The morning sun bathed Sunflower Town in gold, and the streets buzzed with unusual excitement. Word had spread across every stall and courtyard: the Starveil Sword Sect was recruiting. For most, it was nothing but a story to gossip over. But for a handful of youths, it was the first step onto a path that could change their lives forever.
At the Lin family inn, breakfast chatter filled the hall. Old men sat by the window, sipping their morning tea, while women bargained loudly with the cook over dumplings. When Lin Feng stepped out, dressed in his travel robe, the air turned lively.
"Look at him," one of the elders chuckled. "Young Lin Feng, off to chase immortals. Don't forget us when you're famous!"
"Hah! He should first survive those tests. My knees still ache from when I tried, thirty years ago!" another replied, slapping his thigh.
"Bah, you never even made it past the first trial!"
The room filled with laughter. It wasn't reverence, but warmth—the kind of teasing only neighbors who had watched him grow could give.
From the side, his mother tightened the clasp of his robe again, muttering as though all this noise wasn't happening. His sister leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying to hide the way her eyes followed every movement.
Feng met their gazes in turn, smiling faintly. "Don't worry. I'll make the city proud."
The banter around him quieted, replaced by nods and murmurs of approval.
Soon after, the Lin family accompanied him to the City Lord's Mansion, where the true departure was gathering.
The mansion gates stood tall, banners of the Qiao family fluttering in the breeze. Guards in polished armor lined the courtyard, and servants bustled about preparing the entourage. The difference between the Lin family's inn and this sprawling estate was like earth and sky.
At the center stood Qiao Wen, clad in travel robes of rich weave. His father, the City Lord Qiao, towered beside him. Though his presence was commanding, there was no harshness in his tone as he looked upon the two youths.
"You both know what lies ahead," he said, voice steady and measured. "Go forward without fear. Do not shame yourselves—or the town that raised you."
"Yes, Father," Wen replied with a bow.
Feng answered as well, just as firm: "Yes, City Lord."
The City Lord gave a single approving nod, his expression unchanged but his eyes steady on both of them.
It was then his gaze shifted—to the side, where John lounged against a carriage wheel, biting into an apple as if none of this ceremony concerned him.
"Sir John," the City Lord said. "You've guided these youths. Will you also be traveling with us to the sect?"
John shrugged, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Yeah. I've always wanted to see what all the fuss is about."
The City Lord studied him a moment longer, then gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. With a raised hand, he signaled the carriages forward.
The entourage rolled out of Sunflower Town, wheels crunching against the stone road. People lined the streets, waving, cheering, and tossing blessings into the air. Lin Ruyin and Lin Xue stood among them, their hands raised high until the carriages were nothing but silhouettes against the rising sun.
The journey stretched long, and as evening shadows fell, the first glimpse of the Starveil Sword Sect appeared on the horizon.
Even the most boastful of the merchant sons fell silent.
The sect was no simple fortress. Its mountains rose like guardians from the earth, peaks arranged in the shape of a sprawling constellation. John tilted his head, eyes narrowing in faint recognition, as though the heavens themselves had left a mark upon the land.
And then, one mountain towered above all others—so high it seemed to pierce the very sky. Its peak vanished into the clouds, defying all sense of scale, as though the world itself bent around it.
The carriages halted at the sect gates. From within stepped a man in deep azure robes, hair streaked with silver yet his presence sharp as a blade.
"I am Elder Zhao," he announced, voice carrying effortlessly across the courtyard. "Outer elder of the Starveil Sword Sect. Those of you who seek entry, follow me. The trials await."
The City Lord placed a hand on each of their shoulders in turn. "Lin Feng. Wen. Remember—you represent Sunflower Town. Go forth with clear hearts."
Finally, his gaze returned to John. "There is an inn nearby. Will you accompany me there?"
John shook his head with a lazy smile. "No. I want to watch up close."
The City Lord frowned. "There are restrictions against outsiders—"
But before the words could finish, John was already gone.
High above the mountains, John sat cross-legged on the open air, apple in hand. Lanterns below flickered like fireflies as the crowd of hopefuls filed through the gates.
He grinned faintly, eyes glimmering with anticipation.
"This will be fun."