At twelve, the Pavilion prepared for its annual Recognition Ceremony—a stage for Outer Disciples to display progress to the elders. Success meant promotion; failure could define or doom.
Xieyun stood among his classmates in the bright square, banners swaying above. Noble parents watched with breath held. Still mocked as "stone-faced" and "slow," Xieyun stood small and overlooked.
When his moment came, a hush fell. His wooden sword trembled softly as he bowed humbly. He began the standard kata—awkward, hesitant, each step drawing smirks.
Then, in one precise turn, his blade flashed, severing a falling lotus leaf in midair.
Gasps. The momentum broke; the leaf fell cracked. Xieyun stumbled immediately, his cheeks burning. Laughter resumed, but the whisper remained.
Elder Mo's eyes sharpened. Though Xieyun masked the skill as luck, the timing, the precision—too deliberate to be chance.
Mo raised his hand. "I nominate Feng Xieyun for provisional recognition."
Murmurs scattered. Under Pavilion code, each elder could nominate one, regardless of appearance. And so Xieyun was recognized.
The System chimed triumphantly:
> [Quest Complete: Pavilion Recognition Achieved.]
[Reward: Third Seal Unlocked — Mask of Thousand Faces.]
That night, Xieyun meditated on the new power: the ability to project false aura—even imitate rare bloodlines. With it, concealment was no longer passive—it was art.
---
But shadows still lingered. As Xieyun sealed his mask and closed his eyes, Elder Mo stood alone in the Pavilion's deepest archive. Before him rested an ancient jade tablet, its runes faint but luminous.
"The Bone has returned," he whispered, fingertips brushing the stone. "But… in the wrong hands."
The tablet pulsed faintly—its secret tied not just to the Lin Clan, but to something ancient, immemorial.
A ripple of destiny, hidden now. And only when Chapter Twelve unfolds will the full truth emerge.