82 – A Recommendation

The moon hung high and full by the time the sixth day of the tournament ended. Ningguang and Wanxia ran toward the City Lord’s infirmary the moment Danxing informed them that Hanmei had woken. He had mentioned she had been conscious since the afternoon but wished to remain alone until she felt ready. Only now had he decided that friendly faces would be preferable before she met anyone from her own sect.

“Wah!” Then came a somewhat familiar voice of Danxing rang out just as they made the final turn.

“No! Wait!” Hanmei’s voice followed, and the infirmary door burst open with a loud crash.

Both women skidded to a halt.

Something small, roughly knee-height, shot out of the doorway. Its shape was unmistakably similar to Danxing, yet it looked soft and finely knitted, like a living doll. It fled past them with both arms trailing behind, tiny hooves making rapid top-top-top sounds against the floor. Ningguang and Wanxia could only stare in stunned silence as it disappeared down the corridor.

“Xiaoxing, wait!” 

Hanmei appeared in the open doorway, already calling the doll by a pet name and half-ready to chase after it. She stopped short when she saw the two of them.

“Sister Ningguang, Sister Wanxia… I am feeling a little better now.” She quickly composed herself. “Ehem. Please, come in.”

—

In another part of the manor, Weiming walked beside a girl of similar age. She wore simple clothes and had ordinary brown hair. This was the same girl who had teamed with him during the final stage of the Great Mortal Game. After considerable effort he had finally learned her name as Yǐnxīn (隱心|Hidden Heart).

“This is truly your first year of cultivation?” Weiming asked, still struggling to believe it. Both of them stood at the third level of Qi Refining, yet he had cultivated for more than five years while she had only begun this year.

Yinxin nodded silently. Weiming’s face lit up with a bright smile.

“Then you must be extremely talented. I’m certain your master and parents are proud of you.”

A faint blush colored her cheeks and she looked away from the straightforward praise.

Top-top-top.

Both of them heard the sound behind them and turned. It was something small, almost completely obscured by the dim corridor. Then its eyes met his.

Three pairs of purple eyes. It stops as their eyes meet. 

Round human pupils. Vertical serpent slits. Rectangular deer pupils.

They were beautiful in a way that made the skin crawl. Too clear, too focused, too aware. Weiming found he could not look away.

‘BOY LOOK AWAY!’ His master’s shout exploded inside his mind, yet the command barely registered. Only when Yinxin tugged hard at his sleeve, trying to pull him back and hide behind him, did the trance break.

When Weiming’s vision cleared, a pair of massive black hooves already stood directly in front of him.

The night itself seemed to thicken. Light failed to reach the space around them, as though something vast had stepped between them and the moon. A pressure settled over his shoulders, then his skull, then deeper. Pressing against the edges of his thoughts until even breathing required effort.

‘Boy, listen to m…’ 

His master’s voice cut off mid-word.

A heavier presence flooded the corridor. It did not roar or shout. It simply occupied. Weiming’s divine sense, still fragile from his damaged meridians, was pushed flat against the walls of his consciousness. Every physical sensation sharpened to an almost painful degree. The cold sweat soaking his robes, the chill of the night air, the weight of the shadow that had fallen across both him and Yinxin.

‘That… thing attached to you,’ 

The Master of Ceremonies’ voice arrived directly inside his mind. Calm, almost conversational, yet each word carried the same crushing weight as the pressure around him.

‘Do you know what it is?’

Weiming’s jaw locked. He forced the answer through gritted teeth.

‘Yes.’

‘What is it?’ The Xuan asked once more.

He hesitated only a moment.

‘My master.’

‘I see. But do you know that it can possess you?’

The question was asked without urgency, as though the Xuan were inquiring about the weather. Yet the pressure did not ease. Weiming knew full well that a stronger divine sense could be used to smother another, to torture and interrogate. This was certainly it.

‘Yes.’ 

His teeth ground together hard enough that he tasted blood. Warmth trickled down his palms where his nails had broken skin.

‘Do you want me to take it away?’ 

The offer landed heavier than the pressure itself.

Weiming was no fool. Even after formalizing the master-disciple relationship, he still did not know the true identity of the presence that had saved him. His “master” had always claimed the truth would be revealed once Weiming grew strong enough. But he knew that his master was a recovering Nascent Soul that took his cultivation that threw him back to third level of Qi Refining. Possession was not an impossibility. It was a delayed possibility. His master bided his time until his cultivation was high enough.

And yet…

The Xuan was only at the second level of Foundation Establishment. His master was a recovering Nascent Soul. The fact that the latter had shown clear wariness toward the former was not something Weiming could ignore. He remembered, too, the Xuan’s earlier comment about something smelling delicious.

Can the Xuan… devour a Nascent Soul? 

The thought chilled him to the bone. 

Still, he had already decided.

‘No.’

He forced every remaining fragment of will into the next words.

‘He saved my life. He is my benefactor. And he is my master.’

The pressure vanished as though it had never existed.

Weiming sucked in a loud, ragged breath. His legs nearly gave out. One hand clutched at his chest as his heart finally remembered how to beat at a normal rhythm.

“That so?” the Xuan said aloud, voice once again ordinary. “Very well. Also… it seems I frightened the both of you more than necessary. My apologies. I will send something later to make up for it.”

There was a brief pause. With his senses still painfully sharp, Weiming felt the Xuan’s attention shift toward Yinxin.

“I’ll leave you to it, then.”

Then the Xuan just disappeared as if he never existed.

—

The final day of the tournament arrived at last. The remaining sixteen pairs made their final preparations. Some stood with absolute confidence. Others looked openly dismayed upon seeing their first opponent, especially those unfortunate enough to be matched against Bai Chengbei or Gongsun Zhaoye. All the anticipation of the various sects and noble families was now focused on the arena. Some sought talent to recruit. Others simply wished to reaffirm the superiority of those born to better lineages. The match arrangements had already been set, and the first few rounds were underway. There was only one problem.

“Young Master Xuan, you seem distracted,” Scholar Liu remarked beside me.

“Hmm? Ah. Right. I just have something on my mind,” I offered a vague excuse. “Could you take over the commentary for now? Just notify me if any of the participants start getting too rough.”

Fortunately, Scholar Liu chose not to pry and simply nodded.

As for me, my thoughts were still stuck on what my illusion clone had observed the previous night. When I first met Weiming, I had already sensed something attached to him. Yesterday, however, my plushie clone had no veil over its eyes, and I had been able to see far more clearly. The soul emerging from his ring was a vivid, almost aggressive red, large enough that it nearly overshadowed Weiming’s own soul entirely. It looked parasitic. The fragments of truth I had gleaned when our eyes met did nothing to make the attached presence more endearing either.

Hero of the Southern Gate

Fodder of his Master

Potential companion for the Heaven’s Chosen

That was what I had seen. I was still undecided on whether I should fully interfere. Yesterday I had leaned toward meddling, but since he would be fighting today I chose to hold back. I had no idea what would happen if I forced the issue. His so-called master might even use him as a hostage, which was never a preferable outcome. I still had my duties as Master of Ceremonies, and if my interference got the boy killed it would create no end of trouble for the City Lord. The third line was something I had already seen once before, back in Jin, with Gujian, Fumo, and Qingling.

Worse still… the girl standing behind Weiming was Suxin.

I doubted there could be more than one Heaven’s Chosen. The moment our eyes met, that familiar, grating insistence that she was the Heaven’s Chosen and my destined enemy had started up again. But Suxin shouldn’t even be thirteen yet, the minimum age requirement for the tournament. The last time I had seen her she was still an ordinary girl. Now she had somehow reached the final preliminary rounds.

My attention returned to the arena just as her match was called. She faced another girl, this one from a cadet branch of the Ōuyáng family. I leaned forward slightly to watch.

“Begin!”

“I surrender.”

The referee’s call and Suxin’s immediate surrender came almost at the same time. The two girls exchanged formalities. Suxin politely cited the five-level gap between them as the reason for her withdrawal.

I leaned back in my seat again, no longer in the mood to offer proper commentary. Scholar Liu was already handling my supposed job more than competently.

I mean, what was I supposed to do in this situation? I cannot exactly meddle even if it was morally right to help the boy. Asking others for help might not even be well received anyway as the City Lord already has his own schemes. Elder Yinyue and senior sister Zhaoxia might be receptive but also equally might scold me and tell me to focus on my own responsibility. So asking someone stronger was out of the question and I doubt me and the two other chucklenuts can come up with a good solution. I let my thoughts drift, hoping something else would occupy my mind.

—

“Young master Xuan.” Scholar Liu called.

“Yes?” I woke up. Definitely not sleeping. “Did someone get violent?”

“Ehem. The tournament has concluded already." He then whispered.

‘About time you wake up.’ Huiran’s annoyed voice came through a voice transmission. Clearly trying to wake me up too.

Oh fuck! Already!

I rose quickly to my feet. The three finalists were already standing at the center of the arena. Judging by their positions, Bai Chengbei had taken first place, Qin Weiming second, and Ye Wanzhao third.

I stepped forward to the edge of the platform and projected my voice across the entire venue.

“Participants, honored guests, and spectators, the one hundred and eleventh Young Dragon and Phoenix Tournament has reached its conclusion. To the three who now stand at the center: your strength, composure, and determination have earned you these places of honor. To every participant who stepped onto the arena these past days, whether you advanced or fell early, you have already proven yourselves worthy of respect. May the path ahead of each of you remain steady, and may the fortunes of heaven favor your future cultivation.”

I paused briefly, then continued in the same measured tone.

“The top three will now be escorted to receive their rightful rewards. Once again, I congratulate the victors, and I thank all present for bearing witness to this tournament.”

“Young Master Xuan.”

A calm voice cut through the closing atmosphere of the tournament. Every gaze in the venue immediately turned toward the speaker. It was Gongsun Qingchen, the same busybody I had encountered before while dealing with Ningguang’s situation.

“May I make a… recommendation?” he asked, a sly smile already curling at the edges of his mouth.

I already had a bad feeling about where this was going.

‘You may accept,’ the City Lord’s voice arrived through Voice Transmission before I could refuse.

I exhaled quietly. “Hmmm. Very well. You may.”

Qingchen snapped his fan shut with deliberate force. “It would appear that battles between Qi Refining cultivators bored you to the point of falling asleep. The music you produced while sleeping was not unpleasant, of course, but it is clear you require a little more… excitement.”

‘What music?’ I asked Scholar Liu, Huiran, and Wendao at once.

‘You made… unfamiliar music when you slept.’

‘Everyone knows you were asleep.’

‘We tried to wake you up.’

Their answers came in rapid succession.

I see. So this was entirely my own fault.

I drew a slow breath. Fuck.

“Let’s dispense with the pleasantries,” I said flatly. “What recommendation do you wish to make?”

I braced myself, wanting the entire debacle over as quickly as possible.

“It is nothing particularly spectacular,” Qingchen replied, his glee only barely concealed. “Since battles between Qi Refining cultivators proved so dull, why not elevate the spectacle? How about the Master of Ceremonies himself demonstrate for the participants how a proper battle between Foundation Establishment cultivators is fought?”

I stared at him for a long moment.

Hmmm.

Fuck.

~ Valarion