The sun was just beginning to rise over the eastern mountains of Chang 'an as Song made his way to the Imperial Palace. He walked through the quiet streets of the capital city, taking in the sights and sounds around him. The smell of incense from the nearby temples mixed with the scent of freshly baked bread from the nearby markets. The sound of roosters crowing and carts rattling echoed through the narrow alleys. 

As he approached the palace gates, Song felt a sense of awe and reverence. The massive stone walls loomed over him, and he couldn't help but feel small and insignificant in their shadow. He knew that few people ever got the chance to enter these hallowed halls, and he was determined to make the most of the opportunity that had been granted to him. 

The Imperial Academy was in the heart of Taiji palace, and it was a sprawling complex of buildings and courtyards. Song made his way through the winding paths, admiring the intricate carvings and beautiful gardens that surrounded him. He had always loved the beauty of nature, and he found that being surrounded by it helped to calm his mind and focus his thoughts. 

As he entered his classroom, Song took a deep breath and prepared himself for another day of study. He was eager to learn all that he could, and he knew that the road ahead would be long and challenging. But he also knew that he was up to the task, and that he would do whatever it took to succeed to become a great scholar. 

As Song settled into his mat, he took in the familiar surroundings of his classroom. The room was large and airy, with tall windows that let in the early morning light. The walls were lined with bookshelves, filled with texts on everything from history and philosophy to mathematics and science. In the center of the room was a large, rectangular table, covered in books and scrolls. 

The scholars themselves were dressed in flowing, silk robes of varying shades of blue, depending on their level of study. Their heads were bent over their books, their hands scribbling notes with calligraphy brushes dipped in ink. Despite the hushed conversations that filled the room, the atmosphere was one of intense focus and concentration. 

Song took a moment to survey his fellow scholars. Some were older than him, with lines etched deeply into their faces from years of study. Others were younger, like him, with faces that still held a touch of youthful innocence. But they all shared the same determination and drive to succeed in their studies. 

As the teacher entered the room, the students quieted down and stood up and greeted him respectfully while gazing him with a tinge of worship. The teacher, a middle-aged man with a wispy beard and a calm demeanor, returned the greeting and settled onto his own mat at the front of the room. He was Wu Fei, the dean of the Imperial Academy and one of the most respected teachers. 

As teacher Wu began the day's lesson, Song's mind began to wander. He found himself staring out the window, watching as the morning mist lifted from the gardens outside. He couldn't help but feel a sense of restlessness, a feeling that there was more to life than just studying and memorizing texts. 

He glanced around the room at his fellow students, noting their earnest expressions and diligent notetaking. He admired their dedication but couldn't shake the feeling that there had to be more to life than just following the path that had been laid out for them. 

He turned his gaze back to the window and watched as a butterfly flitted past, its wings shimmering in the sunlight. For a moment, he felt a sense of envy towards the butterfly, free to roam the world and explore it without any constraints. 

But then he chided himself for such childish thoughts as he was a scholar-in-training, with a duty to serve his country and his people and help to bring prestige to his family. He couldn't just abandon his responsibilities and run off into the world like a carefree butterfly. 

As his teacher continued with the lesson, Song tried to focus on the words and absorb the knowledge. But his mind kept wandering, pulled towards memories of his childhood as he struggled to focus on the lesson ahead. 

He remembered those distant days where he played in the fields with his siblings, their laughter echoing through the air as they chased after each other. He had always been close to his family, and their support had been a constant source of strength for him. 

But those carefree days came to end when his father had passed away, killed by a group of bandits in the way to visiting his sworn brother Li of the White Lotus Pavilion merchant's group.  

His mother, determined to support her family, had scrimped and saved to send Song to the Imperial Palace to become a scholar. But it was thanks to brother Li who pulled out some strings to accept him. It was a great honor for their small family, and Song had thrown himself into his studies with a fierce determination to succeed. 

But now, as he sat in the classroom, he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to life than just fulfilling his duty as a scholar. He had always been curious about the world beyond the Palace walls, about the Jianghu that he had heard between whispers in inns or people of the capital. 

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He had inherited a few martial arts techniques from his father and had practiced them in secret when he could. But his mother had always been wary of his interest in martial arts and had urged him to focus on his studies instead. 

As he gazed out the window, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at his wandering thoughts. He knew that his mother had sacrificed so much to send him to the Palace, and he didn't want to let her down. But at the same time, he couldn't help but feel drawn to the mystery and adventure of the wider world beyond the Palace walls instead of the world of books and scrolls. 

As the class ended, Teacher Wu called out to Song. "Song Xinglong, please come here for a moment." 

Song felt a twinge of nervousness as he made his way to the front of the room. "Yes, Teacher Wu?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady. 

"I noticed that you were distracted during today's lesson," Teacher Wu said sternly. "It is important that you pay attention if you want to succeed as a scholar." 

"I'm sorry, Teacher Wu," Song said, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment. 

Teacher Wu's expression softened slightly. "I know that you have a lot on your mind, Song Xinglong. But you must learn to focus your thoughts if you wish to excel." 

"I understand, Teacher Wu," Song said, nodding his head. 

"Good," Teacher Wu said. "In order to help you improve your focus, I am assigning you to organize the books in the Heavenly Pavilion after class." 

Song felt a sinking feeling in his stomach at the thought of spending his afternoon in the stuffy library, surrounded by dusty tomes. But he knew better than to argue with his teacher. 

"Yes, Teacher Wu," he said, bowing his head in deference. 

"Good," Teacher Wu said, dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "You may go now, but I expect to see you in the Pavilion when classes end." 

Song nodded and quickly made his way out of the classroom, feeling a mix of shame and frustration. He had let his mind wander too much, and now he was paying the price. 

When he finished his classes, Song took a deep breath before heading towards the library. His steps were slow and heavy with each passing moment. As he walked the corridors, he noticed the other students looking at him with a mixture of curiosity and pity. He tried to ignore their stares and kept walking towards his destination. 

The library was found at the top of a hill, in a secluded corner of the academy. The surrounding area was lush and green, with blooming cherry blossom trees and winding paths leading up to the pavilion. The sun was high in the sky as Song made his way up the winding path. He could feel his stomach rumbling with hunger, but he had to finish his punishment first. 

The path took almost twenty minutes to navigate, but finally, Song arrived. The pavilion itself was an elegant wooden structure, with a curved roof and intricate carvings on the pillars, fitted to be one of the Imperial libraries. It was perched on the edge of the hill, overlooking the academy and the surrounding landscape.  

Soon he noticed Teacher Wu speaking with an old man with a long white beard. It was librarian Ye, the one who managed the Heavenly pavilion. Teacher Wu noticed Song and approached him. 

"Song Xinglong, this is Ye, our librarian. He will be overseeing your punishment today. Do as he says," Teacher Wu instructed before bidding them farewell and walking away. Song bowed respectfully to Teacher Wu before turning his attention to librarian Ye. 

 He was a thin, elderly man with a kind face and a warm smile. He had long white beard that flowed down to his chest, and his hair was pulled back into a neat bun. His skin was weathered and lined, and his eyes sparkled with intelligence and wisdom. He wore a simple, yet elegant, robe made of fine silk, dyed in shades of pale blue and green that matched the colors of the surrounding gardens. The robe was adorned with intricate embroidery that depicted blooming flowers and swirling clouds, giving the impression of a peaceful sky. Around his waist, he wore a sash of darker blue that held his robe in place, and on his feet, he wore soft-soled shoes made of woven straw. Despite his age, librarian Ye moved with a quiet grace and energy, as if he was still filled with the vitality of youth.  

As Song followed librarian Ye inside the Heavenly Pavilion, he couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and respect for the man. Ye moved with a gentle grace, his long robes swishing softly with each step. His hair and beard were white as snow, and his kind face was etched with deep lines, evidence of a life well-lived. 

Turning his attention to the insides of the library, Song was struck by the beauty of the space. The interior was spacious and airy, with high ceilings and tall bookshelves lining the walls. The shelves were made of dark wood, polished to a high shine, and filled with books of all sizes, colors, and subjects. 

The sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a warm glow on the wooden floors. The air was filled with the scent of parchment and ink, and the sound of turning pages echoed softly throughout the room. 

The reading area was located in the center of the room, surrounded by bookshelves on all sides. The area was furnished with comfortable chairs and tables, with oil lamps supplying a warm inviting glow. The tables were scattered with writing utensils and parchment, evidence of students who came here to study and ponder. 

In the far corner of the room, there was a small alcove with a low table and cushions, where students could sit and read in quiet contemplation. The walls of the alcove were lined with paintings and calligraphy, depicting scenes of ancient battles and landscapes. 

Librarian Ye showed Song the area he was to clean, a corner filled with books in disarray. Song soon began to work, carefully dusting off the covers and organizing them in alphabetical order. Ye watched him with a keen eye, before mentioning that he has work to do and left.  

As Song continued to monotonously clean and organize the books, he stumbled upon a worn-out manuscript with peculiar title: "The heavenly Dao". Maybe it was because he was bored of all the monotonous work or because it was a peculiar looking book but for some reason or other, he ended opening it, and what he found in it marked the beginning of his path.