The door swung open with a resounding crack, sending a ripple through the still air of the room.

Tian Shou stood there, his brows drawn tight, eyes dark with barely restrained anger. His usual calm authority was shattered, replaced by an aura that seemed to crackle with an electric charge, rippling through the room. The air felt heavy, pressing down on everyone, each breath harder to draw, laden with the unmistakable weight of his judgment.

He surveyed the scene: Tian Hao sprawled among cushions, Lin Mei's face flushed from laughter, Jiuwei perched innocently on the table. The remnants of a less-than-serious training session were scattered about.

“What in the name of the Celestial Heavens is the meaning of this?!” he boomed.

His voice echoed through the room, each word a hammer blow against the remnants of their laughter.

Tian Hao pushed himself upright, the carefree smile fading from his face. Lin Mei's eyes widened, and she scrambled to her feet, her posture stiffening as if she could somehow erase the evidence of their playfulness.

“Do you call yourselves disciples of the Skyward Lotus Sect?” Tian Shou continued, his voice seething with disappointment. “Indulging in frivolity when you should be honing your skills, focusing your Qi, meditating on the Dao?”

He stepped forward, his presence looming over them. “Have you forgotten the weight of your responsibilities, the sacred duty you carry?” His voice grew colder, each word like a shard of ice piercing the air. “Is this what I taught you, Tian Hao? To squander your potential on childish antics?!”

Tian Shou's gaze locked onto Tian Hao, sharp and unforgiving. The unspoken accusation hung heavy in the air—another layer added to the burden of his previous failures, compounding the weight of his 'exile' and the still unresolved scandal with Zhao Fei.

Lin Mei, her face still flushed from laughter, quickly straightened, trying to regain her composure. She stepped forward, her voice trembling slightly as she tried to explain. “Sect Leader,” she began, her tone a mix of respect and nervous energy, “it was just a… a misunderstanding. We were… practicing etiquette, and… well, things got a little… out of hand.”

Tian Shou’s gaze lingered on Tian Hao, his expression clearly unconvinced. He let the silence stretch, the tension in the room thickening until it felt like a physical weight pressing on their shoulders.

“Etiquette?” he finally repeated, his voice dripping with disdain.

He took another step forward, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Tian Hao. “I’ve received reports, Tian Hao. Whispers of your irresponsible behavior."

He gestured around the room, his voice rising in indignation. “Do you think the Celestial Conclave is some kind of… playground? A stage for your hedonistic antics? Do you have any comprehension of the consequences? Or is that what makes it all so amusing?”

Tian Hao swallowed, his eyes flickering to Lin Mei, who gave him a look of silent pleading.

“This path you have chosen… it has not made you a stronger cultivator, but merely a larger burden to the Skyward Lotus.” Tian Shou's voice softened, but the disappointment in it was unmistakable. “I am no longer sure how to guide you. Perhaps,” he mused softly, almost to himself, “that is your burden now, the true weight of your actions here, Tian Hao. Perhaps the heavens have decided I no longer hold the chain, you are no longer tethered to my karmic balance.”

He paused, his gaze distant for a moment before he continued, the sternness returning. “Even your victory in the forest challenge cannot overshadow such blatant disregard for common sense.”

Lin Mei quickly interjected. “Honorable Sect Leader,” she said, her voice now laced with a hint of desperation. “Tian Hao’s improved. He’s stronger now. More focused. His cultivation—he’s reached the seventh stage of Body Refining.”

She hoped her words would appease him, that they would remind him of the progress Tian Hao had made, and of his newfound ability to temper his recklessness with moments of true strength.

Tian Shou’s expression softened slightly, though his gaze remained stern. He nodded, acknowledging her words. “Improvement is commendable,” he conceded, “but it does not excuse such disregard for the sect’s reputation. Seventh stage Body Refining is insufficient, especially for my son. We have come too far to be ruined by this lazy foolishness.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes narrowing as they settled once more on Tian Hao. “You risk not just your own standing but ours as well. Causing disruptions at the marketplace—even if they were provoked, though those reports suggest your involvement was perhaps not as passive as Lin Mei has suggested—is one thing. But your… interference with the Pure Path Sect’s disciples, it is unacceptable.”

Tian Hao flinched slightly, the mention of the Pure Path Sect rekindling the tension in his chest.

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“They are a powerful sect, and they will not tolerate such disrespect,” Tian Shou continued. “Did you not consider their sensibilities? Their cultivation? Their leader's well-known ability to shatter mountains with a mere flick of the wrist? Or did you think their austerity might prove them a soft target for what you call ‘fun’? Their rigidity a weakness?”

Tian Shou's voice rose in a crescendo of barely restrained fury, his eyes blazing. “Do you have any concept of the potential consequences, especially with the Iron Talon Sect so close and now more active?”

Silence fell again, heavy and suffocating. Tian Hao looked down, his fists clenching at his sides.

“We cannot afford to make enemies,” Tian Shou said, his tone lowering but losing none of its intensity. “To offend those whose power and cunning could crush us like ants beneath their heels. This incessant need to be seen as more than just what you are, to stand on the cusp of recklessness—is this your idea of some misguided rebellion?”

Tian Hao kept his gaze on the floor, his face flushed, his hands trembling.

“This is no longer only a failing of character,” Tian Shou pressed on, his voice carrying the weight of finality. “By undermining our sect's careful cultivation of trust, you jeopardize all our futures! It jeopardizes the legacy of those who came before you! And for what?!”

He took a deep breath, shaking his head, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I've always known this might be your fate, but I still had hoped for more. I thought your time at the Jade Serpent Outpost would have instilled in you a sense of responsibility—that perhaps the trials there had tempered some of your more reckless impulses. But clearly, my hope has been misplaced.”

He sighed heavily, the exhaustion in his voice clear. “There will be ramifications, Tian Hao. When we return to the sect, you will face the consequences of your actions, even if it takes a year of cleaning the sect latrines to instill in you a proper appreciation for… honor and responsibility.”

With a final, withering glance at Tian Hao, Tian Shou turned and left, the door swinging shut behind him with a resounding thud.

Tian Hao let out a long sigh, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. He looked at Lin Mei, who was now staring at him, her expression a mix of frustration and worry, as if he’d been told again and again to not touch the fire lest he get burned.

He grinned, trying to diffuse the tension. "Perhaps I got a bit carried away? A sect feast might soothe our leader's… anxieties. A little wine always helps? Though perhaps this time he would prefer a stronger vintage than what I’m sure he’s currently sharing with the other sect leaders. Perhaps something with a bit more of that fire we used at our last celebration?"

He winked at Lin Mei. “I'll make sure to have Fatty Wu prepare a truly spectacular meal upon our return. The elders would hardly be displeased with such an offering, even if I, yet again, managed to irritate another sect—though I would say the Pure Paths could use a bit more loosening up, wouldn't you, Lin Mei?"

Lin Mei sighed, shaking her head. “You really do have a knack for finding trouble, Tian Hao. You never seem repentant either. It worries me,” she added, her voice softening. “One day, you might get into trouble that even your charm can't talk you out of.”

Tian Hao gave a light chuckle, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “Lin Mei, you know as well as I do that I'm walking my own path,” he said, his voice carrying a hint of defiance.

“The heavens have their own will, and perhaps they see something in me worth supporting. Who am I to deny their guidance?” He shrugged, as if his actions were merely following a higher calling, his smile growing slightly. “The way forward isn't always the straight and narrow—sometimes it's winding, full of bumps, but that makes it all the more worthwhile.”

Tian Hao chuckled, giving Jiuwei a pointed look. The fox, now innocently grooming her tail as if she were completely unaware of her part in their latest misadventure, looked up, her golden eyes blinking as though she'd only just woken from a deep sleep.

She stretched languidly, then arched her back, letting out a delicate yawn, each movement a display of carefully cultivated innocence.

“And you,” Tian Hao said, pointing a finger at her, “next time, I’m dragging you into the etiquette lessons, too. No more causing distractions, unless those distractions bring honor to the Sect rather than mock its status.”

“That would hardly improve my technique, young one,” Jiuwei quipped back, rolling her eyes. “I think this senior has a few things she could teach you both!” She flicked her tail with a haughty air.

Tian Hao looked at Lin Mei and gave her an over-the-top, deliberately wrong bow, his movements exaggerated and clumsy—a playful jab meant to lighten the mood. Despite herself, Lin Mei’s lips curved into a smile, a genuine warmth that reached her eyes, erasing, just for a moment, the shadows that had settled over her since their return from the Jade Serpent Mountains.

But as the smile faded, Lin Mei's eyes grew distant, her worry creeping back in. “Tian Hao,” she began, her voice soft but insistent, “one day, this carefree attitude might lead us down a path we can't recover from. Just promise me you won't push things too far.”

Tian Hao's smile faltered for a brief moment, and he looked at her with a more serious expression. He gave a small nod. “I promise, Mei Mei. I’ll try my best.”

Lin Mei let out a sigh, her eyes softening, though the concern lingered. She turned away, gazing out the window. “We have so much ahead of us. The challenges aren’t over… they’re just beginning.”

Tian Hao watched her, a flicker of determination crossing his face. He looked at Jiuwei, who had settled back into her lazy grooming, her eyes half-closed. “I guess we should all be ready, then,” he murmured.

Jiuwei paused her grooming, her ears twitching slightly. “You should listen to the girl, young one. Trouble is like a storm—you can’t always charm it away.”

Tian Hao chuckled, shaking off the heaviness. “Maybe not, but I can at least make sure we have an umbrella ready,” he said with a wink.

Lin Mei turned back to him, her lips curving into a faint smile. "Then let's hope you even know how to open an umbrella, Tian Hao. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if you struggled with which end is which." She shook her head, a mix of exasperation and amusement in her eyes.

Tian Hao grinned, rubbing the back of his head. "Well, it's a good thing I've got you to show me, isn't it?"

Lin Mei sighed, her smile growing. "Just don't expect me to bail you out every time it rains trouble."

Jiuwei huffed, her ears perking up. "If it's up to him, we'll all be soaked."