“What does it mean to defy the Heavens?” the old man with the scar on his lip asked, standing right outside the gates of the luxurious Jade Lotus sect. It seemed he was recruiting, but Ming had a feeling that there was no way for him to enter. Ming didn’t mind starting from the bottom, but the fact that it was the same man Ming had asked for guidance earlier gave him pause. He had done right by Ming so far, directing him to the testing center.

That man had seemed genuine. Perhaps he should try?

He approached the man, bowing sincerely. “Honored Elder. This one would request your guidance once more.”

The man flashed a smile. “Unsurprising to see you here. Looking to join the Jade Lotus?”

“Yes, Honored Elder,” Ming replied, deciding to take the direct route. He knew he didn’t look like much, with his peasant clothes stolen from some random clothesline and his hair still tinged white, revealing that he had spent some of his lifeline. Nevertheless, he thought it suited him; he didn’t claim to be a powerful sage wandering around in ragged clothing, hiding a piece of precious jade in his robes, but he didn’t mind the association.

“Show me your mark.”

“Honored Elder Wang, this was the rating given to me by the test center.” Ming held out the blue Horizon-level rating. It was at this point Ming consciously noticed the attractive aura permeating the area around the man. Upon closer inspection, Ming could tell the man was somewhere in the Early Adept rank of the Thought Quickening realm. Ming blinked, and the enchantment rolled off him. He realized his mistake as it slipped through his hands like water—it was too weak, and he’d broken it too quickly: he had no way to replicate the effect. Suddenly Wang Qinyun was significantly less interesting. Ming wondered if what the man was doing could be considered an attack.

The man squinted, not seeming to notice what Ming had done, looking incredulous as he examined the marked piece of stone.“Horizon-grade? I knew you had potential, but this…” he paused, staring at Ming. “Truly?” His eyes sparkled, but Ming was not amused.

“Hope,” Ming thought, “Does this feel wrong to you?”

The tree sent the impression of a shrug. “It does feel a bit off.”

Ming snatched the rating stone back. “I apologize, Honored Elder. I don’t think I’d fit in at the Jade Lotus sect. I don’t know what I was thinking; I’m from a small village in the middle of nowhere.”

“Child, worry not,” Wang Qingyun said, reaching out his hand. “Cultivation is the great equalizer.” Ming said nothing, but he got the feeling that this was not really the case. Or, at least, it wasn’t the whole truth. He furrowed his brow. Perhaps he had realized his enchantment wasn’t working.

“Come inside. We’ll confirm the test,” he said, bowing.

Ming was already backing away. “Again, I apologize, Honored Elder!” he said, running off. As he slipped into an ally, he noticed a wagon full of what he presumed were slaves heading toward their gate. A wave of nausea hit him. The people of Minglao might have been cruel and dismissive, but at least they didn’t keep him in bondage. He’d look for another, less prestigious sect.

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Thirteen mid-level sects had outright refused to take him in when he showed them the Horizon-grade test result, telling him there was no room for a core disciple and that he should check back later. Their politeness only added to the sting of rejection.

I don’t care if I’m not a core disciple! Ming thought. I just want to find a sect.

It seemed like he was too good to be average, but not good enough to welcome unconditionally, or to risk the wrath of the sponsors they assumed he had by failing to provide for him. He was on the fourteenth, now, and he was beginning to feel hopeless. If this one didn’t let him, he’d have to try the low-level sects.

“Honored Junior Li Ming,” the young woman continued, “while you have shown much talent in order to procure this esteemed Horizon-grade assessment from the testing center, there’s unfortunately no room for one of your standing…”

Ming scowled. “I don’t care! Please, just treat me like an outer disciple. All I want is to enter a sect.”

The girl shook her head. “That would be improper.”

“I don’t mind.” Ming shuffled in place and looked around, then glanced at the sheet she was writing on. “Can you tell them I have Earthly-grade talent? Please?”

She looked up. “That would still be high for an outer disciple, but… it could work. I suppose if they didn’t know…”

She held her hand out.

Ming considered placing some spirit jerky in her hand, but decided that was likely to be taken as an insult. He didn’t have much else that he was willing to part with, except perhaps the beast core from the shark. Technically, his ring was unimportant when he had an entire realm at his fingertips, but it was necessary to keep up appearances, and still worth a fortune…

“Not worth it,” Hope agreed.

Ming walked off, ignoring the girl’s angered yells.

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It was when he found his way to the worst of the best sects in the city that his luck seemed to change.

Sitting on the edge of Xian, the sect was composed of sprawling silver edifices and bore a distinct aroma of jasmine. Even from the gate he could see a number of well-kept gardens, tended by eager students in gis and qipaos. It wasn’t glamorous, but the fact that they didn’t have slaves tending the gardens… it was something. Ming began to relax.

A girl who Ming assumed was a senior disciple and appeared to be in her early twenties came out to greet him.

“Qiu Yu of the Starlight Garden sect,” she said, tilting her head in a partial bow.

“Li Ming of Minglao Island,” Ming instinctively replied, returning her bow.

Ming decided to sate his curiosity; his mind cultivation washed over her soul, and her spirit cultivation shone like the sun. Her body cultivation was nonexistent, but her mind cultivation looked to be somewhere in the Adept Thought Quickening realm. He instinctually averted his gaze, but the blindness remained—he literally couldn’t see. He couldn’t tell exactly what her cultivation rank was, but she had to be somewhere in the Qi Gathering Master stage, at least. Ming gasped, stumbling back, a familiar feeling bubbling to the surface as his Resolve character tried desperately to resist the crippling fear enveloping his mind. She was a raging waterfall, no… a star in his vision, an inexorable heat. He averted his gaze.

“A Foundation-stage cultivator,” Hope noted. “I couldn’t get a read on her subrealm.”

“Foundation-stage? How?”

“Her qi has begun to solidify, forming the… well, foundation for her future core. She’s extraordinarily powerful. Most certainly not a student at this tiny sect, connected as they may be.”

A trickle of fear snuck into Ming’s heart.

“Are you alright?” she asked, and her voice sounded genuinely concerned. The fear dissipated. Mostly.

His sight slowly came back. “I-I… uh, sorry.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“Uh, nevermind. It was nothing.” Ming shook his head. “Are you looking for any new disciples?” His voice broke with the question, unfamiliar and high. Ming cringed. After spending so long in solitude, he’d forgotten his body’s true age, but the vast difference in power had reminded him. He felt like a child again.

“Well, we are…” the young woman began. “But you’re a little young…”

“I have an assessment from the Jade Stem Pagoda,” Ming replied, bowing.

“We don’t normally bother,” she said, “but if you already got one, let’s see it then.”

He handed her the stone.

Qiu Yu gasped. “Horizon-grade? This… this is absurd.” Her expression twisted, looking a bit crestfallen. “Unfortunately, the Starlight Garden sect takes no core disciples… at least, not formally.”

“I appreciate Honored Senior Qiu Yu’s generosity,” Ming said, “I assure you, the result is true.” He noticed her lips curl at those words, as if she had found them particularly interesting. “I’d prefer to be treated like a regular disciple anyway. I don’t suppose there’s a way we could keep this under wraps…”

Suspicion clouded her eyes. “And why’s that?”

Ming explained the high and high-mid-level sect’s lack of vacancies and political situation.

“I see,” she said, raising her eyebrows. “And you think your potential is significant enough as to make the political ramifications worth risking here? I mean, you may be right, but… it's rather presumptuous.”

“I tried to explain to them,” Ming said, shrugging. “I’m not affiliated with anyone around here.”

“Is that so?” she said, her eyes shifting around, as if looking for something. “And what of the highest echelon? Your talent is more than enough to join up as an inner... perhaps even a core disciple there.”

He made up an excuse for why he hadn’t joined one of the higher-level sects, saying he didn’t want to get involved with the politics of such a sect.

“That’s a lie,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Why would you lie?”

Hope laughed. “She clearly has some tricks.”

She turned the stone over in her hand. “It’s not an issue, Honored Junior Li Ming. If you’d tell the truth about that last bit, or at least tell me what you’re unwilling to reveal, I can guarantee entry, so long as the reason isn’t too egregiously terrible. And I’m sure you’d find a suitable mentor in the upcoming competition.”

Ming narrowed his eyes. This woman had some way to detect his lie. It had to be a mind technique. He flickered on both Mind Like Ice and Mind Like Water. His eyes raced with comprehension, gray flecks drifting through them like mercury.

His mind techniques instinctively flicked themselves off as his vision once again filled with all the light of a dying star. Ming fell to the ground, desperately trying to get his bearings.

“Boy, why would you amplify your perception? Did you forget?” Hope’s voice filtered into his mind, an unusual mix of annoyance and concern.

A flash of frustration raced through Ming. Idiot! he thought. He’d just been trying to see the technique, and he hadn’t thought about the ramifications of such an action. Something wet was dripping down his face, and the world was deathly quiet. It reminded him of the void he’d spent so long in. After about ten breaths, his vision returned, and his hearing with it.

“Ming?” A hand was on his face. The hand of a star, still burning so bright that its presence felt like a torch on his skin—the afterimage of a sight beyond words.

Ming once again stumbled back. He had a feeling his face was deathly pale, and he surely looked a mess. “Ah… sorry, I did something unwise,” he just said, looking her in the eyes. “Anyway, my lifespan has been cut short. That’s why the higher-level sects would surely not have been interested.” He only realized the double-meaning behind his first exclamation, connected loosely to the second, after he said it, but the implication didn’t seem to count as a lie, even though he didn't believe saving Hope had been unwise in the slightest. He wiped the blood that had dripped from his eyes off on his poorly constructed robes. He could vaguely sense her mind technique now, a hint of the infinite cosmos in her eyes, reaching out to tiny… strings? The strings of fate?

“Acceptable,” Qiu Yu said, pressing the stone back into his hands. “Welcome, Li Ming, to the Starlight Garden sect. We’ll get you some proper clothes.” She winked. “You’ve already met the Honored Matriarch, Qiu Yu.”

Hope cackled. “I like this one!”