With Zhang Lifen trailing behind him, He Yu headed back towards Shulin and then through the town proper. Shortly after they entered the central square, he heard a voice that set his teeth on edge.

“He Yu! You look like you’ve been out in the forest all day again. Still pretending to be a cultivator?”

Keeping his eyes forward, He Yu kept walking towards Dong Wei’s school. It lay on the far side of town and was impossible to miss. A broad single-story building that wrapped around a central courtyard, it was larger than any other structure in Shulin.

A slight girl about He Yu’s own age stepped in front of him. Although she was even smaller than he was, he froze.

“Sha Xiang,” he said, cupping a fist. “I need to see Master Dong Wei.”

Her features darkened, and He Yu immediately knew he’d made a mistake.

“What do you need to see Master for?” she demanded.

Sha Xiang was Dong Wei’s star pupil. What she was doing outside the school he couldn’t have said, but here she was, making his life miserable. Not as if that was anything new. She’d been doing the same since they were children.

“Lady Zhang wanted to see him,” He Yu said, gesturing to Zhang Lifen who had, so far, observed the exchange in silence. It was only then that He Yu noticed any trace that Zhang Lifen was an immortal had vanished.

“Lady Zhang?” Sha Xiang said, shifting her attention. “Well, you certainly look rich. Never seen you before though.”

He Yu’s blood went cold. Sha Xiang had always been a bully, and with her increasing cultivation under Dong Wei’s tutelage, she’d only become more insufferable. But no matter how strong she may think herself, Sha Xiang would be nothing before an immortal of the Fourth Realm.

Zhang Lifen inclined her head towards Sha Xiang. “And who might you be?” So far, the visiting immortal from the sect remained calm. He Yu could only hope she stayed that way.

“I am Sha Xiang, First Disciple of Master Dong Wei. What business do you have with him?” she demanded.

“I see,” Zhang Lifen replied. “Run along and fetch him for me then.”

Sha Xiang’s expression turned first to shock, then fury. He Yu froze, unsure of what to do. He’d seen enough of Sha Xiang’s temper over the years to have a fairly good idea of what was coming. If he stopped her, he’d be certain to pay for it later. But if she weren’t stopped, she would be sure to offend Zhang Lifen.

Although Zhang Lifen had seemed to be kind enough so far, He Yu still didn’t know how she would respond should someone truly insult her. Thankfully, Zhang Lifen responded first.

The temperature around them suddenly dropped, and the sensation of cool mist returned. It was stronger than it had been back in the clearing, but far from the sort of overwhelming pressure He Yu had come to expect from the stories. Sha Xiang, being a cultivator herself, immediately recognized what had happened.

“Apologies, Lady Zhang,” Sha Xiang said, bowing over a salute. “I did not know you were an immortal. I only sought to guard my master’s time. I will let him know of your arrival.”

“See that you do.” As Sha Xiang hurried off, Zhang Lifen turned to He Yu. “I take it you two know each other,” she said.

“She’s one of Dong Wei’s students. She likes to push people around. I don’t think she meant anything serious though,” He Yu said, forcing a laugh.

Zhang Lifen gave him an appraising look. “I see,” was all she said. “Come, then. We shouldn’t keep this master waiting.”

When they arrived at the school, Zhang Lifen strode up the steps and pushed open the double doors leading to the entryway without even the courtesy of announcing herself.

He Yu scampered up the steps and into the school behind her. He found Dong Wei already waiting for them. He was an older man, perhaps in his sixth decade, with pride to match his years.

“Honored Lady,” he said, pressing his fist into his palm in salute. Sha Xiang stood a few steps behind him. “What can this humble Master do for such an esteemed guest?” Then, his eyes fell on He Yu and his expression darkened.

Zhang Lifen smiled. “I’m here for the tournament, of course.”

“Tournament,” Master Dong Wei said, voice betraying some small measure of confusion.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

“Yes. Young He Yu here has told me you’ll be holding a tournament to select new students for your school. I’d love to attend, and see what talent Shulin has to offer.”

“I didn’t—” He Yu began. He’d said no such thing and desperately wanted to announce that fact.

“You dare speak before your betters?” Dong Wei interrupted, sending He Yu another glare.

He Yu clamped his mouth shut.

Dong Wei turned back to Zhang Lifen. “Of course! I would be honored to have a guest such as yourself in attendance,” he said, taking the news that he was to host a tournament in stride. “Do you have lodgings? My school is open to you, Honored Lady. Come, I’ll show you to rooms where you can stay until the tournament has concluded.”

As Dong Wei turned and retreated further into the school, Zhang Lifen shot He Yu a very unapologetic look. “Of course, it would be rude to refuse your hospitality, after all,” she said, not turning from He Yu. Then, she added, “I’ll see you at the tournament. I expect you’ll acquit yourself well.”

Sha Xiang shot one last sneer in He Yu’s direction before she followed the older cultivators into the school. For his part, He Yu couldn’t have left the school fast enough.

Once free of the school, He Yu hurried to his father’s forge across town. Shulin was a large enough settlement that the steady stream of folk needing metalwork done kept He Yu’s father busy most days.

His father was expecting him. “Yu’er. What’s this I hear about an immortal coming into town?” he asked, limping out from his inside the workshop.

He Gang was the town smith and a modest cultivator himself in the middle First Realm. While no fighter—the injury he’d taken to his leg during his apprenticeship had seen to that—he was gifted at using qi to enhance the creations of his forge. He was a stern man, but not an unkind one. He was the only reason He Yu knew anything about cultivation at all.

“Her name is Zhang Lifen, and she’s from the Shrouded Peaks Sect,” He Yu answered. “She’s sort of made Master Dong Wei host a tournament.”

He Gang’s normally stern expression darkened, but he didn’t seem angry with his son. “What is she doing here?”

“She didn’t say. Just that she was looking for the town and asked me to show her the way.”

“Where did you meet her?” he asked.

“In the forest just outside of town,” He Yu said. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” He Gang said. “Now what’s this you said about a tournament?”

He Yu looked away from his father before answering. It was foolish to feel guilty about it he knew, there wasn’t anything he could have done.

“Zhang Lifen told Master Dong Wei that I said there was going to be a tournament and that she wanted to watch. Then Master Dong Wei invited her inside and I came back here.”

A series of expressions crossed his father’s features then. First, a look of resignation, then amusement. Finally, the all-to-familiar serious set that He Yu was accustomed to. “Right, so you’ll be entering then?”

“I don’t know,” He Yu said, fidgeting a bit and still not looking directly at his father. “She said she’d see me there, but so will anyone else who’s awakened and I don’t have a chance.”

He Gang cuffed him on the ear. “Stop it,” he said. “How long do you have?”

He Yu looked up at his father, the blow having done its job, and pulled him out of his head. “Stop what?” he demanded. Then the question finally registered. “You want me to enter?”

He Gang had an odd relationship with He Yu’s cultivation. On the one hand, he was the only reason He Yu could practice at all. For his fifteenth birthday, He Gang had given him an old and worn cultivation manual, allowing him to awaken into the First Realm and begin his Way. He Gang had said these techniques were the basis for all further advancement, and that if He Yu wanted to practice, he needed to master them.

On the other hand, his father had also refused to teach him. Any time He Yu had come to him with his difficulties, He Gang had told him to consult the manual. The one time He Yu’s frustration at his difficulties had finally pushed him into one of his foul tempers, He Gang had finally explained.

Simply, his father had told him that he wasn’t qualified to give any guidance and that it was better he figure it out on his own, anyway. That had been the end of it.

“Are you saying you don’t want to?” his father asked.

He Yu started fidgeting again. “No,” he mumbled.

“Then what is it?”

“What if I lose?” he asked.

“Then you lose,” his father said simply.

“But I don’t want to lose.”

“So you’d rather not compete at all?”

There was something about the tone his father had taken, an accusation that cut through the words themselves, that gave He Yu pause. His first instinct had been to agree. A part of him would rather step aside, and let the more skilled youths compete for whatever prize the tournament would offer. It would be a grand one, worthy of the stories. Of that he was certain. The disciple from the Shrouded Peaks Sect wouldn’t have forced it upon Dong Wei otherwise.

Another part of him stirred, dissatisfied. Hadn’t he always wanted to be a cultivator? He hadn’t given up when Master Dong Wei had refused to teach him. Instead, he’d pestered his father and eventually received the manual that had allowed him to awaken into the First Realm.

He’d gone back to Dong Wei twice a year after that, when the school accepted new students, and had been rejected each time. So why should he give up now? To walk the Way was to challenge the will of heaven itself. Could he truly call himself a cultivator if he balked at this?

Furthermore, Zhang Lifen expected him to participate. Hadn’t she said he was no different in spirit than anyone else of the First Realm? That meant he had a chance. So he should take it, shouldn’t he?

He Yu looked up at his father, who’d been regarding him with that same look from before the whole time he’d been lost in his thoughts. “No,” he said.

With a nod, He Gang turned towards their home rather than back to the forge. “Well, we’ve got some time. She expects something of you. Best to be prepared.”

“How would you know that?” He Yu asked, following after his father.

“I was a disciple at her sect once, remember?”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” He Yu muttered. “How could I possibly do whatever she expects of me?”

He Gang chuckled. “The Shrouded Peaks Sect is a real sect. Not the excuse of a school that Dong Wei runs. Tests are never so straightforward.”

“Is that why you wouldn’t teach me anything?”

“Something like that,” He Gang said. “Come on, we need to prepare you for this tournament as best we can in what little time we have.”