Her eyes softened—just barely. "You do not have Elder Xuan's talent. You do not have his strength. But you do have something notable. Patience. Persistence. And flames that refuse to die."
The words pierced deeper than he wanted them to. He lowered his head, hoping she wouldn't notice the tremor in his hands.
Elder Qingya turned toward the crooked plaque of White Lotus Peak. Her voice, usually calm, wavered faintly. "This place was his heart. Even if the sect forgets, I cannot."
When she looked back, her gaze held him like iron. "Tomorrow, they will judge you not as Elder Xuan's successor, but as yourself. If White Lotus Peak is to stand, let it stand on your will."
Su Ming opened his mouth, but no words came. His throat tightened. Warmth was a foreign experience in his world, and it never stayed long.
Yet here she was—someone who cared, if only a little, if only because of his master—and it was enough to stir something inside him.
He bowed deeply, his voice low, almost hoarse. "Thank you, Elder. I… will not shame his legacy."
For a heartbeat, her gaze lingered. Then she gave the smallest nod. "Good."
And just like that, she turned and left, her plain robes vanishing into the mist.
Su Ming stood frozen long after she was gone. He wanted to laugh, to say something ridiculous to lighten the mood, to break the weight in his chest—but his eyes burned, and for once, he didn't fight it.
"…Damn it," he whispered, swiping at his face with his sleeve.
***
The next morning, mist rolled down White Lotus Peak as Su Ming descended the stone steps. His plain white robes fluttered faintly in the breeze. He carried only the acting peak master's jade token and the cold steel sword at his waist.
By the time he reached the Heavenly Cloud Sect's grand plaza, the air itself seemed to tremble. Last-minute preparations for the Disciple Recruitment Ceremony were already in full swing.
The sight nearly stole his breath.
The Grand Recruitment Arena was carved into the mountainside, a scene befitting the heavens. A colossal jade platform floated at its center, upon which sat the Sect Leader's throne—empty for now, draped in gold and white banners. Beneath it, nine thrones curved in a semi-circle, each reserved for the Inner Peak Masters.
There were also seventy-two smaller seats stretched in rows, belonging to the Outer Peak Masters.
Around the arena, countless disciples gathered. The inner sect stood in neat, disciplined formations, sharp as blades, while the outer sect lingered at the edges, permitted only to observe.
Even Su Ming, with memories of two lifetimes, couldn't help but feel awed.
"Damn it," he muttered. "I really walked into a xianxia novel."
And yet, as he moved through the crowd, whispers chased him like shadows.
"Is that him? White Lotus Peak's… acting master?"
"Hah, more like caretaker. Can't even reach Core Formation, I heard."
"Poor Elder Xuan. To think his peak ended like this."
"Shhh, don't mock him too loudly."
Su Ming kept his expression calm, though inside he wanted to smack those disciples across the back of the head.
He walked steadily—not soaring grandly like the other elders, not wrapped in dazzling qi like the geniuses. Just one step at a time, almost unnoticed, until he reached the seat reserved for the master of White Lotus Peak.
As a Foundation Establishment cultivator, he could have flown on a sword. But thanks to his generous Master Xuan, he didn't own one. Nor did he have a storage ring.
Imagine that—the protagonist of a cultivation novel, and not even a storage ring.
So, he walked.
A seat remained empty beside Elder Qingya of Azure Bamboo Peak. Su Ming approached, bowing lightly before her. Instead of sitting, he stood behind the chair—straight-backed, not claiming what was not yet his.
Elder Qingya's sharp eyes flicked toward him. For the briefest moment, her serene mask cracked, a faint glimmer of approval surfacing.
"You've grown, Su Ming."
He bowed again, voice steady. "This disciple greets Elder."
Her disciple, a proud young woman in green, sneered at him, unimpressed. Qingya, however, said nothing more—her silence carried both aloofness and subtle concern.
Afterward, he bowed to the other peak masters as they arrived. His movements were measured, respectful—not ostentatious, but deliberate enough to be acknowledged. Then, with his hands clasped behind his back, he settled into quiet observation, eyes sweeping across the sea of disciples and recruits below.
The skies above the grand plaza darkened, shadows stretching as a colossal flying boat descended from the clouds. Its hull gleamed like polished jade, inscribed with flowing golden dragon runes that pulsed in harmony with heaven and earth. The sheer aura of the vessel pressed upon the gathered crowd, and silence swept across the square.
There stood Sect Master Jun, draped in silver and azure, his robes flowing like storm clouds. His gaze was calm yet fathomless, carrying the weight of a thousand storms. Even without a word, his presence commanded reverence.
Two of his personal disciples followed at his side.
The sound of a bell reverberated. An elder in ceremonial robes stepped forward.
"By decree of the Heavenly Cloud Sect, the final stage of the Disciple Recruitment Ceremony begins!"
"Over the past month, over ten thousand children have been tested. Now, the remaining thousand stand before you—the chosen few, each bearing rare talent, worthy to be handpicked by our honored elders!"
A cheer rose, echoing against the mountain walls.
Su Ming folded his arms. "So these are the elites, huh?"
Names were called one by one, and children stepped forward. Peak Masters raised their hands, marking their interest. The process was elegant, efficient—children of talent and potential snapped up like treasures.
Then came the stir in the crowd.
"Lin Yuying"
A girl stepped forward, her presence chilling the air like a frost-laden breeze. Even from a distance, her posture was impeccable, every movement precise, every glance sharp. Su Ming felt the subtle weight of extraordinary talent radiating from her.
Whispers spread quickly among the disciples.
"That's Princess Lin Yuying of the Lin Clan… her family's prestige rivals half the northern territories…"
"…She awakened a rare bloodline, it seems, at an unusually young age… her potential is said to surpass even seasoned inner disciples…"
"…No question, the Sect Master himself will recruit her. Everyone's waiting to see the formal acknowledgment."
Curiosity pricked him. Extending his perception, he activated his essence sight. Instantly, the flow of information in the arena struck Su Ming like a crashing wave. Dozens of prodigies, elders, and disciples pulsed around him—but one stream stood out, cold and brilliant, impossible to ignore.
He forced his focus, isolating it. The noise of the crowd dimmed. There it was: a soft, icy blue glow emanating from the girl, pure and intense. As he concentrated further, a vision coalesced in his mind—a Frost Phoenix, wings unfurling in shimmering ice, talons gleaming with frozen light.
Su Ming's brow arched. So this is why everyone's watching…
The girl was not just a prodigy; she carried a heavenly bloodline. Her potential already radiated crazily. The Frost Phoenix Bloodline promised potential far beyond ordinary cultivators.
For a moment, Su Ming studied her silently, noting each pulse of aura, every flicker of potential. The whispers of the hall faded; all that existed was the faint, luminous echo of a frozen sun. Her bloodline was only partially awakened, yet already the entire sect's eyes were on her.
A sudden hush fell over the hall, and all eyes turned upward. From above, the revered Sect Leader began his descent from his floating throne, bathed in soft azure light. The throne itself hovered gracefully as he lowered, robes of deep azure and silver trailing behind him, embroidered with cloud and lightning motifs that shimmered in the lantern light.
His presence radiated calm authority, commanding attention without a single gesture. Every eye followed his descent, from the peak masters to the gathered prodigies, and sensed his presence.
As his feet touched the ground gently, Sect Leader Jun's gaze swept across the assembly, sharp yet kind. A faint smile curved his lips, and his voice rang clear.
"Child, you have shown promise beyond your years. Would you be willing to be my personal disciple and join the Heavenly Cloud Sect? To inherit its legacy, and cultivate in harmony with its teachings?"
The girl bowed gracefully. "This disciple is willing," she replied—calm, composed, resolute.
As Lin Yuying, the Frost Phoenix girl, was escorted to her new peak, the hall buzzed with whispered admiration. Su Ming folded his arms, letting the spectacle wash over him. Around him, dozens of other disciples were being taken by their respective elders—some talented, some merely lucky enough to catch an elder's eye.
He observed silently, noting their auras and potential. Most were already recognized prodigies; only a handful had the potential to truly leave a mark.
But reality was clear. Every elder's gaze was locked on the brightest prospects. Su Ming's essence vision had flagged more than a dozen candidates with good potential —but each time, one elder or another already claimed them.