The week-long tournament, a spectacle of hope and bloodshed that had consumed Verdant Creek City, was over. The crowds had dispersed, the arenas were being dismantled, and the names of the victors were on the lips of every citizen.
On the morning after the final battle, a formal summons was delivered to the thirty-two most successful contestants. They were to gather in the central plaza at noon. Lei Man, having spent the night in a quiet inn solidifying his understanding of his battle with Chu Qinqing, arrived with the others.
He saw the familiar faces: Chu Qinqing, her expression as placid as ever, stood near the front, a clear leader among the group. The bladed sisters, Bai Chuxin and Bai Xinrou, stood together, their gazes sharp and wary. The wind-blade prodigy, Xi Rou, gave a slight, respectful nod in his and Chu Qinqing's direction. Even Li Bai, the staff wielder, and Su Yalin, the water cultivator, were there, their earlier defeats having been impressive enough to earn them a place. These were the elites, the survivors of a trial that had begun with over two thousand.
They stood in the empty plaza under the watchful eyes of Elder Jin and the other sect envoys. There was no fanfare, no grand ceremony.
"You have all proven your worth," Elder Jin said, his voice echoing in the quiet plaza. "Of the thirty-two of you, thirty have earned the right to enter the Red Cloud Sect as outer court disciples. You will be given a chance to walk the path of cultivation. Whether you succeed or fail is up to you."
His gaze then settled on Chu Qinqing and Lei Man, a new intensity in his eyes. "The two of you, as the finalists, have displayed a mastery that far exceeds your peers. You will bypass the outer court entirely and enter the sect as inner disciples, with access to the resources and tutelage befitting your talent."
A wave of envy and awe rippled through the other thirty disciples. The gap between an outer and inner disciple was as vast as the heavens and the earth.
"Now," Elder Jin said, his tone leaving no room for questions, "prepare yourselves. Your journey to the sect begins."
He raised his hand to the sky. He did not attack or gesture. He simply held it there. In response, a shadow began to fall over Verdant Creek City. It was a slow, creeping darkness that made the entire populace stop in their tracks and look up in fear.
The shadow was not a cloud.
Descending from the heavens with a silent, majestic grace was a creature of such impossible scale that it defied all comprehension. It was a bird, an albatross of some divine, gargantuan species. Its wingspan did not just block out the sun; it spanned the entire city, from the eastern walls to the western gates. Its feathers were a deep, shimmering crimson, the color of the sect itself, and its eyes were intelligent, golden orbs, each one the size of a small house.
It was not just a beast; it was a living, breathing territory. A spirit beast of a level so high it was beyond the understanding of anyone present.
The Crimson Albatross, as it was known, was the sect's grandest and most ancient mode of transport. It settled, its movements impossibly gentle for its size, its massive claws resting on the peaks of the mountains that flanked the city. Its great, feathered back, a vast, rolling plain of crimson, was now level with the plaza.
"Board," Elder Jin commanded simply.
A wide ramp of solid, red-gold Qi extended from the elder's platform to the beast's back. The thirty-two youths, their faces a mixture of terror and utter awe, walked up the ramp. Stepping onto the creature's back was like stepping into another world. The feathers were as soft as silk but as strong as steel cables, forming a stable, comfortable ground. The sheer scale was disorienting; they were standing on a creature so large that they could not see its edges, only a rolling landscape of red feathers under a sky now dominated by the curve of its immense neck.
Lei Man stood with the other disciples, feeling the gentle thrum of the spirit beast's life force beneath his feet. He looked back at Verdant Creek City, now just a small, toy-like collection of buildings from this new, impossible height. He thought of the Lei family, of Jiao, of the Mercenary Pavilion. It was a world of troubles he had just escaped, a life he had completely and irrevocably left behind.
Elder Jin and the other envoys were the last to board. With a silent command from the elder, the Crimson Albatross let out a single, soul-shaking cry, a sound that was not a screech but a deep, melodic horn that echoed through the heavens.
Then, with a powerful, world-bending downstroke of its colossal wings that sent a hurricane-force wind washing over the city below, it pushed off from the mountains.
The world fell away.
Lei Man and the other new disciples of the Red Cloud Sect were airborne, riding on the back of a living mountain as it soared into the endless blue sky, leaving the mortal world and all their old lives behind. The journey had begun.
The Crimson Albatross was a world unto itself. The journey to the Red Cloud Sect was long, a silent, majestic glide through an endless sea of clouds. Below them, the world was a distant, patchwork map of forests, rivers, and mountains. The air was thin, clean, and cold, carrying the scent of the heavens.
The thirty-two new disciples had settled into a new, unspoken social order. The thirty outer disciples formed a large, nervous cluster near the center of the beast's vast back. They spoke in hushed, excited whispers, their gazes a mixture of awe at their surroundings and wary respect for the two figures who kept to themselves.
Chu Qinqing stood alone near the creature's head, facing into the wind. Her deep violet hair, a color so rare and striking it seemed almost unnatural, was freed from its usual severe, pinned style for the journey. It flowed behind her in the high-altitude wind, a silken banner of otherworldly beauty. She was a statue of serene contemplation, an unapproachable genius already in a world of her own.
Lei Man had found his own spot a good distance away, near the edge of a massive wing. The flight was long and, for the first time in weeks, utterly devoid of threats or deadlines. He was, for a moment, simply a passenger.
He reached into his spatial ring, retrieving a small, oil-paper-wrapped package. He opened it, and the sweet, fragrant aroma of freshly made osmanthus cakes wafted into the clean air. He took a bite, the sweet, floral taste a pleasant and grounding sensation.
He was so focused on the simple act that he didn't notice the approach at first. He only looked up when a shadow fell over him.
It was Chu Qinqing.
She had moved from her solitary perch with the same silent grace she used in combat. She stood a few feet away, her hands clasped behind her back. But her perfect, placid composure was gone. The Unbreakable Sea, the genius who had faced down raging fire and unyielding steel without a flicker of emotion, had a tiny crack in her glacial facade. Her eyes were not on his face. They were fixed, with an unwavering, laser-like intensity, on the half-eaten osmanthus cake in his hand.
A slow, disbelieving smile touched Lei Man's lips. He finally understood. He had been so focused on her power, on the puzzle she presented, that he had failed to truly see her. Now, standing here, her guard completely down, her usually stern and focused features softened, her gaze drawn by a simple pastry. The severity was gone, revealing a youthful, almost cherubic softness underneath that was both disarming and unexpectedly captivating. For the first time, her purple hair flowed in the wind and her cherubic features attracted Lei Man's gaze.
He broke off a clean, uneaten piece from the package and held it out to her.
"You want some?"
Chu Qinqing's eyes flickered from the cake in his hand to the new one being offered. Her cheeks colored with a faint, almost imperceptible blush. She gave a small, almost painfully shy, series of two quick, sharp nods.
Nod. Nod.
He held the cake out, and she took it. Her movements, usually so fluid and grand, were now small and precise, as if she were handling a priceless, fragile artifact. She took a tiny, delicate bite.
A look of pure, blissful contentment washed over her features. The serene mask of the prodigy dissolved completely, replaced by the simple, unadulterated joy of someone tasting something delicious. She savored the bite for a long moment before taking another.
Lei Man watched, mesmerized. For the entire tournament, she had been a concept, a problem to be solved, a natural disaster to be weathered. Now, seeing her like this—the way the wind caught the strands of her violet hair, the way her stern face melted into something soft and innocent—he realized he wasn't analyzing a rival; he was simply looking at a girl.
They stood there in a comfortable, strange silence, the two most powerful disciples of their generation, their rivalry momentarily forgotten, replaced by a simple, shared appreciation for sweets.
The shared moment of confectionary peace was a strange, silent island in the vast sky. As Chu Qinqing finished the last crumb of her osmanthus cake, her placid, professional mask began to settle back into place. She gave Lei Man one last, tiny, grateful nod, the silent acknowledgment of a shared secret, and turned to glide back to her solitary perch at the head of the great albatross.
But this time, Lei Man didn't let the distance return.
He wrapped the remaining cakes, placed them carefully back in his spatial ring, and followed her. He moved with his own quiet grace, his footsteps making no sound on the crimson feathers. He walked across the vast, windswept expanse of the creature's back, the thirty outer disciples watching his every move with a mixture of awe and trepidation. They saw it as a confrontation, a continuation of the rivalry. They couldn't have been more wrong.
He came to a stop a respectful few feet from where she stood, the wind whipping at the edges of their robes, carrying their words away from any prying ears. She looked at him, a flicker of surprise in her otherwise calm eyes.
"Tell me about yourself," Lei Man said. The question was simple, direct, and completely unexpected. It wasn't about cultivation, or techniques, or the tournament. It was about her.
Chu Qinqing's gaze shifted, turning back towards the endless sea of clouds before them. The wind caught a strand of her deep violet hair, whipping it across her face. For a long moment, she was silent, the genius of the Azure River Clan seemingly at a loss for words.
"There is not much to talk about," she finally replied, her voice soft, almost carried away by the wind. "I have dedicated my life to the Dao of Water. I train. I meditate. I seek to understand the flow of the world. That is all."
It was a perfect, practiced answer. It was the answer of a prodigy, of an icon, of a clan's greatest hope. It was also, Lei Man sensed, a complete and utter lie. Or, at least, not the whole truth. He remembered the look in her eyes when she saw the cake, the brief, unguarded moment of simple, human longing.
"That's the story of Chu Qinqing, the genius of the Azure River Clan," he said, his voice equally quiet. "I want to know the story of the person who likes sweets."
Her shoulders tensed for a fraction of a second. She turned her head slightly, her violet eyes studying him with a new, sharp intensity. She was analyzing him again, but not as an opponent. She was trying to understand his motive.
"Why do you ask?" she said, her voice laced with a caution that belied her immense power.
"Because I'm not who they think I am, either," Lei Man confessed, the words coming to him unbidden. "Lei Man, the Untouchable Ghost... he didn't exist a few months ago." It was a reckless admission, a dangerous piece of the truth, but in that moment, high above the world, speaking to the only other person who felt as alien as he did, it felt right.
He didn't elaborate. He didn't need to. He saw a flicker of understanding in her eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the masks they both wore.
She turned her gaze back to the horizon. "My favorite," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "are candied hawthorns. The ones with the hard, clear sugar shell that cracks when you bite into it."
It wasn't an answer to his question, not directly. But it was a beginning. It was a tiny, carefully offered piece of the truth, a secret shared in the quiet roar of the wind, a thousand miles above the earth.
Lei Man stood beside her, not speaking, simply sharing the silence and the view. They were two impossible secrets, two anomalies, standing together on the back of a living mountain, soaring towards a new life in the Red Cloud Sect. The rivalry was still there, a sharp, unspoken thing between them. But now, it was accompanied by a fragile, tentative thread of something else entirely. Understanding.