Over the past two centuries, countless sects and clans had flourished and faded, but among them, two in particular had carved out a place of exceptional reverence....the Meilan Clan and the Yenlog Clan, both of which had now existed for nearly a hundred years. Yet, despite their rising prominence, the sect that had consistently held the highest seat of honor remained the Xuemo Sect.
Tragically, the once-esteemed Liuguang Sect had collapsed just a few years after the great war. But its legacy....its arts, its culture, and its traditions....remained preserved, held sacred within the heart of the Xuemo Sect. Though the grand structures of the Liuguang were lost to time, its spirit still lingered, residing quietly within the halls of Xuemo's great academy.
And now, today, a vast courtyard buzzed with the presence of new disciples, their robes crisp, their gazes curious. Among them stood the youngest generations of the Meilan and Yenluo Clans. Names like Joye Gun and Shu Bi Suan stood shoulder to shoulder, lined up with the others in perfect rows.
But the moment the Book of Rules was presented....thick, ancient, and intimidating....shu bi suan's eyes flew wide open. His jaw dropped.
A single panicked thought screamed in his mind:
"That's it. My soul is definitely going to leave my body and seek enlightenment elsewhere!"
And he wasn't alone. The same dread, the same exasperation crept into the minds of the others. Annoyance and fear mingled on every face as the sheer size of the rule book threatened to crush their enthusiasm.
But amidst the whispers, the groans, the panic.....one face remained utterly calm.
Still as windless water.
Eyes lowered, not in fear, but in thought.
A quiet composure radiated from his young, elegant face.....not the look of a novice, but of a man who already understood the weight of these rules, the depth of this sect.
That boy was Wang Gung.
And he was not the only one.
Two other faces mirrored his silence....still, unmoving, wordless.
As if struck by lightning.
As if the earth itself had swallowed their breath.
As if some mountain had collapsed upon their chests.
They were: Ming Heng... and Zhi Yao.