As the dust settled over Platform Three, the murmurs of the crowd turned into a chorus of bewildered cheers and hushed whispers. The clash had ended in a rare stalemate, leaving both Duō Yī and Duō Xuān sprawled on the ground, chests heaving, qi utterly spent. The energy among the clan members was electric, the air thick with awe and suspense.
But beneath the excitement lurked a troubling question: there were only three referrals to the White Crane Sect, yet four warriors had proven themselves worthy. How would the Duō Clan resolve this?
At the main platform, the elders gathered, their expressions torn between pride and frustration. Elder Lǐ, presiding in calm authority, cast his gaze across his peers. Around him, voices rose in low, sharp debates, each elder championing their favored candidate.
Elder Duō Jì, the strategist, broke through first, his tone firm and commanding."Xuān is the clear choice. His mastery of the sword speaks for itself—every strike deliberate, precise, unshaken. He represents the kind of talent the White Crane Sect respects. Sending him ensures our clan gains recognition."
Elder Duō Qīng scoffed lightly, folding his arms as his eyes narrowed."Precision is nothing without adaptability. Duō Yī has shown something far rarer—creativity. He manipulates qi with insight that even seasoned cultivators struggle to achieve. The Sect needs brilliance, not just a sharp blade."
Another elder, Duō Míng, nodded in agreement with Qīng."Duō Yī's methods reveal a mind that sees beyond tradition. Innovation is what keeps a clan alive through centuries. If we send him, he could very well outshine even Xuān in the long run."
But a third elder, Duō Kǎi, slammed his staff against the floor, his gruff voice cutting through the growing noise."Bah! Innovation is dangerous without discipline. Xuān's path is clear, straight as steel. He does not wander. He does not experiment with frivolities. A stable hand is what we need in the Sect, not a dreamer."
The murmurs in the arena mirrored the debate, rippling through the gathered crowd. Some cheered Xuān's name with conviction, others whispered of Yī's dazzling ingenuity. The atmosphere grew heavy, a storm of opinions threatening to split the unity of the clan.
At last, Elder Lǐ raised his hand. His face betrayed no preference, only solemn responsibility."Enough. Each of you has spoken. The time for words has passed—now we must decide."
He signaled for the vote. One by one, the elders raised their hands, the tally unfolding in tense silence. The numbers drew close, the air taut as a bowstring.
When the second-to-last elder voted, the count stood even. All eyes turned to the final elder, Duō Zhēn, who lingered in silence. His hand hovered in the air, his eyes flicking between the two exhausted figures still lying on the platform. The crowd held its breath. For a heartbeat, it seemed he might refuse to choose at all. Then, with a long exhale, he lowered his hand—casting it in favor of Xuān.
"Five to six," Elder Lǐ declared gravely. "The vote is decided."
The announcement spread like wildfire. Some clapped and cheered for Xuān's victory, but many voices in the stands rose in discontent. "What of Yī?" they murmured. "How could they ignore such brilliance?" The crowd fractured, admiration and dismay intermingling in waves of noise.
Elder Lǐ let the uproar build for a moment, then lifted his hand again. His voice rang clear, calm, and commanding, silencing the storm."Members of the Duō Clan, hear me. Three referrals were promised to the White Crane Sect, and three shall be sent. Today's decision stands as the will of the elders. Xuān shall go, and our clan will take pride in those chosen."
He paused, scanning the faces before him—the elation, the disappointment, the fiery debates whispered among the young disciples. Then his voice deepened, carrying weight and wisdom."Yet remember this: the Sect does not close its doors to those who dare to seek them. Though our clan grants only three official names, the path to the White Crane Sect remains open to all with courage and determination. Should any of you gain acceptance on your own strength, know this—the Duō Clan will claim you as kin, and stand behind you with pride."
A hush fell, followed by a murmur of hope. Those who had faltered in the tournament straightened with renewed resolve. Whispers of determination rippled through the crowd, as if Elder Lǐ's words had breathed new fire into their hearts.
And so, though the decision weighed heavy, the day did not end in despair. For the first time, the younger generation looked beyond the clan's narrow gates, toward the wider world.
---
Hours later, Duō Yī stirred, his eyes fluttering open to the dim glow of his family's quarters. A warm, familiar presence was at his side.
"Mother…?" he murmured.
There, seated with a gentle, relieved smile, was his mother, Duō Líng Mèi. Her hand rested lightly on his, her gaze filled with pride.
"Ah, you're awake." She beamed, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "You've done well, my son. Very well. You've made me, and the entire clan, so very proud."
Despite the lingering ache from the battle, Duō Yī felt a wave of comfort in her presence, a solace that erased the exhaustion of the day. "Thank you, Mother. But… I didn't get the referral. I couldn't win outright," he admitted, his voice filled with both frustration and a flicker of disappointment.
Her hand squeezed his gently, her expression unwavering. "Sometimes, the path to victory isn't always in a direct line, Yī. You've proven yourself to more than just me. You've shown the clan what true determination is." Her eyes sparkled with a hint of mystery. "And sometimes, when one door closes, another opens."
He blinked, curiosity stirring. She reached into the fold of her robes and withdrew a small envelope, which she placed into his hands. "Here," she said, her tone light but deliberate.
Duō Yī stared at the envelope, surprised. "What… what is this?"
She smiled. "It's a referral, one I acquired through… other channels. While the clan may have only three slots, that doesn't mean I couldn't arrange one myself."
His gaze darted from the envelope back to his mother, confusion mingling with awe. "But… how?"
A playful glint entered her eyes. "Let's just say that I still have connections. My family… has its own influences."
He opened his mouth to ask more, but she held up a hand, silencing him with a gentle smile. "All in good time, Yī. There's a reason I haven't spoken much of my family. When the moment is right, you'll learn everything."
With that, she rose, leaning over to plant a soft kiss on his forehead. "Rest well, my son. The days ahead will demand your full strength."
As she quietly left the room, Duō Yī remained still, a mixture of excitement and gratitude coursing through him. His mother's unexpected gift had reignited his purpose, and he knew what lay ahead.
He allowed himself a small, satisfied grin. "With that, the main goal is achieved." He sat up slowly, his eyes drifting toward the window, where the first rays of dawn began to brighten the horizon. "Only one more thing left to do."
With a final, determined look, his gaze drifted in the direction of the clan's pagoda. An unmistakable glint sparked in his eyes, and an almost mischievous grin spread across his face, a silent promise of what was yet to come.