumber those with better ones. Still, people will do anything to be accepted into a sect.”

  She gestured subtly toward the crowd. “Look closely. Most of these applicants aren’t martial artists. There are scions of noble families, merchants, locals of Xincheng, and wanderers from all walks of life. Age, background, sexuality, upbringing… it doesn’t matter.”

  Her voice softened slightly. “The opportunity to cultivate in a safe environment, with proper guidance and resources, is so life-changing that people are willing to throw away everything for even a chance at immortality.”

  I watched another rejected applicant slump as he was escorted away, shoulders trembling, and felt a strange heaviness settle in my chest.

  Yeah. I could see why they were desperate.

  “Hey, so how’s Tao Yu doing?” I asked casually.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  I remembered recommending her back then, when Meng Rong had asked me for a way to appease the so-called Meteor Child. It felt like a long time ago, even though it really wasn’t.

  Meng Rong nodded. “I trust she’ll do well. Once the sects are done with this business, we’ll go check on them immediately.”

  So we stayed put and kept watch until the end, making sure nothing strange happened. The last thing we needed was disciples from both sects secretly colluding, sneaking out at night to dig up clues about the Meteor Child. Paranoia, maybe, but after everything that had happened, it felt justified.

  The recruitment dragged on for two full days before it finally concluded.

  By the end of it, the sects had gathered what they considered a decent number of disciples. I didn’t really have a frame of reference for what counted as “good” in the cultivation world, but judging from their expressions, they seemed satisfied.

  We escorted the new disciples to the main entrance with the Xincheng Constabulary standing by. It felt oddly ceremonial, like seeing off guests who had overstayed just enough to leave an impression.

  Yao Yazhu cupped his fists together and bowed. “I thank Xincheng for the generosity it has shown. Until next time.”

  Dong Li, on the other hand, didn’t bother with pleasantries. He simply grunted and left with his fellow disciples, his back stiff and unyielding.

  Yao Yazhu laughed awkwardly. “Please forgive him. He’s still sour about his defeat. He’s a very competitive person, so I hope you understand.”

  “It’s fine,” Meng Rong replied calmly. “I trust you won’t do anything drastic.”

  “My lips are sealed,” Yao Yazhu said smoothly. “The tales of the Meteor Child will remain just that, a tale. A very tall tale. Farewell.”

  With that, the Phantasm Star Sect departed as well.

  When they were gone, Meng Rong turned to me. “What do you think?”

  “About what?”

  “Any hidden schemes? Do you think they’re faking it?”

  I frowned, replaying everything in my head. “I don’t know. You’d have to ask them. But if I had to bet, I’d say they really mean it and are leaving for good. We didn’t give them any supplies or favors, right?”

  She nodded. “We used the excuse that our food storage was spoiled due to an earlier accident. Of course, it was a lie… but not unlike how we burned the granary.”

  She paused, then smiled faintly. “Oh my… this feeling. Lying feels kind of thrilling, doesn’t it?”

  I stared at her for a second. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

  “Perhaps.” She tilted her head. “Where to next?”

  I didn’t hesitate. “Pine Wind Book Hall.”

  On our way there, Tao Fang hurried up to me, his beard trembling with anticipation. “Senior! Can I see my granddaughter?”

  “We’re about to get her,” I replied. “She should be at Pine Wind Book Hall.”

  “Great!” His face lit up immediately.

  I turned to Meng Rong. “You don’t mind, right?”

  She shook her head. “No. Let’s go.”

  We arrived at Pine Wind Book Hall while it was still early. Even so, the signage was already closed, the place looking quiet and undisturbed from the outside. Once inside, Meng Rong led us past rows of shelves and into the deeper sections of the hall. With practiced ease, she adjusted several formations hidden among the bookcases, and a concealed passage revealed itself. Beyond it was an empty room that shouldn’t have existed.

  We stepped inside.

  Meng Rong snapped her fingers, and the library shimmered, transforming into a cozy and luxurious private room. Soft carpets spread beneath our feet, and warm light filled the space.

  At the center of it all was the Meteor Child, Xue Hai.

  She was laughing happily while Tao Yu clung to her back, holding imaginary reins. In this particular game of horsie, Xue Hai herself was the horsie.

  I immediately covered my face, overwhelmed by secondhand embarrassment. Tao Yu froze and stuttered, “T-there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation—”

  “TAO YU! I’M DISAPPOINTED IN YOU—”

  Tao Fang’s roar was cut off by an even sharper voice.

  “Forget any recommendation letter through me,” Meng Rong snapped coldly. “If you don’t have a good explanation, I will pluck your bones and use them to make medicine!”

  I frowned and muttered, “Wait, you actually do that?”

  “Shut up, Yakuza Man!” Meng Rong shot back. Then her tone shifted, becoming eerily calm. “No. Rather than you, I want to hear what you have to say, Xue Hai.”

  Tao Yu hurriedly helped Xue Hai up and adjusted her clothes, her face pale. “Hai’er, please tell Lady Meng that we were just playing.”

  Xue Hai tilted her head innocently and said, “She’s whipping me.”

  She even pointed at Tao Yu for emphasis.

  Tao Yu nearly collapsed. “W-wait! If you say that without any context, I’ll really get in trouble!”

  Xue Hai continued cheerfully, “I also eat grass.”

  Meng Rong’s composure shattered. “You fed her what?!”

  A look of pure defeat settled over Tao Yu’s face, as if her soul had already left her body.

  Xue Hai added one final line, her voice proud and sincere. “I’m a good horsie.”

  Tao Yu added nervously, “W-we’re just playing around, Lady Meng. You know… pretending to be a horse…”

  Xue Hai had already shaken off her earlier shyness. Her eyes sparkled as she clapped her hands and shouted, “Your turn! Be a good horsie!”

  Before anyone could stop her, Tao Yu sighed and dropped down on all fours. Xue Hai climbed onto her back, tugging her hair far too roughly for my comfort. “Yipee~!”

  I grimaced. That looked painful.

  Still, Tao Yu didn’t protest. She even made a half-hearted neigh and crawled around the room, playing along. Her ears, however, were burning red, and that told me everything I needed to know about how mortifying this was for her.

  Anyway…

  I summoned my bat from my inventory and swung it at Tao Fang’s head without hesitation, activating a special move.

  “Heavenly Punishment!”

  Tao Fang reacted instantly, parrying the strike, but the stun followed. His body froze mid-motion.

  Tao Yu gasped in shock, Xue Hai clinging to her back, but I didn’t stop there. Threads of Heaven-Silk Art shot out, wrapping around Tao Fang’s body… However, they were instantly severed by sharp, starlit sword strokes.

  The figure shimmered.

  The illusion peeled away like mist, revealing Yao Yazhu standing where Tao Fang had been.

  “How did you find out?” he asked calmly.

  “Left sleeve,” I answered without missing a beat. “Too pristine. It should’ve shown more wear. Also, the storage ring placement was too obvious, and you’re about a centimeter taller than Tao Fang.”

  After fighting Dong Li and dealing with clay dolls, I’d become paranoid about appearances. At this point, I trusted nothing that looked human until proven otherwise.

  Meng Rong added mercilessly, “Forgive him, Yakuza. Illusions aren’t really his forte.”

  Yao Yazhu clicked his tongue. “That hurts. We’re very proud of our illusion arts, you know? It’s just that today’s was rushed. I had little time to prepare. I actually made another illusion for the Chief Constable, but someone kept getting in my way.”

  Meng Rong’s gaze turned lethal. “Choose your words carefully. If I don’t like what I hear, I will kill you.”

  The air turned frigid.

  Tao Yu immediately hugged Xue Hai tightly, shielding her with her body. Above the spot where Tao Fang had stood, a massive fox manifested, spectral and overwhelming, its jaws hovering inches from Yao Yazhu’s head.

  Yao Yazhu laughed softly. “Hah~! Didn’t see that coming. A summoning spell layered with an illusion. You must’ve cast it the moment I appeared.”

  He shook his head. “My pride really is hurt that you saw through me so easily. I suppose this is my loss.”

  Then his smile thinned.

  “Still, I didn’t come here to please you, Lady Meng. I came prepared to die for the sake of the future. If I couldn’t secure the Meteor Child… then I must kill it. That simple.”

  I spat back angrily, “Simple? You’re talking about killing a child!”

  Yao Yazhu shook his head. “It’s never that simple. When the Meteor Child appears, the Star of Calamity follows. That prophecy predates my sect itself.”

  His eyes hardened.

  “I came here to break the destiny bound to that prophecy. If the Meteor Child dies, the Star of Calamity cannot rise. Cause and effect. It makes sense… doesn’t it?”