The tea in Silverpeak City tasted like dirt mixed with ambition.
Jin Wuya drank it anyway. He'd paid three copper coins for the cup, which was about two coins too many, but the tea house had a decent view of the main plaza. From his corner table, he could watch the disciples from the great sects parade around like peacocks who'd just discovered mirrors.
"Did you see? That's Zhou Ming from the Crimson Blade Hall!"
"I heard he broke through to the Master realm at only twenty-five."
"A Master at twenty-five? My cousin's friend said he sparred with an elder and lasted thirty exchanges!"
The whispers bounced around the tea house like excited sparrows. Wuya took another sip of terrible tea and watched Zhou Ming stride through the plaza, red robes catching the afternoon light. The crowd parted for him automatically.
*Thirty exchanges with an elder,* Wuya thought. *That either means the elder was being polite, or Zhou Ming's about to get humbled.*
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"
Wuya glanced up. A girl around his age stood there, wearing practical traveling clothes and carrying a small pack. Her eyes were sharp.
"It's a free country," Wuya said.
She sat down without ceremony. "Shen Liya. Merchant family."
"Jin Wuya."
She waited. When he didn't elaborate, she raised an eyebrow. "Just Jin Wuya? No sect?"
"Clearwater Sect."
Liya blinked. "Never heard of it."
"Most people haven't."
Before she could respond, a commotion erupted outside. The crowd scattered as someone crashed through a fruit stall, sending melons bouncing across the plaza. A young man in servant's clothes scrambled to his feet, blood running from his nose.
Three disciples in green robes stood over him, laughing.
"Clumsy bastard bumped into Senior Brother Wei," one of them said loudly.
"I didn't—" the servant started.
"You calling Senior Brother a liar?" The disciple kicked him. Not hard enough to seriously injure, but hard enough to humiliate. "Maybe you need a lesson in respect."
The plaza crowd watched with carefully blank expressions. The fruit seller, an old man with sun-weathered skin, stood frozen by his ruined stall.
Wuya sighed and set down his cup.
"You're not thinking of..." Liya started.
"The tea was terrible anyway." Wuya stood and walked toward the door.
"That's Emerald Peak Sect"
But Wuya was already outside, walking across the plaza with his hands in his sleeves. He didn't hurry. Just walked with steady purpose.
The disciple raised his foot for another kick.
"Hey," Wuya said.
The three disciples turned. The one doing the kicking - Senior Brother Wei - looked Wuya up and down. Plain gray robes. No sect emblem. Unremarkable sword.
"This doesn't concern you," Wei said. "Walk away."
"Can't do that," Wuya said.
Wei's smile turned ugly. "You've got some mouth for someone with no colors. What are you, a wandering beggar?"
"Probably stupid," Wuya admitted. "But the kid didn't bump into you. You stepped into his path on purpose."
The plaza went silent.
Wei's hand went to his sword. His qi flared, pressure rolling out like a wave. People in the crowd stumbled back.
Wuya didn't move. Didn't release any qi. Just stood there, looking at Wei with the kind of expression someone might use while watching paint dry.
"Last chance," Wei said. "Apologize and walk away."
"No."
Wei drew his sword and lunged.
His blade traced a perfect arc, qi coating it in faint green light. Fast. Direct.
Wuya took one step to the left.
The sword passed through empty air. Wei's eyes widened slightly, but he was already transitioning, bringing the blade down in a crushing overhead strike.
Wuya swayed backward. The sword missed by a hair's breadth.
Wei snarled and launched into a full combination, his two friends spreading out to flank. The crowd pressed back as qi-enhanced strikes carved through the space where Wuya had been. One strike. Two. Five. Ten.
None connected.
Wuya moved like water. He hadn't drawn his sword. Hadn't released any qi.
"STOP RUNNING!" Wei roared, sweat beading on his forehead.
"I'm not running," Wuya said. "I'm standing right here."
Wei's friends attacked from both sides.
Wuya stepped into the gap between their strikes and tapped Wei's wrist with two fingers.
Wei's sword clattered to the ground.
The plaza froze.
"You dropped your sword," Wuya said.
"Senior Brother Wei."
A new voice cut across the plaza. Everyone turned.
A man in green robes edged with silver walked toward them - an elder. Sharp eyes took in the scene instantly.
"Elder Shan," Wei stammered, dropping to one knee.
"Be quiet." Elder Shan's gaze fixed on Wuya. "You. What sect?"
"Clearwater Sect."
"Never heard of it." Elder Shan stepped closer. The pressure of his qi made the air heavy. "You humiliated my disciple without drawing your sword. That takes either skill or stupidity."
"Probably both," Wuya said.
A ghost of a smile crossed Elder Shan's face. Then it vanished. "My disciple was wrong. The servant may go." He gestured, and the young man scrambled away. "However, you've damaged Emerald Peak's face. Tomorrow, first match of the preliminary rounds - you will face our sect's representative."
Wuya could hear the trap. Random draws, except when they weren't.
"Alright," Wuya said.
Elder Shan's smile sharpened. "Good. I look forward to seeing what Clearwater Sect offers."
As the Emerald Peak disciples left, Wuya walked back to the tea house.
Liya stared at him. "You just picked a fight with a mid-tier sect before the Assembly even starts."
"Didn't pick it." Wuya sat down. His tea had gone cold. He drank it anyway.
"You didn't even use qi. How are you going to"
The tea house door slammed open. A young man in official robes stood there, breathless.
"Jin Wuya of Clearwater Sect?"
"That's me."
"Preliminary match draw has been posted. Tomorrow, first match." The official's face was pale. "You're fighting Yan Feng of Emerald Peak Sect.
The tea house went silent.
"What time?" Wuya asked.
"Dawn. Main arena."
"Alright."
The official left. Everyone stared at Wuya like he was already dead.
Wuya stood and dropped coins on the table. "Thanks for the company."
"You're going to die tomorrow," Liya said quietly.
Wuya paused in the doorway, glancing back with the faintest smile. "Maybe."
He stepped into the evening streets. The city was huge, unfamiliar. He'd never been anywhere like this. Elder Feng had given him directions to the Assembly grounds and enough silver for a few nights, but beyond that, Wuya was on his own.
He found a small inn tucked between a noodle shop and a medicine hall. Three silver coins got him a room and a suspicious look from the innkeeper.
The room was small but clean. Through thin walls, someone snored next door.
Wuya lay on the bed and stared at the ceiling. Somewhere in this city, Yan Feng was probably in a nicer room, surrounded by sect brothers, being told he'd crush the nobody from nowhere.
They were probably right.
But probably wasn't definitely.
Wuya closed his eyes.
Tomorrow would interesting