When the courtyard had filled up, two guards took the forefront.

“Attention towards Peak Elder, Yi Yang,” the right guard said, gently arching his hand to gather eyes.

An elegant and well decorated man arrived from the top of the steps leading to Xing Xing Pavilion. Even from a distance, Fu Ran could see that the man's face had aged, but his handsome features remained unchanged. Years of practicing and honing his cultivation had given him a youthful look about him, even now. His long and dark hair fell down past shoulders, and not a single strand was out of place.

As long as Fu Ran had known him, his hair was a middle toned gray, but mostly appeared black. Only in certain bright lighting, like today, could it really be mistaken for anything other than a deep inky color. His attire matched his status, and the solid blacks and golds made him seem a cut above the regular An Xian Yun Peak Masters, he was poised and held an air of authority. This was the Peak Elder Yi Yang.

When Yi Yang took the stage his presence alone commanded attentiveness. His boots were heavy on the white stone observation balcony. Any chatter or snickering that had been taking place prior, ceased immediately. A mighty black blade with molded golden details was presented in front of him. He rested upon it, as if it were a cane. Yi Yang’s gaze trailed over the young audience with a respectful and inquisitive silence.

"Young blossoms of youth, potential, and endless possibility… An Xian Yun Peak Welcomes you. As per our yearly cultivation exams, those qualified will be able to enter and join in study here on our mountain sect. The many Peak Masters present will be watching you and judging your actions. Each one is more than qualified to make your life here one of great value.

“Should you show prowess, you may stand where they do one day.

“So today, show your best face before your teachers, as they will be watching you. And let this one event not be where your efforts are laid to rest. As you train here, even more eyes will be upon you. This mountain where your feet lie, is the most well known sect in the entire nation, and you will be carrying it on your backs."

Yi Yang, after finishing his speech, lowered himself to a seat between his two guards. His face seemed polite, but Fu Ran never knew what he was really thinking. The same deceptive smile rested on his face as usual.

The guards made motions for the disciples to follow them further into the sect building. Fu Ran kept a respectful air about him until the crowd of children had vanished from sight past the Peak Elder.

This was all for show anyways. Now it's up to the disciples to preform their duties, and should their hunts go well, pick their masters.

Fu Ran sighed and slumped. “Then, if that is all. I will return to Xingti Pavilion,” Fu Ran said, bringing his sleeves up in front of his face and locking them in a bow. His eyes still showed a hint of his dazed tiredness from earlier. "I'll be back when they are finished." Fu Ran waved his hand and started to leave.

As he took a step to leave, a more playful voice stopped him. "Haha, does this sleepy princess not know what kind of event is going on today?" The voice was softer than Zhi Lao's, largely by comparison, and only one person ever called him by the horrid nickname of, “princess.” Fu Ran’s second sweet martial brother, Shesui Lang, stood before him with a wide grin on his lips. His words and expression showed hints of mockery.

“Good to see you, Shixiong.” Fu Ran brought his sleeve higher to cover his face and ease his act of feigning calmness. It had been a full year since he last laid eyes upon Shesui Lang, as his seclusion caused him to stop venturing into Xing Xing Pavilion’s library and records hall. Well, it wasn’t just the library that he chose to avoid, he didn’t visit the main sect building at all. Fu Ran remained far from everyone else, and he stayed hidden away in Xingti Pavilion, which was outside of the tall walls of An Xian Yun Peak.

Shesui Lang was dressed to the nines as always, still keeping those gaudy, and gold, hair accessories clipped into his high black ponytail. He was among the five or six Peak Masters that chose to wear bright bold colors, rather than the calm white colors of the sect.

Shesui Lang tilted his head, and his voice turned more accusing. “Oh? Good to see me, but you make no effort to say a measly hello in over a year.” His eyebrows furrowed together and he looked a little annoyed.

With no response, he let a long breath escape through his lips, and said, “You won’t be going back to sleep yet, sadly.”

“Oh? And why not She-xiong? I’m quite tired, you see.” Fu Ran playfully yawned, and tried putting on a sweet and innocent face. His simple act of playing cute was enough to change Shesui Lang’s face into that of a Zhi Lao level of glower!

“Don’t give me that! You don’t even understand the extent of today’s mission!” Before he could make any bold movements towards Fu Ran, Zhi Lao stepped between the two.

Zhi Lao dismissively waved away a hand towards Shesui Lang before he turned to Fu Ran to explain. "This year all of the masters will be joining the disciples. We aren't supposed to aid them, and only stay on standby."

"Stay on Standby? Why? Who made that decision? It sounds preposterous!" Fu Ran yelled. Every year, it would always be the same. The children would hunt down weaker creatures as a group. Given the power to make their own decisions, the entrance exam was to showcase capabilities and existing strengths. This testing format has worked flawlessly for over a decade, and Fu Ran couldn’t understand why Yi Yang would change his mind only now.

Fu Ran grimaced. "If the new disciples cannot handle low grade enemies in a controlled environment, how are they expected to complete missions?"

Shesui Lang chuckled "The Sleepy Master of Calamity must still be sleeping, really. Have you not heard anything at all? Zhi Lao should have told you about this weeks ago." His goal was evident. He wanted Fu Ran to spit up all the blood in his body!

His usual complexion was already pale enough, but anger drained away even more color from his face. Why, the minute he appears, does the rest of the sect lose the ability to act reasonable?

He hated that title, more than he disliked "princess."

"Shesui Shixiong, can we end this here?" Zhi Lao stopped his two brothers before things could get worse, by giving a near unnoticeable shove to Shesui Lang's shoulder. Zhi Lao then turned his head to look back at Fu Ran. His tiredness evident, Zhi La said, "We are venturing into the demon realm this time. There will not be “low grade” enemies."

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

"The demon realm? Why?" Fu Ran was shocked.

The demon realm was not frequently explored without good reason. The temperatures were high, and dry, and the lands were roamed by tainted monsters, and demonic cultivators. It's unlivable to anything else! Cultivators are paid to handle demonic issues in the rest of the world, and these missions serve as a primary form of income. Why travel to the source, when there are plenty of existing opportunities already?

"I do not know," Zhi Lao said, shrugging.

Fu Ran’s blood was boiling at the mention of sending fresh disciples into the demon realm. Even that was an incorrect statement, as they were yet even disciples at all! Fu Ran knew that his anger was best not given to Zhi Lao, or even Shesui Lang, but he couldn’t fight off the frustration shown on his body. His knuckles gripped onto his silvery blade so tightly that the skin over the bone turned white. “Who made this choice?” Fu Ran said, words coming out in a low growl.

"Kuwei Jun," Shesui Lang said simply.

Fu Ran did not know that name and merely looked at Shesui Lang incredulously. Crossing his arms, he said, “And who is that?”

"The new emperor," Zhi Lao said. His words were spoken like common sense, like it hadn't brought great shame upon his Shidi for not knowing.

Fu Ran’s face heated up when the eavesdropping cultivators began to chuckle. Fu Ran was quiet. The name must have been a popular one, and if those rumors were true, everyone in the country would surely know it by now. What a terrible Shizun, a terrible fortune teller, AND a terrible human being! But could he really be blamed for not keeping up with the news?

How could he know the name, when he had been bedridden for the last three years?

When he breathed out his whirling emotions, the only thing left was tiredness. “This is a horrid decision, really,” Fu Ran murmured. “Every time I look into the demon realm with Calamity Recall, the only thing I see is ruin.” He tucked his arms up against his chest, creating a small barrier away from the others around him.

“It's okay. All of the Peak Masters are going with the children, too. We won't let anything happen.” Shesui Lang’s tone was a bit softer now, returning to the sound of a proper older martial brother.

“Isn’t that more suspicious?” Fu Ran asked.

His hands were clammy against his cold white sword.

Shi Wei Ji.

That was the name of the precious blade held at his side. It brought him powers of foresight, but it also brought with it troubles. Had he been aware of the mental torment this weapon would unlock in his mind, he may have declined taking it. Shi Wei Ji focused on images of life and death, specifically his own, and showed him any dangers of an incoming future.

Shi Wei Ji began the months and months of visitation from the Peak Elder Yi Yang, since he was the one most adept at medicines. And with his new hyper awareness of life and death, Fu Ran started to believe in a thing he called, “inescapable fate.”

The demon world in his mind was filled with inescapable fate.

Zhi Lao tapped his shoulder, and only gave a simple: Let’s go. Fu Ran hadn’t even noticed the funneling of Peak Masters into the main sect building. They all passed by the Peak Elder and gave him bows of respect.

But his attention drew elsewhere to a lone disciple standing still in the middle of the bright white courtyard. He blended in shockingly well with pale robes and light ashen brown hair. The little boy seemed lost in thought, his eyes almost empty. Startlingly bright golden eyes stared at Fu Ran, and even followed him in his steps. How had he missed such an intense gaze?

Is he lost?

Fu Ran admittedly, was concerned for him.

He left Zhi Lao’s side to go get the lost boy, despite confused calling from his martial brother. Fu Ran's movements were watched like a hawk. Trying to put on a sweet air, and not frighten the small child, Fu Ran said gently, "This master can guide you."

He held out his hand and waited for a few moments. When the child didn’t take it immediately, Fu Ran furrowed his brow. The golden eyes were hard to read, and his expression left Fu Ran at a loss for words. “What’s your name?” he asked, hoping for some new reaction.

His answer came a touch later, like he was trying to think of the appropriate way to respond. It was only his name, so Fu Ran grew nervous that it didn’t come immediately.

"Wan Yu," the boy said blankly.

Fu Ran suddenly smiled, and sighed. "Good Good. A-Wan, follow this Shizun, okay?" He thought the boy too small to be a proper disciple, as he barely reached Fu Ran’s waist, and even more so when he had to raise his hand to take Fu Ran's. If he were to guess the little one's age, he would say six or seven at most. Wan Yu held some familiar properties that piqued Fu Ran’s interest, but he settled with delight at hearing the boy able to speak properly.

Wan Yu in hand, Fu Ran quickened his steps trying to catch up to Zhi Lao.

During the short rush, he was forced to pass by Yi Yang. Fu Ran's eyes widened when the seated man said a simple thing: His name, "Fu Ran."

"Yes, Peak Elder Yi Yang?" Fu Ran was fast to respond, as if instinct told him to be quick. Despite Yi Yang shuffling in his seat, he did not look at Fu Ran. He stared out over the courtyard lost in the view, his dark eyes glazed over with an intense sign of thought. He wore such a complex emotion on his face that Fu Ran couldn’t possibly understand what was going on in his mind. He never did. It might have been presumptuous of him to privy a guess, but Yi Yang looked… nervous?

"…"

"Yi Shibo?"

Upon the familiar call of his name, Yi Yang's eyes widened in shock. The slightest twinge of that nervousness grew worse, but instead of wearing it permanently, he smiled. A bead of sweat ran down the ripples of his mostly smooth skin. "...It is nothing," Yi Yang said, clearly dismissive. He hadn't turned his face to view Fu Ran once during this particular exchange.

Yi Yang never once had problems looking at me before, so why now did he mostly ignore my existence? Fu Ran mentally questioned, brows furrowed in annoyance.

Fu Ran left him with a, "Very well," and a polite bow. It wasn’t particularly like the elder to call out to him and then freeze up during a conversation. One could even call it unbecoming of a man in his position. Should he want something, he should merely be open about it, as he always had before.

While the Peak Elder paid him no mind, Fu Ran could tell that the gaze was unmistakably caught on the boy connected to his hand.

Fu Ran continued to walk, pulling the quiet boy along behind him. Before long, he and Wan Yu caught up with Zhi Lao and the other Peak Masters.

Shesui Lang was drawing up the teleportation array that they would use to enter the demon realm. It was drawn with perfect strokes, practiced and skilled penmanship was needed for this level of cleanliness.

When an array was used like this, to get far away from home, there was a necessity to have it be perfect. If precautions weren’t taken the location could be wrong. The thought of this was worrying, since the distance to travel today was quite great. It was possible to end up right near the destination, or 100 cities over in the middle of nowhere. This was especially true when of the potential locations, one of them was the demon realm.

Despite the sound of it, the demon realm was not impossibly far away. It took up the southern regions in the nation.

The main lobby here was packed with Masters and children of various ages. "Go on now, A-Wan. You may join your shixiong and shijie." Fu Ran gave soft brown locks a pat, but his words were not heeded. It seemed that Wan Yu didn't want to let go of his hand.

"Shizun?" Wan Yu said, only uttering words of a single title.

Fu Ran's body stiffened abruptly. Well yes... I did call myself Shizun, didn't I? He mentally panicked. I guess… It is fine to be a little indulgent. I still do not plan on taking disciples, so I can formally deny him at a later date in time.

He could tolerate the boy, but Fu Ran didn't care for the giggling of the other Masters behind him. It was clear that his rare appearance had become today’s entertainment. In order to focus on ignoring the gossip, he held tight to the child’s hand and waited for the array to be finished.

His gaze lingered as his martial brother worked tirelessly. The one thing Fu Ran couldn't deny, was that Shesui Lang was always the best at arrays or barriers.