The path to the Jade Palace wound up a terraced mountainside, each level more serene than the bustling city below. The air grew cooler, scented with pine and the faint, clean smell of worked stone. The palace itself wasn't a single fortress, but a series of elegant, interconnected pavilions with roofs of pale green jade tile that seemed to drink the morning light. It was beautiful, but it had a cold, watchful feeling.
The outer grounds had been transformed into a temporary arena. A wide, circular stage of polished white stone stood at the center, surrounded by a sea of hopeful cultivators and their families. The buzz of nervous energy was palpable. Madame Su guided Gen and Liang through the crowd, her face a mask of calm purpose.
They learned the rules quickly from the chatter: a ten-Milky-Stone entry fee, followed by an "initial demonstration" in the arena—a duel against a current outer disciple. Pass, and you earned the right to take the real entrance exams inside.
"Ten stones?" Liang whispered, anxiety creasing his brow. It was a small fortune.
Madame Su's hand went to the last of their coins in her pouch. "We have enough for the fee... barely. But after that, we have nothing left for food or lodging while you train."
Gen, however, was focused on the stage where two cultivators were clumsily trading blows. "Fee? That's it? If the test is just beating up someone at our level, this will be easy."
His voice, clear and brimming with his old arrogance, cut through the local murmur. Heads turned. Glances of irritation and amusement landed on him. A bulky youth nearby cracked his knuckles pointedly but said nothing. They were all here to get in, not start fights in line.
The officiating elder stepped to the front of the stage. Gen's eyes narrowed. It was the broken-nosed Third Wheel cultivator from the inn the night before, the one who'd leered at Madame Su. Here, he wore the light grey and green robes of a Jade Palace elder. A smug, proprietary air hung about him.
Madame Su's posture stiffened. She approached the registration table at the stage's edge. "Two entrants," she said, her voice cool.
The elder, whose nameplate read Elder Kwan, looked up. A slow, unpleasant smile spread across his face as he recognized her. "The lovely traveler from the Ox. And her… spirited companions." His eyes roamed over her in a way that made Gen's fists clench. "The fee is ten stones each. Non-negotiable."
Madame Su counted out their last twenty stones, the small clinks sounding like the last drops of their security. She hesitated, then removed the simple silver bracelet from her wrist—the last gift from the Immortal. It gleamed with a soft, inner light, far purer than common Milky Stones. "This should cover their room and board for the first month inside," she said, placing it on the table. "As an advance."
A murmur went through the nearby crowd. The bracelet was obviously valuable, worth hundreds of stones.
Elder Kwan didn't even pick it up. He flicked it with a finger, sending it skittering back toward her. "We do not accept trinkets from a dead regime," he said loudly, his voice carrying. "Who knows what ill luck or divine attention it might draw? The Jade Palace deals in clean currency. Or other… arrangements."
The meaning was unmistakable. The crowd's murmur changed tone. Eyes that had been irritated at Gen now looked at them with dawning understanding, then pity or disdain. The dead Immortal's people. Beggars carrying cursed gold.
Madame Su's cheeks flushed, but she kept her composure. She retrieved the bracelet, her fingers trembling slightly. "Please, Elder. Reconsider. They are talented. They only need a chance—"
Gen could bear no more. "You greedy, broken-faced vulture!" he shouted, stepping forward. "That bracelet could buy this whole stupid stage! You're not refusing payment, you're just being a petty tyrant!"
Liang stood beside him, silent fury in his eyes. "He's right. Your logic is corrupt."
Elder Kwan's smile vanished. The smugness turned to cold anger. "You challenge the rules of my arena, boy? You, who couldn't protect your own capital?" He moved.
It wasn't a formal attack. It was a dismissive flick of his wrist, a concentrated bolt of Shidow energy—Manipulation used as a piercing needle. It was too fast, too casual for Gen to fully reinforce against.
Thwip.
The bolt struck Gen square in the chest, not with brute force, but with invasive, cutting precision. It punched through his robe and skin, drawing a spray of blood. Gen gasped, staggering back a step, hand clapping over the sudden, searing wound.
Madame Su cried out, her aura flaring. She stepped between Gen and the elder, energy crackling around her hands. "You dare?!"
Elder Kwan didn't look worried. "I dare uphold the dignity of the Jade Palace, woman. This is not your master's mountain anymore. Here, you are a supplicant. And supplicants do not raise their voices." His gaze was a challenge. Fight me, and see what happens.
The crowd was silent, watching the beautiful stranger face down the palace elder.
"Such a shame," a new voice cut through the tension, clear and melodious as a wind chime.
All eyes turned. A young woman had emerged from the palace gate and now stood at the edge of the stage. She was perhaps a year older than Gen, dressed in the inner disciple's robes of deeper jade green, edged with silver. Her beauty was not soft, but striking—high cheekbones, sharp intelligent eyes, and hair like a waterfall of night. The crowd seemed to collectively hold its breath.
Even Gen, pain forgotten for a second, stared. Liang elbowed him sharply in the ribs. "Your betrothed," he hissed through gritted teeth.
Gen winced, from the pain and the reminder. "Shut up," he muttered, his face heating.
The girl's gaze swept over Elder Kwan's smug face, Madame Su's defensive stance, and Gen clutching his bleeding chest. A flicker of disdain touched her lips. "It is a shame," she repeated, "to see a guest treated with such gracelessness, Elder Kwan. The Jade Palace is a school of opportunity, not extortion."
Elder Kwan's confidence wavered. "Disciple Li Fen, this is not your concern. These are the rules—"
"Rules can be satisfied in many ways," Li Fen interrupted, her voice leaving no room for argument. She looked at Madame Su, then at Gen and Liang. "Faceless Ting has a standing offer. If an applicant can demonstrate exceptional merit by defeating two of our current outer disciples—Yan and Yuan—in the arena, their fees are waived, and they earn direct placement in the inner courtyard."
A wave of shock and excitement rippled through the crowd. Defeat Yan and Yuan? The twin terrors of the outer disciples? It was a near-impossible task, a legend used to scare newcomers.
Li Fen's cool eyes met Gen's furious, pained ones. "The offer is for both of you. Together. Against the twins. Do you have the merit, or do you only have your father's name and your guardian's jewelry?"
The challenge hung in the air. The easy path was closed. Before them lay a near-suicidal gate, held open by a girl of breathtaking beauty and ice-cold judgment. The arena awaited, and somewhere within the silent palace, the mysterious, genderless master known only as Faceless Ting was watching.