The inner sect was bustling with life. Cultivators filled the wide stone pathways, moving with purpose. Some walked in groups, chatting and laughing, while others strode alone in silent concentration. Every disciple wore the Half-Phoenix crest embroidered on their robes—a phoenix mid-flight, fierce and imposing, with red and gold feathers trailing behind. The symbol felt alive, a reminder of the sect's strength and legacy.

Wu Meng trailed behind Lian Hua, wide-eyed, as his gaze darted from one scene to the next. He was drinking in everything, trying to make sense of this place. Nearby, disciples practiced sword techniques that sent arcs of flame slicing through the air. One particularly intense strike set a training dummy ablaze, splitting it clean in half. Wu Meng’s jaw dropped. Was this normal for them?

Just past the training grounds, he noticed a marketplace lining the path. Merchants haggled loudly over herbs of strange shapes and colors, their scents thick in the air. Wu Meng wrinkled his nose as he passed one stall, gagging as the pungent smell hit him. The vendor gave him a scornful look as if he’d just insulted a prized treasure. This place was a sensory overload, each sight and smell more bizarre than the last.

“Is this what cultivator life looks like?” Wu Meng muttered to himself, overwhelmed. “Swords that spit fire… herbs that smell like they’ve gone rancid… and everyone acting like it’s just another day?”

Lian Hua either didn’t notice his mumbling or didn’t care. She continued walking with an unbreakable focus, leading him through groups of disciples sparring in open courtyards. Wu Meng could feel curious glances following him, disciples sneaking looks and whispering among themselves. He was clearly out of place, and every gaze only made him feel more like an outsider.

They passed a courtyard where two senior cultivators were demonstrating techniques. Their moves were so fluid, each step almost a dance, yet every strike seemed to carry a power that made the air vibrate. Wu Meng stopped, momentarily mesmerized by the display. But his brief pause was cut short.

“Keep up,” Lian Hua ordered without even looking back, her voice sharp and cutting through the clamor around them.

“Right, sorry,” he mumbled, hurrying to keep pace. His curiosity was burning, but Lian Hua gave him no time to satisfy it.

As they walked deeper into the sect, the bustling noise of the training grounds and marketplace began to fade, replaced by a more solemn quiet. The stone pathway led them toward an imposing structure at the base of the volcano. It lacked the ornate detailing of the other buildings. Instead, it was all hard, unyielding stone, with a heavy atmosphere that seemed to press down on him as they approached.

The Disciplinary Hall loomed ahead, its doors massive and unwelcoming. Wu Meng’s heart pounded as they got closer. This place lacked the warmth of the rest of the sect. Even with the heat radiating from the volcano, the hall had an intimidating chill to it.

Lian Hua stopped in front of the doors, placed her hand against one, and pushed it open with ease. The doors creaked, the sound echoing in the silence beyond.

“Let’s go,” she said, stepping inside without hesitation.

Wu Meng followed, a nervous tingling running through him as they walked into the hall. The dimly lit interior was decorated with phoenix motifs carved into the stone walls. The air felt stifling, not from heat but from the weight of authority filling the room.

At the far end of the hall, behind a large desk, sat the Disciplinary Elder. His robes were decorated with crimson phoenix embroidery, and his sharp gaze immediately focused on Wu Meng, pinning him in place.

The doors shut behind them with a heavy thud.

The elder studied Wu Meng in silence, his gaze narrowing. Flames crackled in wall sconces, casting flickering shadows. Lian Hua stood beside Wu Meng, her posture respectful but tense.

“An outsider, found near our secret realm…” the elder said slowly, his voice low and dangerous. “And yet you claim to know nothing.”

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Wu Meng swallowed, nerves clawing at him. “I… I really don’t remember anything. I just woke up there.”

The elder’s gaze sharpened. “You expect me to believe you simply woke up, conveniently near one of the sect’s most sacred sites?”

“Yes!” Wu Meng blurted, feeling the desperation in his own voice. “I mean—no, I don’t expect you to believe me. But that’s what happened!”

The elder leaned forward, his expression stern. “Then answer this: where are you from?”

Wu Meng blinked, caught off guard. “From…?” He tried to remember, searching his mind for anything familiar, but came up empty. “I don’t know. I can’t remember.”

“Your name, then,” the elder pressed. “Who are you, and why were you so close to our forbidden grounds?”

Wu Meng hesitated, then sighed. “My name is Wu Meng. That’s all I know. I don’t remember anything about how I got there, or what this place is… or even who I am beyond that.”

The elder’s eyes narrowed. “Convenient, don’t you think?”

Wu Meng felt his frustration bubbling over. “No, it’s not convenient! It’s maddening!” He clenched his fists, his voice rising. “If I knew, I’d tell you! But I don’t. I just… don’t.”

The elder’s gaze held steady, as if searching for any sign of a lie. “If you know nothing, then how do you explain surviving near the secret realm’s barriers? Any ordinary person would have been turned to ash the moment they approached.”

“I… I can’t explain that either,” Wu Meng admitted, his voice dropping. “I don’t even know what a secret realm is, let alone why I didn’t die.”

“Convenient,” the elder repeated, his tone flat.

Wu Meng’s shoulders slumped. “You keep saying that, but it’s not like I planned this. I woke up, saw some weird creatures, met a mysterious figure and then got tied up and brought here. That’s all I know.”

The elder tapped his fingers against the armrest, his gaze unyielding. “A mysterious figure you say… we will have to inspect your claims. Your Qi meanwhile is… quite strange. I cannot sense a cultivation base from you, yet there is clearly a power hidden beneath the surface.”

Wu Meng looked back at him, blank. “Qi? Cultivation base? I don’t know what those mean.”

Lian Hua spoke up, her tone thoughtful. “He truly doesn’t seem to know. His reactions aren’t those of a trained cultivator or a spy.”

The elder’s eyes flicked to her, then back to Wu Meng. “Ignorance does not absolve guilt,” he said coolly. “Whether you remember or not, your presence alone is condemnable.”

Wu Meng felt a wave of despair. “I’m not a threat! I don’t even know how to fight! You saw what happened with Lian Hua—I didn’t even try to resist.”

The elder leaned back, folding his arms. “Then what are you, Wu Meng? If it’s even your real name. A mortal? A cultivator? A spy? You expect us to believe that you simply wandered into our realm, a place no outsider could reach, by sheer chance?”

“I… I don’t know!” Wu Meng’s voice cracked. “I don’t know anything about myself! I didn’t ask for any of this.”

The silence between them was thick and tense, the elder’s gaze boring into him, looking for any hint of deception. Wu Meng had none to give. He was just as lost as he’d been when he’d woken up.

Finally, the elder let out a sigh, his gaze hardening. “The Half-Phoenix Sect has upheld its rules for centuries, and we don’t make exceptions,” he declared, his tone resolute. “No one trespasses near the secret realm without facing consequences. Ignorance, whether real or feigned, does not absolve you from the law of this sect.”

He straightened, his decision clear. “By the authority of the sect’s ancient laws, I hereby sentence you to five hundred years in the sect’s prison. This decision can’t be appeal unless you reveal your true identity and motives.”

Wu Meng’s heart skipped a beat. “Five… five hundred years? But I—”

“That is my judgment,” the elder stated firmly. “Take him away.”

Just as the guards moved forward, a smooth, commanding voice echoed through the chamber.

“Hold him for a few days until I come out. I’d like to see this boy myself.”

The voice, calm yet filled with authority, made Wu Meng’s eyes widen. He glanced around, trying to find the source, but no one else was there. The elder’s expression shifted immediately, his confidence faltering. Whoever that voice belonged to, it was clear he wouldn’t dare oppose it.

After a long pause, the elder nodded. “As you wish,” he murmured, reluctant but compliant.

He dismissed the guards, who backed away. The elder’s gaze lingered on Wu Meng, now filled with a mix of curiosity and caution.

“Take him to the cells,” he ordered. “We will await further instructions.”